Protector Of Convenience (Rogue Protectors Book 2)

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Protector Of Convenience (Rogue Protectors Book 2) Page 5

by Victoria Paige


  She was hoping Powell’s drone was getting all this even if Garrison’s team already had an idea of what they were up against.

  They arrived at the last room and Mustache Man opened the door and that was when she caught sight of his tattoo, but Ariana’s attention was quickly drawn to the girl in the room sitting on the bed watching TV. It looked like any other young girl’s room complete with frilly bed sheets.

  “Tia Ari,” Leah exclaimed and flew off the bed, but her captor pushed her back and shut the door and locked it from the outside.

  Reeling from what she saw, not able to reconcile Leah’s better-than-expected condition to the bloodied scrap of fabric Connie had shown them, a niggle of doubt took root in her gut. It sprouted like a weed and wrapped around her lungs, squeezing it tight.

  The smirk on Mustache Man fed that doubt, and the cursing over her earpiece escalated her flight response.

  “What the fuck,” Migs muttered. “Did you get that Powell?”

  “Roger that.”

  “Who’s with Miss Roque?”

  Connie. Did she set her up? That wasn’t possible.

  As she walked back with her host to the living room, she glanced at the door.

  “Can you tell me what you need, so we can get this done?” she asked.

  “What’s the matter, somewhere you need to be?” The smirk turned into a malicious leer.

  “Let Leah go. You have me.”

  “Not yet.”

  “You were the ones who broke into my house.”

  The man didn’t admit anything, but Ariana noted two of his men gathering around her.

  She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you were expecting to find.”

  “We don’t know either,” the man answered and then everyone burst out into raucous laughter. Then Mustache Man turned serious and whipped out a knife, holding it up.

  Ariana stepped back, but the other two grabbed her from behind and forced her into a chair.

  She gave a frightened yip but tried not to scream. “Why don’t you just tell me what you want?”

  “Your brother—”

  “He’s dead.”

  The tip of the knife touched her chin, then the cold blade flattened against her cheek. “Your brother Raul had mine killed.”

  “Because of him we lost our other brother,” Ariana said bitterly. The voices in her earpiece had grown eerily silent. Did it fall out? It was a transparent filament that was hard to feel or see.

  “So get in line,” she added bitterly. “I know what my brother was, what he did. So if killing me will give you peace, go ahead.” Her chin inched up even as she gnashed her teeth to prevent them from chattering.

  The glint of the knife caught her eyes as the man sat on the coffee table in front of her, and that was when she noticed a tray of buccal swabs in a test tube. She’d seen those before for DNA test kits, the ones that tested your ancestry and biological predispositions. Beside it was a row of syringes.

  “What’s that?” she whispered.

  The words barely left her mouth when the lights went out, windows exploded, and the door flew inward. There was a loud bang, and the room filled with smoke, and somewhere around the house she heard more crashing sounds, shouting and screaming, rounds of gun shots that went suddenly silent.

  Crying.

  “Leah!”

  Someone grabbed her under the arms and lifted her. She bounced on a hard shoulder and then they were moving. The muffled pops of silenced weapons sounded in her ear. Her eyes watered with the smoke and then suddenly there was fresh air and she inhaled much needed oxygen.

  “I have her,” Migs yelled.

  “Leah is secure,” a man who sounded like Levi said.

  “Migs, put me down!” Ariana managed to sputter despite the jarring ride on his shoulder.

  “Not yet,” he muttered, and she wasn’t sure if he was talking to her. Her head spun as she was set upright and bundled into an SUV. She rubbed her eyes as the driver door opened and Migs got in beside her. A water bottle appeared beneath her nose. “Use this.”

  “EXFIL now, guys,” Powell’s voice came over the wire telling them to get out of there. “The other two groups I’ve been watching have mobilized.”

  “ETA?” Garrison demanded.

  “Three minutes.”

  Migs started the engine and the vehicle slowly started rolling forward.

  “You okay?” he asked, voice rough.

  Ariana finished dousing her eyes and blinked a couple of times, finally able to focus on him. “Yes.”

  “I’ll get you out of here, okay?”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Not sure yet.”

  Migs pulled the vehicle forward from the narrow alleyway between two houses and carefully eased onto the road, presumably not to draw attention.

  Garrison’s voice came over the wire. “Head to Assassin’s Hill.”

  They were on the 101, but they were not clear of the cartel yet. Valley PD had swarmed the house according to Nadia, so whatever evidence had been there was toast. Bristow was hanging two cars behind with Garrison further out.

  “Any sign we’re being followed?” Migs asked.

  “I thought we had a tail earlier, but it took the exit,” Bristow said.

  “Fuck. Should we go to a different safe house?”

  “Dammit. Let’s head to the one in Burbank,” Garrison ordered. “Stay on this secure line.”

  Normally, Migs would be all gung-ho about confrontation, but he had Ariana with him and that made a huge difference. It always had. He didn’t want a single hair on her head harmed. And after the jaw-breaking danger she found herself in tonight, he wanted to take her far, far away from this. Her immediate safety was priority, but he needed a long-term solution to make her off limits to the narcos. Migs was no stranger to cartel brutality, and he still couldn’t wrap his mind around what could have happened if they hadn’t rushed that house when they did. The moment Ariana’s captor pulled out a knife, Garrison called the raid. Forget what other information they could’ve gotten. Migs wasn’t about to stand by and have Ariana lose a finger and John knew that.

  Five minutes into their journey on the freeway, Bristow’s voice crackled on their secure channel.

  “You have a tail. The one that just joined us from the last exit. Follows your lane changes. Explorer.”

  “Dammit,” Migs muttered.

  “I think there’s another one behind me too,” Bristow said. “Confirm, Garrison?”

  “Dark Nissan Sentra?” John asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Have my eyes on it. If you noticed, then it’s possible.”

  “BOLO on relays,” Migs said. “These guys are notorious for it.”

  “Roger that,” both men confirmed.

  He hoped Carillo was treading carefully because Garrison was doing it as well. The agency was known for indirect action, preferring to let the cartels get rid of each other. The last incarnation of the Carillo was squashed four years ago. Benito wasn’t even a prime player then. The CIA and DEA thought they’d gotten rid of every head of the hydra. But as the history of the narcos went, you could never get rid of them completely.

  As long as there was a demand for drugs, there would always be greedy people willing to provide them. There would always be a struggle for power, control of the plazas—turf wars that controlled the drug routes—were never ending. One could say the U.S. was responsible for causing the ongoing bloody cartel war when they pitted one turf against the other and weakened the position of the godfather who united the plazas under one organization. That started the cartel wars, and no one—not the Mexican government nor the United States—knew how to fix the mess.

  Migs eyes narrowed as the vehicle in question sped up.

  “Explorer is pulling up on Ariana’s side,” Bristow said.

  “I see that.” Migs wasn’t going to let that happen. He cut into the right lane, close to the bumper of a Corvette. The Explorer slowed but kept on th
eir ass.

  The driver of the sports car rolled down his window and gave him the middle finger before accelerating but freed enough space for them to maneuver.

  Ariana, who’d been quiet since Bristow told them they had a tail, gave a nervous laugh. “At least he doesn’t seem to be one of them.”

  “Nope.” Migs already clocked the Corvette and driver earlier. He glanced at the rear-view mirror again. “Brace.”

  “What?”

  The word barely left Ariana’s lips when a thump jarred their vehicle.

  “Are they forcing us off the road?”

  “No. They’re just intimidating us.”

  Another thump. This time stronger. Ariana didn’t say another word, but he felt her rigidness beside him, and he imagined she was white knuckling the door handle and the console.

  “Are you guys all right?” Bristow asked.

  “Call this in,” Migs said. “Have highway patrol take care of this fucker.”

  “No,” Garrison countered. “Let it play out. They don’t seem intent on driving you off the road. Benito is probably pissed we fucked up his plans for Ariana.”

  But Migs knew better. If this was a Carillo soldier, they’d be only too eager to prove themselves, and he wasn’t about to serve up Ariana for their egos. “Where’s the other one?”

  “Sentra is tailing Bristow,” Garrison said.

  “The exit to Burbank is coming up. I’m not liking this. Get him off my tail.”

  “Copy that.”

  Bristow pulled up beside the Explorer. The three vehicles were driving in a tight formation and if a patrol saw them now, they would all be flagged.

  “Speed up and cut in front of me,” Bristow said. “I’ll block him.”

  “Copy that.”

  Migs floored the gas and swerved in front of Bristow and continued on. He had to chuckle when his friend thwarted the Explorer from following them.

  “You’ve got another one on you, Bristow” Garrison’s voice came over his phone in a way too calm manner.

  “You sure?” Bristow asked.

  “Not a hundred percent. But must have seen the Explorer blocked and is rolling up to help.”

  “Why are they so persistent?” Ariana whispered.

  “It’s in their nature,” Migs gritted. There was only one way to change the game, and he was willing to accept its consequences.

  “Time to show your cards, Garrison. Get them off my back,” Migs said. “Get the cops on them. I don’t care if you and Bristow get thrown in with them.”

  They’d be freed in no time, but that would give Migs a chance to get Ariana away from this stalemate. An idea that he’d been toying around with finally found clarity. She needed more than a safe house. She needed the protection of the Alcantaras. Four years of skeletons in his past were about to get rattled.

  “Copy that,” Garrison said. “Will see you in Burbank?”

  “Yeah.” No.

  He heard Garrison radio the highway patrol for dangerous activity on the freeway. Migs turned off his phone just as he saw Bristow force the Explorer to the shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” Ariana asked, twisting in her seat to check their tail.

  Migs didn’t say anything.

  “I thought we were going to Burbank.” She twisted again in her seat to look out the window just as they passed their exit.

  “We’re heading to Vegas,” he replied.

  There were things he’d learned working as a CIA operative and one was to have a backup—several actually—for everything. His main vehicle and motorcycle were in Assassin’s Hill, but he had an apartment in Victorville before the 15 to Las Vegas. He took the cover off his Jeep Wrangler. He kept the vehicle here just in case he had to venture into the desert. It wasn’t the most comfortable ride, far from the smooth one offered by Ariana’s Audi, but he couldn’t risk Garrison tracking them down yet. Not until he was done.

  He ignored Ariana’s twenty questions as he transferred whatever was needed to the Jeep. He changed license plates and checked the overall health of the vehicle. It was only when they were back on the 15 and he’d made sure that they weren’t being followed that he spoke.

  “I have a cousin in Vegas,” he said.

  “Why are you breaking away from Garrison now?”

  “He’s not the one who can help us.” The spook had his own agenda, and Migs wasn’t willing to risk Ariana without a safety net.

  “What about Connie and Leah?” she asked.

  “Levi took them to a safe house. They’re fine.”

  “You took my phone and smashed it. You did the same with yours.” She was talking to him as if he’d lost his mind. He probably had. “You don’t want John to find us? Migs, what’s your plan?”

  “You have to trust me.”

  Her laugh was brittle, incredulous. “That’s expecting too much, don’t you think? Especially after how you left me the last time.”

  “It was for your own good. Can you deny that everything I’ve done is to protect you?”

  She faced away from him to look out the window.

  “Can you, Ari?”

  No response.

  “There’s your answer,” he said. “I didn’t want to leave you, but in protecting you and helping in the rogue op to rescue Theo and Emma from your brother, Garrison and I were forced out of LA or we could be charged with treason.”

  Her head whipped around. “You didn’t betray your country. Surely you could have defended yourself.”

  “At that time, someone else was in charge of the agency. I was warned not to contact you in any way. The CIA was still keeping an eye on you and I didn’t want them to pull surveillance in case I defied them.”

  Ariana wasn’t surprised. She always felt she was being watched. “And now?”

  “That person is out. He fucked up by letting Carillo bounce back with a vengeance, but also because after so many months, efforts to find the weaponized Ebola and the virologist had led to dead ends.”

  “The person in charge now … you and Garrison can trust him to have your back?”

  Migs gave a puff of laughter. “He’s a rule breaker just like us. He’ll get it.”

  “I’m not sure I’m very comforted by that thought. I don’t want you in trouble because of me.”

  “It’s my choice. It’s the CIA’s misstep for letting the Carillo bounce back.”

  “Who killed my brother?”

  “The cartel.”

  “Which one?”

  “That’s what Garrison was trying to get Andrade to admit.”

  “Wait. You mean the man who proposed marriage to me is the man who had my brother killed?”

  As much as Migs wanted to throw Andrade under a bus, he couldn’t lie to Ariana. Not about this.

  He checked their rear-view mirror and the open road ahead to give him some time to answer.

  “Migs?”

  “Are you familiar with the Ponce-Neto organization?”

  “I know Antonio does business with them.”

  Migs chuckled darkly. “Is that what he’s calling it nowadays?”

  “He said they have his routes.”

  “Precisely. Your brother was withholding the money for the XZite pills.”

  “How much?”

  “Ten mil.”

  “Ten? Oh my God. But why?”

  “Cash flow issues I believe. It’s nothing compared to the hundreds of millions in revenue they make from moving XZite for Andrade, but you also know narcos don’t forgive those who cheat them.”

  “But why would Raul do that?”

  “He was erratic in the end, wasn’t he?”

  “The PNO killed him?”

  “Ariana, they wanted to kill you too, but Andrade forbade it.” Saying that was like pulling a string of tacks from his throat, but he felt it was the right thing to say.

  “So both cartels are after me,” Ariana whispered.

  “Yup.” And that was just the beginning.

  They’d been on t
he road for approximately four hours when they reached the Strip. It was almost three in the morning and people in flashy clothes were on the streets as if they were just starting their evening.

  Ariana was asleep beside him, her head lolling from one side to another. He cursed the unsteadiness of their ride, but he could trade for a better one today.

  He picked up his burner and swiped a number. It rang seven times before it went to voicemail.

  “Hector. It’s Migs. Call me on this number.” He repeated for good measure. He passed the Mirage and the Cosmopolitan hotel before he arrived at the Michoacán. It was a luxury hotel with a casino for high rollers and was one of the business holdings of the Alcantaras. Before he left Washington state, he made sure his cousin was there just in case he needed another form of backup. He wasn’t expecting to rely on Hector less than twenty-four hours after seeing Ariana.

  The lady in question stirred beside him and made a moaning sound that held a direct line to his dick.

  Down boy.

  He needed to keep his attraction to the gorgeous woman beside him under control. He still needed to debrief her and find out what happened during those few minutes she was inside the house. Her life was at stake and he didn’t have Garrison to back him up. The spook must be cussing him to hell and back right now.

  New phone, no cards. Cash only at the gas station. Migs wasn’t planning on staying off the grid for long, but he needed enough time to execute his plan without interference from John. But it would only work if he could convince Ariana it was the best solution out of the mess she was in.

  “We’re here?” She straightened in her seat.

  “Yes. Are you hungry?”

  She uncapped a bottled water and took a sip. “I could eat.”

  “Good.” Because Migs was starving and he could think better on a full stomach anyway. “They serve a twenty-four-hour breakfast here.”

  “Why here?”

  “Wanted to avoid the more popular places.”

  “But wouldn’t it be harder to find us in a crowded area?”

 

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