Impact (Book 5): Black

was a new day in Denver, but Petteri’s grip on things was slipping. The rock was secure; his ragtag crew of security personnel had managed to push back the other miners and their own shooters. However, having control of the giant chunk of 586001 Tuonela didn’t mean much if his dump trucks couldn’t get the ore out of the city. They were surrounded by clogged streets and hostile locals. The situation was made worse by the big hole in his organization.
“Tell me again what happened yesterday.” He’d called Dorothy to his office to refresh his memory on how he lost his executive officer.
Dorothy had been there when Asher and his terrorist buddies got the jump on him and his security backup. He was pleased she’d survived, though if he were honest with himself, it would have been better if Howard had come through instead. Looking over to the young woman, her black hair was disheveled, and a dark bruise lurked along the hairline above her left ear.
“Well, sir, we all stood in the lobby with you when someone from out on the street started shooting at us.”
“Did you see who it was?” he interrupted. For his part, he’d been pulled to the ground by his security man the second the first shot went off, though he got up and ran immediately after hitting the floor. It was part of his survival instinct. He justified not waiting for the other guy by reminding himself how important he was to the operation. There was a reason the company was named after him.
“Yes,” she nodded, “it was a teen boy. I think he was with the other Native American man. The chief guy.”
“A teen boy?” he said with distaste. “He’s the one who killed Howard?”
Dorothy thought about it for a short time. Long enough he almost prodded her to answer.
“After you left, the guards went down. Howard, survived, I think, but Asher and the park lady grabbed guns and fired at us. I curled into a little ball on the ground, but Howard fought back. I…uh, can’t say for sure who killed him. When all the gunfire was over, they kicked me in the head”—she pointed to the bruise on her temple—“and told me to get lost.”
Her eyes glistened as if on the verge of tears. Seeing it surprised him; she’d been solid as a rock since he’d met her. However, she was young, and a woman who’d suffered through a traumatic event. It was to be expected.
“You’ll be happy to know I have a pair of experts tracking them down now. Nerio Torres and her husband are two of the best people on my payroll when it comes to…cleanup.”
She sat up. “I don’t care how they do it. Those people need to pay for what they did to us. But, wait, who’s in charge of your security after…”
“After Howard?”
She bowed her head.
Petteri pressed a button on his desk phone. “Miss, please send in Mr. Aarons.” He hung up with his administrative assistant. Since he was on the road, he traveled with a lighter staff. Back at headquarters, he would have taken the time to get to know the ladies answering his phones, but on the job site none of his usual song and dance was necessary. He didn’t care what his people thought of him, as long as they did what he asked.
A young man walked through the door of the conference room. His face was bracketed by a dark, full beard, which Petteri instantly hated. However, the guy had worked under Howard for five or six years. The major had often said Craig Aarons was the one guy he trusted if he ever retired from TKM. The man stood at attention, as if Petteri were a general in the army. An act which almost negated Petteri’s distaste of the man’s facial hair.
“Mr. Aarons, thank you for coming on such short notice. I know you’ve been down on the streets with the others, but I had to call you upstairs last night for a reason I’m sure you already know. Howard was killed by terrorist elements.”
Aarons nodded grimly. He was dressed to kill: black combat boots, black tactical pants, and a blue TKM security shirt. His belt was bulging with ammo clips and whatever else you called the equipment soldiers wore on the battlefield. However, he didn’t see any weapons.
“Where’s your gun?” he asked.
Craig looked directly into his eyes. “Sir, I didn’t want to scare anyone in your office by carrying my weapons. I’ve left them with my team captain on the next floor down.”
He was taken aback. “Scare us? Your job is to protect us. How are you going to do that without your gun? I want you to go right back down there, arm up, and then come back. Don’t ever be in my presence without at least two guns. Do you understand?” His anger rose with each word, but he caught himself before launching into a tirade. Howard had known exactly what Petteri wanted since they’d worked together for so long. It would take time for Aarons to get with the program. He tried to soften his next words. “I want you armed, soldier, in case our prisoner frees himself and comes after me. You wouldn’t want that on your record, would you?”
Aarons had turned to go out the door, but he stopped to look back. “Sir? We don’t have any prisoners. Well, I mean, we did have one, but he got out last night. Didn’t Nerio tell you?”
Petteri’s blood froze in his veins. “Tell me what? Who’s escaped?” There was only one person who was being held captive. One person who he’d come within a second of killing but was prevented from doing so by Nerio. One person who was taken into custody and secured inside a locked room by that same woman.
“Miss Torres caught