by Brian Shea
Cain had been through similar ordeals in past service to the Pastor and knew this was his new vehicle. The other one would be cleaned and reassigned, if not gutted and burned. Either way, it would never be used by him again. The door was unlocked, and the keys were tucked under the lip of the steering column. Always in the same place. Cain knew the plates would be registered to him. To the name on his driver’s license: Kyle Jenkins. An arbitrary association of letters that meant nothing to him. It was a clean name. One that allowed him the ability to move among the Heathens without notice.
Cain gave a sigh of relief as he looked to the passenger seat and saw his large CD storage case. It was the only worldly possession he clung to, and without it he was lost. He sat in the driver’s seat, allowing a moment for his body to adjust to the position. He pulled out his phone and opened the application.
He stared at the screen in disbelief. Cain manipulated it, pressing his fingers outward and zooming into the location of the Heathen. His mind was frantic. What he was seeing didn’t make any sense and he let out a frustrated scream that reverberated in the quiet interior of the Ford.
The beacon showed that the Heathen was on the move, traveling north of Dallas. She was at least four hours ahead of him. He was angry at himself for allowing the post-surgery respite. Cain dug his right index finger into the dressing on his left bicep, allowing for the pain to release his frustration.
He grabbed a granola bar and bottle of water from his duffle bag. He was woozy from the warehouse surgery and needed to add some calories. Cain washed down a mouthful and slipped the car into drive, pulling out into the whirlwind of Austin’s Monday morning downtown commuters.
“It’s been a while,” Jay said, recognizing Nick’s number and answering it on the second ring.
“It sure has,” Nick said to his friend.
“These days I get a little nervous when I see your number,” Jay said.
The comment was made in jest, but there was a truth behind that statement.
“I’m back in Texas,” Nick said.
“I know.” There was a silence that followed.
Jay knew a lot of things. He had a network of informational resources at his disposal. Jay’s skill in the intelligence world had served Nick well numerous times in the past.
“Every time you call me things get a little dicey. Especially, when you’re in Texas.”
“I’m working on something and I need your help,” Nick said, regretting that the two only talked when circumstances dictated. Their friendship was now one driven by need.
“So, this is a business call?” Jay said, bypassing the nostalgic walk down memory lane.
“Yup,” Nick said, wincing as he moved to reposition.
“You all right?” Jay asked, registering the grunting sound made by Nick.
“I took a knife to the gut last night,” Nick said, nonchalantly.
“You’re like a crash-test dummy,” Jay said, chuckling softly at his own joke. He continued, “Seriously, what have you gotten yourself into this time?”
“I stumbled across a human trafficking case. It’s international. They’re moving young girls in from Mexico,” Nick said, covering the details quickly so he could get Jay up to speed on the reason for the call.
“Jesus. How old?” Jay asked.
“They’re young. The youngest we’ve come across today is between nine and eleven,” Nick said.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Jay said, with disgust.
“Somebody has to.”
It was a line that Nick had used in response to this typical reaction. Even the hardest of cops steered away from these kinds of cases. It took a special breed. It took people like Nick and Kemper Jones.
“I’ll do whatever I can to help you. What do you need?” Jay asked.
After their last few experiences together, he had little doubt that his CIA friend would back down.
“We found what looks like some type of microchip embedded under the skin near their hip.”
“Describe it to me.” Jay was all in.
“It’s small. About the size of my thumbnail. It is black but encased in a clear plastic. No markings that I can make out,” Nick replied and then added, “I’ll send you some pics when we hang up.”
“Okay. I’m guessing you want me to see what I can do with it?” Jay asked, stating the obvious.
“I think it’s some sort of tracking device. I want you to see if you or someone you know can access the data on this,” Nick said.
“Without me getting it in the hands of someone I trust, I won’t know for sure what I can do,” Jay said. He never gave false promises.
“How am I going to get it to you?” Nick asked.
“I’ll send someone. Where are you and how long will you be there?” Jay asked.
“I’m at the Dell Seton Medical Center in downtown Austin, and I’m only going to be here for another hour or so,” Nick said, optimistically.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Jay said.
“I hate to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I’m going to need you to expedite this. A girl is on the run and the asshole who tried to give me the hari kari is still out there.” Nick did not elaborate. Jay would understand the implication.
“Okay. If this is a tracking chip, then we may have some options,” Jay said, pausing before adding, “Tell me you’re not alone on this one.”
“I’ve got some good people out here and, believe it or not, Declan and Izzy are on their way,” Nick said, confidently.
“Good to hear,” Jay said. “I’m sending someone to pick up the chip. He should be there before you’re discharged,” Jay said.
“You work fast,” Nick said, sounding genuinely impressed.
“Like you said, I’m expediting,” Jay said, ending the phone call.
Nick knew his friend did not waste time with small talk, especially when time was of the essence. With Mouse on the run and the bald guy unaccounted for, time was definitely not on their side.
39
The vibration in his pocket pulled him out of his light sleep. Retrieving the phone, Declan looked down at the caller ID: Val. He stretched, sat up and then answered.
“Hey babe, everything okay?” Declan asked, knowing she did not typically call unless it was something urgent.
They did not define their love with a need to maintain constant contact. The occasional text message was exchanged but typically calls were reserved for emergencies.
“Sorry to route my call through your wife’s number, but I wanted to guarantee that you would answer,” the male voice said.
Declan was paralyzed with fear. Someone from the Seven had come for his family. With the debt left unsettled, it was something that gnawed at the back of his mind. The words of Khaled the Translator’s last threat echoed to this day. A threat against his family: “Your house will burn and collapse on top of them.”
“If you so much as look at my family funny, then I will bring a world of pain upon you like you’ve never known,” Declan said, spitting the words.
“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 al
ready 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.
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 her 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.
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.
“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.