Operation: Midnight Guardian

Operation: Midnight Guardian

 

Linda Castillo

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

The prison van swayed rhythmically as it barreled into the night, but Mattie Logan didn’t sleep. The judge’s final word rang like a death knell in her ears.

 

Guilty.

 

The verdict had been handed down eight hours earlier in the federal courthouse in Billings, Montana. She couldn’t believe she would be spending the rest of her life in prison. How in the name of God had this happened?

 

She’d asked herself that question a thousand times in the past four months. Four agonizing months spent in a prison cell the size of a bathroom. A cell where she’d come very close to losing her mind. The only thing that had kept her going was the promise of justice. The hope that truth would prevail. Eight hours ago that hope had been ripped from her desperate grasp, and she was left with nothing but a keen sense of impending doom.

 

Mattie Logan, you are hereby sentenced to life in prison.

 

When she shifted on the bench seat, the shackles on her ankles and wrists rattled. The U.S. Marshal sitting across from her glanced at her over the top of his magazine but didn’t offer to loosen the cuffs. Because of the nature of her alleged crime, she’d been deemed a high security risk. The term was laughable—or terrifying, depending on your point of view. Nonetheless, three U.S. Marshals had been assigned to transport her from Billings to a federal prison facility at an undisclosed location in Washington State.

 

Mattie gazed out the small window at the stark winter-dead trees silhouetted against a jagged horizon. They were traveling on a desolate stretch of highway somewhere in the mountains and heading west. The bleak scene reminded her of her life—cold and desolate—and at that moment she’d never felt more alone.

 

She leaned against the seat back and tried not to think. But her scientist’s mind was always at work. It was one of the reasons she’d been hired to work on the top-secret EDNA project at the Department of Defense.

 

If only she’d known….

 

A loud bang disrupted the silence. The van swerved violently, tossing her against the wall. Mattie looked over to see the young marshal rise, his expression alarmed, his hand going to his sidearm. Had a tire blown?

 

Then a second bang sounded. The van veered left, the force throwing Mattie to the floor. A few feet away the young marshal clutched the balance bar as he stumbled toward the cab, his eyes trained on the driver.

 

“Sam, what happened?” he shouted. “Sam!”

 

The driver didn’t answer. Through the windshield Mattie saw the headlights play wildly over brush and sapling trees. Fear cut through her when she realized the van was careening into a ravine.

 

A violent bump sent her two feet into the air. The marshal stumbled and fell but didn’t drop his radio. “Bravo Victor Two Niner. We got a code—”

 

His voice was cut off as the van pitched. Mattie caught a glimpse of the driver slumped over the wheel. Out the window, she saw sparks and debris spew high into the air. Another lurch tossed her to the opposite side of the van and sent the marshal sliding across the floor. The female marshal was shouting as she grappled for her radio.

 

The lights blinked out, plunging them into darkness. The floor tilted, and Mattie began to tumble. She tried to raise her arms to protect herself, but the cuffs and shackles hindered her. A sound that was part scream, part moan tore from her throat when her head snapped back, shattering glass.

 

Then suddenly the van was still. In total darkness Mattie lay on her back. Somewhere nearby steam hissed. The side door was now above her and stood open. Cold air poured in, embracing her with icy fingers. Beyond, a sliver of moon illuminated fast-moving storm clouds.

 

The female marshal called out. “Is everyone all right?”

 

“I think my leg’s broke,” came a weak voice.

 

“What the hell happened?” came a third.

 

“Logan? You okay?”

 

Mattie did a quick physical inventory. Her head hurt. Raising her hand, she touched her temple, felt the wetness of blood. “I’m cut.”

 

“Stay put.” One male marshal groaned as he rose.

 

“What about Sam?” the female marshal asked, referring to the driver.

 

Mattie looked toward the cab. By the light of the moon she could see that the driver was slumped across the seat at an odd angle.

 

“I’ll check.” One of the male marshals went to the driver.

 

“We’ve got an engine fire,” came another voice.

 

“Let’s get everyone out of the van.”

 

Mattie shoved herself to a sitting position and looked around. Through the cab window she saw the yellow flicker of flames coming from the engine. Somewhere in the van, the injured marshal groaned in pain.

 

The other male marshal came up beside her and squatted. “I’m going to take the shackles off your ankles so you can climb out.”