Brogan - Breathe: a suspense thriller

Doctor Nell Northam is abducted by jihadists to help them launch a weapon. The President asks his top security advisor, Donovan Rourke, to stop the attack. But when Donovan and Nell are finally ready to stop it, they realize theyve been deceived and that thousands of Americans are about to die.

A suspense thriller.

MIKE BROGAN

Lighthouse

Also by Mike Brogan

Business to Kill For

Dead Air

Madisons Avenue

G8

Kentucky Woman

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2017
By Mike Brogan

All rights reserved

ISBN 978-0-9980056-7-6

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017941349

Printed in the United States of America
Published in the United States by Lighthouse Publishing

Cover design: Vong Lee

First Edition

This book is dedicated to the men and women of the FBI, CIA, Homeland Security, Police, and US Military who risk their lives to protect ours.

Contents

Acknowledgments

To Andrew Manning, former-FBI Special Agent, for his helpful suggestions and insights into the challenges facing FBI agents each day as they protect our citizens.

To the experts at the US Militarys Aberdeen Proving Ground for their helpful counsel on weapons of mass destruction and related subjects.

To my fellow novelists and writing colleagues for their suggestions that made this story better.

To editor/translator, Brendan Brogan, for his insightful review and improvements to the rough draft of BREATHE.

To author, Rebecca M. Lyles, for her comprehensive final edit and enhancements to the manuscript of BREATHE.

And to my wife, Marcie, and the family for their endless patience with the distracted writer in residence.

ONE

MANHATTAN

N ell Northam thought her sister, Lindee, looked good. Eight months ago Lindee looked dead.

A man had attacked her in her apartment and left her to bleed out. Nell found Lindee with no pulse and did CPR until an ambulance rushed her to Mount Sinai where her heart stopped twice in the ER. But she was resuscitated.

Days later, she emerged from a coma and began a slow recovery. Her doctor called her The Miracle Girl.

Today, the Miracle Girl seemed almost back to normal, if you forgot about the three dead-bolt locks on her apartment door, two alarm systems, and her sweat-drenched nightmares.

Nell had flown up from Virginia for their annual Sisters-ShopTill-We-Drop-Athon. She had her eye out for a few items, but really wanted to make sure her younger sister was recovering physically and psychologically. So far it appeared she was.

Nell turned and looked in a shop window and couldnt believe her eyes. Found it!

What? Lindee said, two shops ahead.

That beautiful Michael Kors purse Ive been lusting after.

In brown?

Brown and on sale!

Look at what else is on sale! Lindee said, pointing in her window.

What?

Those Cole Haan shoes youve also been on the prowl for!

No way!

Im looking at them!

Nell was amazed. Theyd been shopping for only four hours and shed already found the two items she wanted most just a few feet apart. On sale! What were the odds?

She looked back at the attractive leather purse. Why 50%-off? She couldnt see any flaws. Even if it had a flaw, it was good enough for her.

She heard footsteps come close. Suddenly two men grabbed her from behind.

She tried to scream, but a huge male hand clamped her mouth shut. She struggled against arms that felt like steel bands. The big man and a short man dragged her quickly toward an open van.

This is not happening! Nell thought, as they lifted her into the van.

Lindee turned, saw her, and shouted - STOP! LET HER GO! HELP!

But a truck horn blasted, drowning out Lindees cries.

The big man pushed Nell down on the van floor as the van sped away from the curb.

* * *

Lindee slumped against a parking meter, watching the van disappear into heavy traffic. Im having another nightmare!

But then she saw Nells earring near the curb.

My God - Nell was taken! She grabbed the earring and called 911.

My sister was just taken by two men in a van!

Where are you maam?

On Broadway near 67th. Not far from Barneys.

What kind of van?

Long. White. Big windows along the side. It looked new.

Did you see the license plate?

Lindee paused. The last number was maybe a... nine.

Which direction was the van driving on Broadway? North or south?

I dont know.

Away from Columbus Circle?

Yes.

What was your sister wearing?

Lindee told her.

Remain there, maam. Keep your phone on. Were sending a police car immediately.

Please hurry!

Her mind spinning, Lindee stared at the spot where they grabbed Nell. She prayed it was just another one of her crazy nightmares.

But she knew it wasnt.

Her sister was just abducted.

TWO

D onovan Rourke sat in his CIA office in Manhattan, one of the CIA offices scattered throughout Midtown, Lower Manhattan, and Brooklyn.

He was relaxing between meetings and gazing out at the sun-drenched leaves in the nearby park. He liked how the leaves blended from lime green to emerald. The greens always calmed him until the next crisis, which looked like it might be walking into his office right now.

Mamie, his smart, organized, fifty-something, Nigerian-born assistant, had that somethings-up look on her face. She pointed at his phone.

Gods on one! she said.

Tell Him Im busy.

Everyones a comedian!

Whats the Director want?

No idea. Meanwhile, heres more stuff for you. She smiled as she dumped a stack of paperwork and folders in his inbox, and walked out.

More stuff, how nice. He had enough. Nine months ago the Director of National Intelligence, Michael Madigan, and the President appointed Donovan as a Special Advisor on terrorism, and head of a new secret covert group affiliated with the CIA. Donovan had been honored by the appointment. He coordinated closely with the FBI and other Manhattan-based anti-terrorism groups because Manhattan was the golden magnet for terrorist groups.

But each week he had to fly to Washington, sometimes twice or more, to huddle with various national security groups and DNI Madigan. The weekly travel was starting to wear thin with him and Maccabee, his wife. Theyd been considering whether relocating to Washington would make things easier for their family.

Line one buzzed.

DNI Madigan, the most powerful man in the United States Intelligence community, was a long-time friend and a tough but fair taskmaster... who was about to task him again! And possibly screw up our wedding anniversary trip this weekend. Already postponed twice.

Donovan picked up. Director...

Donovan, we have a situation.

Whats up?

A top government scientist was just grabbed off a Manhattan street.

Where?

A few blocks from you.

Donovan heard the soft drone of an engine and assumed Madigan was flying somewhere to check one of his many intelligence groups: the CIA, NSA, FBI, Homeland Security, and all sixteen US intelligence agencies, or whatever number the congressional idiots decided on this week. Madigan visited the agencies to insist they share information and to kick ass when they didnt.