The Fugitive's Secret Child

by Geri Krotow

  The decor in the waiting area was professional and incredibly sleek yet still reasonably comfortable. This wasn’t a regular government agency, that was for certain. Trina almost laughed aloud as she compared the chair she sat in to the steel-framed director-style chairs in the US Marshals lobby. Not that she’d want it any different—taxpayer money went to apprehending felons and preventing man-made disasters. Posh furniture wasn’t in the deal. She waited for ten minutes but it felt like an hour.

  “Marshal Lopez? Claudia’s ready.”

  “Thank you.” She walked over to where the receptionist stood at a large door that, once opened, revealed it was built more like a bank safe. The inside of the door showed several inches of steel with countless bolts that Trina bet were all connected to encrypted codes.

  “Hi again, Trina. Please, have a seat.” Claudia looked up briefly from the large computer screen she sat behind, typing on a lower keyboard. She nodded at one of two chairs in front of her massive contemporary desk. Trina watched Claudia work and noted that if the woman’s hair hadn’t been that striking shade of silver, but instead dyed, she’d be hard-pressed to believe Claudia was old enough to have been a flag officer in the Marine Corps.

  Claudia pushed her keyboard tray into her desk with a flourish and stood up. “There! I’m sorry to be so rude but I had to answer some direct comms with our agents. Would you like coffee or tea?” Claudia walked over to a small kitchenette area where she clicked on an electric teakettle.

  “Tea’s great.”

  As she waited for the water to boil, Claudia examined Trina with her bright eyes. “You’ve been through a lot over the past several days, Trina. I appreciate your willingness to come in so readily.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “It’s Claudia. And you should know that my SVPD title, the social media director, is a cover. I’m the director of Trail Hikers.” The kettle clicked off. “Green tea? Herbal? Black?”

  “Green is wonderful.” She wanted a lift but didn’t think her nerves would handle much more stimulation. It figured that Claudia was the director. The woman struck her as someone who could move mountains. And she knew it.

  “Here you go.” Claudia placed a mug on the table between the two chairs and sat in the other empty chair instead of going back to her desk. Trina’s surprise must have been evident.

  “I don’t bite, honest.” Claudia sat back, relaxed but with the alertness only typical of a war veteran. Always watching for what lurked around the closest corner, or inside the person next to you. “As I said, I know how much you’ve been through. You should know that I run an agency that has access to anything imaginable, to include personal records. We only use our power as needed to take down our opponents, not to spy on American citizens.”

  “Claudia, do I need to know all of this?”

  “You will, if you agree to what I’m going to propose. What I’m talking about right now, though, is you and Rob. More importantly, you and Justin—before he became Rob.”

  Claudia knew, just as she’d said at SVPD. And she knew it all.

  “I’d say your systems are thorough.” Trina’s voice was steadier than her shaky bearings. Was anything sacred?

  “This is why I told you about our abilities, if rather vaguely. I could have found out whatever I needed, but I didn’t have to. Rob told us as soon as he reported for duty, after he left the CIA. I take it you know he worked for them for several years?”

  “Yes.” Would there be any point in lying to this woman?

  “Rob needed a change, and my agency offered him that. He’s only come here on a mission-by-mission basis. We happen to have several permanent positions available. I’d like to see him directing bigger operations instead of doing the day-to-day ops like what you were involved with last week.” Trina forced herself to keep from shaking her head. If coming face-to-face with ROC bad guys was part of what Claudia considered a day-to-day op, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what a major or strategic op entailed.

  “Why are you telling me this, Claudia?”

  “Actually, I need you to answer a question for me first. Are you willing to be read in to the Trail Hikers?” Claudia’s expression and straightforward demeanor signified no manipulation. This was Trina’s decision entirely.

  “Will it affect my position as a marshal?”

  “Not at all. If anything it may help you, as you’ll be privy to information and leads on cases you might otherwise not be. Of course you can’t reveal it in your daily US Marshal activity. Any information that’s proprietary to Trail Hikers is just that, but I think you’ll see that it won’t be difficult to keep the two paths of data separate.”

  “I’m in.”

  “Wonderful. But we’ll give you a little more information and time before we make you sign on the dotted line. You’ll have to sign a basic nondisclosure agreement now, though.” Claudia looked toward her desk. “Jessica, please take Trina to the classrooms.”

  After several hours of basic indoctrination, Trina was brought back into Claudia’s office to sign contracts to agree to keep all she saw at Trail Hikers headquarters secret, and to not involve any uncleared personnel in Trail Hikers business if at all possible. After she placed her signature on the last line of the last page, Claudia held out her hand. “Welcome to Trail Hikers, Trina.”

  “Thank you. It’s an honor to work with you. I know I’m not a full-time TH agent, but anything I can do to help with this mission, and future ops, I’m here.”

  * * *

  Trina had to sit through two full days of briefing and some operational drills at the TH offices. Corey knew what she was doing, and the rest of the Marshals office was told she was taking classes. The training explained a lot to her and answered her most pressing question—how much of TH work could she do while still working as a US marshal?

  A lot, it turned out. Trina had to admit to herself that this was what she’d been looking for. A way to broaden the challenges of her work without having to leave the area. Settling down in one area with Jake had been her long-term goal, and it was a relief to have the Trail Hikers. Serendipity came to Silver Valley, apparently.

  And she’d remain a Trail Hiker, even if for an unforeseen reason she ever left the US Marshals. She’d have to have another job or occupation to serve as her main career, as it was a requisite for all Trail Hikers agents to have a cover job, but it had to be real, as well. Actual Trail Hikers work and missions would occupy only up to a third of her time, but they would pay handsomely. A great way to save up sooner for Jake’s college, that was for sure.

  Three days after she’d begun her Trail Hikers indoctrination, or “indoc,” Claudia called her into the office again.

  “I take it your training has gone well?”

  “Yes—although maybe you should tell me? We don’t seem to get much feedback from the instructors.”

  “You didn’t get much feedback because you’ve had most of the training. There isn’t much you haven’t already been exposed to.”

  “True. Except for all the technology.” Trina had noted that where her tools such as handcuffs and comms gear were limited to what the government gave the US Marshals, Trail Hikers didn’t seem to have the same budgetary constraints.

  “Yes, we have the best and latest. Futuristic, in many cases.”

  “It’ll be fun working here.”

  Claudia leaned back in her office chair, her expression relaxed. “I hope it’s more than fun. My wish is that you’re able to grow as much personally as professionally from all that TH offers you.” Before Trina responded, Claudia stood up and walked around to the front of the desk, where she leaned as she continued speaking. “Now on to the first mission I need you to do.” As if by magic, the door behind Trina opened, and she looked over her shoulder to see Rob walk through. They hadn’t spoken to each other in the days she’d been participating in the intensive indoc train
ing, and it was like seeing him for the first time all over again. He was at her side in three long strides, lowering himself into the second chair.

  “Claudia, Trina.”

  “Rob, Trina, I have a mission for you both. I understand that working together may be a bit tense for you at this juncture in reacquainting yourselves, but it can’t be helped. You’re two of my best Russian speakers and we’ve got a big problem right here in Silver Valley that needs to be stomped out before ROC thinks it can run this town.”

  “Is it with the same group we were up against in the Poconos?”

  “Yes. It turns out there was another trailer of girls that went unnoticed until they’d been dispersed to several towns in southern Pennsylvania. Five of them are local to Silver Valley, and all working at the Den, as well as making extra money at the truck service station off the main drag.”

  The Den was labeled as a “gentlemen’s club” in Silver Valley, but everyone knew it wasn’t just a strip joint. It had come under fire for unlicensed gambling, and there were unsubstantiated reports of prostitution.

  “If you know the girls are there, why can’t Immigration take them in, for their own safety?”

  Claudia’s lips pursed as though she, too, was frustrated with having to jump through hoops to save the young women. “We need time, and we need them to ask for help. Right now none of them speak English, or if they do, they don’t let on. They converse only in Russian, and all have visas and passports that indicate they’re older than they are. Of course the visas and passports are fake, but again, we don’t want to go rolling in there unless we’re fairly certain we can take down the ROC group perpetrating this. Otherwise there will only be more ROC activity coming into Silver Valley, until the numbers are too great for us, or rather, local law enforcement, to keep up with.”

  “I’m sure Claudia or the other instructors told you this already, but Trail Hikers doesn’t usually get involved in anything that local law enforcement or even the FBI can handle.”

  “Right. And I’m thinking we’re back to the language ability—there aren’t a lot of fluent Russian speakers in our area.” Trina did think there would have to be a fair number of Russian speakers in TH, however, as it was a clandestine agency that helped go after ROC.

  “Yes. TH has several agents who are polyglots and speak Russian, of course. But they’re currently assigned to other ops, unable to break free.”

  “Trina is perfect for this.” Rob added his opinion. “As a woman you may be more approachable for the girls. You and I do have a history of working well together.”

  “I read up on what you two did in the Navy. I knew about it peripherally as I was in the same Middle Eastern country then, too.” Claudia addressed Trina. “Your squadron and the P-8 community in general provided a lot of support to our MEFs.” Yes, Trina had flown many hours in support of US Marine expeditionary forces. Until she’d been assigned exclusively to support Rob’s SEAL team.

  “We did, as well as less frequent SEAL support ops. It was my privilege to fly those missions.” Trina looked at Rob. “We worked together then because the missions had been deeply strategized many months ahead of time. What we did last week, what this might require, is much more fluid.”

  “If by ‘fluid’ you mean it could turn deadly on a dime, Trina, yes, you’re correct. But so could any of your apprehensions as a US marshal, right?” Claudia was no-nonsense.

  “Yes, that’s correct.” As Trina spoke, she felt Rob’s gaze on her and knew what he was thinking. He was asking that same damned question about why she chose law enforcement when she was a single mother. “And while some people might not understand why I’d take a job that involves some dangerous situations, law enforcement is my calling. I realized that during the war. Even though I was a pilot, I felt that I was doing something actively to bring justice to a part of the world that hasn’t experienced it in a long while. And if we’re going to talk about danger or life-threatening, simply driving to work on the interstate or turnpike can turn deadly in a heartbeat. I can’t live in fear, and I’m not raising my son to live a fear-based life, either.” Her voice shook with her conviction, and she forced herself to take several deep, slow breaths. Claudia was going to kick her off the TH team before she ever got started.

  “I commend your resolve, Trina. And I’m grateful for your expertise. So, are you both on board for this mission? Together?”

  Trina looked at Rob and found him staring at her, his brows lifted in expectation. He was leaving it up to her.

  “Yes, of course. But how are we going to infiltrate this group of girls? The truck stop or strip club or both? Will I go undercover as one of them?” She imagined having to explain to Jake why Mommy had false eyelashes and heavy makeup on.

  “We have a lead on that.” Claudia rose off the desk and walked around to her executive chair, sitting to pull a three files from a small, neat stack. “Here you go.” She handed them each one and opened her file. “The Silver Valley Community Church has an outreach program for human trafficking. Mostly, it deals with young women who came here under the guise of becoming nannies or housekeepers, but they end up working in the sex trade. They take hot meals and goodie bags with coupons, gift certificates and such into the strip club once a week, at lunchtime. The owner allows it and actually encourages the girls to attend. He didn’t have any part in the women coming into the country per se. He does employ them now, though, and wants to give the appearance of cooperating with ‘helping’ these young women. The owner doesn’t want to get caught breaking the law, and if any of the girls admits she’s underage, or of age and wants out of the adult entertainment industry, he doesn’t fight it. SVCC has volunteer families that take the girls in until they can be situated in regular jobs or college, working with a social worker.” Claudia waited while they looked at their copies.

  “Doesn’t he lose all of his dancers this way?” Trina thought women would jump at the chance to get out of the adult entertainment industry.

  “No. They’re afraid of losing what they have—a decent paying job and a place to live. It’s what they know, and safer than what they went through when they were transported here.”

  “What about the truck stop?” Trina couldn’t get past the image of teenage girls having to turn tricks for aging truckers, risking their lives each time.

  “That’s a little more difficult, as the abused women know how to evade any kind of arrest. SVCC goes in every now and then and sets up a table outside with sandwiches and hot drinks, cold in the summer. Every now and then they convince one of the women to get help and escape their basic enslavement, but it’s not easy. These are women who’ve been so abused they fear any change. It seems incomprehensible to us, as we know they’ll have a better life going forward, away from how they were trafficked into the country. But they’re in pure survival mode. We have had more success lately, however, as social media helps get the word out to the most disenfranchised that assistance is available.”

  “The women risk going up to the table?”

  “Sure. They see the same volunteers there, week after week, and feel more comfortable around them. Don’t forget the truck stops are also good places for the homeless to find a free meal. The church outreach groups also feed the homeless. Not all truckers are looking for sex on their rest time. Many work with the outreach program and pay for meals for the homeless. Many truckers dine with the homeless, when the homeless agree to it. Several other churches in the area reach out to the homeless at many different waypoints. The truck stops are a main location.”

  “Why are you telling us about the SVCC outreach, Claudia?” Rob’s voice sounded rough. Something about this wasn’t making him happy. Did he not want to work with her again? He’d seemed eager enough when he’d walked in here.

  “Trina, you’re familiar with SVCC, right?”

  Trina held back a smile. There was nothing that TH didn’t find out or know abo
ut its agents. “Yes, it’s my parents’ place of worship when they’re in town. My brother and I go with them on the major holidays.” And that was becoming more often as Jake grew and Trina wanted to give him some kind of spiritual basis on which to form an opinion. She was all for letting Jake choose his own religion as an adult but felt as his mother she needed to expose him to something regularly while he was young.

  “Then it wouldn’t be unreasonable for you and Rob to attend church there, behaving as, say, an engaged couple with a son?”

  Trina sucked in her breath. “Are you sure this is a super classified law enforcement agency, Claudia? Because it sounds like a dating service on steroids.”

  Claudia laughed and so did Rob, although his sounded more like an expression of relief that Trina had said what perhaps he hadn’t wanted to.

  He was being extra careful, she thought. He was afraid she’d tell him he couldn’t see Jake again, which was ridiculous. And maybe even a little worried she wanted more from him than he was willing to give. Rob would probably always have these kind of concerns, coming from the foster system. It made her care about him even more, because with each breath he was overcoming his past.

  “What you two decide to do about your arrangement is none of my business.” Claudia’s high color indicated that maybe she was fibbing, just a bit. “But I think you’ll be able to pull off being a couple, right?”

  Trina looked at Rob, who was staring at the file on his lap. His tension was obvious in the way he gripped the chair arms. “Why a church, Claudia? Can’t we pose as social workers?”

  “I know you’re not a fan of churches, Rob, but I think you’ll see that SVCC is how a church is meant to be. Nothing like what you experienced in your foster home.” She spoke firmly but with compassion.

  Trina’s heart pumped nothing but compassion for Rob. He’d mentioned he’d grown up in foster care, that his biological parents had died of drug overdoses when he was only five.

  The same age as Jake.

  Rob’s foster parents had been churchgoers in the strictest sense, and he’d been forced to follow black-and-white rules to the point of abuse. He’d survived that time in his life and told her his happiest moment was when he’d enlisted in the Navy. He’d quickly been moved to officer candidate school and then to SEAL training. And never looked back, never cared to see his foster parents again.