He hoped the doctor understood English, because he wasn’t sure if he spoke fluent Spanish, and his head hurt too much to attempt it.
“How long have I been here? Where am I?”
“Ah, you speak English. Do you remember anything that happened to you? Your name, the circumstances in which you arrived here?”
He shook his head and searched the recesses of his mind to remember anything. But everything seemed to be jumbled—flashes of people, gunfire, a man.
“My name. I remember my name. Jaeger. But I don’t recall much of anything else.”
“Let me draw some blood and order some tests, and then we shall talk. I will tell you what I know, and as you heal, hopefully your memory will return. You have been asleep for a long time.”
Jaeger nodded, and the pain began to subside as a young nurse injected a small vial into his IV. He watched the liquid invade the solution, and he noticed his left wrist. He had a faint scar. He lifted his hand and spoke to the nurse.
“How did I get this scar? Was it already on my body when I arrived?” The mark appeared to be a broken sword, slightly raised but very faint—almost unnoticeable. Almost.
“The scar was already there when you arrived, Señor. I do not know how you received it.” The nurse smiled, and her face was bright and friendly. Her uniform was starched white and complete with cap. Assuming he was not in the United States, based on her dress, Jaeger once again asked her his location. The doctor spoke.
“You are in Spain, Señor Jaeger, on the coast—Cádiz Province. Fishermen found your body floating in the waters near the Rock, clinging to a piece of large bark. You practically bled out from your injuries and had a severe head wound, which would account for the memory loss. And you were dehydrated. They brought you here to our little clinic, a tourist paradise, so you were lucky to have been delivered here instead of one of the small fishing ports. We are very modern with the Alcadeisa Resort our neighbor.”
He removed the last vial of blood from the port in the IV line and handed it to the nurse. “You have been our star patient for six months, Señor.”
The sensor connected to Jaeger’s finger to read his vitals began to beep as his heart rate increased. Six months? How the fuck did he get there? He forced his memory… the woods, the man. Moriel did this to him. The broken sword scar that told him his fate. He might have lived, but Moriel hadn’t listened to his pleas to be reunited with his one. He was destined to live out his lifetime alone. Again. Although…. Jaeger tried to remember what words the wizard used. Didn’t the wizard say he would die and be reborn into another life? He was still in the same life, so was there still a chance? Hope? Was Moriel toying with him, only to snatch away any hope Jaeger had?
“Please. You need to calm down. You have had a shock and only just woken up. Things will come back to you in their due time. For now, rest and let me run the tests. I will be back this afternoon, and we will talk. Let the nurse give you something to eat.”
“Do you have a laptop I can use? Please. It may help me with my memory.” Jaeger would beg if he had to, or he would leave the hospital of his own accord. He needed answers.
“I will have one brought in for you, but you must stay in bed and rest while you search. And the first sign I feel you are under duress, I remove it. Agreed?”
“Thank you, doctor.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE INTERNET access in the seaside town was surprisingly modern, but Jaeger supposed that was to be expected if the area was a tourist haven. Once the nurse logged him onto the device, he scoured the newspaper archives for any information concerning the Rincón trial and the star witness, Wren O’Riley. He also checked the obituaries for any information about Chino.
He found a headline. Juan Rincón Guilty, Will Serve Life in Federal Prison. Jaeger clicked on the article, dated one month earlier. That meant the trial, if it started on time, took approximately five months to complete.
Juan Rincón, infamous Mexican cartel leader, has been found guilty on all charges—racketeering, prostitution, weapons smuggling, drugs, and murder—in total, one hundred and twenty-one counts. Facing life in prison with no chance of parole, Rincón appeared sullen and older as Judge Herman handed down the sentence. Not surprisingly, the jury took only two days to bring back the guilty verdict.
Witness after witness testified—men and women who cut deals with the United States government in exchange for their testimony. Some obtained reduced sentences to be served in federal prisons, some only eluded the death penalty, and others are now protected witnesses.
The most shocking testimony was that of Wren O’Riley, nephew of the cartel kingpin, whose mother is Rincón’s sister. O’Riley turned state’s evidence early on and was under the protection of the United States Marshal Service prior to the trial.
O’Riley, a computer whiz, kept the books for the family, and testified to seeing his uncle, Juan Rincón, shoot a rival cartel leader, Jesus Chino, in cold blood.
The second article discussed Wren.
From Computer Whiz to Whistle Blower to Where Is He Now
Wren O’Riley—son of Graciela Rincón and Seamus O’Riley, nephew of famous Mexican kingpin Juan Rincón, testified in court against his uncle and the family. Self-proclaimed computer wizard O’Riley discovered anomalies in the ledgers of the family business. When he became suspicious, O’Riley had the foresight to “mark” his documents, which provided a valuable asset to the United States government in building a case against Rincón. From prostitution rings to drug operations, the Rincón Family had influence around the world.
Sequestered under the protection of the United Stated Marshal Service, O’Riley spent one month in hiding before he testified against his uncle. O’Riley claimed that the marshal who protected him gave his life to do so.
Additionally, O’Riley had ties to another infamous family, led by Jesus Chino and witnessed the murder of Jesus Chino by Juan Rincón. It would seem a love affair between Chino’s son and O’Riley precipitated the murder.
Although the Marshal Service will not comment, Mr. O’Riley is presumed to have entered the witness protection program. Jaeger continued to scan through the many online accounts. A sense of peace surrounded him once he knew that Wren made it out of the Adirondacks alive and lived to testify and help place a very dangerous man behind bars. Jaeger looked for articles concerning Javier Chino, but exhaustion soon took over, and quite frankly, he didn’t give a fuck—the man was dead. What he did want to know, though, was what occurred with SAC Denver Chase. After he napped.
“Señor Jaeger.” The doctor entered the room and woke Jaeger from his slumber. Cheery and carrying a small tablet, the doctor approached the bed. “All of your bloodwork is fine, and I firmly believe the more awake you are, the more your memory will return. The injuries you sustained before arriving here have healed many months ago. We simply needed you to wake up and join the world again.”
Another nurse entered and silently disconnected the heart monitor and pulse oximeter.
“I would like you to finish the IV before it is discontinued and then have you stay another two days or so before I discharge you. I will assume arrangements need to be made for a place to stay?”
“I have money. I have a bank account with money.” Jaeger had always been a suspicious man and squirreled away much of his money in a separate account under a different name. Always be prepared—a motto he lived by and with the ease of online banking, he could transfer his funds to any establishment in the world.
“I remember everything, doctor. I think I may have been fuzzier than anything else. I want to get out of here as soon as possible. I have someone to find.” Jaeger didn’t want to go against the doctor’s orders, but the quicker he got out of the hospital, the faster he could find out what happened to Wren and even Chase. Although he wasn’t sure how he’d accomplish either. He assumed the marshal service thought him dead. Maybe it was better to let sleeping dogs lie.
“Let’s get you up after
a nap and see how you do. While you slept, the nurses provided physical therapy to your limbs, so there will be no atrophy. With a little assistance, I believe you’ll be on your way very soon. Good? Good.”
The doctor left little room for argument, and what would two more days hurt anyway? It would allow Jaeger time to think about the next course of action and time to get in touch with his bank and have his life savings wired to a bank in Spain. The seaside resort might just be Jaeger’s new home.
A nap and a walk along the clinic grounds did wonders for Jaeger’s disposition and stamina. The sun shone brightly and warmed Jaeger’s face. He could smell the ocean and almost feel the salt spray upon his skin.
Initially he took a stroll with the nurse, but his balance was sound, and the young lady allowed him to explore on his own, as long as he promised not to tire himself out. The first thing he needed to do was secure a place to live. Maybe a small bungalow along the beach? He’d ask one of the nurses or the doctor when he returned to his room.
Pleased with his progress, the doctor discharged him, and Jaeger checked into a local tourist motel—temporarily. He discovered the doctor rented small bungalows as a side business. He offered to sell one to Jaeger at a steal, and the place would be ready in two weeks. In the meantime he stayed in a motel and arranged his other affairs. First he purchased his own laptop. He needed to be able to access his accounts, investigate what had happened to Chase, and even look for word on himself.
Jaeger was at a loss for how he came to be on the coast of Spain and still with the scar, albeit faint, on his wrist. He was living the same life, and by all indications, he should have died and been reborn into another. What had the wizard done to him? And more importantly why did he remember the wizard? That had never occurred before. With each passing life, his memory had been erased to start again, and the scar always remained, raging and raised.
Bare feet up on the rail of the motel balcony, Jaeger clicked away on the laptop. Accounts closed and transferred, all his money was securely placed in a new account in the Cadiz Province.
He got in through a back door of the Marshal Service computer system and was able to surmise that the agency assumed he’d met his demise—or at least that was the official report. Hailed a hero and given a proper military burial, Jaeger was laid to rest with his adopted parents in his hometown. No body had been recovered, and the agency assumed he went up in flames when the safe house exploded.
He erased his steps, closed out the back door, and searched more thoroughly for information on Denver Chase. On the back page of a newspaper, one month after the trial began, Jaeger found it.
US Marshal Dies in Fiery Crash
Special Agent in Charge Denver Chase, of the US Marshal Service, died this morning in a lone car crash along the George Washington Memorial Highway. Chase had been implicated in connection with the Chino Family of Mexico—the largest drug gang in northern Mexico. Temporarily suspended from his duties pending further investigation, Chase was alone in the vehicle when he crashed and died on the scene. He leaves a wife and two teenage children.
Further investigation of the crash will follow in the weeks to come.
Denver Chase was dead. His longtime friend and coworker died, mostly likely by his own hand, instead of facing the truth like a man. He took the coward’s way out. Maybe it was for the best. Chase would have never survived in the prison system as an informant and a disgraced federal employee.
Jaeger decided he needed to do one more thing before bed—one last search for Wren O’Riley. Two hours of painstakingly searching and finally Jaeger found what he was looking for… or what he had hoped to not discover. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Tears formed and silently fell as he read the words on the screen with disbelief. He trailed his fingers across the screen and carefully read and absorbed each word. Hadn’t the previous report stated that Wren would live a happy life? That he’d entered WITSEC? How could it be?
Moriel had cursed him again. Now he understood why he remembered his fate and a faint scar remained. Instead of delivering him to another lifetime of forgetfulness, Moriel cursed Jaeger to spend his days alone, knowing his one was in his reach and he let him go… to meet his death.
Wren was dead—killed on the way to his new life, along with two agents. He never made it to safety. The bodies of the agents and Wren were recovered along the highway. Their tire had blown, and the car overturned in a ditch. The newspaper went on to say that the police reported foul play. A bullet hole was found in the front, driver’s-side tire, and the brake lines had been cut just enough for a slow leak of fluid. Wren and the driver were killed on impact. The other agent died later at the hospital. No other details were given to indicate where Wren O’Riley was buried or who claimed the body.
Jaeger closed the laptop and settled into a fitful night with very little sleep.
The rising sun illuminated his room. Exhausted from lack of sleep and painful news, Jaeger set about his morning routine. Since he was on the mend, he’d taken to jogging along the beach—three miles down and three back to build strength into his body. Not sure what was in store for him, Jaeger would take one day at a time.
What was a former US Marshal to do, especially when everyone thought him dead? He had no family to speak of, and what few friends he had, acquaintances really, were part of the agency. The only real person Jaeger cared for had been ripped from his life, and he had only himself to blame.
“Damn you, Moriel,” Jaeger cursed. “Why didn’t you leave me to die in the woods? Anything would be better than this.” Jaeger ripped open the motel room door and stepped out in the sunshine.
Setting a nice even pace, Jaeger punished his still-healing body and his mind. He’d be glad when he could take his permanent residence in the bungalow he’d procured.
He kept returning to the article about Wren’s death. The author gave no details about who claimed the body. Even if Graciela Rincón was in hiding, someone surely would have claimed his body on her behalf. Unless….
Unless the car accident was a setup and they were not killed—Wren or the agents. It wouldn’t be beyond the agency to fake the deaths of witnesses who sought asylum in order to safely deliver them to their new life.
“Fuck. He’s still alive.” Jaeger spoke to no one in particular. But he needed to say the statement aloud in order to make it real. “Now I need to find Graciela Rincón.”
In one of the many conversations Jaeger had with Wren, he stated his mother was safe in Spain. Wren never mentioned if she’d changed her name, just that she was safe. It dawned on Jaeger why and how he’d ended up in Spain. The wizard. For whatever reason Moriel had bestowed upon him another chance to right his wrongs.
“Motherfucker, Graciela is here somewhere, in Spain. What are the chances of all three of us being in the same country? Maybe it’s not too late after all.”
Tearing up the sand for the last mile, Jaeger reentered his room without bothering to remove his sweaty clothes. He opened the laptop and immediately did a search for Graciela Rincón, starting in Madrid and working his way through the major Spanish cities. No luck.
“I will not give up. She has to be here, and if she is… I just have to convince her to tell me where Wren is.”
Every search Jaeger entered proved futile and ineffective. He could find no listing for Graciela Rincón in any major city. Jaeger expanded his search to coastal tourist towns, carefully checking deeds, rentals, and anything that would point him in the right direction. He tried to remember other details about Wren’s mother but continued to come up blank.
Wren loved to cook—a skill he learned at his mother’s knee. What would the odds be that Graciela opened a restaurant or café? And maybe under her married name, Graciela O’Riley? Jaeger had been looking in all the wrong places.
The sweat stuck to Jaeger’s body after his run, so he decided to shower and grab a bite to eat. Then he’d begin his search anew.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
FRESH FROM a shower an
d ready to hit a local café, Jaeger slid the laptop into his messenger bag and headed out the door. His cell phone buzzed, and he noticed the name—Hernán Fuentes—his doctor, new friend, and the source of his new residence. Jaeger answered the phone, hoisted the bag on his right shoulder, and secured it with the cell against his ear.
“Hernán, good to hear from you. I’m just heading over to Manuelo’s to grab a bite to eat. Good news for me? ¿Quieres comer conmigo?” Jaeger was boning up on his Español. When in Spain, do as the Spaniards.
“Si, amigo. I will join you. I also have the final paperwork for the bungalow to sign, and then we can file it in the courthouse this afternoon and go to the bank, if it suits you.”
Jaeger smiled. Finally, a place to call his own. Hope renewed his heart and soul, and he was more determined than ever to find Wren and tell him exactly how he felt about him.
“I’ll see you in ten, then. If you get there first, order me a cerveza, por favor.”
Light on his feet, Jaeger made the short trek to Manuelo’s, one of the beachfront cafés that sold authentic Spanish and Italian cuisine and ice-cold beer. They also had Internet, which added to its tourist appeal.
The café was still fairly empty. Just a few of the locals were there. Many people still lay on the beach, taking in the sun. Soon the place would be busting at the seams, and all tables, both inside and out, would be filled to capacity and beyond.
Jaeger arrived first, situated himself in a small, round table for two in the back and lifted a finger to indicate he’d like a longneck. The chirpy twentysomething waitress delivered it with a smile. He ordered two bowls of gazpacho, chorizo, and bread and then removed the laptop from the bag and logged on.
He immediately clicked on a search engine and hunted for anything under the name Graciela O’Riley in cities and tourist areas. A few hits came up, but when Jaeger clicked on the websites, they were all wrong.
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