by Rachel Renee
The guard goes back to his post, his resigned demeanor slapped back in place. The woman stares up at me, her expression unreadable. One thing is certain, she’s no longer trying to appease me.
I don’t wait long for Mingo, and he’s impatient for me to follow him once he’s arrived. The two of us trudge through the factory floor, dodging heavy machinery and forklifts. Before I know it, I find myself in the exact spot I first discovered the engines.
“We’ve got a comparison of the two. Please inspect quickly. My men already have the specs on the line, ready for production.”
Two engines are hoisted up. By mere glance, it’s hard to tell which is which. I think Mingo can tell I’m impressed with his replication as he points to the one on the right, indicating my design. “Flip them, that is where you will find your updates.”
A man comes from behind a rack, pressing a button on each of the lifts so the engine is turned on its underside. The seam is exactly as I indicated, where it’s supposed to be, but not evident to the unknowing eye. I finagle the heavy piece, pulling it away so the inside is exposed. All the crevices are right where they’re supposed to be, the cover for the product exactly as was designed. “You’ve done it.” I give the men the go-ahead, multiple people appearing from behind us, eager to get this product to its customer.
“Mister Jose will be happy to know you approve. He was here and could not have been happier himself.”
He was just here? Today? Last week? I want to ask but I don’t want to call any more attention to myself. Instead, I ask what I’d been meaning to before the comment. “Who packages the engines before they’re shipped? I’d like to be made aware when they are ready to be released. You know, just to double-check.”
“I’ve never had anyone want to inspect their product the way you have. This is not procedure.”
“This is my design. I’m proud of it and want to ensure Señor Sanchez will get his use out of them.”
“I’ll alert him to your request. He may be in touch with you himself.”
Essentially, I wanted a heads up when the drugs would arrive and didn’t realize Jose would need to know I asked to be told. “Thank you for your time and your fine craftsmanship. I’m sure Mister Jose is equally pleased with what we’ve accomplished.”
“He said as much. Now, I must get my men in position. We’ve got many engines to produce.” Mingo turns on his heels and walks away from me. I guess I’m free to go. Only, I’m here to see the men who will have their hands on the product. Anyone could be a lead to cracking this case.
There are stations along the line, four men, one at each point. I didn’t realize they still ran production in this manner. With advancements, it was assumed most things were created from a piece of machinery but with this particular engine, it seems like some aspects will be added by hand. Each man seems to be working on a different part, welding tools and fire sparking at three of the stations. I take pictures as I walk, including waiting for the men to take a break and remove their helmets so I can get a clear shot of faces.
After I’ve sufficiently documented my visit, it’s time to leave. I don’t expect to see Dom, but I almost run right into him rounding a corner at a quick pace. “Why are you here?” he grumbles.
“Checking out my product.”
“You’re getting a kick out of this, aren’t you? Not just an agent, now you’re excelling at your cover job.”
I raise my shoulders, dropping them back in place. He doesn’t deserve an answer. I like to be good at what I do, whatever it is. Why does he care?
“Jose sees right through you. Just so you know. He knows you’re up to something. Too eager to please.”
I was a little worried that might be the case, but I’m prepared. “It is what it is. I’m here to do a job. Whatever it takes to get it done has always been top priority.”
His anger is still evident. He’s upset he wasn’t invited to come along on the rescue mission or for some other unknown reason I’m not privy to at the moment. I wasn’t expecting him to reach out and grab my shirt. He pulls me closer, obviously trying to intimidate me. I allow it, knowing our training is most likely pretty comparable so he’s ready for the counter move I could make in this position.
He stares at me, practically nose to nose, but he doesn’t say a word. I, also, refrain from speaking. Then, he lets me go, turns, and walks the other way.
“See you later, Dom,” I call out. Whatever his anger toward me, I’ve got to get him back on my side. I didn’t want to make it about him, but seems as if that may be the only way to have him working with me instead of against.
18
AFTER LETTING the fire die down on Dom’s anger, I send him a message, asking him for his help after all. He immediately responds he’ll be back at the apartment before Miguel and I prepare to leave. And, Miguel is still missing and hasn’t responded to my messages. He’s still in the area, not twenty minutes from here when I pulled up his location. His refusal to get back in touch with me gives me doubts, so I’ve begun formulating a new plan that doesn’t include him. I may be letting Dom in on something I shouldn’t be, but the more I think about it, the more I realize I may actually need an extra hand.
It’s possible Miguel was picked up by Thiago, maybe already on his way to Jose Sanchez’s and his phone was left behind. I wouldn’t put it past him to try to ditch me despite his frantic request for my help. I wouldn’t be doing this at the moment if it weren’t for Miguel alerting me to the predicament, but now that I’ve given more thought to how it can enhance my case, I’m determined to make it happen, with or without him. Whatever the situation, I need to be on the road in a couple of hours if I’m genuinely doing this thing tonight.
There’s a small bag packed with the cameras and a few other supplies and it’s stashed in the truck. Who knows what kind of trouble we’ll run into, so I want to be prepared. My guns are tucked into their places on my body, one on the hip, the other to my leg. I’ve got another weapon hidden in the back of my pants, a nice switchblade I found recently I thought could come in handy someday. A knife is not my weapon of choice, but I’ve been known to wield one with skill.
I turn on the computer once more to check the footage from Miguel’s apartment. Nothing was going on earlier when I looked, same for now. It’s quiet, no changes and from the screen, everything seems to be right where it should be. There’s a loud click, but it sounded like it came from behind me so I turn to look at the door, my hand on my hip. It wasn’t my door that made the noise though, it was the one on the screen I’m watching. Thiago storms through it, calling out for Miguel, the noise so loud it’s echoing. I turn down the volume on my laptop to just above a whisper. Thiago has thrown open every door and is now pacing the living room floor, right in front of the camera that was installed. Even with the volume set low, the rumble from his roar can still be heard.
The man throws open the apartment door once more, slamming it after exiting. I close my laptop, jumping up from my chair because the stomping is headed in my direction. The banging is so loud that is nearly knocks the door off its hinges. I open it, knowing exactly who’s on the other side. “Hey, Thiago, what’s up?” I ask after taking a glance at his red face.
“Where’s Miguel?”
“How should I know?”
“He said he was going to be with you.” Thiago pushes past me, shoulder checking my body as he barrels through. “Where’s he hiding?”
“I seriously have no idea. He was supposed to be with me but I haven’t seen him all day.”
Mustache doesn’t believe me as he scours my apartment, room by room. When he finally realizes I’ve told him the truth, he slows his steps and stops short of where I’m standing. “What are you two playing at? I told him Selena was safe, but he’s trying to take matters into his own hands.”
“The only thing I know is he was upset that Selena got involved in something she swore she would stay away from.”
“I cost her the job she came to this count
ry for, I had to help her in some way.” This comes out much quieter than the previous accusations. Sincerity in his words, which seems completely out of character.
The emotion won’t last long though. “I’m not sure getting her involved with the cartel is helping her. You are putting her in danger.”
“You’re only in danger if you mess with the bosses. Otherwise, the cartel is the safest place to be.”
I laugh out loud, without even meaning to. What an absurd statement. I watch as the muscles in Mustache’s jaw clench, the little tails of his facial hair seemingly growing as his face reddens even more than before. “You can’t be serious. There is nothing safe about being involved with the cartel.”
“How would you know?” His teeth are clenched as he utters the words.
“All the horror stories I’ve heard. People’s heads getting chopped off just because they made a little mistake.”
“Big mistakes make the heads roll. Little mistakes, you usually only lose a finger or get the shit knocked out of you so you learn.” He says it like it’s not a big deal, like these things are to be expected punishment. This mentality is gross, but what I’d anticipate from this type of organization. When you ingrain that maiming and killing are okay as long as there seems to be a valid reason, when the acts are committed it’s just another day.
I refuse to argue with the man because I know it’ll get me nowhere. So, we make a subject change instead. “When was the last time you heard from Miguel?”
He takes the bait and switches gears. “A few hours ago. Said he was going to get Selena since I wasn’t planning to bring her back.”
“That’s what he told me too. Asked me to come along for the ride.”
“Then where is he?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. He has ghosted me all day. Not one message has a response.” As if on cue, my personal phone buzzes from the table. Thiago’s eyes flash from me to the device. Both of us simultaneously making a move for it.
Unfortunately, Thiago gets there first. “Who’s Coop?”
My heart drops. First of all, I thought I had deleted all of my contacts from home so that name should not have popped up on the screen. Second, if he’s contacting me, something is most certainly wrong with Eliza. He’s never contacted me otherwise. I want to pretend I don’t know, but that will be unbelievable since the man’s name is plastered on the phone. “An old friend.”
I grab for my phone, but Thiago pulls it behind his back. “What’s the password? I want to read the message.”
“Absolutely not. That’s personal. Nothing to do with you. Give me my phone.” I feel like a child as I reach once more for the device Thiago has in his grasp, holding it out, taunting me.
Instinctively, I put my hand on my gun. Not many things get me riled up, but if this man is keeping me from news on my wife, I may lose my cool and do something I’ll regret later. At the last second, before I out myself, I bend my elbow and connect with the man’s smug face. He stumbles from the shock and I take my chance and grab what is mine.
“What the fuck?” Thiago surprises me again when he doesn’t even attempt to retaliate. His hand is covering the eye I injured with my blow. “I would’ve given it to you.”
“Didn’t seem that way.” The whole thing appeared like a schoolyard skirmish. Including the comment I just made. “I don’t interfere in your private life, and I’d appreciate if you didn’t interfere with mine.”
“Understood. Although, getting involved with the cartel is kind of like interfering with my private life.”
“I’m not involved, other than providing a product and helping a friend. Just so happens we’re dealing with some of the same people. I don’t know anything about your personal life, if you’re dating someone, or hell, if you’re married. That’s the part of life I’m talking about.”
Now that I’ve got the phone in my possession and the situation has calmed, I press in the password and open the message. Eliza is okay, but she could really use you right now. I’m sure it’s not possible, but anyway you could come home?
I quickly type out a response. What’s going on? Is she hurt? Did someone die?
Coop replies immediately. It’s not my place to tell you but she’s being stubborn and at this point refuses to contact you.
I don’t understand what could be going on at home that would keep her from communicating with me. He didn’t answer either of my questions which could mean she is both, hurt, and someone died. Why would she refuse to tell me? That’s the question I now want answered.
I don’t know that I can get home. Can you please convince her to call me back? Even send me a message? I’ll see what I can do on my end, but I’m right in the thick of things at the moment.
Understood, he reacts back.
I delete the conversation, checking that it’s still tapped into the secure server, and then realize the other man in the room is staring intently at me. “What?”
He shrugs. “Waiting for you to finish up. We’ve got something to take care of.”
His eye is swollen and puffy, causing me to grimace as I look his way. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re done. I don’t know where Miguel is, so we’ve got nothing to talk about.”
“What’s your problem with me?”
“I could ask you the same thing. You’ve been a smug asshole from the moment we met.”
“You’re a nosy bastard, that’s the problem I have. Creeping around the office…you looked like you were up to something. You’ve always had a look about you. Plus, you had a wicked bruised face. Looked like you’d been in a fight.”
Ignoring the injury comment, I answer, “I’m always watching, there’s no doubt about that. I’m not a very trusting person, plus, being unfamiliar with my surroundings puts me on high alert at all times.”
Thiago’s shoulders move up and down. “There’s just something about you that throws off red flags. I haven’t been able to put my finger on it, but it’s there.”
“Again. I’ve had those same thoughts about you. There’s no reason why we need to associate with each other. As soon as those engines are manufactured and Señor Sanchez is happy, I will no longer be tied to your organization.” In the capacity you believe I will be.
He responds to my thought, unexpectedly. “You will always be tied to the organization. Once you’re in, death is the only way out.”
So is the cartel way. “You sought me out, not the other way around.”
“You decided to work for our plant, you decided to become part of the cartel.”
I actually didn’t decide to work for the plant. The agency found an opening, and despite my lack of engineering knowledge, plugged me in, filled out all the paperwork, and informed me of my mission. I’m glad to know these men are still unaware of who I’m really working for.
Disregarding his comment, I respond, “I’m not planning to do anything without Miguel so until he shows up, so I’m going to get back to what I was doing before. I’ve got plenty of work to do. Good luck on your search.”
Walking toward the door, indicating his dismissal, brings me face to face with Dom. His hand was up like he was about to knock. His body stiffens at the sight of Thiago. “What’s going on?” he asks.
“Thiago was just leaving. He was looking for Miguel, who isn’t here.”
I watch Dom zero in on Mustache’s protruding bruise around his eye as he saunters past him and to the door. He looks over at me before staring back at Thiago. “What happened to you?”
Thiago shakes his head no, he’s not going to give an answer. Maybe he’s embarrassed or possibly he wants Dom to think much more happened. “Why are you here?”
“Coming to check in on my neighbor. He left work early today.”
“So did you.” Thiago is eyeing the two of us suspiciously, but he continues to walk past Dom, giving his head a tilt as he passes, and leaves my place.
Once he’s to his apartment door, I close my own.
“What was that about?”
>
I tell Dom why our friend visited.
“You do that to his eye?”
I nod. He does the same before getting right down to it. “We’ve got a bigger problem than Thiago. Miguel is off the radar.”
“What do you mean?” I hadn’t realized Dom was tracking him as well. It hasn’t been that long since I checked on him and he’d been at a home not too far out of the city.
“I went to where his phone pinged and the place was ransacked. Someone got to him.”
“How do you know he didn’t do the vandalizing?”
“I found this.” Dom reaches into his pocket, pulling out a cell phone. “It was covered in blood.” He pulls on the phone’s case, revealing some of what was left over. “The whole place was covered in broken glass and blood. Maybe just a scuffle and he’s fine, but don’t think he’d purposely leave his phone behind.”
I don’t think so either. But, why did Dom decide to go and search for him? “Any ideas where we should look? Who he might have been visiting?”
“Think we need to get on the road. If we stick to the original plan, we should find Miguel and Selena.”
He seems confident we will find them both. Did he have anything to do with Miguel disappearing? I should ask, but I know the answer I’ll get. Better to just play along and let him reveal himself.
“Do you think she’s in trouble now too?”
“If they’ve got Miguel”—he pauses to take a breath—“I believe so.”
19
THE DRIVE SEEMS SO MUCH LONGER this time. I’m worried about Miguel, but Selena mostly. She’s an innocent bystander, simply wanting to help out her cousin. And I can’t stop thinking about what could be going on at home. Why is Eliza avoiding me? What could have happened that would make her want to dodge me—bad enough Cooper thinks I should get to Savannah. But, not so severe that I’m commanded there.