The Engineer

by Rachel Renee

  “Last chance,” a new voice comes from below. “Please come down, Liam.” Selena has now entered the picture and she’s also pleading for me to give in. Setup. My only real hope is that Lieutenant and Preston know where I am and send help before it truly is too late.

  My right arm no longer has the strength to grasp the ledge. I’m going to go down, and my only thought now is whether or not I’m going to fall. Using my feet and my left arm, I switch direction. I’ve never previously surrendered, but at the moment, I don’t see any other way out of the predicament. Once I’m securely on the ground, a new plan can be devised. I’ve got weapons strapped on my person. If I can keep at least one of them hidden, I’ll feel better.

  Ten feet from the top, the descent going slowly because of my injury, the rock my left hand was fumbling for gives way, crumbling from the earlier bullet impact. My injured arm instinctively rises, going for anything at all to keep me from plummeting the rest of the way. My fingers aren’t working, though, and the only thing either hand touches is air.

  My eyes look up at the sky, and a few stars come into view. I try to turn my body because I don’t want to land on my back, but the impact comes too quickly. My breath leaves my body spontaneously. Pain fires up my hand, through my shoulder, and spreads over my entire backside. The night seems much darker when the sky comes into view once more, but my eyes shut involuntarily from the pain. The words spoken from the person standing over my head barely register as I’m slipping.

  “Get him to the secure room.”

  20

  “ELIZA.” The name comes out of my mouth before I know what I’m saying. I get the feeling I shouldn’t have said it, but it takes a second to comprehend why. There’s a pain that’s unrecognizable as well as a room I’ve never seen before. My eyes are trying to adjust to the dimness, but I’m struggling. That’s not the only thing causing me strife—I can’t move my upper body either. My hands seem to be strapped and so are my shoulders, practically pinned to the hard surface below me.

  “As soon as they finish stitching you up, we’ll unstrap you.”

  My head swivels around as I try to locate the voice I think I know but can’t fully recall. There’s a figure to my right and my left, both cloaked in the shadows. My mind goes back to the words the man said. They will unstrap me after they stitch me up. If they wanted to kill me, there would be no reason to stitch me up. They also wouldn’t be unstrapping me either.

  “Can someone explain to me what’s going on?” I should be nervous, falling into the cartel pit, so to speak, but there is a weird calm that’s come over me. “Did someone drug me?”

  “We gave you something to keep you comfortable,” the other man speaks.

  A clanging of metal comes from beyond a door. The one man moves from his spot, opening the entrance at the foot of where I’m lying. I try to get a look at him but he’s turned, allowing a man covered in surgeon wear to stroll through the opening which completely blocks out the figure who released the door.

  “He’s awake,” the somewhat familiar voice calls out.

  “Then this will not be a very pleasant experience,” the one who seems like a doctor answers. He looks down at me as he approaches my head. “We do not numb the area. I must sew up the front and backside of your shoulder.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “You are accustomed to pain?”

  “You could say that.” I’m not accustomed to it and I don’t necessarily have a high threshold, but I’ve endured stitches without numbing, and plenty of other things entering and exiting my body that shouldn’t.

  “We will begin then.”

  The man fumbles with a few things on the tray he brought with him before sitting on a swivel chair and rolling it as close as he can to my bed, getting to work. The first couple of passes of the needle cause added discomfort. The pushing and pulling of my skin as the thread goes in and out, the extra tug as he knots the thread after each pass, and the pinch as the metal enters—those are the things I focus on. I try to ignore the fact that one of the man’s arms is resting on my shoulder and every time he moves, it grinds in deeper, which is actually the painful part. I’m sure I have some bruising from my fall, although I can’t feel all the places I’m in pain at this very moment. All of it is centralized in my head and shoulder.

  It’s silent throughout the whole process. Not one sound can be heard from the other men. The doctor’s warm breath breezes over my skin one final time before he rolls away from the table and cleans up.

  “Somewhat painless,” I try to joke. No one thinks it’s funny.

  “Can you let me up now?”

  “Not quite yet.”

  “Can you at least let me in on the plan?”

  “In due time,” the familiar voice answers.

  Turning my head toward the man on the left, the one whose voice I recognize but am struggling to fully grasp, I stare into the void. The figure looks so much like Dom, but the voice isn’t completely matching him.

  “Piecing things together?” he asks, coming a bit closer.

  As his frame comes out of the shadow, I recognize my thoughts were correct. It is Dom. I think.

  “I’m starting to. Too many blanks still need to be filled in to get the full picture.”

  “Who’s Eliza?” he questions.

  “Someone in my personal life.”

  “Your wife?” Dom is standing over me, fully now, blotting out the little bit of light that was shining overhead.

  “Not at liberty to talk about it.”

  “Liam Cauley married to Eliza Sheppard from Savannah, Georgia. She’s the lead homicide detective with their police department. Is that her? You? Or do I have the wrong couple?”

  I could lie and possibly get punished for it. Or could I be honest and continue to be a part of this little charade this man is putting on? He’s obviously been playing his part this entire time, and I can’t begrudge him his near Emmy in the role.

  “You have the correct couple,” I respond. “Why is that important to you?”

  “I wanted to make sure I had the right Liam. It was kind of silly that they used your true first name in this case. Made it real easy to track you down in the system. In case you’re wondering, my real name is Dominico. They pulled the same stunt with me.”

  I lie here and listen since I’ve got no real leverage at the moment. “You may be realizing you’re in this thing much deeper than you anticipated. Unfortunately, you’re also about to be thrust right into prime cartel territory. You’re now ‘officially’ the enemy, but we’re going to use this to our advantage.”

  “Our advantage?” I dare ask.

  “CIA, of course. This is how we’re going to get to Papa Noel.”

  “You mean, you don’t know who the man is? But what about Jose? He’s just as big of a fish as Noel. The way he runs this place.” It all seems so foggy…the words coming from my mouth, the objective itself…

  “I know who Noel is, I simply couldn’t figure out how to get to him. I thought I needed more help from the outside, but I’ve come to realize, the inside is where the action is. That’s where I need you.”

  “You need me?” Wait. Are we a team? Thompson advised me he was my contact—Dom was the guy I was to correspond with here in Mexico for just a short time. I’m attempting to think back on what I know. The fog thickens and my mind struggles to stay focused.

  “If we’re to get our man and stop the cartel from growing, you’re going to have to be on the inside of things. It’s not going to be easy. It’s also not going to be pain-free. I’ve got to convince Jose you were merely worried about your friends. You could be tortured. You’ve got to keep up the guise of the engineer. That’s all. They don’t know about your other affiliation. At the moment, Jose assumes you want a piece of the action. By coming here and meeting him, letting him see the face behind the engine, and entering his place of business, you became a threat. Now, you’re an even bigger one, since you’ve trespassed back onto his p
roperty.”

  “You were in on it. He wouldn’t have even known I was here had you not alerted him to the fact.” I move my head, attempting to shake away the drug-induced stupor I’m falling further into.

  “I need you here. This was the one sure-fire way I saw to make it happen. You played right into the position.”

  I knew it. I’ve seriously fucked up. How am I going to make this right? “Let me loose so we can talk about this man to man.”

  “I took your weapons.”

  “I don’t need them,” I reply. I’m planning to hear him out. See what his proposal entails and then I can formulate my own strategy. Plus, I’m in no position to fight. I’d need an arsenal of weapons to get out of this one.

  Dom bends down, unbuckling the restraints on my wrists before loosening what was keeping my shoulders pinned to the table. Sitting up quickly was a terrible idea, as the combination of the drugs and my injuries causes me to nearly black out. I shake my head again, clearing the fog and fuzzy creatures swimming in and out of view.

  “Don’t be in any hurry,” the man still standing crossed-legged in the corner prods me. “You won’t be going anywhere any time soon.”

  “Who are you?”

  He doesn’t move from his position nor does he answer.

  “We’ll get to that. It’s not important at the moment. He works on our side, though. That’s all you need to hear,” says Dom.

  I feel a little better knowing Dom is still seemingly working for the right side, but the fact he’s willing to sacrifice a teammate is not lost on me. I’ve taken some for the agency before, but never without being involved in the decision. “Why couldn’t you have just informed me of the situation? We could’ve worked together instead of you using me as a pawn.”

  “You would have never agreed to it, this much I know.”

  “I would’ve much rather known what I was getting myself into instead of being thrown into something, that sadly, I sensed was a trap.”

  “You’ve got to trust those instincts.”

  Internally, I scoff at his comment. Outwardly, I fume at his arrogance and my stupidity.

  “Calm down. You know what you’re doing. We’re going to get out of this alive.”

  At this moment, all I can think about is what’s going on with Eliza. Why I let those thoughts break through case work is beyond me. I’ve got to get out of this alive if only to get back to her. To find out what she’s dealing with. Coop said she needed me. I can’t fathom what could be important enough for him to contact me on assignment. Could it be Dom knows who she is…? Is she being threatened?

  “You don’t believe me?” Dom’s words pull me from my despair.

  “Oh, I have no doubt I’m getting out of this alive.”

  “That’s the spirit. Now, are you ready to hear my plan?”

  “If you’re willing to let me make some adjustments to it. I’ve got no problem being a part of the team, in fact, I prefer it. But now that I know I’m your wager, I’m not going to sit back and rest my fate wholly in your hands.”

  A wry smile spreads across Dom’s lips. The man from the shadows finally moves into view and I feel my mouth drop open. How did I not know who was behind that voice? “Thompson. I didn’t think you worked in the field anymore.”

  “Big cases draw me out. This is going to take me into retirement. I can’t risk anyone fucking it up.”

  I understand why the agency works in secrecy the way it does, but when we’re out in the field like this, it would be nice to know you truly had a team of like-minded men behind you. All this ‘don’t trust anyone’ bullshit, and keeping other agents in the dark is getting old.

  “What’s the plan, boss?”

  Thompson looks to Dom, raises a brow, and then faces me. “What Dom has concocted is going to work. We’re all going to have a part, and even though I’m the lead, I’m going to be taking the passenger seat for a while. You and Dom are going to be in the danger zone. I’m just going to make sure we close this cartel down in the end.”

  “Someone please get on with it. Time’s ticking. If we’ve got a plan, let’s get it instituted.” My head is spinning, the pain from my shoulder and head coming to the forefront of this conversation. I’m afraid I might pass out if they don’t get their spiel over with quickly. And I’d miss what role I’m now supposed to step into.

  The two men talk back and forth, filling me in on details I was unaware of, who Thompson is to the cartel and what I’m going to endure before this whole scheme is over. I get up from the table as the men speak.

  “Like it or not, you weren’t going to get into this organization very easily. Being captured was the automatic in for you. You want to end this mission, we need you here. We need you close to the action now.”

  My head bobs up and down as I listen to Dom lay it all out. Breathing too deep causes discomfort in my side emitting around to my back. Each breath catching as I walk, so I’ve slowed. Dom alerted me to the fact I landed on a huge boulder, cracking a couple of ribs, but thankfully not my head. Whatever they gave me to dull the pain before is wearing off. Things are becoming clearer, including the aches.

  “You’ll be able to see what Jose is doing, firsthand. He’ll want to keep you close so he can dispose of you should you or your engines fail. If Jose wants you close, Noel is going to want you closer. That’s what we need you for. I’ve not been able to get near him. Thompson is too high up to be put in the position you’re needed for.”

  The plan is well-thought-out. Dom was right, I would have never agreed to it. Now, it’s only fitting I play the role the two men need me in. Given all the information, it would have come down to this in the end anyway. Although, I would have preferred someone else take the gunshot, the fall, and now the subsequent capture. As long as we’re working as a true team, I shouldn’t lose my head over this. Assuming neither of the others does.

  There’s only one question I have. “Are Miguel and Selena in on this?”

  “Took you long enough,” Dom huffs. “Selena is an agent. This is her first assignment.”

  Makes complete sense now that it’s revealed. She would have wanted those cameras planted, been willing to track Miguel and Thiago, gone into the cartel to get a closer look at her targets. Get closer to me. She has been playing her part too. But why? I’m still uncertain why she’s here.

  “Why is Selena here? Is any part of Selena’s story true? I mean, Miguel was believable as her cousin.”

  “Her whole story is true. Even the nursing bit. That was going to be her cover. She’s knowledgeable of the product, drug interactions, and was easily trained on how it is created. We needed multiple contacts on the inside, keeping tabs on all the players. Thiago was her initial target, and Miguel was the way to him.”

  “You let her be involved with family?”

  “How lucky were we when we found out a new recruit had such an easy in to one of the biggest targets to have gone through the agency in a while.”

  “Toss the brand-new recruit into the cartel. A woman, at that! You know what they do to the women!” I’m not screaming as it’s uncertain who may be listening, but hopefully, I’m getting my emotion across. My head throbs from all the extra blood flowing through.

  “Settle down. I’ve had my eyes on her the whole time.” Thompson reaches his hand out to pat my shoulder, causing me to wince at his touch.

  I rear back without thought, causing even more pain to shoot up my arm and down my spine. I don’t know how he’s been keeping tabs on Selena, but I know it hasn’t been the whole time. The fear I saw in that first night…act or no act, that was real. “I’m appalled at the manner in which this mission is being facilitated. Secrets from my own team, treason from my own leader—what’s next?” I seethe.

  “If you’ve got a better idea as to how we get to the final destination, let’s hear it.” Dom pokes me in the chest.

  I poke him back with my left hand. “I could’ve gotten to the current juncture in a safer manner. Definitely
sans a bullet hole.”

  “We did what we thought was best,” Thompson butts in.

  “You agreed the plan going forward would work,” Dom adds.

  “It will. But…” I want to argue the same point but it’s not worth it. “Listen. I’m willing to let the past stay in the past, for the time being. I want this mission over with. If you can agree to keep me in your confidence for the remainder of it, I can agree to the task you’ve set in motion for me.”

  The other two men glare at each other before Thompson speaks. “You’ve got my word.”

  Dom turns to me and utters the same statement, only he’s cut off. He stares behind me, the door flung open and two men are barreling through. They each flank a side before I can fend them off. “Jose wants to talk to the prisoner. Decide if he’s losing his head or not.”

  The man on my injured side chuckles, pulling me and my new stitches in the direction of the door. Dom and Thompson stand stoic, neither one attempting to aid me. I even think I see a small smile on Dom’s lips as I’m yanked through the opening and into the brightly lit hallway.

  21

  IT’S like any classic film. The bad guys dragging the good guy somewhere, throwing them in a room and telling them to wait here. The room I’m thrust into is mostly empty, a wooden chair the only thing accompanying me. The door was locked, too, just for good measure. I’m not going to try to escape at the moment, as I’m interested in seeing what Jose has in store for me—If he wants to chop off my head or not. Actually, I’m not ready to give up on something I’ve invested so much in. A task that is keeping me away from my wife and whatever she’s struggling with at home. I can still complete this mission, so I’m going to stick around and work toward the finale.

  As the room is only about as big as a closet, there’s not much space for pacing, so I decide to sit. Being exhausted and in pain does not bode well for what may be upcoming for me tonight. Or is it early in the morning? Either way, I’m not as prepared as I could be in this scenario. As long as I can keep my mind sharp, hopefully, that’s all I’ll need. And once the drugs wear off, I may be in pain, but at any rate, I can think my way through.