Death Plummet

By Sue Raymond

Su DeBois, CEO and Artist,who is pregnant, is commissioned to do a sculpture for the university in Prince George, British Colombia while her husband, Jean,US Marshal, is undercover to bring down a terrorist cell based in the wilderness of British Colombia. Su must travel alone to the university to finalize the commission. She transfers planes in Denver unknowing that the terrorist cell will highjack the plane with the remote control they planted an the plane.Thirteen thousand feet in the air the terrorist activates the remote device. The captain and hiscrew fight to regain control of the airliner before the terrorist destroys the plane killing everyone on board. The stress is too much on the hull of the passenger cabin, buckling the side of the plane, ripping it open and expelling Su and two other passengers from the plane at four thousand feet into the wilderness. Now Jean must figure out how to rescue Su at the same time bring down the terrorist cell all before a massive blizzard blankets the wilderness in three feet of snow wiping out any trace of Su's existence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sue Raymond
• Release date: Aug 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301911707

Sue Raymond

Have you ever lie on your back glazing up at the clouds imagining different pictures? Sue Raymond spent many Iowan summer days creating stories for her sister and herself. Sue has written a crime murder mystery series, The DeBois Series and also is a freelance artist. She also has written children stories, written a fantasy, a romance novel, exploring avenue for publishing them. She is married and has two grown sons and four grandchildren who are the apple of her eye.

Book preview

Death Plummet

Book Four in the DeBois Series

Sue Raymond

Death Plummet

Written By Sue Raymond

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Sue Raymond

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

http://sueraymondladylaindora.wordpress.com

All the characters in this book are fictitious any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Places either is the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

Bible passages quoted are from the New King James Version.

ISBN: 9781301911707

Raymond, Sue

Death Plummet, Book four in the DeBois Series / Sue Raymond

Dedicated to all those who helped and supported me in this endeavor and most of all, the Lord who made this possible.

Chapter 1

Jean DeBois stood off from the crowd, sipped the flute of champagne, and tugged at the chaffing collar of his tuxedo shirt, quietly observed the fuss the art critics made over the latest exhibition of Su’s work. He smirked over their attempt to interpret the different meanings of the paintings. Ninety-five percent of their interpretations were as far off base as anyone could be. It mystified him how any of them achieved the fame they claimed as their own.

Jean turned his attention to Su. She stood quietly among a group of admirers, and politely answered their questions. Her honey brown long hair swept beautifully upon her head encompassed her face in soft curls. There was a pleasant smile on her countenance. However, Jean knew she was at the limit of her endurance. They should have declined an appearance, however; fifty percent of the proceeds were going to the children’s home in Romania. She made the appearance for their sake, in spite of the warning from her doctor. The curator of the Corinthian gallery promoted she would be there to boost the attendance of the upper class.

Jean caught the tiny change in her stance to stand a little more comfortable and keep a pleasant countenance as the babies started stirring. He would give her another fifteen minutes then he would sweep her away to their hotel for a massage to help her relax and settle the babies down from their combat for premium space in Su’s womb.

He reminisced the dressing down she gave the specialist in his office when they found out she was pregnant.

Dr. Rider sent her to the specialist seven months ago when Su could not keep anything down for two weeks. After doing several tests, the specialist issued them solemnly into his office for a consolation pointing to the two chairs in front of the mahogany desk. He sat down and plopped her case file down. He opened it examining the test results once more before he addressed them.

The specialist gave a disgusting sigh, he glared over at Jean sitting across the desk, You know by not bothering to restrain your sexual appetite with a condom you placed your wife’s life in jeopardy. You had no consideration for her delicate medical condition. You don’t comprehend how rare it is for someone with marasmus to survive as long as she has, most died in infancy. He glowered over his small square shaped lenses.

"We need to schedule the abortion today so her condition doesn’t deteriorate any further. I will also schedule you for a vasectomy. I can fit the abortion in this afternoon at two and the vasectomy tomorrow at eight…" He flipped open his appointment book.

"Excuse me? Just what makes you think I would allow you ever again to come within a mile of me let alone, allow you to murder my child? If you made your position known about this before we took the time to come all the way here, it would saved everyone a lot of time and money." Su launched halfway across his desk which caused the doctor to jerk back so quickly he toppled backward and crashed onto the floor.

"As for my husband forcing his will on me, you are very much mistaken. Her eyes slid to slits at the doctor lying there. In our marriage, we discuss our decisions and seek the Lord’s guidance in them. We have an equal say and respect each other’s opinion."

The specialist lay there stunned for a second as Jean calmly took Su by the waist, lift her off the desk. Jean kept her at bay while he helped the specialist up.

After the initial shock wore off, the specialist straightened his jacket, his mouth pulled down in a pucker, "I’m not a murderer."

"If you surgically tear away or chemically kill a helpless innocent infant in their mother’s womb, you are no better than any other murderer who sheds innocent blood and do not bother trying to tell me it is not a baby; it’s a fetus because fetus is Latin for little one. Neither is trying to justify an abortion as legal. Hitler made extermination of the Jewish legal, also. That did not make it any less murder because someone deemed someone else no longer human. Just because a law is passed, does not make the truth any less the truth like or not." Su spat out the words as she tried to get around Jean to get back in the specialist’s face.

Jean held Su by the waist while he moved toward the door.

The specialist adjusted his glasses, his body ridged with indignity over her analogy of him. He shook a warning accusing finger at Jean. If you’re fool hardy enough to allow her to continue with this suicide pregnancy, you better be prepared for an slew of medical conditions to strike like toxemia, eclampsia, hypertension, stroke, renal failure, and anemia before she miscarriage. There’s a real possibility, you’ll bury her by the end of the year if not sooner.

"Whether or not our child or I die, will not be your decision to make. I will do whatever I need to bring our baby safely into this world, Lord willing. It will ultimately be His will in this matter and no one else! May God have more mercy on your soul than you do to the unborn children you murder." Su’s voice waffled through the slit as the door slammed shut.

Jean escorted Su out of the building quickly so there would not be more of an incident. He waited they were in the car before he said anything.

"I know it upset you to find out he performs abortions, but Su, did you have to call him a murderer and compare him to Hitler?" he asked her gently.

Her response was not as gentle her eyes sparked with righteous contempt, The evil that was within Hitler did not die with him. It was upon the earth long before his manifestation. It spreads throughout the world, planting its evil wherever someone allows it access to their heart and mind, corrupting their soul with its foul poison. I did not say anything untrue and you know it. He is as much of a murderer as any serial killer you go after in your job. You know it and so does he. She grabbed the seatbelt and drew it across clicking it securely. Her mouth pursed over the distasteful encounter.

"Su, there’s a difference." He tried to hold her hand.

Her head whipped around, Not in the eyes of the Lord. Whoever sheds innocent blood is a murderer and who is more innocent than an unborn child? We are to view the world as the Lord does, speaking out against the evil which has the world in its grasp with the truth of God. She jerked her hand away in frustration.

"Do you really think he heard anything after you blasted him? You need to be more tolerable when it comes to the faults of other adults, like you are with children." He leaned his arm on the steering wheel and twisted in the seat toward her.

"There is a difference between someone’s faults and their sins. We are not to tolerate sin in our lives, but to confront it, so its cancerous evil does not spread." She turned away from him and stared out the window.

"Su, you need to calm down. You’re working yourself up making yourself sick," Jean reminded her as he started the car and headed for home.

She did not answer him, just sat there in cold stony silence all the way home. The more he tried to calm her down, the more aggravated she got. Her countenance was a mask of mixed emotions all jumbled together. Su got out of the car and slammed the door in Jean’s face.

He cornered her in the kitchen as Su was putting the crystal away out of their packing crate.

"Su, you need to stop being hysterical about this."

"You want to see hysterical? I will show you what hysterical really is," she cried and lobbed a glass at him. It shattered against the wall behind him.

"Su, don’t… was all Jean got out before he ducked behind the counter preventing a barrage of glasses from impacting into his cranium as Su rifled glass after glass at the wall, You know, this is nothing but a childish temper tantrum? You’re not only going to have to clean all this up, but I ought to make you glue each and every one of these glasses back together, he called out from safety, It’s a good thing the children are on a field trip and can’t see their mother behaving like this. I don’t think I could handle ten spoiled little brats breaking things."

No more were the words out of his mouth when a plate crashed down on his head. Su leaned over the counter and dropped another one on him. In a flash, Jean was up and wrapped her up in one arm, and took yet another plate away from Su with the other hand. She was small and petite, nevertheless, once her emotions took control she was a live wire. Jean set the plate down on the counter as he encircled her up in his massive arms.

"It’s one thing to take your frustrations out on an inanimate object, however; when you start dropping plates on my head that’s spousal abuse. Why don’t you use the weight bag downstairs in the gym instead of taking it out on the glassware? He gave Su a quirky smile. It’s a good thing I’m back to work. You broke six months worth of wages in less than five minutes. You need to throw the Libby glasses from Wal-Mart next time."

"Take it out of my allowance." Su turned her face from his as she struggled against his strong warm embrace.

"What allowance? I’m the one who should be getting the allowance here. You make more in one month than I do in six," Jean laughed at her as he turned her face back kissing her.

"Oh, is that how you want it, to be a kept man?" Su purred, her rage giving way to Jean’s charm.

"As long as it’s you doing the keeping, I’m at your beckon call. Why don’t you go upstairs and slip into that dress I gave you for Mother’s Day, last year, while I clean up the after mass down here?" Jean rested his forehead on hers and peered deeply into Su’s eyes.

"That dress, if you remember is what got us in this situation on our anniversary in the first place." She tapped Jean’s nose with the tip of her finger.

"I know and I feel like dancing," Jean murmured then delivered a deep sensual kiss.

Jean was jolted back to the present from a couple of men approached him. They inquired how he liked Su’s newest exhibit.

She’s truly an exquisite artist. This new exhibit is her best work yet, don’t you think, sir? one of them inquired of Jean as they sipped on their drink. Jean ran his hand across the forelock of the sculpture of Su’s horse Storm Chaser.

Yes, each time she applies a brush to canvas it’s better than the last, Jean agreed, his face taunt.

Is this your first time to attend her exhibition here? I go to all of her openings so I recognize all the regulars, however; you seem to be new to the circuit this year, the other one said, scrutinizing the painting near him.

Jean started to move away from their company, This is my first time in London,

Would you like to meet her? I’m one of her closest and most intimate friends, the first man smiled sinisterly.

That statement made Jean stop in his tracks, You know Mrs. DeBois on an intimate level, do you?

Oh yes my good fellow, quite intimately. Matter of fact, she’s quite the party animal. Yes, quite a little tiger, in spite of the condition she’s in, ha, ha, ha, she was at my flat just last night for a rousing game of bump and grind.

In one swift move, Jean had him by the throat, swinging two feet in the air in a death grip, "Allow me to introduce myself chap. I am Jean DeBois, husband of the lady you just slandered, Jean hissed as he set his flute down beside a statue. My wife was asleep beside me all night long, last night. Since I know you were nowhere near my bed, you’re the most blatant liar I ever met. Jean’s tempter churned souring his stomach, It sickening how a scum sucking maggot tries to elevate himself up out of the mire, by maligning a true lady, such as my wife by trying to shove her down in the quagmire."

The man weakly struggled prying at the steel vice that compressed his larynx, trying to preserve the oxygen left in his lungs, spilling the content of his glass.

His associate stepped back with a shocked expression. Their glasses shattered in unison upon the marble floor.

Jean lowered him and drew him close to Jean’s face. Jean’s eyes turned deadly cold.

Now I want you to listen and listen well. If you ever so much as even think of coming anywhere near my wife or one of her exhibits ever again, Mr. Jean growled through a ridged jaw, fished in the man’s pocket for his ID., Mr. Sanders of 174th. Loft 47b, I will personally come back and finish the job I just started here.

You can’t threaten him. It’s against the law and if you don’t let go, you’re going to have assault charges brought up against you, the other man recovered from his shock as the man’s face turned crimson.

Jean’s expression was an immense peril toward the men. His head turn toward the other man, "That wasn’t a threat. It was a promise and I am a man of my word. He swung the man toward the other, Therefore, when I release you, you and your slime ball mate here are going leave and not have the remotest thing to do with my wife. If you do, you’ll find yourselves behind bars for stalking and breaking the no contact order I’m going to have served on you. Now slither out of here like the scum sucking worms you are before I forget my manners and grind you out of existence under my heel," Jean warned, released Sanders’ throat, and allowed him to fall to the floor with a thud.

Jean picked up his flute, standing over him. The security guard noticed the commotion and came over to investigate.

Mr. DeBois, is there something wrong? He stood by the fallen man.

These two degenerates are leaving. Please make sure they find their way out and never allowed into another one of my wife’s exhibits again, Jean turned his attention back to Su.

He walked away and left the security guard to deal with the after mass. Jean pushed through the growing crowd of spectators, freeing his wife from her fans. He could see Su’s smile was now just a grin, which meant she was in a lot of pain. He set his champagne flute on a passing waiter’s tray, slid his arm protectively around Su as the curator came up to them.

I’m very sorry they were allowed in, Mr. and Mrs. DeBois. It’ll bloody well never happen again. He wrung his hands. We can’t understand how security passed them through without an invitation. I hope you enjoyed yourselves in spite of what happen. His face was crimson over the breach in security.

We had a lovely time, however; we need to leave for the hotel so we may get some rest. I suffer from jet lag easily so we will thank you for all your hard work. Once again thank you, Jean made a path through the people for Su.

When they reached the door the maitre d’ asked, May I flag down a taxi for you?

Su glanced up at the night sky, No thank you. We will walk. It is only six or seven blocks away and I love to walk under a starry night sky.

Jean looked at her, Are you sure?

She smiled up at the night skyline, Yes, the fresh night air will feel nice.

Jean gave a small sigh, Okay, one midnight stroll in the moonlight coming up, he opened the door for her.

Su linked her arm in Jean’s arm and leaned her head against it as they journeyed toward their destination. The starry night shed a soft light on them strolling along the avenue.

So when are you going to enlighten me on what occurred in the gallery to cause such a commotion? The excuse of being jetlagged might work on the curator, however, you never suffer from it so as Scott says, okay spill the beans and do not try to con me. She stopped several blocks away causing him to halt abruptly so he did not knock her over.

Jean avoided her eyes, starring across the parkway instead.

She took her hand and placed it upon his cheek to draw his attention back to her.

Jean gently withdrew her hand enclosed it in his and kissed Su lightly upon the cheek before he answered her.

It isn’t important. I just straightened out a couple of overly exuberant admirers, reminding them of their proper place.

She shook her head in non belief of his answer; however, she allowed it to drop for his countenance relayed an end to this line of questioning. They continued on hand in hand, Su humming a tune softly as they went.

Jean loved to listen to Su sing. The music she produced always entranced him in its delicate strands of melody weaving itself deep within his soul, there it intertwined their souls together for eternity.

Three blocks away from the hotel, Jean became aware of the movement in the shadows. One was in front of them approximately fifty feet and the other twenty feet behind them. His body tensed in anticipation of the pending attack. His mind contemplated how to protect Su from the danger. His ears picked up the subtle click of a switchblade knife from the attacker behind them as they walked toward the other.

Su felt Jean’s muscles tense, stopped humming as she looked up at him. One look at his countenance alerted her to the danger also. She immediately matched his body movements with her own. Jean signaled there were two assailants. Su nonchalantly slipped off her high heels as they walked slowly forward. Jean slipped out of his tuxedo jacket laid it across his arm. He placed his arm around Su’s shoulders. The closer they came to the frontal danger, the tighter Jean’s muscles rippled with anticipation. Ten feet in front of them, the bloke from the art gallery stepped out from the shadows. A twelve-inch survival knife glistened in the reflection of the night sky.

Well lookie here, Smitty. It’s the big bad Yank and his little skank of a wife who thinks she’s something special. Well Yank, you’re on our turf now. We didn’t think we would catch such a big prize tonight. His face twisted with as a sinister gleam flashed in his eyes.

What’s a matter Yank? Yah got nothing to say now you don’t have security to back you up. We’ll not mess yah up too much if yah hand over everything, Sanders sneered as he passed the knife from hand-to-hand.

Smitt came out of the shadows from behind them and circled them with Sanders, reminding Jean of a school of sharks that smelled wounded prey. Jean slid in front of Su at every turn, keeping him in between them and her.

An evil plan itself spawned in Smitt’s twisted mind, Screw this penny ante crap, Sand. Let’s just make short work of the bloke and when we’re done having fun with her, we can ransom her back to the gallery, if she survives.

That’s a good idea Smitty. I wouldn’t mind a couple of games of darts with my blade at her myself and then have a nice vacation, Sanders sneered with an oily grin.

There’s only one thing wrong with your plan, Jean quietly said.

And what would that be? Smitt let loose with a raunchy laugh.

You both will be in the morgue before your plan comes to light.

Smitt’s laughter died in mid chuckle as he lunged at Jean. Jean sidestepped Smitt’s lunge, grabbed the wrist twisting it and slammed his elbow into Smitt’s face. There was a sickening crunch sound as Jean’s elbow sunk into Smitt’s nose. Jean ripped Smitt’s arm out of the socket in one swift movement.

He drove a foot into Smitt’s ribs. As Smitt crumpled to the ground, Jean caught the slightest movement, ducked the survival knife as it swept over his head. He gave Sanders a kick to the stomach and drove Sanders backward. Sanders recovered and lunged at Su. Jean intercepted Sanders with a body block to the ribs. They landed in the bushes. The knife clattered noisily to the pavement and slid fifteen feet away.

Su peered into the darkness trying to make out Jean in the shadows as he took Sanders on hand-to-hand. She could hear the punches and kicks as Jean rained them on Sanders. Sanders was almost Jean’s size and weight, however, Jean out matched him when it came down to hand-to-hand combat. Jean had been a combat trained Special Opts. Commander in the service and now was the commander of an elite unit in the U.S. Federal Marshal Division, something few men achieved by the age of thirty-two.

Sanders’ punches landed rare compared to the beating he took from Jean. Su heard each sickening thud as other part of Sanders’ body crumpled under the inertia of Jean’s sledgehammer fists and kicks. Suddenly, Sanders’ limp body hurled out of the darkness as Jean’s roundhouse kick impacted with Sanders’ face.

Jean stepped out a second later, in time to stop Smitt as he staggered toward Su with his arm hanging limply at his side. Smitt held the switchblade weakly in his left hand raised above his head poised for the attack. Jean blocked the thrust with his left arm and drove his fist into Smitt’s throat.

Smitt crumbled at Jean’s feet. They heard the whistle of a Bobbie. Jean turned as two Bobbies came running to them. He went over to Su, picked up his jacket and placed it around her trembling shoulders. The owner of the whistle knelt down to check the unconscious crumbled forms after he ordered Jean and Su to stand back. The Bobbie got on the walkie-talkie and called for an ambulance as his partner sized up the situation.

The Bobbie went over quietly talked to his partner before they approached Jean and Su who stood at the edge of the bushes. He gave the unconscious men one last look and then started in with the questioning, I need to see your identification, sir, and ma’am, then you can tell me your side of the story, he informed them in a thick cockney accent . He took the information Jean handed him, Yanks. I will need to see your passports, Mr. DeBois. You seem to be able to handle yourself all right by the looks of things, nevertheless, why are you out so late walking alone. You know it’s the quickest way to invite trouble. It doesn’t seem to be the brightest thing to do with your wife in the condition she’s in. He cocked his head and scribbled down the information before returning it.

We’re on our way to our hotel from an art exhibition a few blocks away from here when we were attacked, Jean answered him, and kept an eye on Su.

The Bobbie glowered, An art exhibition? Why didn’t you take a taxi so you didn’t place her in this danger? Why did this escalate as far as it did? This isn’t their usual MO. They usually are a snatch and run operation. What made you so special they would change their mode of heist? The Bobbie tilted his head glancing at them with a suspicious eye.

They were at the art exhibition, scouting for potential victims when I had a run in with the one who calls himself Sanders over the wisecrack he made about my wife. Jean returned the look with one of his own.

So this is some sort of retaliation for an insult to your wife? The Bobbie scribbled something in his notebook.

The muscles twitched along Jean’s jaw. "No. This was not any retaliation on my part. My wife needed some fresh air so we decided to walk to our hotel when we were confronted by these thugs who decided to branch out into kidnapping, only they chose to attack the wrong couple.

Jean pointed behind him. You’ll find the knife Sanders had on the ground about fifteen feet in back of you in the edge of the bushes. It’s a twelve-inch survival knife. There’s a switchblade under Smitt so be careful. He warned the other officer who examined Smitt.

If there isn’t anything else, I’ll take my wife to our hotel to take care of her. This has been over taxing for her, which isn’t good for her. Jean started to move away with Su.

The Bobbie quickly stepped in front of them and placed a firm hand upon Jean’s chest. I’ll need you to stay put until the ambulance arrives so I can escort you the rest of the way, the Bobbie ordered as he inquired on his walkie-talkie the e.t.a. of the ambulance.

The answer came back twenty minutes. Jean glanced at Su. The color drained completely away from her demeanor. She looked up at him, a second later, her eyes rolled back into her head collapsing into unconsciousness. Jean swept her up into his arms and ran to the street. He signaled to an approaching taxi to stop. The cabbie took one glance at the situation, and decided he did not want to get involved. The taxi started moving into the other lane to pass them by. Jean stepped out into the roadway as the taxi passed by and landed his size thirteen shoe into the rear door of the taxi. It made a gigantic thud as the metal buckled under the inertia of the blow.

The cabbie screeched the taxi to a halt. He jumped out cursing as he came, You bloody bloke! Are you out of your bloody mind, kicking my door in? You’re going to pay for this!

Jean yanked the rear door open and laid Su on the seat.