Secret Rescue: INTERSAR, #1

By Darren Alexander

A morning jog sends Amelia running for her life.

Veterinarian Amelia Chapman loved the life she made in Austin. She had a stable career, a new car, her own home, and wonderful, supportive friends. Until a case of "wrong time, wrong place" lands her in the witness protection program.

The Nuevo León Cartel is responsible for the majority of kidnappings and executions in the Texas border town of Laredo. When they assassinate a Texas Senator in the state capital of Austin, they're quickly apprehended and convicted with the help of sole witness, Amelia Chapman.

Three years later, Amelia has a new identity, new job, and a new life when the death of a co-worker brings Nuevo León back into her world. With the help of a U.S. Marshal, a billionaire philanthropist, and a pale woman with a shady background, Amelia must face one of Mexico's top assassins.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dark Roast Publishing
• Release date: Sep 3, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533787767

Book preview

Chapter One

Amelia Chapman ran along Barton Creek away from the Colorado River. Her long brown ponytail waved side-to-side with each step. The system of trails she used took her down to Lady Bird Lake. Rain or snow, she ran here every morning since arriving in Austin. The varying distances and different paths allowed her to change the scenery whenever she grew bored. The neighborhood and the climate drew her out like a magnet.

Shortly after earning her Doctor of Veterinary Medicine degree from Purdue, Amelia followed her then-boyfriend and jogging partner to Texas so he could join his family law firm; the appealing climate was a bonus. Attending college in Indiana had limited their running due to class workloads and the very cold winters. While the Texas warmth sparked their desire to run, a few months around his judgmental family turned their romance as cold as the Indiana winters.

Going out at four in the morning facilitated her work schedule and gave her the freedom to explore the different paths without the hassle of many other runners, cyclists, or walkers. People jogged or sprinted by her with intense focus, giving a nod or quick raise of the hand as a greeting. She assumed those people had the same goal she did, peace and quiet. The only interruption to her workout was an encounter with a friend or one of her patients and their humans and she would stop briefly to talk. She felt comfortable here.

Having been a recreational runner since high school, Amelia was fast. While she may not earn the nickname lightning, most of the people she encountered in the mornings had trouble keeping up with her in both speed and distance. She usually kept a little energy in reserve in case she ever had to escape a would-be mugger... Or worse. The area was pretty safe, but you could never be too careful.

I need a dog, she thought. She enjoyed the peace and quiet of the early morning, but having a companion like a dog would deter the crazies. A Rhodesian ridgeback would be perfect; fast and muscular with a big bark and teeth to match.

She snapped her wandering thoughts back as a runner approached from the opposite direction. She slowed a bit and watched as the distance between them closed. As the woman passed beneath a light, Amelia recognized her as the owner of one of her patients.

Between heavy breaths, the woman nodded and said, Good morning, Dr. Chapman.

Good morning, Denise, Amelia replied, noticing to her delight that she was not breathing as heavily.

Without another word, Amelia watched the woman pass. Something about Denise caught her attention. Not quite able to put her finger on it, she watched the woman fade back into the darkness. Amelia faced forward and replayed the encounter. She was about to give up when it hit her; Denise lost weight. Good for her.

Smiling at the thought, she picked up the pace for the last mile to get her heart rate a little higher. Sometimes she would sprint the last hundred yards, or at least do what passed for sprinting after a long run.

A minute later, a second runner drew near at a fast pace. He stared intently forward, then glanced quickly at her and nodded before rushing past. She returned the nod but did not look behind her this time. She knew from experience he was probably slowing so he could look back and take a gander at her ass. Once Amelia was out of sight, he would pick up speed until he caught up with Denise where he would slow again and stare until she realized someone was behind her. Amelia saw this happen more times than not. It was annoying but nothing she couldn’t live with. She knew her black and pink, body hugging, compression capris and matching sports bra attracted unwanted attention, but she learned to ignore the stares.

Finally, with the parking lot in sight, Amelia decided to skip the sprint and slowed to a walk. Leaving the path, she made her way across the dewy grass to some playground equipment near the parking lot. She liked to relax and recover by walking around the playground then laying on the cool slide, gazing at the stars.

Just before reaching the playground, she noticed two men in the parking lot arguing beside a black limousine. They were only a few feet apart and each man had two other men standing behind him. The two arguing were well dressed in jeans and sport coats and were a little out of place at the park at five in the morning. They were too far away for Amelia to hear what was being said. To be honest, she didn’t care what the issue was.

As she reached the slide, one of the men raised his hand and Amelia saw what appeared to be a gun. There was a flash but no sound. The two men behind him quickly raised guns of their own and fired multiple, silent shots at the other three men. All three victims fell to the ground before they could react. Amelia froze, comprehension slowly coming to her.

Oh my God! she gasped in a whisper.

Realizing she just made a sound, she dropped to the ground and crawled behind the slide. Hidden in the shadows, she stopped and tried to slow her breathing in hopes that nobody would hear her. The three killers looked around and started walking toward a black SUV about twenty feet from them. Amelia dropped her head, exhaling with relief. Then, her cell phone rang.

Frantically, she yanked off the case that was strapped to her arm and turned off the phone. The three men halted their steps and looked in her direction. They had clearly heard a sound, but Amelia hoped they were too far away to be sure of what it was they’d heard. Maybe they would think it was just background noise, or a squirrel.

Yeah, she thought, a squirrel with an acorn that plays Pachelbel’s "Canon."

Riding an emotional pendulum between paralyzing fear and sanity-protecting humor, Amelia held her breath, lips tight. The men took tentative steps toward the playground, their gazes scanning back and forth as if watching a slow motion tennis match. Confirming that the power to her phone was off, Amelia eased deeper into the shadows, moving further beneath the playground equipment.

The men stopped just outside the playground and scrutinized the area, their weapons following their eyes. Amelia could clearly see who she believed to be the leader, his face lit by the parking lot lights. He was Latino, probably Mexican, with deep-set eyes and a neatly trimmed mustache and beard. Even through the jacket he wore she could see he was very muscular. His head stopped moving and he seemed to look straight at her. 

Could he see her? She didn’t think so, since he didn't move toward her or alert his companions. He stared into the shadows for what seemed like hours, the barrel of his gun growing wider with each passing second. Her heart hammered in her chest and her eyes burned with sweat, but she didn’t dare wipe her face for fear they would see the movement. Slow, shallow breaths were depriving her brain of oxygen; she thought she might pass out. Then he turned and walked back to the SUV, the other two men speed walking to catch up. All three got in and left the parking lot, tires squealing as the vehicle rounded the corner.

Amelia couldn’t move. She stared in disbelief at the three bodies in the parking lot. She could hear the blood pounding up her neck and into her head; every breath felt like broken glass in her lungs.  She was certain if she got up, the black SUV would return and Mr. Dark Eyes would kill her. After several minutes, she finally pulled out her phone, turned it on, and dialed 911.

****

The next several weeks were a blur. Amelia was contacted and questioned by both the FBI and DEA. She identified Dark Eyes from a photo lineup and later learned he was Carlos Herrera, a Mexican national and third in command of the Cartel de Nuevo León.  Nuevo León was one of the largest cartels running drugs and laundering money through Texas. It was believed that Nuevo León was primarily responsible for a large number of kidnappings and executions in the Texas border town of Laredo. Though Amelia could not identify the other two killers, the DEA said Herrera never went anywhere without his brother Eberto and his childhood friend Marco Guzmán.

She also learned that the man who was arguing with, and murdered by, Herrera was William Gallagher, a Texas senator with a strong stance on border security and who was discretely under investigation for drug trafficking. The two men with him were his personal guards. The DEA determined that Gallagher’s meeting with Herrera was supposed to be a business deal. The two met several times without any problems. It was believed that because of this ongoing relationship, Gallagher’s guards were unprepared.

In a stroke of luck, Herrera’s SUV was pulled over for speeding about ten miles from the shooting site. Believing they were being stopped because of the shooting, one of Herrera’s men opened fire on the police. The police returned fire, killing Eberto and wounding Herrera and Guzmán. They were arrested and eventually charged with the murders of Senator Gallagher and his two guards.

With a trial pending, Amelia endured several rounds of questioning by the FBI, DEA, U.S. attorneys, and defense attorneys. Each round wore her down and intimidated her more than the previous one. She just wanted it to be over so she could get back to her life.

When is this going to end? Amelia asked wearily after a rather long interview.

I know you’re tired and this isn’t easy, replied U.S. Attorney Dale Harper, but if you can bear with us a little longer, we’ll have everything we need.

Really? she asked, her tone becoming sharp, Because I’m pretty sure I’m being followed.

His eyebrows raised in a silent question.

Some Latino, she continued, Mexican possibly. I think it’s the same guy. There could be more than one.

When did you see him? he asked.

Several times. I’ve seen him at the grocery store, at the mall, at restaurants, on the street. If I make eye contact, he turns away. I’ve even seen cars make several of the same turns I do, even if I make random turns.

The same car?

No, that much I’m sure of. It’s different each time, but when I could see the driver it looked like that guy.

All right, I want you to go home and stay there. I’m going to make few calls and see what we can do to help you.

She looked uncertain.

I’ll call you no later than eight tonight.

She reluctantly agreed and drove home, feeling more anxious now that she told someone about the man following her. She had seen too many movies where the good guy turned out to be working with the criminals. She could feel her stalker’s eyes on her as she made her way to her townhouse, although she never actually saw him. When she arrived at home, she sat in her car for several minutes watching traffic go by. When she was satisfied that she hadn’t been followed, she went inside.

Harper called her two hours before his deadline.

I’ve got someone from the U.S. Marshals Service I want you to meet. We’ll stop by tonight, Harper said enthusiastically.

The Marshals Service? she asked. Why are they involved?

They deal with protection. I’ll let him explain when we get there. We’ll be there in about an hour. Do not open the door for anyone but me. If someone shows up claiming to be a Marshal, call the police. He will not show up without me. Understood?

Yes, I understand, she replied.

Good, we’ll see you in an hour.

Chapter Two

Harper knocked on the front door of Amelia’s townhouse and called out, Miss Chapman, it’s U.S. Attorney Harper.

Amelia looked through the peephole in her door to see Harper and another man standing on her porch. She opened the door and was immediately greeted by Harper. The two men stepped inside and Amelia closed the door.

Harper turned to her with a big grin and said, Amelia, I want you to meet U.S. Marshal Brad Washington.

Washington was a massively built, six-foot-three man with a shaved head and mahogany skin. When he spoke, it was with a deep, Barry White voice, It’s a pleasure to meet you, Amelia. Although it would be nicer under different circumstances.

You’re here to protect me? she asked.

I’ll be in charge of your case, Washington replied. There’ll be several Marshals assigned to your protection detail.

Harper said, Washington is the best Marshal I know, you’ll be in good hands, Amelia. And on that note, I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, let me know.

I will, thank you, Amelia said.

After Harper left, Amelia turned to Washington and asked, So now what?

Well, do you have any questions?

Yes. Why are you here?

Because the U.S. Attorney’s Office and the FBI felt you may be in danger.

Because I told Harper I thought I was being followed? Since it’s only a drug cartel I didn’t warrant protection earlier?

Actually, the FBI had you under surveillance and notified us before Harper did.

Growing annoyed, Amelia spat, If they knew there was a problem, why didn’t they do anything? Why are they here if they’re helpless?

The FBI function like police. They can monitor, but unless there is an immediate threat, they can’t act. The Marshals have more freedom when it comes to witness protection. When a potential threat became apparent, we were notified.

Amelia screamed, Potential threat? When was I going to be informed of this potential threat?

I understand your anger and frustration; I feel it too. But I need you to calm down so I can tell you what’s going on.

Amelia said nothing. She stared at Washington, her defeated eyes filling with tears.

He took a tentative step toward her and reached for her hands. She looked at his hands for a moment and slowly took them in hers.

Believe me, he started, the whole process is as frustrating for me as it is for you. I have a hard time doing my job when I’m called in at the eleventh hour like this. So I really need your cooperation right now. If we can sit down, I’ll fill you in on what I know.

She nodded and gestured to a chair while she sat on the sofa.

I’m sorry, she said. I’m a little shaken up.

Don’t be sorry, none of this is your fault, you’re just stuck dealing with it. And I’m here to help you do that. Can I get you some water or something?

With a sob filled laugh, Amelia replied, It’s my home, I should be offering you the drink.

He flashed a brilliant, white smile and said, Not anymore.

She stared at him in disbelief.

One of my functions is to convince you to enter the witness protection program if I feel it’s necessary for your safety.

Her eyes narrowed and the muscles in her neck and cheeks visibly tightened as her jaw clenched.

Just hear me out. I can’t force you to do anything so don’t get defensive. He took a deep breath and continued. The FBI has been watching your home and office. An agent discretely follows you wherever you go. They’ve noticed suspicious vehicles and pedestrians following you. Pictures were taken and run through facial recognition software. License plates were checked and run through federal databases. Nothing ever turned up that warranted intervention. Thus tying the FBI’s hands.

He paused until she nodded her understanding.

The Special Agent in charge for this region decided to break protocol and called us yesterday due to the fact that it is a high ranking member of Nuevo León on trial. When he mentioned Nuevo León, I was immediately assigned to the detail. Harper actually called right before I was going to call him.

Why you?

Because I am the best at what I do. Nuevo León is not known for witness intimidation. They’re famous for making a statement through kidnapping and murder. Often involving dismemberment or decapitation.

Amelia visibly paled. Her stomach threatened an immediate evacuation of its contents and her heart thudded in her chest so hard she thought it might break a rib.

Seeing her reaction, Washington reached out and placed a hand on her knee.

She took a deep breath and fought to control her anxiety.

I don’t try to scare people, he said with a calming voice.

Maybe you should look up the definition of 'don’t,' she replied before he could continue.

He smiled softly and said, "It’s important that you understand who is out there. Nuevo León has resources that rival the U.S. government. They will find you if they want to. That’s why I’m here."

****

Within an hour, Amelia packed what she needed and two more Marshals arrived to escort them to a safe house. The FBI assisted in a search stretching three blocks in each direction before Washington would allow anyone near the townhouse. Now, Amelia was in the back of a black SUV, not unlike the one driven by Herrera the night of Senator Gallagher’s murder. The only difference Amelia could see was the armed escort three car lengths ahead of them and the FBI vehicle behind them.

At this point, the relocation is temporary. We need time to evaluate the threat and determine which tactic will benefit you the most, Washington said.

With hope in her voice, Amelia asked, Do you think the threat will go away after the trial?

He shook his head. I doubt it, I believe Nuevo León will keep looking for you even after the trial. He paused a moment. Amelia, I want you to consider entering witness protection permanently.

He watched her expression fall as she processed the information.

Will I be able to stay here in Austin?

No, we would move you to another state, give you a new identity, a new home, and set you up with the money to start over.

Her heart sank. Aside from the disappointing relationship that brought her here, Amelia loved the life she made in Austin. She had a stable career, a new car, her own home, and wonderful, supportive friends. And she accomplished all of it on her own. Now she was being told people she didn’t know, who were in a different country, were going to take that from her. Her gut wrenching disappointment evolved into anger as her focus returned to Washington.

You could either continue veterinary work or change careers completely, he continued. We help with all of that. We can even help with family members if necessary.

Amelia hadn’t heard from her parents in over a year. In fact, her parents hardly ever spoke to her and when they did it was to tell her all about their vacation or New Year’s party or their new car. They really didn’t seem concerned about the events in the life of their only child. Amelia believed if she were severely injured or sick, her parents might come state-side if their busy schedule allowed time for it.

For eighteen years, she was merely an anchor that prevented them from sailing out to the next great adventure. The day Amelia left for college, her parents left for the Far East. By the time she made it to grad school, her parents had sold their home and moved to Europe. For the first time in her life, Amelia had felt free. She no longer felt like an anchor and she was liberated from the weight she carried.

Family won’t be an issue, she replied. I’m an only child and my parents live in France; I doubt Nuevo Léon would go that far to find them.

Don’t be too sure, these guys are tenacious. He stared out the window for a minute, then turned to face her. Please Amelia, think about it. I don’t want anything to happen to you.

What did she have to think about? Amelia knew what she had to do and it sickened her. Her life ended the moment she saw the gun come out and she now knew she would suffer for it the rest of her life.

All right Washington, she said in a tear filled voice. I’ll do whatever you think is best.

Chapter Three

The anchor was back. But this time it kept Amelia from sailing out on a great adventure. For two months, she lived at the safe house under lock and key. It was her personal prison. All contacts were severed immediately and permanently. Washington reluctantly agreed to contact her parents to tell them what happened and that their daughter would no longer be able to contact them.

Once in a while, Harper would meet with her to go over her testimony. Other than that, she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere or contact anyone. In addition to Washington, there were four marshals staying at the house in rotating shifts. They would talk to her, but they weren’t there to make friends. They carefully avoided any personal details and were usually busy communicating with other marshals who were watching the house and neighborhood. Amelia never met them; they never came in and she never went out.

Is everyone assigned to me going to the courthouse? she asked Washington the day before her scheduled appearance.

No, he replied. We try to be as inconspicuous as possible. We’ll have two marshals you don’t know in the vehicle with us, but that’s it. We’ll have a private entrance at the courthouse that’s supervised by a guard.

Is that the safest way?

Absolutely. If we travel in a convoy, we might as well broadcast you’re there.

Why have marshals I don’t know with us?

Two reasons. One, with marshals not assigned to you, we have a fresh car that’s unknown to anyone watching, and two, if both the prosecution and defense excuse you, you’ll be leaving for your new life immediately after your testimony and I’m the only one who will know where you go. Those familiar with you are not involved in that phase.

Amelia thought about that. It unnerved her to realize that nobody would know where she was except Washington. She had grown to trust him, but the realization of never returning to her old life scared her. It wasn’t the same as when she moved to Austin. By the time she broke up with her boyfriend she’d met a few people there. Plus, there were old friends she could call from Purdue, or even high school, if she felt like talking. This time, there was nobody. 

The next day, Amelia was terrified. Her heart wanted to jump out of her chest and she couldn’t stop sweating. Her hands were balled into such tight fists they tingled from a lack of blood. She had two months to think about who she was testifying against and what their friends would do to her if they found her. They would know where she was today.

When the car arrived, Washington escorted her outside. He meticulously scanned everything with a hawk-like gaze. When they reached the car, he opened the door and climbed in after her.

This is Marshal Long and Marshal Patterson, he said but he didn’t introduce her. He even kept her from bringing any belongings with them, as the items could be used to identify her. She would have to replace everything when they got to wherever they were ultimately going.

The two marshals raised a hand in greeting as the car pulled away from the curb. Even with the armed escorts, the drive was agonizing. Amelia watched every vehicle they passed, expecting to see gunmen waiting for her to pass by. She was closed in. Her breathing became rapid and shallow as the car shrank around her, increasing her exposure with each mile. There was little comfort, even with Washington beside her. She wished she were invisible.

At one stop light, Amelia noticed two large Latino men watching the car. They seemed to be taking special interest in her. Trying to avoid their stare, she faced forward and waited what felt like hours for the light to change. As the light finally turned green, she glanced at them and her heart turned to ice as one of the men smiled, made the shape of a gun with his finger and thumb and pretended to shoot her. She spun forward again, not believing what she just saw. Surely it was her imagination; sleep had all but eluded her the past several days, after all.

When the courthouse came into sight, Amelia saw a large crowd of media gathered near the front entrance and her stomach lurched. She averted her gaze to the floor, but not before noticing three more Latino men in the crowd. Two of them resembled the men at the stop light: large and intimidating. The third was average-sized and older. But that wasn’t what stood out to Amelia. His eyes caught hers just before she looked away. Just that quick glimpse froze her blood. Those were the eyes of power, of control, and of death. This time she knew it wasn’t her imagination. 

In a panic, she spun to face Washington and all but screamed, We aren’t going through there are we? What if an assassin is hiding in the crowd? Won’t they be hard to spot? It’s too dangerous, right?

Relax, he replied, waving the concern off as he leaned away from her. We’re going through a private entrance in the back of the building. Nobody will have access except us.

Are you sure? she asked unconvinced.

Listen, nobody is going to hurt you, not here and not while I’m watching you. He paused and made direct, unwavering eye contact. I will not let anything happen to you.

With her breath and heart rate slowing, Amelia replied, I’m sorry, just a little nervous.

I understand; remember I’ll be beside you until you go up on the stand. He gestured toward the men in the front seats. Marshal Long and Marshal Patterson will accompany us in and out of the building.

Fine, she replied. Thank you, Washington.

It is all my pleasure.

They drove around the courthouse to a parking garage marked private. There was a heavy crossbar that blocked the entrance, stopping the vehicle. An armed guard appeared at the window and Washington showed him his badge. The guard scrutinized it, looking at the ID and at Washington several times. He finally nodded and returned it to him.

The only other person allowed in here is the judge and he’s already in chambers, the guard stated. If you see anyone else in there, do not leave your vehicle. You are to turn around and leave immediately. I’ll lockdown the garage and the FBI will investigate.

Got it, Washington replied as he rolled up his window.

Long slowly circled the interior of the garage before stopping the car directly in front of the door. Both Long and Patterson got out and met on Amelia’s side. Long opened her door as Patterson opened the door to the courthouse.

Amelia glanced back at the garage entrance, but couldn’t see the guard. She paused, wondering if the guard was one of them. It seemed like the garage would be a perfect place to start shooting; they would be trapped in the car, waiting for the bullet that would rip into her, ending her life. Washington gave her a gentle nudge and followed her out of the car. She could smell old oil and gasoline as if the garage had been abandoned several years before. The isolation sent a shiver through her and she desperately wanted to be inside. Flanked by Washington and Long, she hurried through the doorway and into the building. Patterson shut the door and followed them to the elevator.

The third floor hallway was empty, increasing Amelia’s isolated feeling. Patterson stayed just outside the elevator door and gave her a reassuring smile. It didn’t help. The emptiness and echoing silence unnerved her as they made their way down the hall. Her stomach was so tense, she thought she’d vomit before they even made it to the courtroom. Long stopped by the door and stood to the side like a sentry. Washington nodded approval as he and Amelia entered the courtroom.

The change in atmosphere nearly gave her a seizure. She wanted the feeling of isolation to disappear, but the few people in the court room made her wish for it again. Only the courtroom staff and attorneys were in attendance, but their presence made everything very real. Her chest constricted with the weight of every glance and the impact of every exhale from the people in the room. Her legs no longer wanted to work and Washington practically had to carry her to their seats. When they were finally situated, Washington leaned toward her.

Just relax and answer the questions as best you can, he reminded her. Don’t let anybody trip you up, if you are unsure as to what the question is, ask them to repeat it or tell them you don’t understand the question. The defense may try to bully you, don’t let them. Harper will try to protect you as much as possible.

Amelia smiled and said, I wish I were as calm as you. Thanks, Washington.

The trial resumed and with the room’s attention on the proceedings, she felt some of the pressure ease. She took deep, calming breaths, trying to get her nerves to relax.

When Amelia finally took the stand, she calmed down enough to appear in control.

Miss Chapman, the judge began, I want to make it clear that the testimony you give today will be used in the trials of both Carlos Herrera and Marco Guzmán. And you will be cross examined by attorneys for both defendants. Is that your understanding?

Yes, Your Honor, she replied.

I also want to state on record that this part of the trial is closed for the protection of the witness. In addition, neither defendant will be present until the witness has left the courtroom. While this may be a tad unorthodox, the court has determined the threat to the witness outweighs the need for the defendants to be present. Both Mr. Herrera and Mr. Guzmán are represented by their respective counsel. If there are no questions, Mr. Harper, you may proceed.

U.S. Attorney Harper greeted the jury before turning to Amelia. He paused and smiled at her, trying to ease her nerves. Then he handed her two pictures.

Miss Chapman, do you recognize the men in these pictures? Harper asked.

Yes, she replied. These are pictures of two of the men I saw shoot Senator Gallagher and his bodyguards.

Excellent. Would you please walk us through the morning Senator Gallagher was killed?

Amelia replayed the morning in her mind, not wanting to miss anything. Then, with a few clarifying questions from Harper, she described that morning in the park. Her nerves calmed as she spoke and watched Harper walk around the courtroom. When she described the shooting and how she hid among the playground equipment, her eyes sought Washington. His smile grounded her and gave her the strength to continue without wavering.

She glanced at the jury as she finished and could see they were listening intently. A few jury members were leaning forward in their seats while others seemed to study her expression as she voiced her final words.

Harper gave her a sly grin and said, Miss Chapman, can you tell the jury about your last few months in protective custody and why you are entering the witness protection program?

Objection! Both defense attorneys shouted simultaneously.

Sustained, the judge said, glaring at Harper. Miss Chapman’s current situation has no impact on this trial Mr. Harper. The jury will ignore that question.

Sorry your honor, I have no more questions, Harper said as he turned to sit down.

Amelia caught the grin on his face. He told her during preparation she wouldn’t be allowed to talk about her stalkers or witness protection as it may influence the jury’s decision. But, by simply mentioning it, Harper planted the idea without Amelia having to say a word. She was relieved he managed to get through his questions so quickly, but now she faced the defense.

Herrera’s attorney stood and gestured to the other defense attorney.

Your Honor, Timothy Michaels representing Mr. Herrera. Mr. McKenna and I have the same questions for this witness and we’ve agreed I will ask those questions. In the interest of time, we are willing to stipulate Miss Chapman’s answers will be the same in relation to both cases if the prosecution is willing to stipulate the questions are the same in both cases.

The judge turned to Harper with a questioning look.

The United States agrees to stipulate, Harper said.

Thank you, the attorney said. He approached the stand. Miss Chapman, you stated the sun was not up when you observed the shooting, is that correct?

Amelia took a deep, calming breath but did not make eye contact. That is correct.

How is it that you were able to see the faces of the shooters from the distance you described in the dark?

Her heart rate began to increase. There were lights in the parking lot.

But that is still quite a distance to make out an unknown face.

As I said before, the three shooters approached my location after my phone rang.

You mean your location beneath the playground equipment.

That’s correct, she replied. She was getting quite nervous about the line of questioning. Pressure was building in her chest, but she felt she was overreacting. Harper told her the defense would likely not attack her on the stand for fear of appearing aggressive toward a victim. She decided she was going to look him in the eye, challenging him to come after her. If Harper was right, the attorney would back down.

And the equipment didn’t block your view in any way? Perhaps allowing you only a partial view of the suspects?

Looking him directly in the eye, she replied, No, there were no obstructions.

So no bars or ropes or swing chains, nothing like that?

Amelia’s throat tightened. She could sense where this was going, he was trying to create doubt in her testimony. If either of these guys were released, she’d be dead. Never mind the men she thought were outside, these two killers knew who she was and would definitely come after her.  She had to convince the jury she had a clear view of the shooters.

Miss Chapman? Michaels asked.

Regaining her composure, she said, I was behind a slide, there were no bars, ropes, or chains between the defendants and myself.

You’re positive?

Mr. Michaels, I ran in that park every day and always stopped at the slide afterwards, I can promise you, there was nothing between myself and the shooters other than the slide.

The attorney was taken aback by the force in her statement. He glanced at the jury and saw their shift to her side. Standing up to him was all she had to do and she did just that. Had she gone overboard and tried to look like she was being bullied, the move would have backfired. But standing firm was one of the best ways to influence a jury. He lost, any further questioning would hurt his case.

Michaels nodded and said, No further questions.

Amelia’s heart soared. Relief flooded her body as she was dismissed from the stand. She caught Washington’s smiling eyes as she walked across the room.

He broke eye contact and said, Thank you, Your Honor.

The judge replied, Thank you, Miss Chapman.

Amelia smiled at the judge as Washington led her out of the courtroom. The hallway remained empty except for Marshal Long, who was still by the door. The group turned and proceeded to the elevator. As the door closed, she turned to Washington.

"I’m so