by Nancy Mehl
Thankfully, Mark appeared to be doing a little better, although he was still weak. He’d changed into a clean T-shirt, and she could see that his gunshot wound had been redressed and bandaged. The bleeding had stopped.
Mark and Mercy both helped Jess get out of his coat.
“I . . . I need something hot,” he said, his voice faint. “Please.”
Mark went over to the coffeemaker and turned it on. “We’ll get you whatever you need, but you’ve got to tell us what happened out there. Where’s Tally?”
Jess slumped forward and dropped his head into his hands. Then he looked up and said, “We circled the house. Everything was fine. So we decided to go to the barn. The wind started picking up and it got harder to see. We were about halfway there when . . .”
Mercy waited impatiently for him to finish. It felt as if her heart were in a vise that was getting tighter and tighter. The coffeemaker made a gurgling noise behind them. There wasn’t another sound except for the howling wind buffeting the house.
“When what?” Mark asked.
“When we were attacked,” Jess finally replied. “I wouldn’t have gotten away if it wasn’t for Tally. He fought them like a crazy man, giving me a chance to run the other way. The men disappeared into the storm with him. That’s all I know.” He gazed into Mercy’s eyes. “I started to go after them, but then I realized I’d either lost my gun or one of them had taken it. Since I couldn’t help Tally, I decided to come back here, pick up another gun, and get your assistance.”
Mercy felt as if the ice outside had seeped into her body. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t seem to speak.
For the first time, Jess noticed Mark’s arm. “What happened to you?”
“We were shot at,” Mark said. “I guess by the same people you ran into outside.”
“Was Tally all right when you saw him last?” Mercy could barely get the words out. They felt like rocks in her mouth.
“They beat him up pretty good . . . like they did me. But he was conscious. I got the impression they didn’t want to kill us. They wanted us alive.”
Mark brought a cup of hot coffee over and sat it in front of Jess. “It’s clear the cartel has found us. But they won’t kill us until they get what they want.” He turned to Mercy, and she saw the concern in his eyes, though he tried to appear calm. “I’m beginning to think they were here when we arrived.”
“But that doesn’t make sense,” Mercy said, her mind struggling to put the pieces of a confusing puzzle together. “How would they know where we were going? You said Batterson put this together at the last minute. How would the cartel know about this place ahead of time?”
Mark looked grim. “It had to be the mole,” he said. “Someone told them about our operation. It’s the only thing that makes sense. No one could have followed us in this weather. They were waiting for us.”
“But our people aren’t here? Batterson knew our location. Where is our backup?”
Mark just stared at her. Mercy could tell her question had hit home. Even if there wasn’t much time to put their plan into action, Batterson was nothing if not prepared. It wasn’t like him to take so many chances.
“There was time, Mark,” she said. “Time to send someone out ahead of our arrival. Maybe I don’t know Batterson as well as you do, but he’s smart. And careful. I can’t believe he’d get us in a situation that could spiral out of control like this. I mean, we didn’t know a major storm was coming, but everyone knew the weather could be rough. He would have taken that into consideration . . . and then taken proactive steps. Isn’t that what he’s always telling us to do?”
Mark appeared to roll this over in his mind. “Yeah, that makes sense. To be honest, something about this operation hasn’t felt right from the beginning.”
Jess, who had been quietly sipping his coffee, looked up at them. “I hate to ask this question, but”—he put his cup down on the table in front of him but kept his hands wrapped around it—“is it possible Batterson is the mole? Could he have sent us out here knowing the cartel would find us?”
Slowly, Mark went over and sat down at the table. “I . . . I don’t think so. I’ve known him a long time. He wouldn’t betray his people. Not for anything.”
“Mark, did you talk to anyone else about this?” Mercy asked. “Do you know who he sent after us?”
The look on his face answered Mercy’s question. She didn’t even need to hear his response. “He told me to keep it quiet. Not to say anything to anyone about it.”
Jess grunted. “I think Batterson is working for the cartel. This entire scenario was a setup designed to lure Mercy out here where the cartel could get to her.”
“But why go to all this trouble?” Mercy asked. “Why not grab me in St. Louis?”
“That would be really risky,” Mark said. “People knew about the video.” He gestured toward Jess. “LAPD for one.”
“Once we told Batterson about it,” Jess said, “if something happened to you, it could lead them right back to him. He knew that. So he sends you out of town with the idea of catching the cartel when they follow you. He says he will protect us and help us shut down the cartel. But the truth is, he just sent us out like sheep for the slaughter.”
“But Tally . . .”
“Tally was the only other person who knew about the video, Mercy,” Mark said. “Maybe that’s why he sent Tally with us. To get everyone out here who knew the truth.”
“Like you said,” Jess said, “LA knows. He can’t fool them.”
Mark shrugged. “Unless Batterson’s working with someone there. The Vargas cartel operates out of LA. Who knows? They might already be blackmailing your people with this cellphone-video scheme. One thing I’ve learned about Vargas—he never leaves loose ends.”
“But how can you suspect the chief?” Mercy asked Mark. “I thought you were friends. You’ve always respected him.”
“I don’t want to, Mercy,” he said. “I mean, I don’t really . . .” Mark sighed. “Give me another explanation that makes sense. Batterson kept this quiet. He gave us the file with this address. He’s orchestrated everything . . . except the storm.”
“He couldn’t have predicted that we wouldn’t be able to contact anyone.”
“But why would that worry him? If we were in trouble, he’s the person we’d call. It’s the perfect plan.”
“Look, you two,” Jess said, “I know you’re upset, but we need to come up with some kind of strategy to get us out of here alive. I’m not sure how many people are after us, but I’m fairly sure we’re outnumbered.”
“Our first priority is to find Tally,” Mercy said, trying to keep her voice steady. Fear of losing him made her feel almost paralyzed.
“We can’t help Tally if we’re dead, Merce,” Mark said. “Jess is right.” He got up and walked over to the sliding glass door. “When the wind dies down, we’ll have an advantage. We should be able to spot them before they get here. We need to guard our perimeter. It’s our only chance to stay safe.” He glanced at a large clock on the living room wall. “It’s a little after two in the morning. In four or five hours we’ll have some daylight. If we can hold them off until then, that should give us time to figure something out.”
“If we get much light,” Jess said. “With all the cloud cover and blowing snow, it will be tough going even with the sun up.”
“What about Tally?” Mercy asked. “You can’t just abandon him.”
Mark shook his head. “We’re not abandoning him, but we have no idea where he is. Going out to look for him now is too dangerous, plus we have almost no hope of finding him. They could have moved him miles away by now. And none of us is one hundred percent. Instead of forging ahead without thinking it out first, we need a solid plan. We’ve got to figure out the best way to save Tally—and ourselves.”
“We need that flash drive,” Jess said.
“If I did know where it was, I’d never give it to them,” Mercy said angrily. “I’d die before I’d turn it over
.”
Jess was silent for a moment. Then he clasped his hands together and stared at her. “Mercy, you need to think about that very carefully.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think that’s why they took Tally. They’re planning to use him as a bargaining chip.”
The sickening truth sank in then as Mercy slowly nodded. “They’re going to kill him unless I give them the flash drive, aren’t they?”
Neither man answered her. They didn’t need to.
Chapter
Twenty
After opening his eyes, it took several painful moments for Tally’s vision to clear. He hurt from having the butt of a gun slammed into the side of his head. He was sitting on something soft, his hands tied together behind him, wrapped tightly around some kind of pole. As he attempted to get his bearings, he realized he was inside a barn. Was he still on the property? He tried to chase the cobwebs of confusion from his brain. What was it Jess said about the barn? Horses had been kept here. Something about the owners moving the horses while they were in Arizona. But there was no sign horses had ever been inside this building. No feed. No stalls. Maybe he was somewhere else. If so, that would make it almost impossible for his team to find him.
“You finally awake, man?”
Tally looked to his left and found a young man staring down at him. “Who . . . who are you? Where am I?”
The guy sneered at him. “Sit still and don’t cause no trouble. I’ll tell ’em you back with us.”
With that he turned and walked away. The guy looked like a gang member. Tally could tell more about him if he could see his tats, but he had on a large lined sports jacket associated with the Bloods in St. Louis. What was someone like him doing out here? Had he been sent by the cartel?
Tally wriggled around until he could sit up straighter. Besides a severe headache, his side hurt. He had a fuzzy memory of being kicked before he was hit with the gun. He tried to remember what happened, but the last thing he could recall was walking through the snow with Jess. He tried to concentrate even harder, but it hurt to think. When were they attacked? How could they have been overcome by gangbangers? They were trained law-enforcement officers. He tried to move his head around to see if Jess was with him, but no one else was near.
“Hello, Officer.” A big man walked around from behind a partial wall. Dressed in black, he looked as if he were ready to venture out onto the ski slopes. Obviously he was prepared for the cold. It was certainly warmer inside the barn than it had been outside. Tally’s ears and nose felt frozen. His hood had been pulled off, leaving his head exposed. Thankfully he still had on his coat and gloves.
“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” Tally demanded.
The man pulled up a wooden chair that sat against the wall. He didn’t look familiar. His face was badly pockmarked, and his teeth—which he displayed as he gave Tally a mocking smile—were stained from nicotine. Tally could smell cigarette smoke on his clothes even from several feet away. With all the hay scattered on the ground, Tally prayed he wouldn’t accidentally set the barn on fire.
“You are not in a position to ask questions, my friend,” the man said.
Tally could hear an accent. Hispanic. Was this guy connected with the Vargas cartel?
Tally tried to shift a little to get more comfortable, the effort causing him to want to groan from the pain. But he forced himself to keep quiet—he wouldn’t want to give his captor the satisfaction. “Where’s my partner?”
“Not to worry. He made it back to your other friends. He’s telling them that we have you. And just about now they’re probably figuring out that if they want to see you alive, they will give us what we want.”
“The flash drive? You guys have it all wrong. Mercy Brennan doesn’t have it. She never did. You’re wasting your time.”
The man leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. Tally noticed he had on black boots with pointed toes. Not fit for skiing after all, although Tally had been right about the outfit being geared for warmth. The man sported a messy Fu Manchu mustache, and his eyes were black and soulless, reminding Tally of a shark.
“You’re wrong—she has it. We know she does.”
“And how could you know that? I’m telling you she doesn’t.”
The man licked his lips as if preparing for a meal. “She has to. She’s the only one her father saw before he was . . . dealt with. She is the only person he could have passed it to.”
“Before he was killed, you mean. Has it occurred to you geniuses that she already turned it in? That the authorities have it?”
“No. They do not have it. We are sure of this.”
Tally made a sound of disgust. “Oh, yeah. Your mole. Maybe Mercy knew about the mole and gave it to someone else. Someone who has help on the way.”
The man laughed harshly. “I am afraid you are suffering under a delusion, my friend. No one is coming. You are quite alone. And before this day is over, we will have what we need from Marshal Brennan.”
“I don’t think you will. There are two U.S. Marshals in that house and an LA detective. Not people to mess around with. They know what they’re doing, and they won’t be easily overcome.”
“It has been handled,” the man said.
If it were physically possible for Tally to be any colder than he already was, a chill would have run through him at the criminal’s words. Had they already breached the house? Were his friends in danger? He tried to shift his weight again. “You’re underestimating them. And me.”
The man didn’t answer, just continued to stare at him.
Realizing he wasn’t gaining any ground, Tally decided to take another approach. He needed to know what they were up against. “Who are you?” he asked. “And who’s with you? Your friend looks like a gangbanger. Hardly reliable backup. Is he all you have?”
After a hoarse laugh, the man made a sweeping motion with his arm and nodded his head. “I am Elias Vargas. My brother is Ephraim Vargas, the head of the Vargas cartel. I have several men with me. Yes, some are gang members.” He grunted and looked behind him to see if anyone was listening. “Necessary evil if we are to get our . . . products distributed throughout your city.” He shrugged. “You’re right. They are certainly unreliable, but they will kill without hesitation. And if we decide we don’t need them anymore, not many people will mourn their loss.” He laughed again. “Cheap labor.”
Tally kept silent as he considered the information Vargas had given him. He wasn’t naïve; he and his team were in danger. He also noticed that Vargas wasn’t trying to hide the truth, and there was only one explanation for that. He had no plans to keep any of them alive.
Chapter
Twenty-One
Mercy took a quick, hot shower and changed into dry clothes, strapped on her holster, checked her gun, and made sure she had plenty of ammunition. She grabbed the book off the shelf where she’d hidden the flash drive. After sliding the device into a plastic sandwich bag she’d found in the kitchen, she stuffed it into her jeans pocket. It wasn’t a good hiding place, but she wanted it with her until she could figure out something better. It was a little after six in the morning and she’d gone over twenty-four hours without sleep. She was operating on pure adrenaline.
Mark wouldn’t be happy with what she was about to do, but she didn’t care. At that moment she had one purpose, and no one would keep her from carrying it out.
When she came out into the living room, she found the men sitting on the couch. There were plates of cheese, crackers, and some kind of meat on the coffee table, along with fresh coffee.
“Not the most nutritious breakfast,” Jess said when he saw her, “but it will do in a pinch.”
He looked better than he had before his shower, yet she could tell he was tired. And while Mark was strong, losing all that blood had weakened him. He looked pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes. It was clear neither man was at full strength. She would have to count on herself to get them through the next few h
ours.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Mark asked when he noticed the coat she held in her right arm.
“I’m going after Tally.” She said it firmly, hoping he knew her well enough to realize she had no plans to debate her decision.
Mark jumped to his feet, then swayed a bit before he regained his equilibrium. “No, you’re not. I won’t allow it.”
Mercy pulled on her coat and zipped it. “I don’t care whether or not you allow it. I’m not asking permission. I won’t leave Tally out there without help. No way.”
Jess stood slowly. “I’ll go with you, Mercy.”
She gave him a small smile. “No, Jess, but thanks for offering. Even though I know you want to help, in the end you’d just slow me down. Besides, you need to protect the house. Once I get Tally, we’ll need a safe place to come back to.”
“You seem to forget that I’m in charge of this operation,” Mark said through clenched teeth. “And I’m ordering you to stand down. We have no idea what’s out there. You could be walking into an ambush.”
“Mark, I’m going. The only way you can stop me is to shoot me. And I don’t think you’ll do that.”
“I have to agree with Mark,” Jess said. “It’s a bad idea, Mercy.”
Mercy didn’t bother to respond. There was no way she could turn her back on Tally. She knew he would do the same thing for her. She also knew what Batterson would tell her—what her training told her—but some things superseded her directives. And Tally was one of them.
“I won’t let you go.” Mark walked around the table and stood in front of her. “I won’t shoot you, but Jess and I can keep you from leaving, no matter how bad off we are.”
“I can handle myself, and I can deal with these scumbags,” Mercy said, trying to keep her voice steady. Of course she was afraid, but there was no other choice. The faces of Annie, Joshua, and Gracie were front and center in her thoughts. Tally’s family needed him, and if things went wrong, Mercy had to know she’d done everything she could to save him.