Infiltration

by Ana Ban

  When Donovan left, I truly went stir crazy. He was right; this safehouse was not what I had become used to. Being holed up in our loft with its wide-open spaces and breathtaking views was very different to this utilitarian prison. Though I felt like a caged tiger, above all, I was worried for Donovan. I could rationalize my concern by believing if something happened to him, I would lose my case; but the truth was, I’d started to care for him.

  My fingers touched my lips briefly as I forced myself to see reason. I didn’t just care for him, I lusted after him. My undercover identity was quickly becoming intertwined with who I was on the inside, and while going down this path might help to convince Donovan of who I was, it could only lead to heartache.

  To take my mind off the impossible situation, I worked out. Though there was no fancy equipment like the gym in our building, I managed to work up a sweat with the basics. Push-ups, sit-ups, burpees, lunges. I even used the bathroom doorway as a pull-up bar, by clinging to the edge with my fingertips. When I’d exhausted myself, I took a shower, allowing the water to soothe my jittery nerves.

  The only clothes kept here looked to be combat ready. Black cargo pants and black t-shirts. The entire bed frame was actually a pull-out compartment, in which I found a stash of weapons. It seems they were prepared for any eventuality.

  Strapping a belt around my waist, I loaded it with knives and two Glock .45’s, as that was my sidearm with the force. Checking the sights before sliding them into compartments, I marveled at the quality of the weapon, wondering briefly where Donovan and Selena had acquired them. He’d told me specifically they were not involved with drug or weapons trafficking, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have connections.

  As I stood, I heard noises at the door. Assuming it was Donovan, but taking no chances, I pulled one of the guns out and trained it on the door.

  The security beeped, and Donovan entered, seeming surprised to find me standing at attention.

  “Selena?” He inquired carefully. “Are you going to shoot me?”

  “No,” I replied, dropping the weapon. “Just being cautious.”

  He nodded, taking in my attire before walking towards the kitchen, setting down the back pack he’d had slung over his shoulder.

  “I brought us a few supplies and made contact with our head of security. They went into lockdown and have already cleared our building. It would be better if we waited to go back until we discover where the leak came from.”

  Trying not to react to those words, knowing in my gut how a leak of this extreme would be handled, I picked up an apple off the counter and examined it.

  “Has this happened before?” I asked.

  “Once,” he told me, tensing. “When you were taken.”

  “How are the ribs?” I asked to distract him.

  “They’ve slowed me down a little, but I’m not in pain.”

  “You need to let it heal properly,” I chastised him. “Or at least contact Dr. White.”

  “No,” Donovan was firm. “I’ll be fine.”

  I let it go, understanding the stubborn streak.

  “I have to leave again,” Donovan told me.

  “I’m coming with you,” was my immediate response.

  “Absolutely not. If something happened to you…”

  “And you think I could let something happen to you?” I asked, incredulous.

  His lips pressed together, and I thought he would argue with me. To my surprise, he agreed. “We need to disguise your face, and your hair.”

  Without hesitation, I opened the small cupboard where I’d found my outfit and pulled out a black scarf, along with another pair of sunglasses. There was also a military style jacket that I slipped on, which covered the small arsenal on my hips.

  Placing the scarf atop my head, I began braiding my hair quickly, including one side of the scarf into the braid. Once I got to the bottom, I looped the scarf one way and the braid the other around my head, securing the ends with a knot on the top of my head. Donovan watched me without a word.

  “I look like I’m trying to hide,” I told him, slipping on the sunglasses. “Isn’t it better to wear normal clothes? Most people aren’t paying enough attention to pick out an individual in the crowd. I stand out because I’m trying to hide.”

  “That is true, under normal circumstances,” Donovan agreed easily. “But these are not normal circumstances. We’ve always been careful to keep your face hidden, and will continue to do so.”

  Deciding not to press him further, I merely nodded my head and followed him out the door. We made our way back down to the underground levels, where the motorcycle waited for us. I climbed on behind Donovan without provocation, enjoying the feel of my arms around his body more than I should.

  With a rev of the engine we were off, heading in the opposite direction than the loft. We took a longer route, with several turns, before stopping in another, similar room. Now that I knew what I was looking for, I could see the tell-tale crack along the otherwise seamless wall where I knew a door would slide open.

  Donovan palmed open the door and I followed on his heel, moving silently through the stairwell. At the next scanner, Donovan paused to check a small surveillance camera that seemed to be positioned just outside the door. I imagined this building must be open to the public, or at least held workers of some kind for Donovan to be displaying this kind of caution. Seeing that the way was clear, he activated the scanner and we walked through the door, hand in hand.

  The hallway we emerged into was unremarkable, with beige walls and gray carpet. As we rounded the corner to the lobby, I was surprised to realize it was daylight out. Being in the safe house had seriously messed with my internal clock.

  At least my sunglass-clad face wouldn’t seem quite so out of place. My heartbeat sped as we approached the doors, realizing I was going outside for the first time in weeks. It would also be my first chance to get a message to my precinct.

  “Follow me exactly,” Donovan said in a low aside.

  From my experience, I knew Donovan had the location of each CCTV camera memorized, as did I. He would be trying to avoid them; I just needed one to see me.

  We walked quickly, though not overly hurried, to our destination. He had yet to tell me what that was, but it would soon become apparent.

  Donovan paused just shy of an intersection, and from the location I knew there was a camera at each corner, along with down the alley to my left. No matter which way we went, we’d hit a camera.

  “I need you to stay right here,” he told me. “Exactly here. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I answered.

  He squeezed my hand gently before moving with his head down across the street. Once he disappeared into a building, I made my move.

  Taking ten steps into the alley, I flipped my glasses down to stare directly into the camera. I tapped a finger nervously against my leg, keeping an eye on the corner.

  Tap, tap, tap, hold, hold. Hold, tap, tap, tap, tap. Tap, hold, tap, tap. Tap. Hold, tap, tap, hold. Tap, Tap. Hold, tap. Hold, hold, tap. Hold. Hold, hold, hold. Hold, tap.

  36 Lexington.

  Tap, tap, tap, tap. Hold, hold, hold. Hold, hold. Tap.

  Home.

  Hold. Tap, tap, hold. Hold, tap. Hold, tap. Tap. Tap, hold, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap, tap.

  Tunnels.

  Not wanting to risk more, I ran back to the exact spot Donovan had left me. Seconds later, he stepped out the door, heading back to me, relieved to see I had listened to him.

  I didn’t risk a glance down the alley as we passed; I merely clasped his hand in mine and followed him to our next stop.

  Chapter 21

  We wound our way through the streets, cutting through alleys and buildings as needed to avoid the cameras lurking at most corners. We didn’t speak, just kept our hands locked together, keeping our pace even. When we finally paused, it was in front of a drab brown building, two stories high. I was unimpressed by its exterior, and even less so by the inside.

 
; The stench hit me first, and I was careful not to gag. Donovan glanced down at me, judging my reaction to the piles of garbage and several sleeping bodies in the hallway, before leading me down a set of stairs.

  “Sorry for the smell,” he murmured. “These are not the most upstanding citizens. Stay close to me, stay silent. Understand?”

  Nodding, I watched with trepidation as he pulled open a door at the bottom of the steps. It led into another small hallway, with a single door at the end, the smell infinitely better. Donovan strode up to it confidently, knocking loudly twice, pausing, rapidly three more times, one more pause and a final knock.

  The door opened and a large man with dark skin and darker eyes filled the frame, his arms crossed. Neither Donovan nor I backed down, showing confidence I didn’t necessarily feel in the moment. My eyes tracked the weapons barely hidden beneath his black leather jacket, making a mental plan in case we ran into trouble.

  “Donovan,” his deep voice rumbled out, and I detected a note of admiration in his tone. That might prove to be useful.

  “Leroy,” Donovan acknowledged him with a bow of his head. “I’m here to see Reggie.”

  “I thought you might be.” Stepping back, Leroy allowed us entrance. To my surprise, he tipped his head at me as I passed. “Good to see you, Selena.”

  Not wanting to speak, as Donovan requested, I merely nodded my head in greeting, letting my lips quirk up at one corner. Once we stepped through the doorway, it was a very different scene from the one above.

  The room opened up into what was clearly a playroom. A couple of pool tables, dart boards and other assorted games were scattered about the room, with a long bar against the back wall. Two scantily clad women stood behind it, looking bored, while a group of men sat on couches in a small gathering area. To the right, the entire wall was made up of dark, reflective glass- undoubtedly a two-way mirror.

  My guess would be offices behind that wall, where a person could oversee the activities in this room. Sticking by Donovan, I paused as he did, waiting for someone in the group to acknowledge us. Leroy was just inside the door we’d come through, about 15 paces from where I stood. My eyes continuously swept the room from behind the dark lenses.

  They made us wait, in some show of chauvinism that merely annoyed me, but Donovan remained expressionless. The men stood as a group, though the ring leader approached us first.

  “Hey, man,” Reggie had a relaxed attitude that belied the weapons I spotted on each man.

  His crew seemed overly confident, their posture both slumped and condescending simultaneously. As I scanned for weapons, I also assessed their weaknesses. There were many. I immediately nicknamed them the three stooges.

  “Reggie,” Donovan greeted the man with dread locks and several gold earrings, which matched the chains around his neck. “It seems we have some things to discuss.”

  “Where’d you hear that from?”

  “Anderson.”

  “You believe anything that snitch tells you?” Reggie asked, throwing an amused smile at his closest henchmen. The three stooges grinned at each other and nodded.

  “In this case, I do,” Donovan ignored the asides. “So, what was your end game?”

  “You accusing us of something, Donny?” Reggie flashed his weapon, stuck in the front of his pants. Typical.

  To his credit, Donovan remained relaxed, not bothered in the slightest by the sight of the gun.

  “I am,” he answered. “And I would like an answer to my question.”

  The stooge to the right, closest to me, shifted slightly, positioning his hand for a quick grab. That was the wrong move.

  In a single leap I was in front of him, slamming my fist into his solar plexus. As he bent forward in pain, I uppercut under his chin with my left, spinning, whipping the gun from his side holster with my right and executing a chop with my left to his throat as I came full circle.

  As he dropped, I’d already transferred his gun to my left, digging into the ribs with my right on the next stooge. Before either left standing could react, I’d grabbed the next gun, tossing both straight to Donovan. With another spin, I’d jammed my elbow into the third stooge, right in his gut, while the second came in for a grab. My foot connected easily with his groin, and he was down for the count.

  To finish off the third, still reeling from my elbow, I grabbed both sides of his head, bringing it down to connect with my knee, slipping his gun out while he fell.

  Only Reggie was left, and he’d yet to move. In one more graceful arc, I placed myself directly behind him, my right arm slipping around his waist to grip the gun still in his pants. Clicking the safety off, I pointed my left hand, with the third stooge’s gun, straight at Leroy.

  Donovan posed in front of me, one arm pointed each at Reggie and Leroy. Mere seconds had passed from the time I’d decided to move to now, and I met Donovan’s eyes to see the shock and slight awe. Besides that brief look, he gave no reaction to my actions. Leroy was the only one who’d been able to move, aiming his gun at me, but with Donovan and I with arms steady, they were outmanned.

  Reggie attempted to move, and I merely cocked the gun in his pants as a reminder he did not currently have free will.

  There were several more seconds of silence. Leroy had yet to lower his weapon, but we clearly had the upper hand, so I just waited. To my surprise, Reggie began to laugh.

  “It’s good to have you back, Selena.”

  Glancing at Donovan, I rose a brow, asking the question without words. He nodded, and we relaxed our position. Releasing my grip on the gun in Reggie’s pants, I stepped away, discharging the case of bullets from the chamber of the gun I still held as Donovan did the same with both of his. We tossed them to the side as Leroy re-holstered and assumed his position at the door as if nothing had transpired.

  The three stooges began to come to, except for the man I’d kneed in the face. He’d recover, but it would take a little longer. Once the first two found their feet, they both glared at me, but my attention was no longer on them. Reggie gestured towards the couches, so Donovan and I- stepping gingerly over the stooge still in a prone position on the floor- accepted the invitation. Donovan sat, but I remained standing, feeling more at ease when I could see everything.

  The two ladies behind the bar busied themselves wiping glasses, though they didn’t seem surprised by the sudden outburst of violence, or its quick end. I imagined it was just a casualty of the job.

  Reggie leaned back, seemingly relaxed after our confrontation. His two stooges stood behind him, arms crossed, continuing to glare daggers at me.

  “You know I want to stay on good terms with you,” Reggie began speaking. “But there were rumors, and I’m a businessman first and foremost.”

  “What rumors?” Donovan practically growled.

  Reggie’s eyes flicked to me, and I understood. The fact that I- or Selena- had been missing hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  “We heard you were captured, Selena. Gone.”

  “And you were, what, just cashing in on an opportunity?”

  Reggie shrugged, which was confirmation.

  “Well, as you can see, she’s very much here,” Donovan gestured towards me with a flourish.

  “Look, I’m not proud of what I did, and I’ve learned my lesson. Never underestimate the two of you,” Reggie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. “How can I help?”

  “You can tell me who invaded our home,” Donovan replied in a light voice. Though he seemed friendly on the surface, I could sense the seething tension lying just below the surface.

  Reggie glanced back at his stooges, trepidation on his face. It was plain to see he’d backed himself into a corner, and it came down to who he feared more; us, or the people trying to hurt us.

  “The De Luca family,” Reggie finally answered.

  My stomach dropped, though I gave no sign of my sudden apprehension.

  There were several beats of silence. I didn’t move, knowing
Donovan was using the uncomfortableness in the room to his advantage. Finally, he spoke.

  “Here’s what I would like from you.”

  Chapter 22

  When we were on the street again, I took a deep breath of fresh air, glad to be out of that horrid house. When Donovan jolted to a stop, I did too, taking lead from him.

  He stepped close, his body crowding mine, but I didn’t give ground. His eyes were aflame, but beneath the anger I could see the fear, and knew whatever he was about to say came from love.

  “You didn’t listen to me,” he spoke quietly, his voice hard.

  “I stayed by your side, and I didn’t say a word. Those were your directions.”

  His mouth popped open, and I could see the rebuttal he wanted to argue battling with amusement at my statement. Eventually, his body relaxed, a small smile playing at his lips.

  “I’d forgotten how much fun it is to watch you in action,” he grinned fully now.

  Knowing I’d been forgiven, I looped my arm through his and began walking down the street. “Is that something I knew how to do?” I asked, watching for a reaction. “It felt… instinctual. That seems to be happening a lot lately.”

  “Muscle memory,” Donovan said offhand. “You know more than you think you do.”

  Deciding to stay quiet, I let him lead me to our next destination. We would have a conversation about the De Luca family, but I would wait until we were somewhere a bit more private.

  Back at our safe house, I asked Donovan to lie down so I could re-dress his wound. Once that was done, I sat opposite him in the chair, while he leaned back against the headboard.

  “All right,” I began. “Explain everything to me.”

  When Donovan spoke, I listened, saving my questions for the end.

  “The first stop we made was so I could speak with a man named Anderson. He’s a weasel, like Reggie claimed, but he’s got a handle on all things that happen in this city. He told me Reggie ratted us out to the DeLuca family, in exchange for getting his crew in the local drug trade.”

  Donovan paused here, seeming to work up his courage.