weren’t going to be happy with him for allowing Russ and that snotty college professor to continue excavating tomorrow. He wiped away the sweat burning his eyes. No, they weren’t going to like it a bit that he had failed to stop them.
6
N
ick Bellamy sat behind his desk and tried to focus on John Lonedeer’s dossier, but his mind kept straying from the case. Rance Osborne had properly chastised him for bungling last night’s operation, and now Nick wondered if he still had the right stuff for fieldwork.
It had been nearly a year since he closed the Creeper assassin case after thwarting an otherworldly catastrophic plot to eliminate the human race. After the congratulatory handshakes and backslaps had ceased, he had replaced Rance as Director of Orion Sector and had been exiled to an office and desk. No more clandestine field assignments. No more perilous mission predicaments. Just meetings, meetings and more meetings.
He had been Orion Sector’s top field agent before being appointed director, but now he was merely a bureaucratic pencil pusher with nothing more dangerous on his plate than the FBI cafeteria food. There were days when he considered entering private investigative practice, and although he realized that Rance needed his help managing the ultra-secret Orion Sector , each day was a greater challenge just to climb out of bed and battle the rush hour traffic.
His phone rang and he plucked the receiver from its cradle.
“Bellamy,” he said and stifled a yawn.
“Rance here. We’ve got problems.”
Nick immediately perked up. “What’s up?”
“Crow’s niece was kidnapped down in Fort Myers and her boyfriend was shot. His condition is critical at the moment.”
“Blossom?”
“That’s her.”
Nick’s eyes were thunderclouds. “I’m on my way.”
“No,” Rance shot back. “Send Neo. I need you to follow-up on your Tampa lead.”
Nick slapped his desk. “That’s Secret Service or maybe even NSA Homeland Security stuff. They don’t need Orion Sector sniffing around on something like that. We’re way over qualified on this one,” Nick argued. He knew from experience that he was destined to lose the argument. “We’re the odd case specialists, remember?”
“Don’t give me a rough time on this,” Rance growled. “You’re the only one I trust to sort this damned terrorist thing out. Tampa isn’t much of a clue, and so far the NSA has come up with squat.”
He sighed heavily. “All right, I’ll contact Neo and send him down to Fort Myers.”
“That’s the spirit. Got any ideas about Crow’s niece?”
Nick thought a minute and then replied, “As a matter of fact, I might.” He explained it to Rance.
“It’s a helluva long shot, but I like it,” Rance said gruffly. “Get Neo on it right away.”
Nick hung up the phone and told his secretary, Velma Kisler, to locate Neo and inform him there was an urgent department meeting in Conference Room C in twenty minutes.
Orion Sector Supervisor, Neo Doss, knocked on the open Conference Room C door and strode in. He was a large strapping African American who had left a multi-million dollar NFL contract on the table to join the FBI. The former New York Giants defensive lineman had a clean-shaven scalp, an anvil chin displaying a meticulously clipped van dyke beard, a pair of piercing obsidian eyes, and an enormously sculpted face. Neo eased his massive, six-foot-six frame into a leather chair across the cherry conference table from Nick. They were the only two in attendance.
Neo grinned. “How’re things in the inner sanctum? Your paper shredder working okay? How about the pencil sharpener? Your coffee cup spotless?”
“Up yours,” Nick replied testily.
“Heard you blew your first assignment since last year. Getting a bit soft, are we?” He tapped the side of his head.
“Good news certainly travels fast,” Nick groaned.
“Especially when it concerns the boss man.”
“Yeah, well my timing was a little off,
6
N
ick Bellamy sat behind his desk and tried to focus on John Lonedeer’s dossier, but his mind kept straying from the case. Rance Osborne had properly chastised him for bungling last night’s operation, and now Nick wondered if he still had the right stuff for fieldwork.
It had been nearly a year since he closed the Creeper assassin case after thwarting an otherworldly catastrophic plot to eliminate the human race. After the congratulatory handshakes and backslaps had ceased, he had replaced Rance as Director of Orion Sector and had been exiled to an office and desk. No more clandestine field assignments. No more perilous mission predicaments. Just meetings, meetings and more meetings.
He had been Orion Sector’s top field agent before being appointed director, but now he was merely a bureaucratic pencil pusher with nothing more dangerous on his plate than the FBI cafeteria food. There were days when he considered entering private investigative practice, and although he realized that Rance needed his help managing the ultra-secret Orion Sector , each day was a greater challenge just to climb out of bed and battle the rush hour traffic.
His phone rang and he plucked the receiver from its cradle.
“Bellamy,” he said and stifled a yawn.
“Rance here. We’ve got problems.”
Nick immediately perked up. “What’s up?”
“Crow’s niece was kidnapped down in Fort Myers and her boyfriend was shot. His condition is critical at the moment.”
“Blossom?”
“That’s her.”
Nick’s eyes were thunderclouds. “I’m on my way.”
“No,” Rance shot back. “Send Neo. I need you to follow-up on your Tampa lead.”
Nick slapped his desk. “That’s Secret Service or maybe even NSA Homeland Security stuff. They don’t need Orion Sector sniffing around on something like that. We’re way over qualified on this one,” Nick argued. He knew from experience that he was destined to lose the argument. “We’re the odd case specialists, remember?”
“Don’t give me a rough time on this,” Rance growled. “You’re the only one I trust to sort this damned terrorist thing out. Tampa isn’t much of a clue, and so far the NSA has come up with squat.”
He sighed heavily. “All right, I’ll contact Neo and send him down to Fort Myers.”
“That’s the spirit. Got any ideas about Crow’s niece?”
Nick thought a minute and then replied, “As a matter of fact, I might.” He explained it to Rance.
“It’s a helluva long shot, but I like it,” Rance said gruffly. “Get Neo on it right away.”
Nick hung up the phone and told his secretary, Velma Kisler, to locate Neo and inform him there was an urgent department meeting in Conference Room C in twenty minutes.
Orion Sector Supervisor, Neo Doss, knocked on the open Conference Room C door and strode in. He was a large strapping African American who had left a multi-million dollar NFL contract on the table to join the FBI. The former New York Giants defensive lineman had a clean-shaven scalp, an anvil chin displaying a meticulously clipped van dyke beard, a pair of piercing obsidian eyes, and an enormously sculpted face. Neo eased his massive, six-foot-six frame into a leather chair across the cherry conference table from Nick. They were the only two in attendance.
Neo grinned. “How’re things in the inner sanctum? Your paper shredder working okay? How about the pencil sharpener? Your coffee cup spotless?”
“Up yours,” Nick replied testily.
“Heard you blew your first assignment since last year. Getting a bit soft, are we?” He tapped the side of his head.
“Good news certainly travels fast,” Nick groaned.
“Especially when it concerns the boss man.”
“Yeah, well my timing was a little off,
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