by Raven Scott
It was Sunday night, and he was in his hotel talking to his girlfriend, Nia, through a video chat application. Nia smiled seductively. He could see that she was lying back in their bed, with a couple of down pillows behind her head.
“Right now? Let me see.” She kept the camera on her copper-brown face but was looking down at her body. “I’m wearing those pink panties you really like. The see-through ones, and . . .”
“And?” he prompted, loving how much she teased him.
“And nothing else.” Evan groaned. “Would you like to see what I mean?”
“I think I would,” he replied with an appreciative smile.
“Okay, but under one condition.”
“And what’s that?”
“You tell me what’s going on with you.”
“What?” he asked, confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do, Evan. You’ve been acting weird ever since you got to New York. So tell me what’s going on, and maybe I’ll reward you.”
Evan sighed. Nia James was very sharp and she knew him very well.
“Maybe?”
“It depends on how long it takes for you to stop pretending it’s nothing,” she explained with absolutely no remorse. “Is it Mikayla?”
“Yeah. No. I don’t know,” he replied, obviously conflicted.
It had been three days since he had learned about Sam and Mikayla, and Evan was still struggling with the knowledge. While his blinding anger had faded somewhat, the idea of his friend sleeping with his fiancée remained an uncomfortable fact. It was also aggravating trying to figure out why it mattered at all four years later.
“What does that mean?” Nia asked when he didn’t explain his convoluted answer.
“Yes, it has to do with Mikayla, but not just her,” he said, certain it wouldn’t satisfy her.
“Are things okay there on the assignment? I thought you said she was safe now.”
“She is. There’s no immediate danger. Most of our leads have hit a dead end, but we’re focusing on detailed surveillance now,” Evan told her. “In fact, I’ve just spent another fifteen hours in a car or hiding behind dusty equipment. For the second day in a row.”
“Poor sweetheart, I’m sure you could use a little help relaxing,” Nia suggested.
“I’m pretty tense.”
“Well, I’m happy to help. Once you tell me what’s bothering you,” she persisted. “Is it about Mikayla or not?”
Evan sighed, wishing she were more easily distracted.
“Yes, but not the mission.”
“Baby, you’re starting to lose credits here. In fact, I’m starting to feel a little sleepy.”
“Okay, okay,” Evan conceded, amused despite his internal turmoil. Then he told her a very simplified version of the facts.
“Wow, I did not see that one coming,” she said afterward. “Though it does explain a few things.”
“Really? Like what?” he asked, wondering how anything about it could provide clarity.
“Sam,” Nia said, as though there were something obvious Evan should know. “He’s always seemed a little . . . lonely to me.”
“What?” Evan demanded with a loud snort. “Lonely how? He’s not exactly a choirboy, Nia. The man gets plenty of action, trust me. Not as much as Lucas, of course. That is, before Lucas met Alex in the spring and lost his mind. But you get my point.”
“I’m not talking about how many women he dates, Evan. I’ve met a few of them, remember? I’m just saying that Sam always seemed distant or distracted even while out with some very beautiful women. Like there was a part of him that was unreachable.”
“I think you’re reading too much into it, Nia. Sam’s not exactly the life of the party. He’s a sarcastic smart-ass on a good day.”
“Well, the more I think about it, the more it makes sense.”
“Nothing about this makes sense, Nia.”
There was silence, and Evan watched her full lips turn into a frown.
“Are you jealous? Is that what’s going on?”
“Jesus, Nia. You know how I feel about Mikayla. And about you. I’m not jealous,” he said with frustration. “But I think I have a right to be pissed off.”
“Maybe, four years ago. Or if you were still in love with her and hadn’t moved on with your life a long time ago,” Nia said with some reproach. “But you don’t and you have, right? So what exactly is so upsetting about your ex-fiancée and one of your best friends being together?”
He sighed with frustration. “It’s the fact that they both kept a pretty big secret from me.”
“Or is it some stupid guy thing that I don’t understand? Like, any woman you’ve been with belongs to you even if you don’t want her anymore?”
“Okay, now you’re just being ridiculous,” he snapped.
“You’re right. It is ridiculous.”
They were both silent and annoyed with each other.
“Did you tell Mikayla why you wanted to marry her?”
“Christ, woman, what are you going on about now?”
“Don’t patronize me, Evan,” she scolded softly, and he knew he had crossed a line. “You’ve told me on more than one occasion that you were with Mikayla because the relationship didn’t interrupt your work, that it would have been a comfortable marriage but without any passion.”
“Those weren’t my exact words,” he mumbled, still embarrassed about his juvenile thinking not that long ago.
“Whatever. Did you tell her that?”
He was silent. Of course he hadn’t. And he was starting to see Nia’s point, unfortunately.
“No, of course you didn’t. You let her and Sam admit their mistakes and regrets, and you stood there like a victim, inexcusably wronged by his close friends, and completely innocent of all wrongdoing,” she said with brutal honesty. “When, really, Mikayla just saw the truth before you did, and she had the balls to call you on it. You should be thanking her for it, not brooding about your bruised ego. So who’s been keeping secrets?”
“Okay, I think you’re being a little harsh.”
Nia rolled her eyes through the video app.
“Maybe, but you’re really stubborn. And what is wrong with Sam and Mikayla finding happiness together?” she asked, in a softer tone. “Why shouldn’t they have what we have?”
He looked away, easily remembering the many veiled and guarded looks Sam would give Mikayla when he thought no one would notice. And she wasn’t much better. Shit. Evan hated it when Nia made perfect sense.
“I’ll answer you after I get a peek of those pink panties,” he teased, feeling measurably better.
“Mmmm. You’ve changed the subject. Which means you know I’m right,” Nia noted with a cheeky grin. “I know how difficult that is for you, so maybe you’ve earned a reward.”
“How big is the reward?”
“How much time do you have?”
* * *
As Evan had told Nia, the leads that Fortis was pursuing for the New York mission had dried up pretty quickly. Raymond could not find any relevant information connecting George Clement and Jason Holt from four years ago. Renee was unable to identify the person, or persons, who had planted the explosive device and detonated it on Wednesday evening. Kaylee was still waiting for a reply from Mark McMann to set up a meeting. By Saturday morning, Sam determined that they should focus their effort on local surveillance of Ross operations, in hopes of identifying someone with information connecting Ross and Groveland.
Evan’s plan had him, Sam, and Renee positioned at each of the three Ross construction sites from six o’clock in the morning until eleven o’clock at night. They rented three nondescript vehicles and loaded them up with digital cameras, binoculars, a small cache of concealable weapons, and enough water and quick meals to keep them fueled. For hours, they noted the operations and movement of people and equipment, and took digital pictures of anyone who looked to be in a leadership role. Raymond remained at the apartment with
Kaylee, and provided central communication and support through connected earpieces. They also hired David Ferguson to stay with Kaylee as backup.
On Monday, they were on their third day of stakeouts.
“Boys, I think we have something,” Raymond announced.
“What is it?” Sam asked. He was in Clifton, about twenty miles to the northwest.
“I’ve been tracking Fleming, Battleford, and some of the other managers at Groveland, just in case one of them oversees the Ross projects,” Raymond explained with excitement. “According to credit card records, Nate Battleford has just bought water and mints at the Newark airport.”
“Shit,” Evan swore. “He’s headed to one of the Ross build sites.”
“Yup, it would seem so,” Raymond confirmed. “I’m searching through the security footage to get eyes on him, maybe track wherever he’s headed.”
“I think we have to assume it’s either the Newark or Jersey City build,” Sam suggested as he put away his digital camera and started up the budget rental car. “They’re both equally close to the airport. I’m going to head back south to be closer to either.”
“Okay, I got him,” Raymond announced about ten minutes later. “He’s in a limousine. There are two men with him, and they look like professionals. I’m logged into a traffic camera and they’re on Interstate ninety-five. They’re headed into Jersey City.”
That was Renee’s position.
“Evan, how long will it take to get there?” asked Sam, who was now on the highway, driving toward the target site at a high rate of speed.
“Twenty minutes, tops.”
“Renee, maintain your position until Evan and I get there,” Sam instructed firmly. “Raymond, once Battleford is at the build site, find us positions that will give us access to him with little resistance.”
“You got it,” Raymond acknowledged.
“What’s the play here, Sam?” Evan asked.
“I’m hoping to find a private spot to have an intimate conversation with him, see what he can tell us about Groveland and bribes to city officials, with a little persuasion. You and Renee will offer cover in case the two bodyguards he’s with have skills.”
The building site in Jersey City was the renovation of a public school located near the suburbs. Renee’s rental car was parked on the street across from the school, in front of an auto body shop. For the next fifteen minutes, Raymond provided updates on Battleford’s approach, and outlined several options for the team to converge on the target. When the limo finally arrived and drove into the construction zone, Renee casually got out of the car and walked around the block to a secluded spot at the corner of the unfinished building. She had a clear line of sight to the trailer near the entrance of the closed-off area, which was being used as a makeshift construction office.
Evan arrived first, and Raymond directed him to another location, where he could creep onto the building site undetected, and with an open view of the office. They both watched with weapons drawn as Battleford exited the limo with his two bodyguards and talked to several men who approached.
“I’m parked at the far side, near the park,” Sam announced a few minutes later. “How are we doing?”
“I have eyes on the target,” Renee confirmed.
“Ditto,” added Evan.
“How many men are with him?” Sam asked as he ran casually toward the action.
“I see six including the two bodyguards,” said Renee. “There should be one woman inside the construction office, doing administrative stuff.”
“Okay, let’s see if he goes inside—then I’ll join him for our chat. If not, we move to plan B.”
“And plan B is . . . ?” Raymond asked.
“I’ll grab him before he gets back in the car,” Sam replied as he found a secure position from which to watch the target. “It’s a little messier.”
The team held their breath as Battleford slowly made his way around to the side door of the trailer, opened it, and stepped inside. The two bodyguards and other workers remained out front, casually talking. Sam quickly ran from his position to the back of the trailer; then he crept along until he could look around the corner and scope out the access entrance.
“You have company, Sam,” Renee whispered into the earpiece. “One of the supervisors is entering the office.”
“What about the others?” he asked, completely relying on his colleagues to provide accurate visual intelligence.
“The bodyguards and other guys are out of visual range. You’re clear,” Evan confirmed.
Sam withdrew his Beretta, released the safety, and made his move. With a quick run, he reached the doors of the trailer and swung them open. The woman was the first to notice him. She was at the very back of the large space, standing beside a desk with a thick folder in her hands. It took her a second to realize he was a stranger with a gun. Battleford was in the middle of the floor with his back to the door, and the second man was just inside. She let out a strangled scream, just as Battleford turned around to find Sam’s gun pointed directly at him. The other man immediately stepped back and raised his hands in the air.
“Nate Battleford, you and I need to have a chat,” Sam said calmly.
Battleford spread his hands wide by his side, suggesting he was unarmed. “You could have made an appointment.”
“Perhaps, but I’m not known for my politeness,” replied Sam. “You are?” The question was directed to the man standing just a couple of feet away.
“Nigel,” he replied briefly, swallowing loudly.
“Okay, Nigel. I’m only here to talk to your boss. So why don’t you go stand beside that lovely lass in the back?”
Nigel nodded and moved sideways and backwards until he was next to the administrator. She now clutched the folder to her chest like a protective shield. Sam holstered his gun in the clip at his waist.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” Battleford asked, clenching his jaw.
“I’m a concerned citizen who has very concrete evidence of Ross Construction doing business with force and intimidation. All things that would put the man in charge in jail for a very long time,” Sam detailed with a steady gaze on the target. “I also know that Groveland Development owns Ross. And you, mate, are now the only connection between Groveland and Ross. That makes you the man in charge, doesn’t it? Unless you know something I don’t.”
Sam watched as Battleford started blinking from nervousness. His original arrogant stance transformed to one more crestfallen and vulnerable.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he claimed, glancing behind him at the other two people.
“Oh, I think you do, Nate. I think you know exactly what I need to know about who is really in charge of this operation,” Sam insisted. “Other wise, you can do the time on their behalf.”
“Look, maybe we can work something out,” Battleford said, leaning closer to Sam and lowering his voice to just above a whisper. “I’m sure we can agree on something that will make this whole thing go away. Just name your price.”
“Wrong answer, Nate,” Sam replied, putting a hand on the butt of his Beretta, looking even more menacing than before. “Are you the man? Or are you going to tell me who is?”
“I can’t tell you anything!”
“Sam, things are starting to get warm outside,” Renee warned through the earpiece. “Looks like the bodyguards are heading your way.”
“Nate, I’m not a patient man,” Sam continued. “So let’s cut right to the chase. Four years ago, you bribed Jason Holt at the Baltimore Journal to bury a story on corruption by Groveland. Is that another crime you’re willing to go down for instead of your boss?”
“Look, I can’t help you, man. You’re wasting your time.”
“I can see that, Nate. So maybe the FBI will have more luck with this discussion.”
Sam stepped forward, ready to take Battleford into custody.
“Wait, wait!” he shouted in panic. “Just wait a second!”
> “Sorry, mate, you’re out of time,” Sam said, now close enough to grab Battleford by the arm and pull it behind his back. “I am detaining you for delivery to police custody under the suspicion of bribery and coercion.”
“I’ll tell you what I know,” Battleford whispered as he leaned closer to Sam. “Just get me out of here!”
Sam paused for a second. Until he caught a flash of sudden movement from behind Battleford and turned quickly to the man named Nigel, who was now holding a pistol pointed at him. The woman screamed, throwing the folder in the air and dropping to the floor to crawl behind her desk. Sam drew his weapon just as Nigel fired, and the sound of two gunshots in rapid succession ricocheted through the small trailer. Sam felt one bullet hit him square in the chest, making him stagger on his feet, but he managed to duck instinctively while firing back. His shot hit Nigel in the right shoulder, and the man jerked back, falling against the rear wall and dropping his gun. Sam slammed back against the side wall of the trailer, clutching at the area near his heart, gritting his teeth against the sharp, intense pain and trying to catch his breath. To his right was the body of Nate Battleford on the floor, with a black hole between his eyes.
CHAPTER 20
“Sam, you good?” Evan shouted through the earpiece.
There were a few short bursts of gunshots outside.
“Aye, I’m good,” Sam replied, trying to keep his voice even. “The trailer is secure, but I have Nate Battleford down. The other guy is injured.”
“Okay, Renee and I have the two bodyguards pinned down near the limo. You’re clear to exit,” added Evan.
“The police are on their way, ETA three minutes,” Raymond confirmed.
“Okay, give me sixty seconds with this guy in here. He took out Battleford, and I want to know why.”
After a few more seconds, the pain in his chest had subsided to a pounding throb. Sam pulled up his black cotton top to undo the large, thick Velcro tabs on each side of his ballistic vest. His breathing became marginally better. He crouched down in front of Nigel. The assailant was breathing deep against the pain in his shoulder, and blood covered his arm down to the elbow.