by Taylor Lee
Jax allowed the rest of the men their appreciative laughter at their outrageous banter and then broke in. “As you can see, I have my work cut out for me. Any of you agents who thought that being a police chief was an easy job compared to our Special Ops missions didn’t have to deal with these two.” Pinning an amused gaze on Mick and Viviana, he said dryly, “Let’s just say that commanding them, particularly one of them, is a full-time job. Fortunately, Commander Bannon is my wingman and, as I’m sure he will tell you, he’d take chasing hajis any day rather than try to corral the infamous Enchantress.”
Greg raised his hands to acknowledge Jax’s salute but quickly qualified, “You’re right, Jax. At least with our terrorist prey we had a fighting chance of knowing what to expect.” Pinning a frown on Viviana, he said wryly, “What I’ve learned the hard way as the VCU commander is the only thing I can expect is the unexpected.”
Seeing Viviana’s expression harden at Greg’s implied criticism, Jax stepped in and moved to the subject at hand. Leaning forward in his chair, he breathed an audible sigh. Meeting each of their gazes except for Viviana’s, who was pointedly staring at her hands, he said, “I don’t have to tell any of you why I’ve convened this team. You are all aware of the challenge we face. Just know that every one of you is an integral part of this operation, and success is going to require that we all operate at the highest professional level possible.”
Rising to his feet, he reached for the remote on the corner of the table. Striding toward the bank of monitors on the wall, he brought them to life. Pointing to the statistics on the central screen, he said, “All of you are aware we are dealing with some serious shit in the drug running arena. For those of you on the federal level, the fentanyl scourge is old news. The growing number of overdose deaths involving fentanyl has risen dramatically in the last couple of years. For us here in San Jose, it is a relatively new threat. I don’t have to tell any of you that fentanyl is fifty to one hundred times more potent than morphine. What we’re seeing is an increasing number of overdose deaths attributable to fentanyl combined with other drugs. The most common are cocaine and heroin, ketamine, and methamphetamine. We’re also seeing it in counterfeit prescription sedatives—like Xanax—and pain relievers purchased on the street.”
Jax focused on the national agents. “You guys are familiar with the national and international statistics. What you may not be aware of is what’s happening here in our supposedly unassuming burg. As you know, San Jose is part of a drug and human trafficking route that runs from Columbia and Mexico to the Canadian border. In addition, a couple of local street gangs are hard at work, determined to capture and rule that lucrative market. The result is the beginning of a gang war that will only be more and more virulent until one or the other triumphs.”
Glancing at Viviana, Mick, and Greg, he said, “Fortunately, we have a crack team on board that is more than capable of meeting the challenge. But it would be foolhardy to think that any local jurisdiction, no matter how adept, can contain the certain violence to come and the repercussions on the national and international arenas.” Including the federal agents in his stern gaze, he said, “That’s where you men come in and the impetus for this multilevel team of hotshots I’m convening.”
Mick shot up his hand. “Damn, Chief, I don’t want to make these highfliers think we’re—make that me—as hot as you implied. But I gotta ask why would the dopeslangers try to kill off their geek monsters with horse shit crank? I don’t get it. I’d think that the fuckin’ anarchopharmasists are savvier than that.”
Viviana answered before Jax could. “They’re not selling it to their customers, Mick. They’re using it to threaten their competition. Adding a little China White or TNT to a rival gang’s shipment can turn off a hell of a lot of customers in addition to killing more than a few dozen of them. Trust me that word would spread like wildfire. It could cause a mass migration of dopemongers to look elsewhere for product that isn’t laced with lethal Tango.”
Jax nodding approvingly and said to the Feds, “Now you see why I have confidence in the home team.” To Viviana, Jax said, “You have the best street sources of anyone at the table, Sergeant Moreau. You’re a literal encyclopedia when it comes to inside information about the local gangs. Your CIs couldn’t be better placed, and you have managed them skillfully in the past. The challenge now is for us to capitalize on your entry points. Then we need to figure out a way to use them to break through what is the tipping point in a national and international curse that is about to sweep this community.”
Chapter 2
In the discussion that followed, Jax kept a surreptitious eye on Viviana. He was gratified to see her share her insights and come to attention when he mentioned her CIs. This was his first attempt to drive home the point that Viviana was now part of a high-level team. He knew damn well that this mission was going to challenge her. It was his line in the sand declaring that her days of flying solo were over. He also knew if anything could threaten her “Lone Ranger” MO, it was if anyone, including him, moved in on her CIs. Which was why he’d purposefully alluded to them. Seeing her frown when each of the federal agents took the spotlight and confirmed that San Jose was part of a much larger issue that had the potential to dwarf what they were seeing locally, he hoped that she understood the necessity of cooperation. But he didn’t kid himself. Greg Bannon’s raised brow as Jax laid out the blueprint for their cooperative effort confirmed that Viviana’s would-be commander knew how incendiary his orders were. Her partner also raised a questioning brow.
As challenging as it was sure to be, Jax knew he could ultimately ensure her cooperation. Even Viviana understood that he was deadly serious when he declared that going forward they would be working as a team. At least she would if she wanted to keep her badge. As much as he hated threatening her with dismissal, it was the only way he could break her lifelong refusal to trust anyone, including him. But he admitted that what worried him even more than her fierce independence was her emotional state. It was fragile at best. It didn’t take her pale, strained countenance to underscore the challenge that lay ahead. Hell, just ten days ago, she had been nearly beaten to death and doped with what could have been a lethal injection of Super 8 and smack by the Lolitas Unbound criminals.
Adding to her physical trauma, Jax had confronted her on the issue that he’d gradually become aware of. At his prodding, she reluctantly admitted that she had been a victim of abuse like the hundreds of young girls Viviana had tried to save in her relentless pursuit of child abusers. Jax intuitively knew that he was entering a minefield that, if not handled carefully, could blow up in their faces. His declaration that they would face the hideousness of her past together might not just torpedo their love affair, but more importantly, crush Viviana.
The nightmare she’d endured the night before confirmed that because of his insistent prodding, the memories she’d spent years burying beneath an impregnable shell were fighting to surface. Pushing her to remember, to acknowledge the ugliness of her past was a huge gamble, one he prayed would pay off. He wasn’t sanguine enough not to know that he needed all the help he could get. Acknowledging the irreparable pain his actions could cause, he’d turned to the most knowledgeable agent he knew who worked in the hideous arena of child abuse. Now, for better or worse, he was about to find out everything Serge Stryker had discovered about Viviana’s past.
Glancing around the table, Jax knew he didn’t need to look at the clock to confirm that the group before him needed a break. They’d been hard at work for more than six hours, the only respite being a take-in lunch. It was gratifying that the high-level team had proved their mettle. Taking the blueprint he’d laid out this morning, they had spent the day challenging one another and adding exponentially to an ambitious plan that at least had a ghost of a chance of succeeding.
Turning to the weary team, he moved from the monitors that were now filled with preliminary strategies and qualified his conclusion. “Look men—and woman—we all know wh
at we are up against. The fact that the seven of us think we have a chance of pulling this off speaks to a level of arrogance I thought only I had.” He waited until the agreeing laughter died to make his final point. “Just to confirm the obvious, success is possible only if every member of this team pulls their weight and cooperates with each other like hell.” He shrugged and said with a grin, “Fortunately, I am as arrogant as I am because over the years, I’ve seen men and women like us come together and do what the rest of the world—the good guys and the bad guys—didn’t think we could. I say let’s get out there and prove them wrong.”
At their agreeing shouts of approval, Jax added, “Now, let’s get the hell out of here and head for Flemings for a shot or three of the best booze in town. God knows we’ve earned it.”
As everyone was preparing to leave, Jax approached Viviana, who was standing by Mick. Trying to ignore how tired she looked, he assumed a bonhomie that he was far from feeling. “I know I kidnapped you this morning and that you are car-less.” Turning to Mick, he said, “I need to check on a few things. Detective, how about you ensure that the Enchantress gets to Flemings and the two of you insist that Francis brings out his best stash so we can impress these visiting hotshots with our hospitality.”
Jax caught Stryker’s eye and motioned for him to stay back. He knew he didn’t have to explain to the aware agent what he hoped to discover. After the others left, Jax went to his well-stocked bar and took out a bottle of Macallan and two glasses. Motioning to the chair by his desk, he said with a sigh, “Given the expression I see on your face, buddy, can I assume that my best and most powerful booze is in order?”
Serge breathed as hard a sigh as Jax had and nodded as he sank into the chair in front of Jax’s desk. He waited until Jax poured them both a healthy portion of the potent alcohol and handed him one. Accepting the drink, he raised his glass to Jax. His heartfelt groan after they each had taken a shot telegraphed his coming angst. “I know you’re expecting what I have to tell you, Jax. The only thing that I can tell you is to polish off that booze and then pour us both another because, buddy, we’re going to need it.”
Thirty minutes later, Jax shrugged and met his friend’s thoughtful gaze. “At some crazy level, I want to challenge you, make you prove to me what you’ve discovered isn’t true. That somehow you must have gotten erroneous information, or the names got mixed up.” Glancing at the sheets of paper littering his desk, he shook his head. “Jesus God, Serge, how the hell did Viviana survive this?”
He rose to his feet and began pacing across the room. Dragging a careless hand though his tousled hair, he turned on his friend, not hiding his pain. “Hell, a better question is not how she survived it but that she somehow thrived. Jesus, man, look at what she has done with her life. Viviana has saved hundreds of girls and made sure that countless despicable human beings will spend the rest of their lives in prison, followed by what I can only hope is an eternity in the hottest levels of hell.”
Allowing himself to feel the fury that was about to take him down, he glared at Serge. “Tell me—and I pray to God you know the answer to this question . . . ” He pointed to the incriminating papers on his desk. “Where are they? Are they alive? By God, I hope that they are. Have you located any of them?”
Stryker sighed. “I knew that would be your first question. Unfortunately, a couple of the ‘stepfathers’ are dead. Fortunately, they died how both you and I would have wanted them to. Either by being killed by assholes as evil as they were or dying from a painful disease. Those were the ones I was able to locate. The most egregious one, that first fucker, I haven’t found. I know it’s just a matter of time, but he truly has gone off the radar. He could be dead or have changed his identity enough that he’s going to be hard to find.” He added with a snort, “And as you can see, the one person we would both like to have in our crosshairs, her fucking mother, is also dead.”
Jax paced across the floor, willing himself to get control of his fury. He knew he couldn’t help Viviana unless he could tamp down his anger. Reminding himself of the challenge he faced, he shook his head and appealed to his friend.
“Jesus God, Serge, please tell me that I haven’t made the mistake of a lifetime insisting that I help the woman I love more than life itself to face a past this hideous.”
Serge raised his hand. “Stop, Jax. Don’t do this to yourself or to Viviana. Damn, man, when we talked in the middle of the Lolitas case, you were beside yourself. The woman you’re madly in love with came damn close to being killed. And why, Jax? What have you said again and again? That Viviana is a pathological loner. Strong words, my man, but all too true. Look at what she did in Belize. She infiltrated a goddamn Mexican cartel for the sole purpose of taking down its certifiably insane heir apparent. All by her lonesome! In the process, she almost torpedoed a two-year, high-level mission that only you could have saved. She did that, Jax, because she didn’t believe that she could trust anyone to help her.”
Jax nodded. He knew Serge was right. He’d made the same points repeatedly. Viviana’s unwillingness to trust anyone, including him, had almost gotten her killed at least three times in the six months he’d known her. The Lolitas horror was the final nail in what could have been her coffin. He’d put down an irreparable marker. He’d threatened her with her badge if she refused to cooperate. He’d also allowed himself to acknowledge what he could no longer ignore. He was far too knowledgeable about the hideous world of abuse not to recognize the signs that his woman and lover was the victim of childhood sexual abuse.
Serge broke into his thoughts. “Don’t misunderstand what I’m about to say, buddy, but you’re right. You are responsible for making Viviana face her past. That’s because being with you, falling hopelessly in love with you, has forced her to let go of the antimissile defense system she’s spent most of her life building around herself. The most telling sign that she is ready to deal with the ugly issues from her past is that you are passionate lovers. I have to tell you, Viviana may have had one or two sexual partners in her life, but no more. And then she met you. Hell, man, I’ve shared women with you. The last thing you are is an easy lover. No, buddy, you are demanding as hell. But Viviana responded to you passionately. Christ, you know she loves you. But take it from someone who’s studied this hideous field for years. She couldn’t have become your lover if she didn’t trust you. And once she began to trust, all of those formidable walls she’d built around her? Like the walls of Jericho, they just came a tumblin’ down.”
An hour later, after he and Serge had torn his findings apart, Jax was clear on the challenges ahead. He needed to confront Viviana. He needed to let her know he’d researched her past and that he now knew at least some of the details of her life. Details that she had likely never told anyone. He then needed to convince her that they would face that ugly past together. Most important, as he’d told her last night when he rocked her to sleep in his arms, no one and nothing would ever hurt her like that again.
****
Their group was easy to find at Flemings. All Jax had to do was follow the boisterous laughter of the irrepressible O’Reilly and see the men at neighboring tables ogling the gorgeous blonde woman in their midst. As Francis Fleming had told him many times, all he needed to exponentially increase his take for the night was to get the word out that the Enchantress had landed in his humble tavern. Jax nodded to the owner, with whom he had a layered relationship. He knew what no one else did: that Fleming was Viviana’s most closely guarded CI. Jax also knew that the only person Viviana had ever trusted was Francis. The bar owner had been her one confidant when she began to crack the Lolitas Unbound case.
Jax had come as close as he would to forgiving the chastened CI for not coming to him with the dangerous details of what Viviana was doing. But Jax now admitted it was Francis’s frantic call telling him that Viviana had been abducted that had saved her life. In the aftermath, when Fleming begged for forgiveness for not coming to him sooner, Jax wrought an inviolable promi
se from the traumatized man. He knew it would be hard for Viviana to break out of her Lone Ranger MO, and when she went off the reservation, he needed to know. There wasn’t a chance Viviana would trust Mick or Greg with critical information, but he was sure she would still confide in Francis. On threat of bodily harm, Francis promised he would tell Jax the minute Viviana went solo. In turn, Jax promised the mortified man that he would not expose him or imply to Viviana that Francis had broken her confidence. It was critical that Jax know when his hardheaded woman was reverting to her dangerously unacceptable behavior. When she did, he planned to clamp down on her. Hard.
Seeing Viviana holding court, surrounded by the cluster of clearly entranced men, Jax was struck by what an accomplished actress she was. He was confident he was the only one, with the exception of Francis and probably Serge Stryker, who saw the tension underlying her spirited façade. When she saw him approaching, her eyes darkened, and for an instant her mask slipped, revealing her fatigue. Knowing how much she valued her resilience and wouldn’t want any of the men to know how traumatized she was, he strode toward her with a wide grin. Not waiting for her to respond, he reached for her and pulled her up next to him. Tipping up her chin, he gazed down at her and, intending to be overheard, said in an audible undertone, “Ah yes. Now I can breathe. Or at least I will when I manage to get my woman away from this crowd of drooling men.”
Mick O’Reilly jumped to his feet in protest. “No fair, boss man! You get to see her in ways the rest of us never do. And—”
Tugging Viviana against his side, Jax dryly interrupted the Irishman. “May I add, Detective O’Reilly, in ways that none of you ever will.”
“Ah, c’mon, Chief. Don’t rub it in. Plus you gotta help us attack this insanely expensive Bowmore. Francis pulled out all the stops for our hotshot visitors, and we’re hard at work celebrating our coup today. Since it was your rodeo, Chief, you gotta have at least one drink or three with us.”