Knaleg: A Terraneu Novel (Book 3)

K
n
aleg

 

(A Terraneu Novel, Book
Three)

 

By

 

Stormy McKnight

Copyright and Disclaimer

 

Copyright
pending, Stormy McKnight

 

Cover
Art by Brandi Doane McCann

 

Published by Stormy McKnight

http://www.stormymcknight.com/

 

Knaleg is the third book in the Terraneu series. I would advise that the
books be read in order, to enhance the experience. However, I do try to write
them as stand alone as possible.

Knaleg is a work of fiction and the characters, events and dialogue found
within the story are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as
real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased,
is completely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying,
file sharing, audio recording, email and printing without the permission in
writing from the author
.

Chapter One

 

 

Catherine Chambers stared at the digital tablet on
her bed. She had all of the pertinent information on this case saved in an
encrypted file. She had just gone over the details again, so she would be
prepared for the official “welcome” breakfast tomorrow morning. She was still
shocked at the events that had led up to her checking into the quaint Bed and
Breakfast in the Scottish Highlands. It had all started two days ago.

She had been going through the most boring Intel on a place that quite
frankly she wasn’t even sure she could find on a map, when her supervisor had
walked in. She had given him a polite smile, that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
She had never really liked her boss, he was a first class sexist jerk. She
avoided dealing with him whenever possible. It wasn’t that he couldn’t be a
nice guy when he wanted to be, she just never got to see that side of him. All
of the younger, more attractive field operatives had his attention. A few years
ago, Catherine had passed the age of being eligible for undercover work and was
placed at a desk job.

It wasn’t that she was out of shape. She still did all the drills to keep
her abilities fresh. She worked out and kept as fit as she could. She just
wasn’t young enough to keep up, and in the eyes of her superiors was a
liability in the field. Tell that to James Bond she wanted to yell! No one
would dare tell James he wasn’t fit for field duty!

So for the last three years she had been required to do random
intelligence paperwork. While she still yearned for the freedom of working
undercover, she was told that it was too much of a risk to put her in the
field.

Her boss handed her a USB and told her to open the folder titled
McPherson, then made himself comfortable in one of her chairs. She did as he
asked, it was easy since there was only one folder on the flash drive. When she
looked back at him expectantly, he asked her to read the Word document titled
“Overview”.

She opened the file and went over the details. Somewhere in the Highlands
of Scotland a bunch of women had gone missing. Her first thought was really?
Scotland isn’t exactly terrorist central. How many women could they be talking
about? The answer surprised her, there were around ninety women unaccounted
for. Not figuring in an earlier report of a missing person by the name of Amber
Anderson. She had gone missing in the same area under unknown circumstances a
year earlier.

The ninety had all gone on a “dating” vacation offered by McPherson Match
Making. It seemed like it was a legitimate business. An older Scottish
gentleman had turned his B&B into a dating destination. It was only for
select women who passed their stringent profile requirements. None of that was
so unusual. A lot of dating sites were very specific about traits their members
had to have.

“What made this place investigation worthy?” She had asked.

“One of the missing women’s employer requested a check. Once the local
authorities realized it was more than one woman, with the exact same notice. It
was sent up the line to us. It seems that the only group to have gone to this
“vacation” so far was almost six months ago.” Renee, her boss had briefed her.
“They arrived and by all accounts had a great time, then as far as we can
ascertain, about
ninety
of them sent out notice to their employers that
they had found love in Scotland and were staying. They were giving permission for
their last checks to be donated to charity.” Renee had clicked through the
digital file until he stopped at a certain page, “Here it is. There were
fifteen women that stayed at the B&B run by McPherson that didn’t find
‘love’. They were still very happy with their experience in Scotland, as you
will see on the video. The only problem is that they don’t remember meeting any
of the other ninety women who are missing. Even though by all accounts they
were spotted in the nearby village, and were known to have been vacationing
with them.”

Renee spun his chair around, “Play the video marked interrogation, use
the big screen so I can watch also.”

Catherine did as he asked, as it buffered she put it on large screen view
on the monitor on her wall. When it was ready she hit play.

She recognized the type of interview room. There was a middle aged female
being sworn in, an agent was asking general questions. Are you so and so? Do
you live at so and so address? Did you join a dating site called McPherson
Match Making? Did you travel to the Scottish Highlands on so and so date?

“This is where it gets interesting.” Her supervisor, Renee cut in.

The agent had asked the interviewee, “Do you remember meeting this
woman?” The agent then flipped over a photograph.

“No. I don’t recall ever meeting that person. I had a great time in
Scotland though.”

Renee took control of the playback and froze the image. “Remember that
phrase.” Then he pressed play again. The scene played out with fifteen
different women. All were shown multiple pictures, and all of them responded
the same way. Only one person was different, it was a Michelle Clark.

She answered, “No. I don’t recall meeting that person. I did have a great
time in Scotland, though I lost my favorite coat. I don’t even remember where I
put it. I ended up with a ratty older one.”

At the end of the video Catherine thought about that for a minute. “So
why am I being given this assignment. I am not certified for field work
anymore.” It hurt to say it, but that was the truth.

“You have been re-instated. You are the only operative that fits the
profile. You are in the age range they seem to be selecting, you rate high on
the list of criteria the other women had on their profiles.”

Renee showed her the profile they had created for her on the dating site
using one of her previous aliases. It was all true, so it wouldn’t be hard to
try to cover up a lie if she accidentally said the wrong thing. She was single,
had no family, no pets, and lived for her job, no current boyfriend, was a science
fiction fan, open minded, and people friendly, adventurous and so on.

 
“They sent a welcome packet…you
were picked for their special vacation event. Check in is in two days.” Renee
stated matter of factly.

“So the women missing fit my description. Are we looking at some type of
trafficking? Some rich Arab trying to fill a harem? There is definitely some
kind of mind game going on.” Catherine was memorizing the profile while Renee
talked.

“We aren’t sure what is going on. There is no buzz anywhere about these
women being trafficked, no sign of any kind that might point to where they are.
That is why it is so important for you to make it to this McPherson B&B. We
need to know if we are dealing with a new kind of terrorist threat, maybe a new
prostitution ring. Read the rest of the data, watch the video a few times, and
then get to Scotland.”

Renee advised her there was a portable tablet containing all of the
pertinent information in her packet, along with her re-issued side arm, alias
pass-port, credit cards and support documents. She was going under an old
alias, so the cover was very deep and impossible to break. She was to arrive in
Scotland in two days.

Catherine had landed in Scotland and met Mr. McPherson when he picked her
up in the McPherson Match Making shuttle bus. He seemed to be a very nice
grandfatherly type man. He hadn’t been very chatty with her or the other women
on the shuttle. They had pretty much talked amongst themselves. She quickly
realized that she did fit the profile! These women were interested in the same
shows that she watched, like
Star Trek
,
Big Bank Theory
,
Dr.
Who
.

They all talked about the same experiences with men, how hard it was to
find a good one. What they hoped to find on this Scottish dating vacation.
Someone who liked them for who they were. Catherine had noticed that most of
the women on the shuttle were a bit out of shape, but she had always followed
the motto:
 
“Live and let live.”

Three years at a desk job had taken its toll on her, and she was sure
these women had similar stories. She wasn’t nearly as trim as she had been, but
she wasn’t as far gone off the diet trail as some of her fellow vacationers.
She had to admit that every single woman she had met was exceptionally
friendly. They all had easy laughs, were eager to talk and make friends and
Catherine was secretly hoping this was all a misunderstanding.

Maybe the other women had found love, and were off somewhere with their
dream guys. She knew that it was unlikely. Things like that didn’t happen in
the real world. In reality, this situation was likely to end with the arrest of
Mr. McPherson for trafficking women for the sex trade, or for harvesting their
organs. She knew it was cynical, and she hoped she was wrong.

After getting checked in and settled she headed outside for a breath of
fresh air. Catherine wasn’t paying attention as she hurried around a corner.
She gasped in surprise when it felt like she had run into a brick wall, and
then bounced back a few feet. Strong hands steadied her, and her eyes swung up,
and then up even higher. What she saw had her holding her breath.

“Are you okay?” The male before her was an Adonis walking and breathing.
Catherine wasn’t usually tongue-tied but something about him had her
speechless. He looked her over, his eyes glowing with merriment. “Little
female, did I hurt you when we collided?’

“Uh. No.” Catherine drew in a great breath, and stepped back so she
didn’t have to crane her neck to see his face. “I wasn’t looking where I was
going. I’m sorry to have bumped into you.” She realized with a start what was
holding her captivated. It wasn’t his chiseled good looks, which were on the
pale side for her tastes. It wasn’t his height, because at 5’ 2” everyone was
tall to her. It wasn’t his body, it wasn’t even his smoky voice or silky black
hair. It was his eyes! They were purple! Not the fake contact kind of purple,
but a mixing of light and shadow kind of purple. They were so alive with color
they seemed to be glowing.

“Are you staying here at the main house or do you have a camp site?” His
voice rumbled out.

“I am at the main house.” Catherine stated, “I didn’t know there were
camp sites.”

“There are over a hundred women, and some of them are in the camp sites.
It is not for long, and they seem to be comfortable.”

Catherine remembered why she was here and decided it was time to fact
gather. “I am Katie. It is nice to meet you…” She used “Katie” when undercover
because it so closely resembled her given name, she wouldn’t give herself away
by ignoring the speaker. She held out her hand. The giant of a man was shaking
it absently. “I didn’t catch your name.” She prompted.

“I am Kneus McPherson. It is nice to meet you Katie.”
 
He had an odd accent she couldn’t place.

“You are related to Mr. McPherson?” She would eat her own shirt and pants
for dinner if those two men were related. Her “something is up” alarm was going
off, and whenever it sounded…she listened. She wasn’t sure what, but there were
odd happenings here in Scotland.

“Yes.” Kneus answered. His smile never wavered but his eyes shifted
slightly.

Catherine knew instantly that he was lying, so her alarm was right again.
How much was off with this whole dating vacation thing, she didn’t know. She
was going to find out though. The longer she watched him, the more she saw
behind the façade. His smile was genuine, but pinched with stress. His eyes at
first glowing had lost their merriment, and were shadowed with something she
couldn’t pinpoint…pain, despair?

“I have work to accomplish before the welcome breakfast tomorrow. It was
nice to meet you Katie. We set up the food on the knoll across the way, be sure
to arrive early so you can enjoy it.” He smiled down at her once more, and then
headed off around the building.

Catherine worked her way around the old Victorian and then further
explored the grounds. The camping sites she found were very well maintained,
there wasn’t anything odd about them. She wasn’t able to spot anything
obviously amiss anywhere. So she headed back to the main house, stopping to
chat with some of the women on the way.

“They say it is a second chance in their pamphlet. It is what they cater
to. Middle aged women like us that want adventure, and romance.” One vacationer
was chatting animatedly to her group, “I was ready to pack when I read that on
their site. I don’t have anything holding me back, I would love to have an
adventure! That tall hunky one said they have a special trip planned for
tomorrow! I can’t wait to go!” She laughed heartily, everyone around agreed,
and went on to tell their stories. All of them were the same. Lonely single
women ready for a little excitement in the Scottish Highlands.

Catherine went to her room, thinking about a strategy for getting
information. Mr. McPherson was probably the easiest target. Maybe he would let
something slip, if she could get him alone. Every time she had checked
downstairs he had been busy with something and she couldn’t get him by himself
to question him. For an older man, he sure was spry!

She would ask him for a tour of the grounds tomorrow morning that would
get him alone and hopefully talking. With a plan of action in mind, she had
readied herself for bed. Tomorrow was the welcome breakfast and she needed to
be ready early. With her thoughts running crazy in her head, she slept fitfully
all night.

Catherine woke to a knocking at her door. She mumbled something and
grabbed her robe off the end of her bed. Seeing the time was six o’clock. It
was kind of early but after checking she swung the door open. It was Mr.
McPherson pushing a cart full of fruit juices and breakfast snacks.


Woods ye loch
some ginger ur muffin tae start yer morn?
” Mr. McPherson asked. He
indicated the selection of items on the cart.

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