The Killer Within by Jason Kahn

Damnation Books, LLC.
    P.O. Box 3931
    Santa Rosa, CA 95402-9998
    www.damnationbooks.com
    The Killer Within
    by Jason Kahn
    Digital ISBN: 978-1-61572-003-3
    Cover art by: Julie D’Arcy
    Edited by: Lea Schizas
    Copyright 2009 Jason Kahn
    Printed in the United States of America Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced , scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.
    This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

    The Killer
    Within
    By
    Jason Kahn

    To my wife, Karen, and my friend, Elaine Page 1
    The Killer Within
    Detective Frank Arnold viewed the bloodshed in the sumptuously appointed hotel suite with practiced stoicism. A well dressed Caucasian male lay on the floor, surrounded by three larger Caucasian males in Adidas sweat suits, all dead from multiple gunshot wounds.
    There was also a dead African American female in a Paradise Hotel and Casino uniform with a gun in her hand. It looked like she had gained access to the room, shot the men, then herself.
    Frank knelt down next to the young woman.
    Her name tag said: Tracy Betts, Assistant Manager.
    The crime scene guys were crawling all over the room like busy worker ants, photographing and tagging every blood-covered inch. Frank stood, careful not to disturb anything as a uniformed cop walked over to him, a puzzled look on his face.
    “Detective Arnold? What’re you doing here? I thought the task force guys handled this sort of thing.” Frank scowled. “Somebody called it in, so I came over,” he said. “I still have to do my job, you know.” The officer stuttered an apology. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Seems like another sleeper hit, though.” Frank nodded, it sure did. He was about to ask a question when a voice came from the doorway.
    “Let’s not jump to conclusions, okay, officer?” Two men in expensive-looking suits with wireless earpieces walked in.
    One of them looked at Frank with an amused expression while the other started surveying the scene.
    “You trying to pick up a few crumbs, Frank?” Frank gritted his teeth. “Just responding to a call, Terry, that’s all.”
    Terry smiled. “Well, we’ll take it from here.
    Thanks, Frank.” Terry took the uniformed officer by the arm and walked him a short distance away.
    Frank fumed at the silent dismissal, but he knew if he interfered his lieutenant would rip him a new one.

    Page 2
    Correction, another new one.
    He took the elevator downstairs and stopped at the front desk to ask the hotel manager a few questions.
    The man’s hands were shoved in his pockets; Frank could tell they wouldn’t stop shaking. Then he went outside to find his partner standing by the car, arms folded. Her lips pursed and exasperation clouded her face. “Why do you keep doing this, Frank?” He knew better than to try his “I just answered a call” line on Vera.
    “Just get in, will you?” he muttered.
    “Sure, I’m driving.” Her tone made Frank forget about protesting.
    The car pulled away from the Paradise into the late afternoon Metro City traffic.
    “Is it true who’s up there?” Vera asked.
    “Yeah,” Frank said. “Boris Ilianov, and three of his goons.”
    Vera gave a low whistle.
    “That’s it for the Russians, then,” she said.
    “Yeah, now Hector’s the only game in town.” Hector Avilles was an Ecuadorian crime lord. His gang used to be small time in Metro City, but now they owned the place.
    “Sleeper hit?” Vera asked.
    Sleepers were the assassins used by the Ecuadorians. A chemist in one of Hector’s