Distressed: Enemy Of The State- Book 1 Read Free Page B

out.”
    Amarah clasped his hands together, his prayers and tears flowing together in a last attempt to save his life, but unlike the devout Muslims around him, Perry understood that neither the tears nor prayers would reach the ghosts of their Quran.
    The bullet sliced through Amarah’s cheek, and the boy crumpled to the floor. Blood pooled around Amarah’s head, and the rest of the men in the warehouse muttered silent prayers to themselves. Perry took a good look at what he saw and made sure the men had a clear view of the boy’s dead body. “This is the price for incompetence. We will not fail.”
    The overhead lighting had cast the men around Perry in shadows. Half-visible faces, limbs, and bodies looked at him. It was an army of shadows, shifting between the light and darkness. “Do you hear me?” Perry’s voice boomed through the hot warehouse air. “We will not fail!”

 
    ***
    The harbor parking lot was already full by the time Agent Adila Cooper made it to the port. She roamed the gravel lot, searching for a space, and finally pulled her Crown Victoria between two trucks that barely left her enough space to squeeze out of her vehicle. The pistol on the inside of her jacket scraped against the truck’s panel as she shimmied her way out.
    Dark circles rested beneath Cooper’s eyes as she tried rubbing away the fatigue that had pestered her since her “administrative leave” started a week ago. It circled her mind like a fly buzzing around a piece of rotten meat.
    Even in the morning, the air was already warm, and Cooper could smell the mixture of salt, fish, and fuel that stained the harbor like a scar. She was amazed at how many boats were still going out to fish in the current climate. But just because the country was plagued with terrorists didn’t mean the bills stopped coming. Rent, water, and food still had to be paid for. And just because Cooper wasn’t officially with the DEA didn’t mean she stopped being an agent.
    The wooden planks and boards that composed the harbormaster’s building were covered in bird shit and smelled as bad as they looked. Inside was a small convenience store where snacks, bait, and tackle were sold to those who were caught in a pinch before heading out to sea, and charged an arm and a leg for their trouble.
    The cash register was unmanned, and Cooper made her way to the staircase. She was halfway up the steps when she heard the raspy voice of the harbormaster, accompanied by the creak of the steps. “Hold on, I’m coming.”
    Cooper descended back to the floor as she watched the harbormaster waddle down. His breathing was labored by the time he made it to the bottom. He leaned up against the wall, and sweat rolled down the front of his neck, leaking from his face. “What do you want?”
    “I’m looking for Dayton Clowdy.”
    The harbormaster didn’t answer immediately, giving Cooper a look up and down. “Who the hell are you?”
    Cooper kept a watchful eye on his chubby fingers as he moved toward the register. She followed casually. “I need some details of what happened on the night of August sixth.”
    The harbormaster waved his hands then reached underneath the counter, hidden from Cooper’s vision. “You some sort of cop?”
    “I need to see the radio transmission logs from that night.” Cooper felt the weight of her pistol underneath her jacket, firmly aware of its presence as the harbormaster kept his hands concealed behind the counter. She took a step forward. “It’s part of the investigation of the attacks that have been happening along the coast.”
    “Look, lady, unless you have a warrant or I see some kind of badge, I don’t have to tell you shit. So if you’re not buying anything, then get the hell out of my shop. I’ve got work to do.”
    Cooper nodded slowly then looked around the store. A cluster of handled fishing nets jutted up from a series of PVC piping. She pulled one out and set it on the counter. Cigarettes lined the wall behind