The Terror in the Emerald City

THE TERROR IN THE EMERALD CITY A THOMAS AUSTIN CRIME THRILLER, BOOK 5 D.D. BLACK DARKNESS AND LIGHT PUBLISHING CONTENTS I. A Perfect Night for Football Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 II. A Race Against Time Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 III. The Skies Over the Emerald City Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Also by D.D. Black A Note From the Author A Note on Setting While many locations in this book are true to life, some details of the settings have been changed. Only one character in these pages exists in the real world: Thomas Austin’s corgi, Run. Her personality mirrors that of my own corgi, Pearl. Any other resemblances between characters in this book and actual people is purely coincidental. In other words, I made them all up. Thanks for reading, D.D. Black “Grief, unprocessed, curdles.” - Jeff Sharlet “Lose your dreams and you will lose your mind.” - Mick Jagger “The only truth is music.” - Jack Kerouac PART 1 A PERFECT NIGHT FOR FOOTBALL CHAPTER ONE Seattle, Washington Monday 2:41 AM Anwar al-Raymi stood motionless, his dark eyes scanning the stadium as the moon emerged from behind a cloud, reflecting its light off the giant steel trusses that supported the roof. The roof, al-Raymi knew, was one of the elements that made this stadium unique. Designed to amplify crowd noise, it was one of the loudest in sports, giving the Seahawks a home field advantage matched by few teams. A slight chill hung in the air and mist clung to the ground. Al-Raymi’s breath formed tiny clouds in the cold, the weight of responsibility settling heavy on his shoulders. The journey had been long, but the end was finally in sight. If all went according to plan, within 24-hours the roof of the stadium would be in rubble, along with so much more. Two black vans, inconspicuous in the dim light, pulled into the service entrance behind him. They’d chosen the far side of the stadium for their entry. It was out of sight from the main road and provided enough cover for his team to work undisturbed. The power to the stadium district in downtown Seattle had gone off two minutes ago, the backup generators disabled one minute later by their asset in the stadium security department. The vans stopped, the low rumble of their engines cutting through the silent stillness of the early morning. Al-Raymi watched the passenger side of Van 1 for Darius, who hopped out and quickly took his place, standing next to al-Raymi as planned. The drivers shut off the vehicles and the morning went quiet except for the shuffling of feet as twelve men and three women emerged. They wore dark, unassuming clothing. All were silent as they took their places around the two leaders. It sickened al-Raymi that they were using women for the job, but Darius, who’d lived in America for years, had convinced him it was necessary. When all had gathered, al-Raymi cleared his throat. “Today we do a great thing,” he whispered. “These acts will be spoken of for all times. Everyone knows their part. In all things, move quickly and quietly. Do you have your radios?” Everyone either nodded or tapped the radios hooked to their belts. Al-Raymi stepped back. Darius took a single step forward, his slight frame almost disappearing in the darkness. It had never sat right with al-Raymi that such a small, physically weak man could wield so much power in their operation. Half al-Raymi’s size, Darius looked like he could be blown over by a gust of wind. And yet, he was the most gifted planner in the world. Darius was a prodigy, a genius. Sure, al-Raymi could squash him like a bug with one his size thirteen boots, but there was no one else on earth who could have gotten them to this moment. The whole plan hinged on Darius’s ability to put together a team that could infiltrate the SCADA system, exploiting an undiscovered zero-day vulnerability and executing a flawless remote shutdown of the power grid. Assuming Darius had done what he said he could do, their digital footprints had been meticulously erased by a sophisticated array of proxies and VPNs. Even if they were eventually tracked, they’d be long gone by then. Darius spoke English with no accent, his short, staccato sentences were like quick and deliberate bow strokes on a violin. “Constant communication. Go.” Immediately the crew split into two groups. Darius would lead the tech and communications team, al-Raymi himself the explosives team. Before they began, al-Raymi had one more thing to say. “Does everyone remember the abort code?” Everyone nodded. Then he locked eyes with Darius. “I want to hear you say it, little one.” Despite the genius of the man, al-Raymi needed him to know who was in charge. He needed them all to know. Darius let his pale blue eyes fall to the ground and mumbled the agreed upon phrase in his almost-American accent. “Yippee-ki-yay.” * * * Darius moved through the dusky corridors of the stadium with purpose. His sharp eyes scanned the surroundings, the tension in the air palpable. He barked quiet commands, his words a mix of English, Arabic, Italian, and French, reflecting the multinational origins of his team. "Presto, prestissimo, quickly,” he whispered, urging his team forward. “Rapidement. Bisur'ah. We need to move bisur'ah." The four men and three women trailing him followed without hesitation. Each had been handpicked for their unique skills and unwavering loyalty. They were a silent, lethal unit,