Eleven (Brandon Fisher FBI Series)

Chapter 41 & Epilogue

Chapter 41

MY SKIN WAS DRENCHED WITH SWEAT, and my heart palpitated wildly. My eyes opened to darkness. My breathing was labored as I reached my hands out to feel the size of the space I was in. As they touched the sides, I remembered I was inside of the coffin.

I pushed on the lid. It didn't move. I paused, attempting to get a solid breath and to get my heart rate under control. Nothing I thought of was successful.

"Help!" I didn't want to die in here. I banged on the lid.

"Brandon?"

I heard Paige's voice come through, but it was shallow as if in the far distance.

"Are you okay? Brandon?"

"Get me out of here!" I could barely breathe. The confined space closed in, constricting my chest as a boa constrictor. I tried to shift my position, but there wasn't adequate room to move much.

"There's a lock." I sensed hopelessness in her voice. "My hands are tied up behind me and I can't get you out."

I banged both hands on the lid of the coffin as if sheer determination and will to escape would break the lock and lift the lid. My efforts were pointless. I stopped moving and again tried to focus on breathing.

This wasn't personal. The killer wasn't after Paige or me. We had interrupted her plans.

I focused on my breathing. Inhale. Exhale.

My heartbeat slowed little, but I said, "I think I know who her eleventh target is."

*****

JACK AND ZACHERY FLASHED THEIR creds to the officer at the front desk. She was the regular one they had come to know over the last couple of days as Rita. She released the lock on the secured doors for them to enter.

"I'll call ahead of you," she yelled out to them.

They rode the elevator to the floor where Chief of Police Brennan and Sergeant Haynes were pacing outside of a conference room.

"It's all set up." Chief Brennan held out a hand to gesture them into the room.

Both local law enforcement officers followed behind Jack and Zachery. Inside the room, there was a table that would seat eight comfortably and a television on a mobile cart at the end of it. The screen showed a man sitting inside a private prison visiting room. A plastic coffee cup sat in front of him, but he kept running a hand through his hair.

"That's your Sean Atwood," Sergeant Haynes said. "Apparently, he hasn't said too much to the sheriff down there. Where is Salt Lick anyhow?"

Jack ignored his question. "Have we heard back from the cars sent to the college?"

"They're still about ten minutes out." Haynes pulled out on the collar of his shirt.

Brennan sat back in his chair. "I believe it's time you gentlemen tell us what's going on here. We've been very cooperative. I've authorized the use of our city's resources to assist you with whatever you need. In return—"

"You've only done what you must and won't be charged with obstructing justice and standing in the way of a federal investigation."

"I understand you have two agents out there." Brennan clasped his hands on the table in front of him. "It's all about time, time we don't have."

Jack held eye contact with Brennan.

"We are fully prepared to back you, but if we knew what was going on we'd have a better chance of—"