The Lion's Mouth

by Brian Christopher Shea

  “I’m sure you would, but I’m a friend. Well, I’m Nick’s friend,” the voice said, calmly.

  “I don’t understand,” Declan said, still reeling from the sudden thought of his wife and children’s compromised safety.

  “I helped you before with Khaled, but we never met,” Jay said. “Like I said, I routed my call through your wife’s number. I needed to ensure that you answered. I am truly sorry for giving you a scare.”

  Declan sighed, returning to his steady demeanor and asking, “What’s going on?”

  “I’m worried that Nick’s in real trouble,” Jay said.

  “He is. That’s why we’re heading out his way. He was stabbed last night,” Declan said.

  “I know. We just got off the phone,” Jay said, calmly.

  “Then what do you know that I don’t?” Declan asked, confused.

  “He told me the girls he’s trying to help may have microchips implanted. I have someone already on the way to retrieve one for analysis. That’s bad news. He’s up against some heavy hitters if that’s the case,” Jay said, relaying the information.

  “Shit,” Declan whispered.

  The conversation caught the attention of Izzy who was busy slipping in and out of traffic, never allowing the Camry’s speed to drop below 80 miles per hour. She could have been a race car driver.

  “I’m glad you are heading out there. He’s in over his head,” Jay said, allowing his concern to bleed through.

  “He’s been up against some tough odds before and come through,” Declan said.

  “True,” Jay hesitated before continuing, “That’s not the only thing I’m worried about.”

  “What do you mean?” Declan said, confused again.

  “I know your background. I’m fully aware that you’re capable of keeping a secret, but this goes beyond that. What I’m going to tell you compromises a promise I made to Nick years ago, but I feel that you need to understand some things so you can help him,” Jay said, in a constrained tone.

  “Go on,” Declan said, evenly.

  His past had made him a lockbox of secrets. Details of missions tucked deep in his mind. One of the last men left standing from a unit that never existed. He could handle whatever this man had to say.

  “He asked for my help a few years back. Before the Khaled incident. He was in Texas and working a case not too different from the one he’s on now. It was definitely a lower-tiered organization of child peddlers,” Jay said.

  “Okay,” Declan said, waiting.

  “Nick had worked his ass off linking the members of the organization to the exploited children. He brought charges down on everyone he could loosely affiliate with the trafficking of these kids,” Jay said.

  “Sounds good so far, but I feel that you’re not done,” Declan muttered.

  “Correct. Things fell apart in court. The upper echelon of the organization was able to lawyer their way out free and clear while the low-end members took the fall,” Jay said, laying the groundwork.

  “Sometimes that’s the way things break. You can beat the rap, but you can’t beat the ride,” Declan said, quoting a line he’d used a thousand times over in the past.

  “True, but Nick didn’t see it that way. He couldn’t let it go. And that’s where I came in. He went off the reservation,” Jay said, quietly adding, “And I helped him.”

  “What do you mean? We’re talking about the same Nick? The boy scout and poster child for professionalism?” Declan asked.

  “Using assets at my disposal we tracked the men down. He developed a plan and I assisted in gathering as much intel as possible. You know the game. It was like being overseas again. Schedules, security, location scouting, et cetera,” Jay said, trailing off.

  “And then?” Declan said, anxious.

  “Nick took them out. The three that had avoided prosecution and two members of their security detail.”

  “It sounds like Nick did what most of us would never have the balls to,” Declan said, providing his stamp of approval.

  “That’s true. There is a special place in hell for pedophiles and anyone who sells children into the sex trade. That’s why I was willing to help. But I saw what it did to him. You only knew the man after. I witnessed the transformation,” Jay said.

  “He seems like he dealt with those demons as well as anyone,” Declan countered.

  “I guess, but at the time it ruined him. He lost his wife to it. He became a recluse, burying himself in cases. His father’s death and mother’s dementia turned out to be a blessing in disguise. It pulled him out of his funk,” Jay said, troubled by exposing his friend’s weaknesses.

  “And you’re worried that it’s going to happen again?” Declan asked, understanding the reason for the call.

  “Yes. I’m not sure that if he slips again he’ll recover,” Jay said, concern saturating his words.

  “But you’re still planning on helping him with the microchip?” Declan asked.

  “Yes. I’m hoping you will be able to figure out a solution that doesn’t ruin our friendship,” Jay said, with an uneasy finality.

  “I’ve already planned a solution for the bald asshole that turned Nick into a pincushion.” There was no subtlety to the statement. It was resolute.

  “That’s what I figured since you and your partner are not on the clock,” Jay said, further revealing his ability to gather intel.

  “What you shared stays with me,” Declan said.

  “I appreciate it,” Jay said, acknowledging his trust in Declan’s words.

  “What should I call you?” Declan asked.

  There was no response before the call ended.

  Izzy looked over at Declan as he pocketed the cell phone. Her eyebrows raised and the expression on her face was easily decoded. He could tell that she was waiting expectantly for the details from the last call, only hearing one side of it.

  “We’d better make up some time.” Declan said without looking at Izzy.

  He knew this response would not satisfy her, but it was the best he could offer up.

  They drove on in silence and he pondered the call. Nick wasn’t as squeaky clean as he’d thought.

  Declan took comfort in knowing he wasn’t the only one with secrets.

  Chapter 40

  The Ford moved with the flow of traffic. Cain made sure to stay within a mile or two of the speed limit. He wanted nothing more than to mash the pedal and chip away at the distance between his current location and the Heathen’s. Patience was needed. Getting pulled over could create a series of unwanted events. His GPS rerouted to accommodate for any changes to the red blip’s direction. Cain had made up some distance when the Heathen stopped for half an hour in Texarkana, but he was still over three hours behind. He soothed his anxiety with the Pastor’s words. The sermon stirred him and provided a needed distraction.

  It will call to you in different ways. It will seek to find weakness. The Devil will try to penetrate the chink in your spiritual armor. How do you harden yourself to these attacks? How do you block an invisible blade that seeks to slash at your belief? Acceptance! That is the answer. Acceptance that you are not as strong as you think! Acceptance that you have weakness! Acceptance that you are not worthy! It is in that subjugation that you will find a new strength. You will feel God’s embrace. Lower yourself so that you can be raised up anew!

  Cain rubbed the bandaged wound near his neck. He smiled, embracing the Pastor’s message.

  Her body was sore. The explosive tension she’d applied to keep herself wedged during the car crash left her stiff. The eight hours curled in the rear seat of the bus only added to it. She stretched and rolled her neck in an effort to loosen up. She stared out at the landscape.

  Her heart leaped when she saw the sign welcoming her to Arkansas. Mouse was out of Texas. The thought made her smile. She wasn’t exactly sure what her plan was once she got to Pidgeon, but she’d figure it out. In the hum of the bus’s engine, she allowed herself to daydream about the next chapter in h
er life. Something she hadn’t done in years. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had something to look forward to.

  Chapter 41

  “What?” Nick asked, shocked at the statement.

  “The beacons are everywhere!” Jay exclaimed. Not one to get emotionally invested in the relay of information, he calmed and then continued, “My tech was able to follow the data trail and link to the site where the information from the chip was being sent. Without divulging much about the process, he was able to access the database and view it from the user’s point of view.”

  “I’m totally impressed. So, you can find the girl?” Nick asked, hopefully.

  “That’s what I’m saying. The screen looks like a goddamned Christmas tree. They’ve got these chips in a lot of girls,” Jay said. The reality of his comment was overwhelming.

  “So how do we find her? And we’ve got to figure out what to do with all the others,” Nick said, sounding desperate.

  “I focused my efforts on the girl you’re looking for. I gave the tech the grid coordinates of your apartment. We had the timeline of when she was there, so it was relatively easy once he figured out how to manipulate the system,” Jay said, excited at the prospect.

  “And?”

  “Each chip has its own tag. Your girl’s is MX1249. I’m not sure of its meaning, but I’m guessing that the MX represents Mexico. Maybe they tag their girls by place of origin. I’m not sure and right now that doesn’t really matter.” Jay caught his breath and continued, “My guy created a way for you to track her in real time. I’ve texted you a link.”

  “Fantastic!” Nick said.

  “Not so fast. She’s in Arkansas and moving north.” The implications of this were not good.

  “Arkansas?” Nick thought about the possibilities and didn’t like the prospects. He added, “They must’ve grabbed her while I was stuck in the hospital. I have no idea where they could be headed, but at least we’ve got a better chance now that we can pinpoint her location. I just hope we’re not too late.”

  “I’ll keep you updated on my end,” Jay said, ending the call.

  Jones, Rusty, and Anaya sat in the conference room at APD headquarters and stared at Nick. They only heard half the conversation, but surmising its gist.

  “I’ve got two questions. Was I right about it being a tracking chip? And two, how the hell did’ya get that info so damn quickly?” Jones asked, raising his eyebrows in suspicion at the second inquiry as he slipped into a deep Texas drawl.

  “Yes, you were right about the chip,” Nick said, avoiding the second question altogether.

  “Ideas?” Nick asked the group. His body positioning in the chair favored his injured left side.

  “Maybe State Police could help? Assuming she’s on the highway.” It was Rusty who spoke now.

  “Good point. We’ve got a description of the bald guy’s vehicle. But we’re assuming he has her. And assuming he’s still using the Range Rover,” Jones said.

  “That’s a lot of assumptions, but it’s better than what we had a few minutes ago,” Nick said.

  “At least we know she’s probably alive,” Anaya said, speaking for the first time in a while.

  “How do we know that?” Rusty asked.

  “Because she’s still moving. If not, then I’m guessing they’d have dumped her somewhere,” Nick said, nodding his head as if reassuring himself he was right.

  “Good point. I’m going to get in touch with Arkansas State Police and see if we can get someone to intercept.” Jones stepped up and walked to his desk.

  Nick was silent for a moment and then put his phone to his ear. “Where are you?”

  “Um, we’re still in Tennessee. We lost a little time to some road construction.” Declan said. “Why? What’s up?”

  “How far are you from Memphis?” Nick asked, intently.

  Declan looked at the GPS on Izzy’s phone and said, “Hour and a half, tops. Again, why?”

  “We’ve got a lock on the girl. She’s heading your way,” Nick said, excitement filling his voice.

  “Where are you?” Declan asked.

  “There’s no way we can make up the time. Maybe once she stops moving we might be able to get a flight out, but I have a bad feeling we are operating on borrowed time,” Nick said.

  Nick didn’t need to add any detail to the statement’s meaning. Everyone in the group was well aware of the stakes.

  “All right, we’ve got this,” Declan said, confidently.

  “Sorry to put you in this position. I wish I could do it myself, but…” Nick never finished the sentence.

  “I know.” Declan hated the seriousness of Nick’s tone. Especially in light of recent information. He lightened the tone and added, “It’s time you let the varsity team play.”

  A little chuckle escaped Nick as his friend’s cockiness created some levity. “Okay, just remember who saved your ass last time.”

  “Um, I’m right here,” Izzy said, in the background.

  “I’m going to send you a link. It’ll allow you the ability to track Mouse’s position. I’m also going to send you a photo. It’s a little grainy. It’s from a convenience-store camera, but you should be able to identify her from it,” Nick said, returning the conversation back to the business at hand.

  “Mouse?” Declan asked.

  “Yup. She’s tiny, but don’t let her size fool you. She is as tough as they come,” Nick replied.

  “I like her already,” Izzy said.

  “Be safe. If she’s with the guy from my apartment, then take precautions. He’s dangerous,” Nick said.

  “So am I.”

  Declan let that comment hang in the air for a moment before clicking the end button.

  “State has all the information. They’re going to set some units up on I-40 and look for the Range Rover. They’ll keep me posted,” Jones said, re-entering the room.

  “As soon as she’s safe, we’ll need to figure out how to help the rest of the girls,” Nick said, scanning the room.

  “I agree, but let’s focus on finding Mouse first and go from there,” Jones said.

  “I think you should be resting,” Anaya said, looking at Nick sitting uncomfortably and favoring his injured side.

  “There’s no way I’m going to lie down and take a nap while that asshole is hunting a little girl,” Nick said, intensely.

  “No point in arguing with his stubborn ass. I think I’m the only one left in this state that will work with him. Hell, why d’ya think he has to slum it with us city cops? His Bureau buddies can’t keep up,” Jones said, laughing.

  Nick smiled at the group but couldn’t help feeling the not-so-subtle truth in Jones’s remark.

  Chapter 42

  She moved quickly through the herd of people meandering outside. A few of the passengers lit cigarettes. They stood waiting for their bags to be offloaded from the undercarriage. Her ticket itinerary said this was a transfer to the 1214 bus. She had a little over an hour at the station.

  Mouse went directly to the bathroom. She’d used the privacy of the toilet on the bus but wanted to organize the cash in her backpack, worried that someone might find it odd that a girl of her age would have a wad of money. She slipped a twenty-dollar bill into her pocket and zipped the sack up.

  The station wasn’t very big, and it felt smaller with the crowd. Some were huddled on the floor with their cell phones connected to a wall plug. A man shuffled past her whose smell reminded her of the drunk that had helped her get the ticket. Mouse made for a place serving hot food. There was no name above the enclave, just a sign that read Open 24 Hours. She ordered a burger, hot dog, and French fries. Her stomach rumbled as the scent wafting off the grill entered her nose. The Powerbars and Gatorade had sufficed up to this point, but her body yearned for real food. What better way to embrace America than through their greasy staples.

  Mouse found a small aluminum table by a large fake plant. Using her hand to clear off the crumbs from the last visitor,
she laid out her feast. The only thought in her head was, “Which one should I eat first?” She committed and gripped the burger with two hands, breathing through her nose as she began devouring it like a shark in blood-filled water. She paused only long enough to shovel a few fries into her mouth.

  It had been a long time since Mouse could say she was happy. It was an elusive concept under the circumstances of her life. But right now, right here, in the Greyhound bus station in Memphis, she felt it. Or what she perceived was the closest thing to happiness that she’d experienced since her mother’s death.

  Leaning back, surveying the pile of grease and mustard stained wrappers, she rubbed her belly, contented. Looking at the itinerary, she did the math. Only twenty-two more hours and she would be in Saginaw.

  And then on to Pidgeon. On to her new life.

  Chapter 43

  The group sat watching the blip update position. There seemed to be a lag time, and Nick guessed this was because Jay’s tech support was sending them a hacked signal.

  “This is killing me,” Nick said through gritted teeth.

  “Don’t I know it,” Jones said. “Good thing is we’ve got a lock on her. Only a matter of time now.”

  Nick nodded and slowly stood. The meds from the hospital had run their course, and the dullness of the pain was gone. Sitting unmoving in the chair, it felt like a vice gripped his side. But standing up was like the knife was being plunged back in again.

  “Easy, Nick,” Anaya said, swooping in to assist. “Why don’t we find you someplace more comfortable?”

  “Nah, I need to move around a bit. I’m gonna grab some water,” Nick said. He was hunched and not able to stand erect, so his tall frame seemed stunted.

  “There’s a fresh pot of coffee in the break room. I’m gonna contact dispatch and see where we’re at with the troopers. Looks like we’ve got to reach out to Tennessee now,” Jones said, already moving to the door.