undercovertrouble_341-1e1.htm

by Undercover Trouble (Wings) (lit)

  Mitch nodded, adding, "Give me a twenty-minute head start. That’ll put me in contact with the bastards and I can play it by ear." Mitch took Marion’s car keys and started to leave. As he got to the door, he turned. "I’m sorry it had to end up this way. Keep a stiff upper lip. Sometimes things turn out better than we think they will."

  "I just hope you can forgive..." Don’s voice trailed away in a choke.

  Through her tears over Don’s condition, Marion sobbed, "Hurry, Mitch!"

  ~ * ~

  Jen’s head hurt from the swat she’d received. The rough treatment from being forced into the van left her with numerous sore spots that would be bruises tomorrow--if she lived that long. Spooky’s wash of her face gave small comfort. She couldn’t see where they were going from her tied position on the van’s floor. The dust whirling around caused her to sneeze numerous times. Her dry mouth filled with grit.

  Once they reached their destination, Spike yanked her out of the van without giving her a chance to get her balance. She staggered and fell. Bull jerked her up and shoved her in front of him toward a large, boxy warehouse. "This’ll be your home for a spell. How long depends on how cooperative you are." Bull’s snarl lent little doubt to what was in store.

  Jen kept her mouth shut lest she invite another slap. Ghosts from the past brought visions of head cracks she’d received as a child. The sound of the wallops still echoed in her ears; she still felt the pain and dread. This time she’d protect herself no matter what. Her eyes skirted the area, but there was nobody in sight around the garbage-strewn yard. The other bleak buildings in the vicinity were deserted, giving her little expectation of rescue.

  Spike patted her shoulder. "We’re going to have a good time here, you’ll see. Why even your boyfriend will enjoy watching."

  Jen shrugged his hand off. He grinned wickedly at her as he unlocked the door. Again he pushed her, this time along a dark hallway to a large room, then beyond to an office. His final shove sent her reeling onto a closet floor. The door slammed behind her. She was suddenly alone. No Spooky. She heard a yelp, a low growl, then a myriad of excited barks that increased their frenzy and continued steadily. The door opened again and Spooky bounded in. The vicious slam stepped up the pulses crashing against her temples. She fought back the nausea.

  ~ * ~

  Mitch parked his motorcycle two buildings away and sneaked through the backyards. His gun drawn, he recognized Bull’s van nestled in close to the building that Don had singled out. Another Harley was parked beside it. He peeked inside to make sure Jen wasn’t still in the van.

  The doorknob turned easily and when he opened the door, he faced a long dark corridor. He left the door slightly ajar to illuminate the passageway and stepped softly forward. Two doors on opposite sides provided the only entrances to the main sections of the structure’s interior. The question was: in which section did they have her confined? Mitch braced against a chill that crept up from nowhere. He had to keep focused and not think what they might be doing to her. His grip on the revolver tightened.

  The stale air was oppressive with the sweet burning smell of marijuana combined with the musty odor of damp earth and vegetation. The closer he got to one of the doors, the stronger the odor. He listened, then slowly opened it. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was flabbergasted. A large room, brightly lit by special fluorescent lighting geared to simulate the sun, contained hundreds of healthy marijuana plants. The center of the room revealed the most sophisticated production assembly he’d ever seen. The place resembled a chemistry lab as modern as any at a university. One wall, with garage doors large enough for two trucks to enter, displayed the method of procurement and distribution. Against the far wall, stacks upon stacks of crates labeled with the name of the South American country of origin revealed the scale of the operation. He pried open one and found it loaded with bags of white powder, no doubt cocaine. Enough evidence existed in this room to send those involved away for a long time and perhaps break the back of the illegal drug trade. He backed out and turned toward the other door.

  Once again Mitch stuck his ear to the door. This time he could hear voices and laughter. The laughter sickened him. The door creaked when he inched it open. If he pursued this action further the sound would give him away. He could tell the voices were coming from the far end of the section. He stepped to the side to grab his breath and figure out his next move. He knew well that sometimes the best approach is the direct one, but it also could get him killed.

  ~ * ~

  Jen worked frantically in the dark to loosen her hands. By twisting her wrists, she was able to squirm out of the rope binding her. She jumped up, but upon hearing Bull and Spike talk in the office, she restrained her exuberance, fearful of letting them know she was untied. Aware of the tickle of soft hair at her ankles, she reached down and picked up the puppy. She felt her way around the closet, guided by light sifting through a small crack at the door. The shelves lining one wall held bike helmets and bike parts. The filing cabinet probably contained data on the club’s illegal activities. The only way out would take her through the thugs in the office. That wasn’t an option. She leaned against the wall by the door and listened.

  "Mitch sure ain’t gonna be pleased, Spike. I can’t get over that guy’s nerve. He’ll show up ragin’ tonight and we’ll be ready for him. I’m callin’ in more of the boys."

  "What about if he shows up with reinforcements?"

  "If he’s smart, he won’t. He’ll try to be a one-man army, knowing this bitch won’t stand a chance of coming’ out of any skirmish alive. I can hardly wait."

  "Can we have some fun with her now, Bull?"

  "Sure, why not?"

  Spike unlocked the door. His eyes popped when he saw Jen huddling at the back, the dog clasped tightly in her arms. "Got yourself free, huh? Get out here. We’ll show you how free you are."

  He tugged at her arm and when she leaned back, bracing her feet, he yanked with brutal force. "You, bastard," Jen yelled.

  "That’s no kind of language for a lady to use, don’t ya know? When we’re through here you’ll not be a lady so I guess it don’t matter. Now get out here into the light so we can have a real good look."

  Spooky snarled at the punk’s hold of his mistress. He reacted as any good guard dog would: he bit the attacker’s wrist.

  "Ow!" Spike groaned.

  Bull roared with laughter. "I knew I had to have that dog for a reason. He’ll keep you in line, Spike."

  Spike moved to cuff the pup, but Jen swung sideways and he missed. Spooky wiggled free, leaped to the floor and grabbed Spike’s ankle.

  Spike retaliated with a swift, hard kick that slammed Spooky into the corner. The pup whimpered and lay quiet.

  "Spooky?" Jen rushed to him and gently stroked his head. A weak lick of her hand gave her hope that he wasn’t hurt badly. Her fingertips quickly examined his body, and he didn’t flinch. Nothing appeared broken. Spike yanked her from the floor. She twisted and glared at him, hot tears in her eyes. "I wish I still had the gun. I’d let you have the dangerous end and never look back." Right now she knew she could kill. Was that how it had been at the shelter?

  "Well it doesn’t look like you’ll get your wish. Bet I could let you have a firing end." Spike shifted his hold on her. Then he saw the blood. "Bull, my wrist is bleeding’ and sore as hell. Maybe that damn dog has rabies."

  Bull laughed harder. "Don’t be such a candy-ass. You know, she shows real spunk. I think since you are mortally wounded, I might like a go at her first."

  "Aw, Bull, come off it. I been waiting for this since I went up on her porch."

  "You went on her porch? I told you to hang low and report back where she and Mitch were shacked up. What were you plannin’?"

  "Nothin’, Bull, I swear it. We just wanted to be sure we had the right woman."

  "I oughta whack you from here to kingdom come for doin’ that. You coulda blown my plan." Bull’s anger shouted danger as the cords in his neck stood o
ut with his rage. Spike backed to the wall, while Jen hunched tight to a corner. To her horror Bull turned toward her. There was no place to run, no hope of help, no chance she’d ever see Mitch again.

  "Get over here, bitch, and we’ll have some of that good time I told you about. For being so mouthy, you’re gonna have triple the fun." Bull grabbed Jen by the arm and dragged her to the desk.

  The office door swung wide and Mitch slammed in. Nostrils flared, eyes snapping sparks of fury, he leveled the gun at the two men. "Move. I dare you!"

  "Mitch! Thank God!" Jen lifted Spooky up and stood next to her rescuer.

  "Boss, I got doughnuts to go with--"

  The distraction of Pugsy returning with their takeout order gave Bull the opportunity to jump Mitch. He deftly sidestepped the hoodlum’s move and cracked a karate chop across his shoulder blades. As Bull hit the floor, stunned, Spike yanked out a gun and aimed it at Mitch. Mitch fired and Spike crashed over the desk, wounded in the shoulder; his gun landing near Mitch’s feet. Pugsy stood with his mouth open, still clinging to the cardboard tray of doughnuts and coffee. "Jeez, Boss, what’s goin’ on?"

  Spike held his shoulder and lowered himself to the floor. "Think you’re smart, don’t ya? Pugsy, you can take him."

  Sirens wailing in the distance abruptly got louder as police cars swarmed into the yard.

  "Try it, Pugsy." Mitch’s voice, firm and controlled, warned Pugsy.

  "No, sir. I ain’t lookin’ for no trouble when the cops are comin’. I’ll just stay here quiet-like."

  "Wise decision." Mitch leaned toward Spike. "Give it up, Spike, ‘less you want more of the same. Make one false move and you’re dead."

  Bull regained his senses and looked up. "Grab the gun and shoot ‘em, Spike, while you can. We’ll go out the side door." He tried to get up, but collapsed back on the floor. Spike reached for his gun but rethought the move when Mitch stepped on it. He looked into Mitch’s eyes and knew his chances were slim. "You tried to kill me. Look I’m bleeding all to hell." Blood oozed in a steady trail between his fingers spilling down his arm, mingling with the blood from Spooky’s bite. "I’m gonna sue you for police brutality."

  "You’re going away on drug and kidnapping charges, Spike, or else you’re leaving here in a body bag. Which’ll it be? Make the wrong decision and you won’t live to see the sunset from behind prison bars."

  "Christ, when you put it that way, you win." Spike yanked back his hand.

  With a disgusted sigh, Pugsy laid the drinks on the desk and helped both men to their feet. Mitch pulled Jen away from the door as two police officers and Inspector James burst in.

  "Good timing, Rick. How come you’re here? This isn’t what you usually do."

  "I was starting my investigation on Don when his wife called the station for backup. I like to keep my fingers in the pot once in a while. I had a vested interest in seeing you were okay."

  "Well, next time try for a few seconds earlier."

  "Yeah, right. We came as soon as we got notified what was going down."

  Mitch smiled. "Meet Jen Murray. She’s a bit shaken up right now and not usually this piqued." Spooky slurped on Mitch’s hand when he tickled behind the pup’s ear.

  Jen nodded. "Hi. Mitch really is a cop?"

  "And a very good one, ma’am. Just a little too overheated at times. Mitch, can you step over here a minute? I want to give you a bit of news, then you can decide what to do with it."

  "Okay," Mitch answered. "Be right back. And Jen?"

  "Yes?"

  "I knew help was on the way, but I had to shoot Spike anyway in self-defense. Remember that. It might make you feel better."

  A few minutes later he was back at Jen’s side. "That didn’t take long. I think the lady can use a cup of coffee, Rick. We’ll go down to the station and give our statements after we loosen up."

  "All right. See you there. By the way, Don did the right thing by having Marion notify us. It might help if you remember that, Mitch."

  "I know. Take care."

  ~ * ~

  Mitch and Jen crossed the street, happy to get away from the upheaval. As they approached, they noticed customers in the doughnut shop gawking through the windows at the commotion. From the safety of Jen’s arms, Spooky appeared as interested in the spectators viewing the excitement as with the police invasion. Jen stopped on the sidewalk. "I don’t think dogs are allowed in there, Mitch."

  Mitch opened the door and held it for her to enter underneath his arm. "Everyone here is more concerned with what’s going on behind us than with a small pet. If I flash my badge, I’m sure the staff will overlook him."

  "You’ve got it with you?"

  "I always have it with me on a bust. I had it hidden on the Harley. Let’s take a seat in the corner. We’ve got some talking to do."

  Jen’s hands shook at the table, and though Spooky curled in her lap, patting him didn’t calm her nerves. To keep herself busy, she pulled napkins from the chrome table dispenser and mopped up splatters and crumbs. She finished by spreading a napkin for each of them. Under Mitch’s keen scrutiny when he brought over two mugs of coffee and two glazed chocolate doughnuts, she wilted.

  "Drink this and give yourself a chance to relax."

  "Thanks." With his persistent inspection, Jen expected to be bombarded with questions. She had much to answer for, but she couldn’t cope with any belligerent questioning right now. To her surprise, Mitch remained silent. Her hands soaked up the heat from her tight clutch on the mug. Her tension eased slightly. The strong coffee aroma infused life into her blood, but she’d let Mitch take center stage. The play was over and the curtain about to lower. She focused her attention on the view out the window, pretending to watch cars pass toward the drive-thru. Ever conscious of his presence, she waited with trepidation.

  "How do you feel?" His voice was gentle, hedging, as though he were struggling to be non-invasive.

  "Shaky. I’ll get over it." She thought the restraint he showed was remarkable.

  He paused and his next question confused her. "Does it bother you that I’m a cop?"

  Why did he care if it did? She was only part of his present work. A mere means to an end. A successful end, it appeared. Good for him.

  "It’s better than having you mixed up in Bull’s activities. Why should it matter, Mitch, if I did mind you being with the police?"

  "You’ve had a lot of experience with the cops lately, given the shooting at the shelter and now me. I’m sure it hasn’t been pleasant for you."

  The tension mounted. "Your point being--?"

  "My point being that I’d like to know if, in retaliation, you were going to expose me to Bull?"

  His hardened tone surprised her; his question fired shock waves into her heart. She gasped. "You thought I was going to sell you out?"

  "I just want your answer." His cop persona had emerged.

  "Whatever made you think I would?"

  "Can’t you say, yes or no?"

  "Yes."

  "Yes, you were?" His eyebrow raised, his eyes flashed anger.

  "No, Mitch. ‘Yes’ to I-can-say. You really are obtuse. The answer is most definitely no."

  Mitch waited a moment, clearly weighing her words and their ramifications. "I forgot to get some sugar. I need as big a sugar fix as I can get. Be right back."

  While she waited for his return, she mulled over why he should think the worst of her--that she would snitch about who he was. The only one I was about to betray was Spooky. She rubbed the pup’s neck. He stirred from his nap long enough for a quick lick on her hand. Only Nightspook knew I was going to betray a friend... Aw, damn! She bit her lip hoping to distract herself from the thought that popped into her head. He can’t be. Still, he kept his computer hidden from me, and now that I think of it, Mitch called me Jen near the beginning of our relationship. That was the name I gave Nightspook. Everyone else calls me Jennifer. She swallowed a big mouthful of the brew. This was beyond belief. Nothing is as it seems. Well, at leas
t I can be honest.

  She flung her shoulders back and frowned. When Mitch returned, her steady voice belied her anxiety. "I was going to see Bull to pick up fake identification papers so I could leave and find work. I had told you that taking part in the activities of criminals makes you one, too. I guess that makes me a flaming hypocrite. You must think it’s a hoot for me to be so dumb. I can see now that you were using me for bait." Her fingers pressed harder against the ceramic mug. She stared him straight in the eye, dissecting his baffled expression, seeking truth.

  Mitch never flinched. "You weren’t dumb; you were desperate. Jen, I never suspected you were getting fake IDs. I should have figured out you’d try something like that, since I told you it was a gang specialty. Let me make it clear: I never used you for bait."

  "You weren’t tailing me?"

  "No."

  "Then how did you happen to rescue me?"

  "I had no idea where you’d gone ‘till I saw your car at the bar. I almost went out of my mind... I... It’s a long story and I’ll tell you some time."

  "Am I a criminal, too?"

  "You’re not a criminal. That’s the only thing I know for certain."

  "But the shooting--"

  "Screw the shooting. I think to put your mind at ease, we’re going to have to get to the bottom of it."

  "I don’t know how that’s possible. I can’t remember. What about the false documents?"

  "They were never produced. Bull was using you to get to me."

  Jen nibbled at her doughnut and swallowed another mouthful of hot drink. Mitch smiled for the first time, an odd glimmer in his eyes. He was more relaxed in contrast to the jagged nerves that kept her on edge. "I feel like I’m meeting you for the first time, Mitch. Is this the real you or some other persona you’ve concocted?"

  "There are many facets to me. You’ll have to learn to deal with each one. I’ll start with the friend one first. Did they hurt you in any way?"

  "I was roughed up and shaken. That’s all. Outside of that, I’m managing. Spooky looks okay, too, but I want him checked over by a vet."