by Lynn Emery
“Sure you don’t want to check in with Chase before…”
“You’ve been texting him updates on me, right?” LaShaun raised an eyebrow at her friend.
“No. Well emails. Only two. Just to say you were okay. I’m not telling him you’re going into rugged Mexico where vicious drug lords rule. Oh hell no,” MJ said with force. “I’m leaving that bit of news for you to break.”
“Chicken. Besides, the way we left it a few hours ago I doubt he gives a damn.” LaShaun winced at the hurt from hearing a hard truth spoken aloud.
“I don’t believe that, and neither do you.”
“You weren’t there. He blames me, MJ. I’m not sure I can forgive him for the things he said.” LaShaun hitched the carry-on bag over her shoulder.
MJ bit her lower lip. “Damn, I’ve seen this kind of thing before. Families break up under the stress of a crime investigation. I can’t stand the thought of you becoming a statistic.”
“It’s on Chase as far as I’m concerned. I didn’t turn on him. Guess he’s been listening to his mother more than I thought.” LaShaun grimaced as she recalled the vitriol Mrs. Broussard spewed in her direction.
“No way. He’s too much his own man,” MJ said promptly.
“Family bonds and blood run deep, girl. We both know it.” LaShaun sighed and turned to MJ. “Look, I can’t say I hold it against Chase. She’s his mother for God’s sake. Of course being on the outs with her is tough. Puts a strain on the whole Broussard family, ‘cause they were tight-knit before me.”
“Don’t beat yourself up with guilt about them or Ellie,” MJ said, her voice strained with quiet force.
“I know for damn sure I didn’t cause those…” LaShaun swallowed the curse word that almost came out of her mouth. “No worries. I’ve had time to process everything, so I don’t blame myself. They want Ellie because of her inherited abilities. I’m no mistake, and neither is my child. If Chase thinks so, then he can get the hell out of our lives.”
“Chase isn’t going anywhere, and not just because of Ellie. I mean, please. Get serious.” MJ frowned behind the sunglasses. “He’s never been happier than the past four years since he met and married you, and y’all had Ellie. He told me his world was complete with you. Not his mother, or even the rest of the Broussard clan, but you and Ellie.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll say it again. You didn’t hear him, see the look in his eyes. Not just last night after Ellie was snatched. I think his second thoughts about me have been simmering for a while. I was just too dizzy with happiness, playing house mommy and wife, to see it.”
“LaShaun, I think you’re taking it way too far,” MJ replied. She put a hand on LaShaun’s shoulder then withdrew it.
“I can’t worry about Chase’s feelings about me or my family background right now, MJ. Ellie comes first. I have to stop whatever they have in mind for her and for those other children.” LaShaun shivered thinking about the unspeakable possibilities.
“I know but—”
“If you really want to help, tell me what you know about the Brownsville connection,” LaShaun broke in to head off more well-intentioned advice.
MJ sighed. “Okay. Well, we’ve got reason to think the Menards have moved up in the criminal world. There’s a gang operating in Tamaulipas calling themselves El Duro. They’re connected to the Chapo Cartel. Seems some members of El Duro gang have paid a visit to Lafayette. Dylan, his two brothers and a cousin entered a business relationship with a couple of them.”
“Dirty birds of a feather,” LaShaun said, quoting her late grandmother.
“For sure. Thugs coming together to form a Drugs-R-Us chain of stores with the occasional illegal gun running thrown in. Some of these folks specialize in stealing weapons from military bases.” MJ lowered her voice as she spoke.
“Which makes them even more dangerous. Chase once told me about the problem of the Army alone missing inventory.” LaShaun looked at MJ.
“Yeah. Anyway, the worst part is their growing business in human trafficking.” MJ passed a hand over her forehead. “I hate the ways people find to destroy others.”
“We’ll stop them, MJ.” LaShaun had to believe the words or she’d fall apart. “I figure Chase told at least you about the Legion compound.”
MJ nodded. “I had my guys check it out. The company has been around for a while. They manufacture cheap clothes shipped to the US to discount stores and a few boutiques. Been in Mexico for a good fifteen years, called Sierra Apparel C.V. They’ve got housing for some of the workers, improved the infrastructure in some little towns nearby. Making lots of friends with local politicians as you can imagine. Seems like a legitimate business. No ties to the cartel or El Duro.” MJ frowned at her. “So why the interest?”
“Some friends of mine thought maybe it could be a cover for illegal activity,” LaShaun said.
She had a flash of insight so sharp she could mentally see Chase talking to MJ. He hadn’t told her about Legion. Yet MJ’s sharp law enforcer instinct couldn’t’ be fooled. She glanced around, moved closer to LaShaun, and peered over her dark sunglasses.
“Oh yeah? I’m guessing the compound is connected to supernatural badassery,” MJ whispered.
LaShaun laughed out loud, causing a few people in line to glance at them. “I needed some comic relief, girl. Thanks for coming through.”
MJ grinned at her. “So I’m right. Chase knows that stuff freaks me out, but I could tell he left something out. Serial killers, drug dealing thugs, robbers I can handle. But spirits and demons? Uh-uh, give me human crooks any day of the week.” She shook her shoulders.
“C’mon. You’d totally kick butt as a ghostbuster,” LaShaun wisecracked.
“No ma’am. Old fashion crime busting is good enough for me.” MJ’s smile faded. “You think they have Ellie?”
“And other kids. Seven to be exact but not confirmed.” LaShaun blinked to stave off tears that threatened spill down her cheeks.
“You’re not going it alone. Chase told me about Miss Rose and the Dupart twins, your psychic sweet tea ladies.” MJ looked around to make sure no one paid too close attention to them.
“See, that’s why you’re Sheriff Dave’s HBIC. You got brains.” LaShaun sidestepped giving MJ too many details.
“Okay, give me deniability. I can honestly tell our boss you didn’t tell me everything.” MJ gave a grunt. Then she frowned at LaShaun. “Hey wait a minute. HBIC?”
“Head Badass In Charge,” LaShaun quipped and gave her a wink. She nodded toward the ticket counter. “My turn.”
“Be careful. Text me if you need advice or to talk. And for God’s sake, keep me updated.” MJ gave LaShaun a hug.
After a solemn promise to let MJ know what was happening, LaShaun boarded the plane. The flight took her to Dallas for a connection. LaShaun read the TEA intel files on her Android tablet. By the time she arrived at the airport in Brownsville, LaShaun could quote pages from memory. She walked to the entrance marked for ground transportation as instructed. She recognized the woman walking toward her as one member of the TEA team. Shoulder length dark hair swept back from her round face. She wore a blue sweater over a tan cotton peasant-style blouse, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. LaShaun estimated the heels gave the young woman a few inches, but in socks, she probably stood just under five foot three.
“Hello, Mrs. Broussard. I’m Valentina Valenznuela. Call me Val. This way, if you please.” Val reached out to carry her bag then smiled when LaShaun refused. “I hope your flight was smooth.”
“Fine. Let’s get started,” LaShaun said. Then she took a breath in and let it out. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”
Val led her to a white Chevy S-10 truck. She clicked open the locks using a remote and then faced LaShaun. “Understandable. Your child is missing. We’re going to get her back.”
LaShaun felt at least a measure of the tension in every muscle release. Val’s expression of determination made the slender short woman look formidable. Not interested in t
he landscape just yet, LaShaun spent the ride to TEA’s local office reading the files. Miss Rose and Pauline had sent over more information. They arrived on Naranjo Boulevard fifteen minutes later. A business with a red and black sign that read Tech Innovation, LLC blended in with other nondescript gray and brown break buildings in the area. Val led her through the lobby. A couple of young people spoke to customers. They took no notice as Val directed LaShaun through a set of swinging double doors. They passed through a room with computers, some taken apart.
“We make and sell affordable computers, but we also recycle them. We’ve set up computer stations at ten community centers, including four just across the border.”
Val gestured to the equipment and parts spread on large tables as they walked through another room. A tall man with red hair waved at them then went back to working.
“That’s nice,” LaShaun murmured.
“We can’t exist on charitable gifts alone. Though we do have a few generous donors. We have multiple streams of income,” Val said as they arrived at a door with a keypad next to it.
“I didn’t realize.”
“Well, we can’t host a fundraiser to fight demons, can we?” Val smiled at her. Then she entered a series of codes with light taps. Beeps sounded between at least four sequences.
“Impressive security.” LaShaun walked ahead of her when the heavy steel door swung inward.
“Less likely for anyone to crack it, unlike a simple four, five, or even six number cipher. This is the nerve center, as I like to call it.”
Despite the name, the offices did not buzz with noise. In fact, anyone entering would take the place as just another busy office. The people, dressed in business casual style, looked like any ordinary employees. They could have been selling office products or answering customer service.
“This way. The team is waiting in the conference room.”
LaShaun blinked when they entered to find more people around a round table. Pastries and coffee sat on another table in one corner. A fifty-inch television mounted on the wall was hooked up to video conference equipment and a computer tower.
“Mrs. Broussard—”
“LaShaun, please.” LaShaun nodded to the people in the room. A chorus of “hellos” greeted her.
Val swept a hand around the room as she introduced them. “LaShaun, this is Ernesto Gonzalez, Abril Brown, Jennifer Evans, and Carla Cuevas. We call her Cee-Cee.”
“For obvious reasons,” Cee-Cee joked with a wide smile. She crossed the room.
“Nice to meet you all, though…” LaShaun shared a brief handshake with her.
“Yes, the reason we’re getting acquainted is anything but,” Cee-Cee said. Without asking, she poured coffee into a mug for LaShaun and put it on the table in front of an empty chair.
“Thanks.” LaShaun sat.
“Here’s what we know. Sierra Apparel C.V. is legit on the face of it. In fact, the town officials love them. They pay decent wages, have paid for paved streets, and even helped finance a water treatment plant.” Ernesto tapped a wireless keyboard as he talked. An image popped up on the big screen television. “Here’s one of their commercials. A very laudable, and it seems, profitable outfit.”
“Helping the local economy, treats the employees with respect, like family,” Jennifer added in a dry tone.
“And yet…” LaShaun frowned at the innocent looking attractive building that Legion showed to the public.
Val studied the image under discussion. “We suspect they’re working with drug gangs to finance their efforts. So they accomplish two goals: spread chaos via drugs and illegal guns to thugs and the profits are used to fund their war against The Creator.”
The woman named Jennifer rose and walked to the wide screen. “This might be their plant, but we know of at least two other locations. Outposts if you will.”
“Taking them farther from the scrutiny of border patrol and other law enforcement into the more uncontrolled and lawless areas of Mexico,” Cee-Cee added. The other young team members nodded.
“Legion is working with blood-thirsty gangs, no surprise there,” LaShaun said.
“Yes, one of several unholy alliances,” Ernesto replied. “Literally. Of course the gangs don’t care about religion or philosophy even. They just want money and power.” He sat straight when the conference door opened.
“So where do we start?” LaShaun’s entire body shook with the need to take action.
An older man, tall with iron gray hair and a mustache, came in. He had the look of a retired military officer, lean and strong despite his age. Another man with brown hair mixed with gray followed him and quietly shut the door. He carried a leather messenger bag and seemed more of a business CEO type. LaShaun felt the atmosphere contract with increased tension. She studied the two men, both dressed in casual clothes like the younger team, but with an air of authority. The second man spoke first.
“Zachary Desmond, Mrs. Rousselle-Broussard. Honored to meet you. I’m a member of the High Protectorate Council. My job as Secretary General is to implement field operations, determine strategy based on data.”
“Frank Miles here. Glad you could come,” the tall man said, though his impassive expression didn’t indicate he was happy to see LaShaun.
She shook both their hands in turn, giving her more information. Both gazed at her. Of course. They knew she’d pick up on their auras. “Hello.”
“To answer your question, we should gather more information. Legion, and its Juridicus chapter if you will, are tough to crack. Their members are extremely cautious. We’ve been quite successful in thwarting several of their plans. One with your help I believe.” Zachary Desmond dipped his head to her with a slight smile that vanished into a grave expression again.
“My recommendation to the full council,” Frank Miles broke in with a sharp look at Desmond, “is that we use the intel we have and initiate a foray into the main compound. We have solid evidence the missing children are there.”
“Except we don’t know for sure, Frank. If history is any indication, the latest recruits have been moved to a more isolated location for training,” Zachary said. He lifted his chin and didn’t look at Miles.
“We’ve done enough studying, research, and talking about strategy. Groups like Juridicus are spreading like fire ants while we have committee meetings,” Frank shot back. The heat in his tone matched the jut of his square jaw.
“I don’t think we can go blundering around blindly, Frank.”
“You gotta be joking. Look around at the tools we have; the data we’ve gathered for decades. Decades, Zachary. Geez, your faction would have us sitting on our hands while Legion increases its influence. We’re letting them get too far ahead. They’ll outgun and out-pace us at this rate.”
“Are you suggesting that we can’t triumph over evil forces? I didn’t realize your faith had faltered so much,” Zachary retorted.
“My faith is strong, but faith without works is dead. Don’t question me.” Frank tightened one hand into a fist as he glared at Zachary.
“Enough,” a deep voice boomed from the speakers set up.
LaShaun started as she spun to look at the television. A distinguished looking man with ebony skin in a dark suit and tie had spoken. Bald, he had gray eyebrows and a neat goatee. Beside him sat an older woman, the lines of her porcelain face giving her an air of wisdom. She wore a crisp white shirt beneath a navy jacket and a gold and silver brooch on one shoulder. Her deep auburn hair, obviously colored, made her look like a former supermodel. Her thin lips pressed together in a look of disapproval.
“This isn’t the time or place for squabbling. Not to mention it’s undignified,” she sniffed. Her upper-class British accent made the admonishment sound even more severe.
“President Truman, General Churchill-Soames.” Zachary snapped to attention like a soldier in front of his military superiors.
Frank remained relaxed, but his expression melded from a scowl into one of respect. He nodded to them
. “Mr. President, General.”
“The High Cabinet met overnight to discuss recommendations from both your teams as presented by your leaders. We agree that careful strategy is the right defense since Legion has become more and more sophisticated.” President Truman frowned, but not at them. He seemed to be looking into the distance at their future battles.
“Hold on one damn minute,” LaShaun broke in. She walked over and faced the television screen, hands on her hips. “I don’t give a crap about your internal politics or struggles for power. My child is at risk. So you best believe I’ll be taking action with or without your strategies. I’m sure as hell not waiting around for more committee meetings. I’ll recruit my own team if you won’t let these people help.”
“Oh, we’ll help,” Cee-Cee said with force and stood. Her declaration earned her a grimace from Secretary General Desmond. She cleared her throat, but tossed him a defiant glance before she looked away.
President Truman pursed his lips and waited before he replied. “May I continue?”
“Umm, yes sir,” Cee-Cee replied, her tone softer.
“Frank is right, Zachary.” President Truman raised a palm when Desmond’s mouth flew open. “We can’t justify leaving lives at imminent risk.”
“Most importantly children’s lives,” General Churchill-Soames clipped.
“Yes, making them even more defenseless.” President Truman’s thick brows pulled together.
“Sir, Mr. President, Madame General, with all due respect, we have data that shows the new recruits are not powerless,” Zachary said.
LaShaun whirled around to confront him. “Stop calling them ‘recruits’ like they signed up for duty in Satan’s army. They’re kidnap victims, vulnerable children at risk for exploitation and great harm as the president said.”
“Poor choice of words given you haven’t been part of earlier discussions,” Zach said, though his expression didn’t quite succeed in being apologetic.
“What’s he talking about?” LaShaun said, looking to TEA’s local team.