Revenge, Inc. Read online



  Revenge, Inc.

  A Novel by

  J. D. German

  Book #3 in the Jack and Lynn Preston Series

  Copyright 2016 by J. D. German

  SmashWords Edition

  Identification of Major Characters

  Lynn Preston – Wife of ex-federal agent Jack Preston, who was murdered at the end of the previous book ion the series, The Forseti Solution. To deal with Jack’s death she takes up hacking into personal, bank, and government computer systems to get revenge for victims of abuse or fraud.

  Jack Preston – Jack may be dead but his ghostly spirit is not. He visits Lynn to protect her and help her begin a new life.

  Harriet and Rick Goodman – Friends and allies during the political battles of the first two books in the series. They live on The Farm, a gentleman’s farm in Virginia where Lynn joins them to begin her new company, Revenge, Inc.

  Tom Gutierrez – A former colleague and close friend from the first two novels in the series.

  Dave Cramer – An old friend of Jack and Lynn who operates Cramer Security and Investigation Company. He brings Lynn in as a computer investigator and undercover agent, and send her to Hacker School for training.

  Matt Murdock – A detective with the Philadelphia Police Department who investigates a murder attempt on Lynn. In the process they become romantically involved.

  Zarah Savvin – Lynn’s nemesis from the previous book who is seeking revenge against Lynn for killing her mentor and lover, Alexei Brusilov.

  Other Books by J. D. German

  The Hermetrius Conspiracy – Lynn and Jack Preston Series #1

  The Forsetti Solution - Lynn and Jack Preston Series #2

  Christian Principles – Food for Thought

  Random Thoughts of an A.D.D. Mind

  Prologue

  Jack and Lynn Preston, as part of a team of crusaders, have finished their work to keep billionaire Charles Winston from taking over the White House and destroying the principles our country stands for. Winston is dead and a more moderate Marcus Tyler is president. Jack and Lynn are looking forward to relaxing and enjoying their new lives together when Jack is murdered by one of Winston’s hired guns.

  Lynn is devastated by her loss and goes into a deep depression, wishing she were dead so she could be with Jack once more. But someone comes to comfort her, someone who will talk with her, and hug her, and sleep with her – Jack’s spirit.

  Chapter 1 - Pain

  Lynn was snuggled under her comforter to escape the cold mountain air in the bed that she and Jack shared whenever they were at his cabin. She could feel his arms around her as he snuggled spoon fashion against her back. She felt his lips delivering a gentle kiss to the back of her neck, and that brought a familiar warm feeling inside her. He hugged her a little tighter to see if she was awake.

  “Mmmm. Who’s that with his arms wrapped around me?”

  She heard him answer “Just me, your loving husband. Are you asleep?”

  “I was before those kisses brought up warm memories. Why don’t you light a fire in the fireplace, then come back and light my fire.”

  “I thought you would never ask. I’ll be right back – save my place.”

  While he was away Lynn rolled over on her back, yawned, and stretched her whole body, like cats do, anxious for Jack to come back to bed.

  After several minutes he hadn’t come back. She called for him. “Jack? . . . Jack?”

  No answer. She slid out of bed, put her robe and slippers on, and padded into the living room. He’s not in here. She thought. And the fire is not lit yet. She checked the kitchen, thinking he might be making coffee, but it was empty.

  Maybe he went into the guest bedroom for a quick shower. I think I’ll join him.

  But he wasn’t there either. The only other place he could be is in the front entryway. She went back through the living room and rounded the corner. She froze in her tracks . . . and then she screamed. He was on the floor, blood pouring from bullet wounds in his head and shoulder. She screamed again . . . and it woke her up.

  The dream brought it all back. She responded in her usual way by tucking her body into a ball and crying. Loud, sobbing cries came out of her heart as she pulled the covers over her head and wished they would suffocate her. She couldn’t bear to live without him. Even though they had only been married six months, they were soul mates – a part of each other. When that part of her was ripped away by an assassin, it left a huge hole in her. She knew he was in Heaven and she just wanted to kill herself so she could be with him.

  After she had cried out all the tears she had – for now – she tried to remember what day it was . . . or what week it was. How long has it been since . . . since he left me. Three months? – has it been that long? After Lynn got her revenge against Jack’s killer she came up here to his West Virginia home – a five-room cabin on the shore of a small lake in the eastern Appalachians. Its appeal for her was the isolation – 30 minutes from the nearest town, if you could call it that. A general store, a gas station, four bars, and small jail for the weekend drunks. Jack built the place here because of the isolation.

  He retired here from his job as an agent for the Federal Remediation Agency, FRA, two years ago after his wife died of lung cancer. They both had grown up in the southwest corner of West Virginia, deep in the coal-filled mountains, where the air was thick with coal dust from the mines and smoke from the coal-burning fire places and locomotives. It affected some worse than others. The miners died early from black lung disease. Those who didn’t work in the mines lasted longer, but often died from COPD long before their time. He and his sweetheart wife escaped right after high school, but it wasn’t soon enough for her.

  By the time she hit 50, she had a chronic cough that wouldn’t go away. It was worse in the winter, but never really went away. Even with Jack pushing her, she refused to go to the doctor. Her father had died of black lung when she was only 12, and the pain had never left her. Her mother died a year later – partly from lung disease and partly from the loss of her will to live. Helen knew what was wrong with her, and didn’t want to hear it confirmed by a doctor. They could extend her life – in misery – for a couple of years maybe, but she wasn’t interested. She and Jack had enjoyed their close relationship for 31 years, and she couldn’t think of anything else she wanted to do before she passed on. She hurt when she thought about how it would affect Jack. He was always the independent sort who liked to believe he kept his emotions in check, but he had cried on her shoulder many times over the years.

  When the COPD was pulling her quickly toward her date with God, she and Jack made the most of those last few months, but he was crying at her bedside when she died.

  Jack tried to act like he could handle it – like a man – but after six months he realized his work meant nothing to him anymore. So he cashed out of his 401K and set about building the cabin. He planned it well. As a former ‘secret’ agent, he included security systems and an armory, where he had the latest of almost every hand weapon available. He also included a computer and communication system that could take him anywhere on the internet without leaving any trace of his presence behind. He built a secret room in the hidden basement of the cabin for his equipment and weapons storage, and equipped his Ford Sport Trac pickup with a secret compartment below the bed so he could take whatever hardware he might need anywhere in the country. Now his truck was parked out in the garage beside the cabin, gathering dust and cobwebs while Lynn was trapped in the emotional paralysis of her anguish.

  Lynn brought her thoughts back to the present, and started crying again. She was so emotionally drained that she rarely ate. The emotional pain was worse than any physical pain she had ever experienced. She felt trapped at the bottom o
f a steep-sided bowl. Whenever she got a spark of energy and tried to climb up out of it, the pull of . . . what? . . . dragged her back to the bottom. In her clearer moments she realized she was depressed, but didn’t have the energy to get help for it. During one clear moment she realized that depression feeds on itself, that it wants you to stay in its grip, but that fleeting thought led her nowhere.

  One night she woke from another Jack dream with so much pain that she got her pistol from the dresser drawer ands put the barrel in her mouth. As she started to squeeze the trigger she thought If I kill myself, will I go to Heaven to be with Jack? Is suicide an unforgivable sin? When she realized she didn’t know the answer, she put the gun away and went back to crying.

  Some indeterminate time later Lynn’s sleep was interrupted by someone pounding on the front door.

  “Go away. I don’t want to talk to you. Leave me alone!”

  “Lynn, its Harriet and Rick. Open up!”

  “Who?”

  “Harriet and Rick Goodman, your two best friends. Now let us in.”

  “No. Go back where you came from.”

  “You forget that I’m a trained Federal agent. I can pick this lock in 30 seconds . . . of course it might not work after that. So unless you want it destroyed, open up!”

  Lynn dragged herself out of bed and opened the front door.

  “My God, Lynn. What’s happened to you! You look awful. Rick, avert your eyes until she gets something decent on.”

  When Lynn came back in her robe and slippers Harriet already had a pot of coffee on.

  “We’ve been trying to call you for days, but we get nothing but a busy signal.”

  “Yeah. I guess I let the battery run down on my cell phone. No, wait. I hid it under the sofa cushion. The battery’s probably dead anyway.”

  “Well, this morning we decided . . .”

  Rick cut in with “You decided, dear.”

  “As I was saying, we decided to come up here from The Farm to check on you. And it looks like it’s a good thing we did. Finish your coffee so I can put you in the shower – how long has it been, a week? I’ll get you cleaned up, dressed, and packed. We’re taking you back to our place.”

  “I don’t want a shower, and I don’t want to leave here. Just let me wallow in my misery.”

  “Not gonna happen, dear. We love you too much to leave you here. Now get going. You know I’m trained to get you in an arm lock and march you in there if I have to.”

  “Oh, Okay. I’ll take a shower, but I’m not leaving here.”

  Harriet leaned over and whispered to Rick. “Find a suitcase and pack everything you can find. And keep your eyes open for guns. If you find any put them in the car.”

  As Harriet held Lynn under the shower, night clothes and all, Rick hollered “I can’t find any clothes. All the drawers are empty . . . except for a Glock 15 pistol.”

  “Look in the laundry room. She probably hasn’t washed anything in weeks.”

  It was a struggle, but they finally got Lynn dressed and into the back seat of their Cadillac Escalade.