The Engineer

by Rachel Renee

  The bang at the door causes me to drop the device from my hands, startling me from my thoughts. Since I’m not sure who’s on the other side, I stop by the laptop first, closing the lid so no one sees what I’m working on. The banging continues as I make my way to the door. “Quien esta ahi?” I call out instead of looking into the peephole.

  Miguel answers from the other side. Whipping the door open, I can tell right away how he’s feeling. His face is pale, the usual soft brown looking a little green, his eyes are red and puffy. “What’s going on?” I dare ask.

  “Selena’s caught up with the cartel. I didn’t want it to happen, but I was out and Thiago got his claws dug in. I knew he was waiting for the right time to strike.” The man comes in, kicking the door shut behind him before pacing the floor as I had been. He curses in Spanish, words I know, some I can’t understand, and others I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t even repeat.

  “Calm down. What do we need to do?” I stand in front of Miguel, looking him in the eyes, halting his progression.

  “We need to go get her. She’s at Jose Sanchez’s estate. Do you know where that is?”

  “Why would I know where it is?” I can’t believe he doesn’t know where Jose lives.

  He shrugs. “With your task and all—I was hoping.”

  I don’t give him the answer to the question he asked. “We’ll figure it out,” is the answer I decide to give. “Can we go and knock on the door? Is she in trouble?”

  “I doubt it’ll be as easy as that. I don’t think she’s in trouble, at least not yet. Thiago took her to Jose and apparently, Jose told him to leave her. He knew I’d be upset so he hasn’t come back either.”

  During the conversation he had with the person I’m assuming was Thiago, the word tomorrow was dropped. I’d supposed it meant he’d see Selena tomorrow, but now I’m not certain. “Did Thiago give any indication of when Selena would be back?”

  “No. He told me he’d see me tomorrow. We’d discuss it more then. I don’t trust him. He knew my feelings on the subject and he waited until I left before he made his move on my cousin.”

  “Do you know for sure she went willingly?”

  A startled look comes over his face. “I hadn’t thought of that. What if he took her, didn’t give her a choice?” He inhales deeply, holding the breath in place.

  “How did you know he was with her in the first place?”

  “She left me a note.” Miguel reaches into his tattered jeans’ pocket, pulling out an even more ragged piece of yellow paper.

  After he hands it to me, I grasp it, opening the folds, and begin reading. Thiago and Señor Sanchez have a job for me. Will be back soon. S

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s all I got. All I know.”

  The two of us stare, contemplating. We could drive to Texas and rescue Selena, we could wait and see what Thiago says tomorrow, or the thought of leaving her for the time being, seeing what she can learn from the Sanchez house, is also a possibility. “If you don’t think she’s in danger, maybe we should wait until you see Thiago tomorrow. Find out what is truly going on.”

  “I don’t think he’s going to come back until he has Selena.”

  Thiago has never shown any indication he would back down from anyone. The fact he hasn’t shown his face in front of Miguel since he took Selena paints a different scenario between the two men. Thiago acted like the one in the lead between them but he seems to be exhibiting some fear in this situation.

  “We’ve got to think this through. We can’t go knocking, and barging into the Sanchez property is not going to be easy. My thought is we wait until tomorrow and see what you hear from Thiago. If the danger is not immediate, we should postpone until a fail-safe plan can be formed.”

  Miguel glowers at me, his jaw tight, his small frame confident. “Tomorrow. If Thiago doesn’t show up. Or even if he does, I’m going to get Selena, with or without you.” Those last words come out in a growl.

  “I’ll go with you. I’m not sure what you’d be getting yourself into but you shouldn’t go alone.”

  Miguel’s face softens. The harshness that was there moments ago gives way to a bit of relief. “I appreciate your help. You’ve been a good friend to Selena and me. I didn’t know where else to turn. If anything were to happen to her, my family would disown me.”

  “What do you think they have her doing? What kind of job would they give a young woman in the cartel?” I have some suspicions, but I’m seeking more knowledge from the guy who’s been involved longer.

  “Thiago said nothing yet. They need her to make a few deliveries. Something about needing a woman’s touch.”

  “Why her? How’d they even know she’d be willing?”

  “I can only guess Thiago had something to do with it. I told her to stay far away from it all. She said she planned on it. That’s why I freaked when she disappeared a few days ago. I didn’t believe she’d ever get involved. She wants me out, why would she get in?” Realization dawns in his eyes. “She better not be doing this for me. She’s crazy.”

  My sentiments exactly. I don’t tell Miguel that, though. “I’m not sure what she was thinking. Maybe since her opportunity at the hospital was squandered she needed a way to make some money?” Just throwing something out there. I mean, it seems plausible enough.

  He shrugs and begins pacing again. “Why did I let this happen? I should have kicked Thiago out months ago. I wouldn’t be in as deep as I am and Selena definitely would not be involved. She’d be working at the hospital like she was supposed to.”

  “No sense living with regrets. You can try to set things right, but what’s done is done.”

  “You have no idea what I’m dealing with. The cartel is no joke. Papa Noel doesn’t mess around. You think Sanchez is bad, you’ve not seen anything yet.”

  “Papa Noel?”

  Miguel grimaces, realizing his mistake.

  Now we’re getting somewhere.

  17

  MIGUEL WAS reluctant to share what he knew about Papa Noel, the gift giver. I can be pretty persuasive, though.

  “Jose Sanchez is running a side business for Noel. The supply couldn’t keep up with the demand, so he needed another outlet to get the product developed.”

  I’m also wondering if it’s a side business turned into a branching-off by Sanchez.

  “Jose has his own men, but in theory, Noel has to give the go-ahead on everything.”

  But Jose seemed to be the one to make the final decision concerning the engines.

  “Jose started working on a new pill before Noel knew it was possible.” Miguel reveals little bits and pieces like that and they are starting to fit together. He doesn’t realize how good I am at puzzles and he carries on for well over an hour, filling in more items that had been unclear.

  By the time he left, I had him convinced Jose would do everything in his power to keep Selena for his work now that he had her in his grasp. When I asked him what this Papa Noel would do when he found out about Selena, Miguel grew silent. He seemed even more frantic at that point, which had me a little confused after everything he’d revealed on Sanchez. Following his leave from the apartment, with a clear plan on contacting Thiago and getting Selena back, I started to work on how we could accomplish the task.

  While Miguel was in the bathroom at one point this evening, I allowed the agency device access to his phone and now it will be easy to track his whereabouts at all times. He’s still in his apartment, at the moment, and I’ve got a couple more hours to get the real scheme in place. I want to help rescue Selena, but now I’ve got another name, the one of the man supposedly in charge of the whole thing, and I need to know more. Not only would I be helping Selena, but I could make some huge advancements in my mission while in the compound.

  With the name, the database is somewhat useful. Papa Noel has been known to the CIA for over ten years, but they’ve never seen him as a big enough threat to go after him. The fact the agency hasn’t pinned this mission on h
im doesn’t bode well for what I might find in the records. There’s no evidence as to where Papa Noel lives currently. He has many last known addresses but nothing at the moment. Miguel made it sound as though he might be somewhere close to Jose Sanchez. He, however, would not expand on that and it would look super suspicious if I did too much digging on the subject. Selena was the focus and we had to keep it at that for the time being.

  I’ve got a few more small cameras being delivered by courier for use at Jose’s place. They are supposed to be uncomplicated to install and even easier to get instant access to. It won’t be stress-free to hide them inconspicuously, so straightforward is exactly what I need.

  My eyes are heavy and I know I need some sleep. I turn off my computer, leaving everything else as is and settle into the couch. It’s not as comfortable as the bed, but the cool leather feels nice against my warm, sticky skin. It doesn’t matter that I’ve lived in the south, in the hot, humid air of Georgia or that I spent some time in other deserts wearing full military gear in the middle of the day with the sun soaring high in the cloudless sky, I’ll never get used to the high humidity that sometimes makes it hard to breathe.

  I’ve yet to hear back from my wife and at this point, I’m chalking it up to something more important than me has her occupied. I try not to let it hurt my feelings as I’m drifting off to sleep, but I’m not going to lie, my heart aches just a little thinking about it, her.

  The alarm on my phone is sounding off, alerting me to my wake-up call. Three hours’ sleep is not much, but it’s better than nothing. I shower quickly, throwing on khaki pants and a t-shirt until I know exactly what my day is going to entail. The coffee pot is filled by the time I get in the kitchen, the warm aroma of the beans hitting my senses upon approach. The blue mug is sitting on the countertop and I fill it with the liquid before making myself a bowl of cereal and taking both to the table where my computer awaits me.

  An email just arrived, stating my engine is ready for inspection, and it needs to be done promptly because the client anticipating their product needs a very large order filled by the end of next week. The client being the cartel. It took them what seemed like ages to finally create the engine, and now it’s going to be a rushed process. If it needs to be filled in a little over a week, it doesn’t give the company much time so they’ve indicated in their message they plan to begin filling the order this weekend, whether I’ve confirmed the product or not.

  It took nearly a month to assemble the first engine. A little over a week to create two truckloads appears impossible. Seems they are more concerned with meeting a deadline than making sure the customer is fully satisfied with the product. I laugh at my attention to detail, the setup it took to perfect the engine. Why did I even care so much?

  It was my way to meet the cartel leader.

  The engine meant nothing to me, yet I spent days and hours scouring the blueprints and creating a product that was supremely better than what had been used in the past. An engine that is going to carry drugs across country and state lines, not be installed in a new car.

  A quick email is sent back, confirming I’ll be by to check it out first thing this morning. I hadn’t planned to go into the office, but this gives me a reason to walk the factory, see the men who are working on the specialized engine that was ordered. If Miguel and I are going to the Sanchez compound, it won’t be until this afternoon. Or if I can stall, days from now. If I can’t bypass his plans, we won’t do anything until it’s dark anyway. Easier to hide in shadows, if need be.

  There’s a knock on the door, one loud boom followed by three short taps. The courier has arrived with my package. I look out the peephole to confirm it isn’t someone else and once I observe the small package the person is holding up for me to see, I open the door. The squat man, with a balding hairline, shoves the small package with Amazon imprinted on it into my hands.

  “Thank you.”

  The man’s head tilts back but he doesn’t say a word before turning and walking back to the stairwell.

  The door is barely shut before its sudden re-opening knocks me off balance. The small box falls to the ground with a clanging noise but I right myself, standing, ready to attack.

  “Who was that?” Dom appears in front of me, a huge grin spread across his face. The two of us haven’t spent much time together recently. He disappears for days then works in the factory for a couple more before vanishing again.

  “Amazon.” I scowl at him and his intrusion. I bend down and pick up the box, hoping the cameras are not damaged. It didn’t sound like they were securely wrapped inside the package.

  “What did you order?”

  “Some replacement parts for the vacuum cleaner.” I’m not telling him what I’m up to. He hasn’t informed me of his recent endeavors so I feel no need to update him with my own.

  “I thought maybe they were cameras to set up at Jose’s place tonight.”

  “What do you mean?” How does he know what Miguel and I are up to?

  “Ran into Miguel on his way out of the apartment about thirty minutes ago. Said he had some errands to run before the two of you headed out of town to Jose’s. What are you up to?”

  “He wants to go get Selena. Apparently, she’s staying at the compound.” Seems he knows anyway, so we can have this conversation after all.

  “How’d you get the invite?”

  “He showed up here last night. Said he needed my help.”

  “I wasn’t aware the two of you were close friends.”

  “We’re not.” Lie.

  “You got a thing with Selena?”

  I’m not certain where this line of questioning is coming from. “No. We’re just friends. Hung out a few times.” A week.

  “I’ve known Miguel longer. I don’t know why he chose you over me.”

  I can’t believe he doesn’t know about how often the three of us have spent time together. Plus, is this jealousy? “Don’t know. Maybe proximity? Who’s to say he didn’t try you first?”

  “He didn’t. No one came to my apartment last night, or called.”

  “He came when you were out?” I question.

  “Let’s just say there was no indication of a visitor.” Dom must have his door monitored, otherwise, he wouldn’t be so certain.

  This conversation goes on like this for a couple more beats before he ups the ante. “I’m coming with you.”

  “No, you’re not. Miguel and I have this covered.”

  “You’ll need backup.”

  We may but I’m not sure I want Dom to be it, at the moment.

  We argue back and forth about why that’s not going to happen. The conversation ends when Dom marches out of the apartment, slamming the door like a child in his wake. That man’s mood swings bother me. He knows why less is more when it comes to this type of plan. He states he will be lookout, but in this case, I feel like the least amount of bodies I have to worry about, the less stress I’ll have. He’d be one more person to have to make sure was in position, wasn’t in the line of fire, or possibly even another obstacle keeping me from what I’m after.

  Dom’s been the absentee agent since our return from Jose’s. He’s sent me messages infrequently, but we’ve rarely had social interactions. Now, he wants in on what I’m doing? I want to know where his allegiance lies, but he’s not my number one priority at the moment. Although, maybe he should be. He always seems to be one step ahead of me.

  I’ve never received what I asked for from Thompson concerning Dominico Sanchez. This makes me even more leery of the man. The reasoning why I wouldn’t be privy to any of his information escapes me. The CIA is a private company but if there’s something that could be pertinent to a mission, they will usually share the information. Lieu hasn’t gotten back to me either. I’ve been going at it alone. Since it had been quiet, I wasn’t worried, but now that I’m contemplating my more recent communications, I’ve got to question my position. Who do I need to contact to get what I need since the ones I’m supposed to
be able to count on aren’t providing me with this one specific communication or any feedback, for that matter?

  Throwing on a button-up shirt, I decide now would be a good time to run to the office. I try to call Miguel since he’s out of his apartment. It rings multiple times but he never answers. There’s no reason to leave a message. Dom said he told him what we were planning to do so I don’t believe he’s on his way out of the country quite yet. In fact, he seems close by when I check his location on the map.

  Instead of going into the office entrance, I bypass the parking lot and head toward the factory. I’ve no intention of going anywhere other than the line where my engine is in development. The men said they’d meet me there. The lot is full and I have to park toward the back, one of the only spots left. Even with my long stride, it takes me a couple of minutes to reach the entrance.

  There’s a guard standing right inside the door, his stoic face unmoving when I walk past. I stroll to the young woman sitting behind the desk to my right. “Señor Mingo.”

  “I’ll alert him to a visitor. May I say who is here?”

  “Señor Sanchez. I’m here to see the engine.”

  The smile she pastes on is fake, but she makes the phone call promptly. She tells me he will be up to get me as soon as he can and I should wait here until he arrives.

  “I can show myself through the factory. I believe I know where his office resides.”

  “He made it clear you should wait for him here. It won’t be long.” She bats her eyelashes at me like it will make a difference in my decision.

  “I’m in a hurry. It’s fine.”

  I take one step toward the double doors leading to the factory when the passive guard walks directly in my path. “I believe you were told to wait here.”

  “I work here. I have every right to enter these factory doors as any other person who holds a badge.”

  “Obviously not. Otherwise, Señor Mingo would have told you to come on back.”

  I realize my mistake. I shouldn’t have stopped to see the receptionist. Putting my hands up in resignation, I step back in the direction of the woman behind the desk. “I don’t want any trouble. I’ll wait a little bit longer.”