by David Archer
Noah shrugged. “I lived on a farm for a while as a teenager, and got to help overhaul cars, trucks, tractors, you name it. I'm pretty good, but I'm smart enough to keep a Chilton manual around.”
Sarah gave him a scoffing look. “Chilton manuals are old school,” she said. “Nowadays, if there's something you don't know how to do, just Google it. I guarantee you there's a YouTube video to show you how it's done. I've seen one with a seven-year-old kid teaching people to do basic mechanical repairs. Just amazing.”
“A mechanical prodigy?” Neil asked. “Somehow, I suspect you were probably one of those, yourself.”
“Maybe,” Sarah said. “I rebuilt an old Honda ninety cc trail bike when I was nine. Found it in my dad's junk pile and asked him if I could have it. He said I could, if I could get it running, so I went to Google. Two months later, I was riding it around the yard, and that's when he started teaching me about cars and such. He said I had a knack for it, but I didn't realize back then what was going on.”
“What do you mean?” Noah asked.
“Well, every once in a while, Dad would fix a car for someone, but most of the time all we did was take them apart. Everything went into these semi trailers, and I really got a kick out of taking a whole car and reducing it down to nothing. I was fourteen by the time I figured out that we were running a chop shop. The cars were stolen, and we were shipping all the parts to really big parts yards in different cities. I learned later that most of those parts were sold even before we got them into the trailers.”
Noah nodded. “That's how you ended up in trouble, right?”
Sarah laughed, but it was a bitter laugh. “Some of the guys who used to bring us the boosted cars decided to retire, or maybe they just got too smart to keep doing it as cars got more and more sophisticated. When I was sixteen, my dad started taking me out on roundups, which is what he called it when we went out and stole cars. I got away with it for years, but last year I got caught, chased into a trap by a cop, so there was no way to escape. They got my dad that night too, and we were both looking at federal sentences, since we were selling parts across state lines. We would've gotten thirty years or more, which would've been a life sentence for my dad, but then this lawyer came to talk to me and said if I would be willing to join E & E, and let my dad and everyone else I knew think I killed myself in my cell, then I’d get a whole new life and my dad would get a more lenient sentence, only five years, with the chance to learn how to run a real shop when he got out.” She shrugged. “I love my dad, but I was tired of living under his thumb, and I sure didn't want to be in prison for the next thirty years. I took it.”
“That's understandable,” Noah said. “Well, anytime you get an itch to get your hands greasy again, come on out. Once I get really settled in here, in the organization, I mean, I'm probably going to buy an old car now and then, one to fix up like a hobby. You'll always be welcome.”
She smiled at him, and he realized it was the first time she had let him see her real smile. “I'd like that,” she said. “Maybe this weekend, if we're off?”
Noah nodded. “Sounds perfect,” he said, and then he led them all toward the lake. They ended up passing the mobile home, so he showed it to them as well. It was an older single wide, but it was in incredibly good condition. The furniture was not new, but it was all in perfect shape, and even the kitchen appliances looked like they belonged in a showroom.
“Holy crap,” Neil said. “Who lives here?”
“Nobody. It's just an extra place. I thought about renting it out, but I'm not sure I'd want anybody that close to me.”
Neil turned to look at him. “What if it was one of us? Dude, I grew up in a trailer just like this, till I was twelve. That's when my mom took off, and I ended up in foster homes. I'd rent this from you, if you'd be willing.”
Noah looked at the kid for a minute, then grinned. “We can do that,” he said. “We'll work out the details later, but you can move in whenever you want. Just tell me how much rent you think it's worth, and that'll be fine with me.”
Neil seemed ecstatic, and spent a couple of minutes exploring the trailer. Noah gave him a key as they all went on down to the boathouse, and the kid left shortly thereafter to start moving. Noah took out his phone and called Allison, just to make sure this deal was okay with her, and she gave her blessing.
Noah, Sarah and Moose took the boat out for a couple of hours, then went back to the house and spent the rest of the day just hanging out, and talking. Sarah went into the kitchen and dug through Noah's freezer and pantry, then made a pizza for them for lunch. It was surprisingly good, and Noah said so.
“I had a boyfriend who ran a pizzeria,” she said, “and he taught me. I'm really not much of a cook, but I can make pretty good pizza, and a few other Italian meals. My lasagna? To die for! Treat me nice, and I'll make it sometime.”
“I love lasagna,” Moose said. “Treat her real nice, boss.”
They ate at the table, but then wandered into the living room and watched a movie. Noah wasn't terribly surprised when Sarah sat down beside him on the sofa, or when she moved closer and pulled his arm around her shoulders. He smiled, and she returned it, but he could see in her eyes that she was fully aware that the smile was strictly for her benefit.
“You don't have to do that, you know,” she said. “I would imagine that it's been hard, all these years, not to be able to just be yourself. You don't have to pretend with us. We know you don't really feel anything. You don't have to fake it.”
Moose nodded his head. “She's got a good point,” he said. “With us, it's okay to just be—well, whoever you really are. We know the score, so if you don't laugh, or you don't smile, were not gonna get upset.”
Noah looked from one to the other, then nodded his head. “Thank you,” he said. “I haven't had anyone who really knew about me since I was a kid, or at least no one who would just accept it. I think it would be nice to be able to let my guard down, here at home anyway.”
Sarah smiled, genuinely this time, and turned to watch the movie. That movie led to another one, and then to a third. Like Noah, Sarah and Moose were enjoying the opportunity to just relax.
It was almost six in the evening by the time they were sick of watching movies, and Moose was making noises about being hungry again. Noah offered to cook dinner, but Moose suggested they go out, instead. There was a restaurant that he knew of that was only a few miles away on Temple Lake Road, actually a little ways off the compound, but they weren't restricted.
“Come on,” Moose said, “it's my treat. Maybe I'm beginning to realize you're not that bad a guy, and maybe I'm beginning to think I shouldn't have said that about us never being friends. Let me buy dinner, I promise you're gonna love this place.”
Noah got to his feet, and pulled Sarah up behind him. “It isn't that often somebody offers to buy me dinner,” he said. “I'm not about to turn that down.”
They followed Moose out to his car, a surprisingly sedate-looking Chevrolet sedan. Noah looked at him. “I would have figured you for the sports car type.”
Moose shook his head. “Not really, not me,” he said. “That would've been my kid brother, but he wrapped himself around a tree a couple years ago. He's alive, but he's in a wheelchair, now. That sort of put an end to any hot rodding ideas, for both of us.”
Noah felt his eyebrows shoot up. “You have a brother? I thought we weren't supposed to have any living relatives.”
Moose grinned. “My brother is convinced that I'm dead, and that he actually went to my funeral. I was killed in a fiery car crash, so it was a closed coffin. They didn't have to go to a lot of trouble to come up with a body, in my case. I'm not sure, but I think the casket was empty.”
They got into the car, and Moose drove back up the county road to the two-lane blacktop, and then turned right. Because of the curves, the trip took almost fifteen minutes, even though it was only about five miles to the restaurant. They pulled up in front of a rustic-looking building that had a
big sign over its front porch that read, “The Sagebrush Saloon.”
They got out, and Noah opened the back door for Sarah. She smiled as she looked up at the sign. “An honest-to-goodness saloon?”
“Yeah, don't get excited,” Moose said. “They've got a bar, and they serve drinks, but it's the food that makes this place famous and popular. You'll see.”
Moose was right, as Noah concluded an hour later. The porterhouse he had eaten was probably the best he had ever tasted, and even the vegetables on the side—mashed potatoes, grilled onions, carrots and cauliflower, and corn on the cob—were incredibly good.
“Okay, we can officially add this to the list of my favorite places to eat,” he said, and Sarah nodded her head vigorously in agreement.
“I told you you'd love it,” Moose said. “I found it a couple months ago, and I've been here enough that most of the waitresses know me by name.”
Sarah dimpled at him. “Really? And you haven't gotten a date with one of them yet? I see a couple of them that looked to me like they would strike your fancy.”
Moose grinned back. “The platinum blonde,” he said. “She does light my fire. I asked her out a few nights ago, and she agreed, so I'm taking her to a movie on Friday.”
Sarah looked across the restaurant at the girl he was talking about, and nodded her head. The girl's hair was almost pure white, and while she was only about five-and-a-half feet tall, she was a round little dumpling. Sarah guessed that she probably tipped the scales at close to two hundred pounds, and wondered for the hundredth time what a guy as good-looking as Moose saw in a girl that big.
Not her business, though, she reminded herself. She smiled at him, and said, “Good for you. I hope it goes well.”
Moose shrugged. “Well, it's like you said about us not having any real relationships,” he said. “I probably wouldn't even have asked her out, but I happen to know that she's aware of what we do. Her dad works in admin, with the boss lady, and she recognized me one of the first couple times I was in here. She asked me if I was part of the ‘Ed and Eddie’ group in Kirtland, and when I did a double take, she grinned and told me about her dad. She said he worked in the procurement office, making sure we have all the special equipment we need. When I looked at her funny after that, she glanced around to make sure no one was looking, then made a gun of her fingers and used her thumb to show it firing. I'm pretty sure she knows what we do.”
Noah looked at the girl. “And does it strike anyone else as odd that she'd be working out here, if she knows? You'd think they'd want to keep her in house. I mean, how high a security clearance do you have to have just to know about us?”
Moose looked at him, his face uncertain. “You think maybe there's something fishy about this?”
Sarah barked a laugh. “Oh my gosh,” she said. “If you weren't so smitten with this girl, you'd have been asking yourself that question before now. Come on, Moose, think.”
Noah took out his phone and got to his feet. “Hang on just a minute, I'm going to go outside and check this out. Just wait here for me.”
He turned without another word and walked toward the door, then slipped through it and outside. He found a spot away from the building, where he was fairly sure he could be alone, then dialed Allison's number.
“It is seven thirty in the evening,” he heard her say as she answered. “If no one is dying, then you'd better have a very good reason for calling me.”
“It's good enough to make me risk it,” Noah said. “I'm out at The Sagebrush Saloon with Moose, and it turns out there's one of the waitresses out here that he likes. Thing that bothers me is that she seems to know an awful lot about our organization, and claims that her father works for you. Before I let him get mixed up with her, I want to be sure it's neither a problem nor a trap.”
Allison sighed. “Let me guess,” she said, “a chunky platinum blonde?”
“Yep, that's the one. Is there anything fishy about this?”
“There's not anything fishy about it,” Allison said, “but I can tell you that you just scored a brownie point for checking it out. That's Elaine Jefferson, and yes, her father works in my office. And the reason she knows so much about us is because she's actually one of our backup intelligence agents. She doesn't have the acting ability that would let her be on a permanent team, but she's as good with a computer as just about anyone we've got. She's okay. Anything else?”
“Nope. That covers it. Am I in trouble for bothering you?”
“Not this time,” Allison said. “I'll never fault you for making sure your teammates stay out of trouble. On the other hand, you might want to warn him that she's got a bit of a reputation as a heartbreaker.” The line went dead.
Noah went back inside and sat down again, then leaned over to speak softly. “The dragon lady says she's okay, and she's exactly what she seems to be, but she told me to warn you that you'll get your heart broken.”
Moose looked across the restaurant at the girl in question, then turned to look at Noah. “Won't be the last time, and sure isn't the first.” He turned to look back at her again, and Noah saw the girl toss a smile at Moose.
EIGHTEEN
Their briefing took place in Allison's meeting room. A projection screen had been pulled down at one end of the room, and a projector had descended out of the ceiling. A photograph of a tall, balding Hispanic man was being displayed.
“The man you see on the screen is Pablo Ortiz,” Allison said. “Ortiz has been a major player in moving a lot of contraband into the United States for the last several years, but it wasn't until he got involved in some recent activities that the NSA decided he needed to be removed from the equation. They sent me the file, and I have to agree with them. Ortiz is involved in transporting Islamic terrorist cells and operatives across the border near Ciudad Juárez, Mexico. He uses bribery, extortion, anything at all to find ways to get these people past the border. Some of them come across the river, some are driven straight across the bridge, and some of them have actually come into the country inside tanker trucks full of milk or vegetable oil. Imagine trying to stay afloat for several hours inside a closed tanker trailer, and you'll see just how serious these people are about getting into our country.”
She pressed a button on the remote in her hand, and a different image appeared. This was another man, also Hispanic, but in much better physical condition.
“This is Henrique Valdes. Henrique is probably Mexico's answer to the Terminator. As a soldier, he was one of the most formidable the Mexican army ever fielded, and upon his discharge, he went to work for their intelligence services. Unfortunately, being a good guy in Mexico doesn't pay as well as being a bad guy, so Ortiz was able to recruit him without a lot of trouble. Make no mistake, this is one of the most dangerous men you will ever encounter, anywhere. While Ortiz is the target, Henrique is going to be the biggest obstacle between you and him. You can take him out, if you get the chance, but he is not officially on the sanction.”
“Is there a reason to leave Valdes alive?” Noah asked.
Allison smiled. “It's possible that there is,” she said. “Henrique is actually a fairly reliable source of information for the DEA in that area. There are those who believe that he may succeed Ortiz, and could possibly become an even greater source of intelligence. If you can manage to take out Ortiz without killing Henrique, some agencies would see that as a blessing from heaven.”
She pressed another button, and a picture of a tavern appeared. “This is one of the places that Ortiz is known to frequent. That's probably because it's run by his nephew, so it makes it easy for him to have some kind of control over the place. Observers have seen that Eduardo defers to his uncle on just about anything, so it's quite possible that Ortiz is holding something over his head. This tavern is in an area that is not normally frequented by Americans, so you're going to look quite out of place there. I suspect you'll find a way to use that to your advantage.”
“Shouldn't be hard,” Noah said. “I'm thinki
ng a cover as a drug buyer? Make some deals while I'm there, buy up as much as I can?”
“That would definitely fit in, but be sure you read the whole file before you decide on a plan. Both of these men are very dangerous, and while Ortiz was once a major drug supplier, today his focus is on terrorism. He's been running illegal aliens into the country for years as a sideline, but now it's become more profitable than his drug businesses, because the illegals he's smuggling in now pay upwards of a hundred thousand each, to get themselves and their baggage into our country undetected.”
Noah sat forward. “What about the baggage? Are we talking weapons, bombs, what?”
“We're talking whatever kind of baggage they want to bring with them,” Allison replied. “On the other hand, Ortiz has been known to deal in weapons, lately. There are even rumors that he has connections for weapons with nuclear and biological potential, or at least the necessary components to produce them.”
Noah whistled. “Definitely not a good guy. Are there any instructions on how you want him taken out?”
Allison shook her head. “Noah, only the team leader can decide on the mission plan. I set this organization up that way on purpose, because it's just too easy for generals to sit back in the war room and throw away their soldiers like yesterday's newspaper. We don't do that, here. Instead, you will look the entire situation over, and devise your own plan for completing the mission. I want that plan submitted to me for approval, but it's very rare that I ever disapprove one.”
Moose spoke up. “You mentioned simulations,” he said. “Are we going to get the chance to run through some?”
Allison pushed another button, and another tavern appeared on the screen. This one didn't look quite as rough as the other, but its dimensions were approximately the same. “We've built a mockup of that part of Ciudad Juárez, an area of about six square blocks. It will let you get a feel for where buildings are, alleys, streets, etc. That way, you can get some idea of where cover might be available, hiding places and things like that.” She hit the button again, and suddenly they were looking at the interior of the tavern. “This is the interior of our mockup,” she went on. “It's been constructed from detailed photographs of the inside of the original, and everything's placed accordingly. You can practice moving around in this one, and then you’ll be able to move with confidence.”