“Turner. Whatcha need, Tyler?” he asks, sounding bored.
“Hey, sir, it’s Matthews. Why the hell is no one watching Elizabeth?”
“What the hell are you doing there?” His loud voice booms through the phone. “You want to blow this whole mission and get her hurt in the process?” I knew he’d be pissed, but tough shit.
“I’m not blowing anything. Why isn’t anyone watching her?” I demand.
“There is someone on her, which you know since you’re calling from Tyler’s phone.” He’s lowered his voice, but it’s clear he’s still mad as hell by the way he’s talking through his teeth.
I take in a deep breath through my nose in an attempt to remain calm. “No, he’s not watching her at all. Where is video surveillance?”
“I tried, but the department said no. She’s not the priority, getting Cal is.”
“This is bullshit. You want Cal? Then you get eyes on Elizabeth. I can’t concentrate on my job when I’m worrying about her,” I spit out.
A long sigh comes through the phone. “I’ll work on it, Matthews. You just focus on what you’re supposed to do and I’ll do what I can.” It’s not the confirmation I wanted, but there really isn’t anything I can do about it right now. After I hang up, I turn my attention back to Tyler.
“She hasn’t left the house at all? Do you know who came by?”
“No. The windows were blacked out on a Mercedes.” He picks up his coffee mug and takes a drink. I’m not sure why, but something about his observation just doesn’t sit well with me.
“How long were they there for?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. A couple hours maybe.” Great, they assigned a dumbass to watch over the one thing in this world that means everything to me.
“Just so you know, I really want to beat the shit out of you right now,” I deadpan. “You better wake the fuck up and pay attention. If she leaves, you better write down who she’s with and how long she’s gone until I can get some kind of video feed in there.” Leaning forward and lowering my voice, I stare straight into his eyes so he can see the seriousness of the situation. “If you fail to do that, I’ll pull every string I have and see to it that your ass works behind a desk for the rest of your miserable fucking life. You got it?”
“Relax, man. All of this over some girl you banged? Geez, she must have been a real nice piece of a—” The rest of his sentence is cut off when my fist connects to his jaw.
Fisting his shirt collar, I pull him across the center console. “You better watch what you fucking say! That girl in there is the only damn thing I care about right now and if anything happens to her I will hold you accountable.” I release him and swing the car door open. I need to get the hell out of here before I lose my shit completely. Before I close the door, I say, “Call Turner and see if he can tap into their alarm system. We’ll be able to hear what’s going on at the very least.”
“Okay.”
“Do me another favor, call me a cab and have them pick me up six blocks south toward the main road.”
“Will do.” I shut the door, hoping Tyler isn’t dumb enough to fuck up those two simple requests. As I’m walking away, I have to fight everything in me that wants to turn around, knock on her door, and hold her. Being this close and not able to hold her is torture. God, I miss the feel of her skin against mine, the smell of her hair, the sound of her laugh. I just miss her. Even though I want nothing more than to go to her, I keep walking, knowing it’ll be a disaster if I do that now.
An hour later I’m pulling up to the shithole I’ve been calling home for the past month. I take notice of the car parked beside me. I’ve never seen it before, so I have no idea who could be here now. Walking around the back of the car before heading to the door, I look at the license plate.
TAW 636
I pull my wallet out and jot it down on a scrap piece of paper. There’s always a really small pencil stashed in the bottom for things like this.
When I’m done, I put it in my back pocket and open the door to the house. And that’s when I’m completely blindsided.
TWO GUYS GRAB me by my arms as soon as I’m through the door. When I look over at them, I see it’s Rodney and Bruce. “What the fuck is going on?” I ask as I struggle against their hold. I’m able to pull my right arm free and land a punch to Rodney’s face. His hands go to his face and he hunches over in pain. My head snaps to Bruce when I hear the familiar sound of a gun being cocked, causing me to freeze in my spot.
“Why don’t you calm down and have a seat?” My eyes glance up to see a tall, broad guy walking toward me with his gun pointed at my face. In the middle of the room is a single chair, and my instincts are starting to kick into high gear. Both guys guide me to it and begin tying me up once I’m seated. Great, I’m strapped to another chair. This looks promising.
As he walks closer to me, I get the feeling I know him from somewhere. It’s driving me crazy, but I definitely recognize his face. He has a darker complexion, with dark-brown hair and eyes, but it’s the distinct scar which runs down his cheek that stands out.
“I don’t believe we’ve met before,” I say once he’s in front of me. I know I’m being a smart ass and I might pay for it, but I have to play it cool.
He puts his hand on the back of my chair and leans down into my face. “No, we haven’t had the pleasure, Alex. But let’s not waste time on introductions and get down to business.” It’s not lost on me that he avoided telling me who he is, but as I stare at him, it clicks.
One of my buddies works for the DEA. I went over to his place one afternoon to have a few beers and watch some football. He had a file open on his kitchen table that he was working on, and this guy’s picture was lying on top. I can’t remember his name, but I know he’s involved with one of the prominent drug cartels in this country. What I don’t understand is how he ties in with Cal.
“It seems we have a little problem,” he says while still perched on the back of my chair. I almost don’t see it coming it happens so fast. He rears back and punches me right in the gut. I double over as much as I can while tied up and gasp for breath. I’ve been hit quite a few times in the stomach, but it never sucks any less. The wind is knocked out of me and I cough a few times trying to find my air again.
“You’ve had several weeks to complete this job. Yet, it’s still not done. I can’t help but feel like you’re pussyfooting around for a reason.” Before I have a chance to respond, he lands a jab right to my jaw. Pain explodes on impact and ripples out through the rest of my head. I bring my focus back up and glare at him. Now I’m just fucking pissed.
I turn my head to the side and spit to rid my mouth of the blood that’s filling it. “Do you want to hit me again, or do you want to hear what’s going on?” I croak out, my stomach and jaw still aching.
“By all means, inform me.” His fake politeness does nothing to soothe the anger festering inside of me. He takes a couple steps back, giving me some room.
“You can’t just go in and take a guy out and expect to get away with it. It has to be precise, calculated, perfect.”
“But you’re supposed to be the expert. Why is it taking you so long to plan out such an easy task?” he asks sarcastically. I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. I’m hardly an expert at killing innocent people, and it’s been quite a while since I’ve practiced long distance shooting of this magnitude. But I keep all of it to myself since that info would probably result in my death. Right now they need me, and the longer I can make them believe that, the more time I have to bring this asshole and everyone else he’s working with down.
“In the military, some missions would take weeks—months even—to plan. You don’t just go in guns a blazing and expect positive results.” He doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “Right now I’m watching Hutchison during his campaign speeches. I’m looking for patterns, weaknesses, and opportunities. I can’t gather that type of information in a matter of days or weeks. It takes some time. If you want th
is done right, then you need to back off and let me do what you brought me in here to do.” It’s hard to feel confident when you’re tied to a chair, your mouth is bleeding, and your stomach is bruised, but I hope my unwavering eye contact is enough. He needs to understand I’m not intimidated by him, but most importantly, he needs to believe all the bullshit I just fed to him.
He waves his finger at me. “You’re skating on thin ice, my friend. Just know that if I have to come back, it won’t be you that’s tied to the chair.” The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end with his implication. I do my best to push it to the back of my mind and focus on the task at hand.
Before he gets out the door, I say, “Hey, I’ve got a question.” He pauses and turns to face me, arching an eyebrow in annoyance. “What’s in all of this for you? Why do you care if Hutchison is dead?”
“Let’s just say me and my crew hate making poor investments.” He turns on his heels and walks out of the door. I run that sentence through my mind several times. Poor investments? Was Hutchison involved with them somehow and a deal went bad? Is this payback? As Rodney gives me a warning and cuts the ties off of me, I know one thing for certain. I have to come up with a reason to leave and get this information to my boss as soon as possible. This guy could be the connecting link we’ve been searching for.
TODAY HAS BEEN perfect. Actually, every day since I got assigned to Cal’s case has been perfect. I think I’ve finally done it. I’ve finally gotten Elizabeth to let down her guard enough for me to see the real her. And the real her is fucking amazing. She’s smart, kind, vibrant, gorgeous, and perfect for me in every way.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, bringing me out of my thoughts.
Shaking my head, I say, “Nothing really.” We’re both laying down on the couch in my living room. Her arm is draped over my chest with her chin resting on it while she looks up at me. This is the most content I’ve felt in a long time. She has the ability to wipe away all the bad shit that’s hiding in the back of my mind. Memories that I’d wished to God I could forget. I’d done a lot to outrun my past—the things I’d seen and done—but wasn’t successful. Little did I know all I needed was this incredible woman to keep the ugly away.
“I like being here,” she says on a sigh, laying her cheek against my chest.
I tighten my hold on her. “I like it, too.”
“I have to admit, it’s not what I was imagining.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I figured it would be more . . . messy.”
“Messy?” I ask incredulously, pretending to be offended. She giggles just a little at my tone. “Oh, you think that’s funny, huh?” She laughs again, so I grab her sides and start to tickle her.
“Okay, okay!” she screams between gasping for air and squirming around. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” My fingers stop moving as I gently grab her arms and pull her up to me. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face as I look into her eyes. After slowly pushing her hair behind her ear, I lean in and kiss her. We kiss a lot, but every time my lips touch hers, it feels like the first time. And I don’t give a shit if that makes me sound like a pussy. It’s the truth.
Pulling my mouth away from hers, I hold her as she lies on top of me. “There’s something I want to tell you. Something I should’ve said a long time ago.”
Her eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Okay,” she says uncertainly.
I’ve only said this to one other girl, and she broke my fucking heart. I haven’t said it since. I’ve never wanted to. But laying here with her now, I know I can’t go another minute without her knowing exactly how I feel about her. “No one has meant more to me than you, and I want you to know exactly how I feel so there’s no misinterpreting where my heart is. Elizabeth, I lo—”
I’m cut off by a loud bang. Looking over Elizabeth’s head, I see a guy with a mask coming through the now unhinged door. I move to get Elizabeth off of me so I can get up, but I’m just not fast enough. The guy raises a gun and shoots her in the back of the head, her lifeless body collapsing on top of me.
“No! No . . .”
I jump up off the mattress and look around frantically for Elizabeth. My heart is going a million beats a second and I’m covered in sweat. When I realize I’m sitting in this run down room, I breathe out a sigh of relief that it was just a dream. My face rests in my hands as I try to regulate my breathing again.
I’m no stranger to nightmares. I used to get them frequently. But most of the time they’re of shit that’s already happened, making me relive horrible events all over again. This was something completely different, but it still felt just as real. Now I can’t get that image of Elizabeth out of my head. Seeing her like that was crippling. I was unable to do anything but yell out in disbelief.
I spend the rest of the night lying on this dirty ass mattress, staring up at the ceiling until Bruce wakes up. The whole time, I’m carefully planning my next move so my nightmare doesn’t become a reality and I can be with Elizabeth again. Each minute I’m not with her kills me. Being able to hold her and make sure she’s safe is all I can think about. The longer she stays with Cal, the more her life is at risk. I’ve got to get things moving because I might not be able to wait on Turner to bring this all down.
“We’re going to North Carolina. Have your boss get the jet ready,” I say to Bruce.
“What’s the plan?”
“To take out Hutchison.”
Later that day, we’re in North Carolina and I’m dropped off a mile or so away from my target location. I spot a little diner and decide to stop in there to see if they have a phone I can use. Once I’m handed one by the nice, old lady working there, I dial up Turner’s number.
“Turner,” he answers curtly.
“Sir, it’s Matthews.” I look around the empty diner to make sure no one is paying attention to me.
“What’s the latest?”
“I think I’ve got another lead. I need you to find my friend Marshall Burns with the DEA. Tell him I told you to call and need the name of the guy in that file I saw. He’ll know what you’re talking about.” Glancing at my watch, I know I’m running out of time.
“What’s with the guy in the file?” he asks.
“I can’t remember his name, but I know he’s with a cartel. My buddy was working on the case. He’s linked to Cal in some way. I don’t know why or how yet, but there’s definitely a connection.”
“And what makes you think that?”
“Because the guy tied me to a fucking chair and kicked my ass. The only thing he said was that he and his crew hate making bad investments. I’ve got a plate number too.” I dig my wallet out of my back pocket and pull out the little piece of paper I wrote it down on.
“Hold on.” After a few seconds he says, “Go ahead, I’m ready.”
“Tango, Alpha, Whiskey, 6–3-6.”
“Okay, I’ll run these plates and see if anything pops up.”
“Anything on Elizabeth?” I need to know she’s okay. Not being able to look at her with my own eyes and know that she’s okay makes me anxious. No matter what Turner tells me, I know I won’t fully believe it until I can see it.
“I actually have good news on that. This is strictly off the record and I had to pull a few strings to get this done, so you owe me, but did you know there are cameras wired throughout the house?”
“No . . .” I draw out the word.
“There are two cameras in just about every room; the living room, kitchen, and bedrooms. We were able to tap into the live feed, and Tyler watches it from his car.”
“Do you know how long the cameras have been there?”
“No, why?”
I shake my head. “Just wondering.” That must be how Cal knew Elizabeth and I had sex. The idea of him watching us like that makes me sick to my stomach.
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s fine as far as I know. You let Tyler worry about her; you focus on your job.�
�� Yeah, easier said than done. She’s all I think about, my sole motivation right now. I tell him I’ll keep him updated and hang up. I have to make one more call before I need to get set up.
There are rows and rows of cars off to the side of the stage in a parking lot, giving me cover. I lie on my stomach under a truck and look through the scope of my rifle I hid in a duffle bag I have with me. With a clear view of the podium, this shot wouldn’t be so bad if I had the right equipment and preparation. Glancing down at my watch, I know we’re getting close.
A slight commotion on stage catches my attention. Secret Service members are quickly leaving their positions and jogging off toward a tent that I’m sure Hutchison is waiting in. I look through the scope on my gun to get a better view of what’s going on. I don’t see anything until a seemingly frazzled woman comes on stage and says, “I’m sorry, but this rally has been canceled due to an emergency. We appreciate everyone who came out and hope to see you again if we get a chance to reschedule. Thank you.”
“Did you get it done?” Bruce asks when I get back in the car.
“Nope,” I reply nonchalantly as I settle into the back seat.
“Why the hell not?” He raises his voice as anger takes over his face.
“Because it was canceled. Some lady announced that it wasn’t happening because of an emergency.” I shrug.
“What the fuck? You better not be bullshitting me.” He’s stern in his warning.
“Look it up if you don’t believe me.” I maintain my cool demeanor, but little do they know I’m the reason the event was canceled. I placed an anonymous tip that there was a bomb. I never planned to assassinate Hutchison, but I need Cal and his guys to think I tried so they get off my ass a little.
“Son of a bitch, he’s telling the truth,” he says to Rodney who’s driving. “So what’s your plan now?” he grumbles.
“I’m back to square one. So tell your boss to lay off a little because it’s going to take some time.”
Uncovered by Truth Page 3