The S-2 Project

By Jennifer Ferranno

Susan Kelsey has an ideal life. She has a career with an electronics development firm in a big city, a nice home and a new car. Coming from a small town, Susan finds herself uneasy with the city's crime rate. Being a pacifist she is stunned to discover she is being stalked by a thief and the police are unable to identify him. When the thief turns out to be a mass murderer who is targeting the highly classified S-2 Project her salvation comes in the form of an agent for Homeland Security. Their worlds and their ideas on law enforcement are totally opposite but even Susan realizes he is her only chance to survive. Neither of them counted on their emotions to get in the way and although opposites are supposed to attract, can Susan forget that the man who stole her heart carries a gun everywhere? When the tables are turned can she find the strength to do what it takes to save the agent's life?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 17, 2004
• ISBN: 9780595761425

Jennifer Ferranno

Jennifer Ferranno has been spinning stories since grade school. Having been raised in a house with a library, she learned to love reading at an early age. She resides with her cat, Page, in Orange Park, FL.

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All Rights Reserved © 2004 by Jennifer Ferranno

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher.

iUniverse, Inc.

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iUniverse, Inc.

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Lincoln, NE 68512

ISBN: 0-595-31326-4

ISBN: 978-0-5957-6142-5(eBook)

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

My Dedication

Prologue

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

My Dedication 

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I would like to take a moment to thank several people who have provided input and moral support throughout the writing of this novel.

The first and possibly the most important person who deserves a thank you would be my boss, Tony Shokunbi. He has proven to me that there are still men in the world who have honor and integrity. His unwavering friendship and support of my writing has seen me through some tough spots in this book as well as on the job. I am grateful to have one of the few employers in the free world who treats his employees with respect and is aboveboard and honest. He is the type of person heroes are fashioned from and his professionalism and kindness have kept me going long after the black coffee stopped working. I feel very blessed to have him as a friend as well as a boss. (His wife is a very lucky lady.)

A writer’s life is usually lonely due to hours at the computer making up people who only exist in their own mind. But along the way I have managed to find a few good friends who share the excitement. My cheering squad in Fernandina Beach has helped me over the bumps in the road when the words didn’t want to come when I wanted them to. To Rose and Maxine who read and re-read this manuscript from first idea to last period.... Bless You! Then there are my email pals who keep me encouraged from places all over the globe and I thank them for being there in the wee hours of the mornings; just a mouse click away.

I need to take time to thank my dad, Paul Hoover, who puts up with my weird work schedule, my weirder writing schedule and my grumpy attitude when the words don’t flow. My dad is the one responsible for my talent, since I inherited it from him. He is a very talented poet and songwriter. I am equally thankful to my son Michael who has always been supportive and helpful. To my grand daughter Amanda I can only advise you to keep writing and follow your dreams.

For the many other people who are a part of my life, I love you all.

Prologue 

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The man remained in his seat until all the other passengers stood to exit the plane, then stood and merged into the line, brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his slacks and ran his fingers through his brown wavy hair. He had taken great care with his appearance in order to blend in with the rest of the travelers. It wouldn’t do to get himself detained trying to fly across the country or have someone notice him. His clothes came from a consignment shop in New Mexico and made him look like a business man on holiday. He ran his hand across his beard. Well, maybe more like an artist looking for the perfect sunrise to paint. He had been careful before boarding to check his pockets and passed through the airport screeners without a problem. He smiled at the flight attendant as he passed her.

Enjoy your vacation in Florida sir, she said with a sincere smile.

I plan to, he stated calmly. He moved along the carpeted corridor with the other passengers, down the escalator to the baggage area to wait for his piece of luggage. Only one piece. He didn’t plan to be in Jacksonville very long. His contact had given him directions to the firm that was designing the top secret project. He had a map of the city, a car parked in the airport parking garage and a small furnished apartment. Even though there was a seven month lease signed, he didn’t plan to be here longer than two months; three at the most. The lease was for appearances only. Not as long as he’d been in the other cities. The authorities had to be getting close to him. He laughed to himself. Not close enough to catch him before he got his hands on the project. Then he would be on his way out of the country. Odd how he didn’t think of the United States as home, since he’d been born in Buffalo, New York.

He wondered how many people he would kill to get what he wanted this time. The thought made him laugh out loud. He regretted his timetable had

been sped up. He couldn’t play the cat and mouse games this time. It was fun to taunt his victims for weeks, staying one step ahead of them.terrorizing them, seeing the fear in their faces.. .before he killed them.

CHAPTER 1 

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Susan Kelsey sat in the cafeteria on the top floor of the Hawks Electronics office building, nibbling on her salad while reading the newspaper. Occasionally she would glance out the window at the heavy midday traffic on the street below. As the director of marketing she paid close attention to advertising layouts used by other businesses. Hawks designed a variety of electronic items, invented by different people. They also designed projects for the government and the military, but those were sometimes classified and did not require a marketing strategy on her part. Susan had worked for Hawks in Tallahassee while she was going to college there. After her graduation, they offered her a promotion and she moved from her small town of Tanner Springs to the big city. Jacksonville was a city of interstates intertwined with paved roads that seemed to exist simply to make her driving experience a nightmare. Everything in this town was spread out over miles and miles from the beaches to the Regency area where she lived, over bridges into downtown. She glanced casually around the room. Most of the other people eating lunch were wearing Hawks ID badges. It was simpler to eat here than to tackle the roads and restaurants near the Southside office park at lunchtime. The office complex consisted of several buildings and was much too big for her to know everyone’s name and it seemed new people were always being hired. Hawks had smaller laboratories and offices in Atlanta, New York and Houston, plus the one in Tallahassee. A man at the next table met her glance and offered her a sincere smile. She smiled back and returned to her newspaper.

Susan folded the newspaper and motioned for her co-worker to join her at the table, moving her cell phone as her friend Karen set her tray down.

Anything in there worth reading? Karen asked pointing toward the paper. Karen Sims was just the opposite of Susan. She had been born into a very wealthy family and made no secret about working only so she could meet eligible, wealthy bachelors. She had no intention of making sales a career, but she was still extremely good at her job. Her idea of reading the paper was to read her horoscope and the editorials. She did, however, watch the talk shows faithfully, taping the ones that were on while she was at work.

Same as always. People committing crimes. People getting shot by other people. I wish the government would do something. I mean, every day it seems there are more shootings. When are they going to figure out that if they took the guns away, people wouldn’t get killed. Guns are the cause of all this high crime. Susan absently shoved a lock of her auburn hair behind her left ear.

Not to mention, Karen added, the poor kids who get shot. I heard on TV that at least 5 to 10 kids die every day. I heard more kids die by gunshots than by any other way. Yet nothing is done about it.

Susan nodded. I think it’s okay for the police to have guns but nobody else should have them. If they stopped selling them there would be no way crooks could get them.

Yeah, I agree. What about those hunting rifles? I mean they even have night scopes. Karen asked, warming up to one of her favorite topics. Her parents had successfully lobbied for stricter gun control laws in New York.

There is no reason to hunt those poor animals. We buy our meat in the grocery store. Nobody needs to go kill for food. It’s downright cruel. I don’t know why there aren’t laws.

Besides, Karen said as she nibbled on her own salad, Eating animals is bad for your health. Any idiot knows better. But you know it’s a testosterone thing. Man has been hunting and killing since Adam and Eve.

The man who had smiled at her was shaking his head as he overheard their conversation. Susan glared at him, noticing that he didn’t wear a Hawks ID badge, but a visitors badge instead. It was obvious he had been listening and just as obvious he thought her opinion was dumb. She and Karen had run into his kind before. I suppose you think differently, she said with a challenge. Immediately she chastised herself for snapping at a total stranger. Her brown eyes met his blue ones and she admired his perfect facial features. He wore a tee shirt that hugged a broad chest, accented by a denim jacket. It wasn’t like her to take the offensive, but the amount of crime in this city angered her.

He arched a blonde brow and grinned, displaying deep dimples and straight white teeth. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. It’s a free country. I just hope you never get burglarized. Sometimes having a firearm can save your life.

That’s lame. A burglar would take it away and use it. Besides, if I confronted someone breaking in my house he would run or be arrested. That’s why we have police. You simply dial 911. They come out and haul him away. Susan explained softly, speaking in the same tone she would use on a small child.

If you can get to a phone. Somehow, I doubt a burglar would want you to make that call. Not to mention that by the time the local cops showed up he would be long gone. Probably with your possessions, if not your life.

Well, if I couldn’t get to a phone, I would just scream. That would scare him away. I mean, the neighbors would come to the rescue. The neighbors would call 911 if they heard me scream.

Karen frowned. Besides, if a person did have a gun in the house, think how long it would take to unlock the gun cabinet and then load it. Quicker to call the police. That’s what we pay taxes for.

The man shook his head. Lady, you’re living in a fairy tale. You’re like a lot of women. You don’t think about the consequences. Do the math. One thousand cops and one million residents. This city, for instance, is the biggest city in the country in square miles. The nearest cop could be fifteen miles away. The average response time to a 911 call is thirty minutes or more. A lot can happen to a woman in thirty minutes while she’s waiting for the cavalry to arrive. If you don’t want to shoot a burglar you can at least hold him at gun point until the boys in blue arrive.

Susan shook her head. I live in a very nice neighborhood. We don’t have criminals breaking into houses. Your way of thinking went out with cowboys in the wild west. Civilized people don’t settle differences with a gun.

Karen stared at him, her eyes raking over his body. You even dress like a cowboy.

He chuckled. Nice that you noticed. A man would have to be struck dumb and blind not to do his own noticing. Both of the women were extremely attractive. They both wore Hawks Electronics ID badges. He made a mental note to find out who they were. Especially the redhead. She was a natural beauty. The blonde was a bit brash for his tastes. He would definitely make it a point to see the redhead again, maybe when she didn’t have her friend with her. He had noticed the redhead when she entered the cafeteria. She had class and her earlier smile had been genuine. Her clothes were professional and

ladylike, unlike her friend who wore a miniskirt and low cut sweater. Those types were a dime a dozen.

Who wouldn’t notice? Every other man here is wearing a dress shirt and tie. You come in here in tee shirt and jeans. Karen snapped, not wanting to admit she had indeed been noticing. "Even though you’re just a visitor, it would seem you could dress decently in a professional atmosphere.

Sorry, I didn’t realize there was a dress code, he taunted. Geeze lady, are you always this rude? He held back his opinion of her attire. She looked like she was going to be standing on a street corner at midnight. The redhead lowered her eyes when he smiled at her. It appeared she was embarrassed by her friend, but too polite to say so.

Karen frowned. Not toward civilized people.

Well, I just came to pick someone up. I didn’t dress this way to offend your ridiculous sensibilities. He stood up and brushed a crumb from the front of his jeans. Yep, cowboy.. .that’s me. Right down to my boots.

The dining room door opened and a girl entered, dressed in a light blue business suit. Susan saw the Hawks Electronics ID badge, but didn’t know which department the girl worked in. The girl crossed over to the cowboy and placed a light kiss on his cheek. Sorry I’m late. Thanks for rescuing me, Derrick. I didn’t mean to pull you away from work. You’re always such a lifesaver.

Not a problem. I was just having an enlightening conversation with these two lovely ladies. Do you know them? They work at Hawks too, Derrick stated the obvious.

The girl glanced at Susan and Karen and nodded. They work in the corporate offices in management.

Susan flushed slightly. Who would have thought the man knew someone who worked for her company? I’m Susan Kelsey, director of marketing. This mouthy woman is Karen Sims. She’s our top sales rep. I’ve not seen you in the building.

I’m Veronica Makay. I just started in the design department last week.

Well, welcome to Hawks, Susan said politely. She was aware of the man’s blue eyes lingering on her.

The man smiled at them, then turned to Veronica. Let’s go see about your car. Ladies, maybe we can continue our conversation later. I found your ideas on crime control interesting. To put it mildly.

Karen frowned. I doubt it. You don’t seem to be the type to listen to reason.

He grinned. Well, your mind is made up anyway, he said. I wouldn’t want to confuse you with facts and statistics. He winked at them and followed Veronica out the door.

Susan groaned. Sometimes, Sims, you can be downright rude to people.

Sorry. Idiots like that annoy me.

Besides, I think he looked great in those jeans and shirt, Susan chuckled. And you cannot convince me you didn’t notice those biceps and that body. A woman would have to be dead not to notice him in a crowd.

Better to drag a woman off to his cave or toss her over a horse. Karen snorted. He’s probably got those ugly tattoos on his arms. Why else would he wear a jacket?

Still you didn’t have to be so sharp. He’s entitled to his opinion, even if it is outdated and macho.

He started it. He was eavesdropping. I would have ignored him if he hadn’t been so smug. He’s the brainless, macho type. Good for opening jar lids but not much else.

Well, Miss Makay seems to find him appealing. Susan said with a grin.

Some women like that sort of man.

Susan laughed. Yeah, women who are breathing. Fess up, Sims. Derrick the Cowboy was a solid hunk.

Karen pouted. Ok, I fess up. He was a solid hunk. But certainly not the type I could ever find interesting. You know I like a man who has something to offer besides just his body. I need a man who can afford to take me nice places for dinner and who showers me with expensive and meaningless trinkets. If I need someone to fix my car I’ll call my mechanic.

Wonder what he does for a living? Susan mused. She wondered what his relationship to Miss Makay was, but she wouldn’t voice that out loud. Karen would talk her ears off. In Karen’s book, a man was only worthy if he was rich.

Probably construction. Something physical. Maybe he’s a mechanic. Those types have no brains. I mean, how much of an IQ could it take to change a tire? Not management material, that’s for sure.

Susan didn’t bother to point out that her father was, in fact, a mechanic and Susan knew from her own experience how difficult that career was. They took the elevator down to the twenty-fifth floor, to Susan’s office. Derrick the Cowboy was forgotten as the day continued. When Susan glanced at her watch it was past six. She groaned. It was Tuesday; her day for stopping by the store before tackling the heavy traffic going home. Her life had worked into a simple routine since she moved to the city. She shopped at the store near her office each and every Tuesday after work. It was a habit she brought from the small town. Usually each Wednesday and Thursday she met Karen after work at a bar and grill at the mall near the office for dinner and drinks. It never made sense to cook dinner for just herself and eating out was a break from eating frozen entrees.

She scooped up her handbag and cell phone, found her car keys and left the building. Her new teal Thunderbird sat alone in the parking garage. She casually glanced around, content to know she worked in a building with a well lit garage and security. By the time she got to the store, did some grocery shopping the rush hour traffic would be gone. One of the bad things about living in the city was the traffic. She still got nervous on the expressway, especially when semi trucks zipped by her. It still seemed odd to her that such a tiny town as Tanner Springs could be a few hours drive from a city the size of Jacksonville. She finally discovered if she worked late and ran errands, she could miss most of the heavy traffic. She eased into the flow of cars and headed toward the food store.

CHAPTER 2 

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Susan put her groceries in the trunk and tossed her handbag and cell phone onto the passenger seat. The grocery store hadn’t been too busy, so she still had a few minutes before the rush hour traffic dwindled down. She frowned. She forgot to pick up any lettuce for her salads. She turned and hurried back into the