Raging Fire (Guarded Secrets Book 4)

by Sara Schoen

  “I don’t like it, but I know we have to do something to stop them. I may not like the plan, but you’re right, they have to stop coming back. We are wasting time and resources by continuing to go after them. There are other cartels and if we leave them alone too long they’ll eventually gain the same amount of power that the Cardoza’s had.” Siren turned around as I pointed over her shoulder to see the next patrol coming out of the compound now. She nodded and took a few quick steps back. “I have to go before they get here, and slip back in without anyone seeing me. I’m not supposed to be outside unless for patrol or movement between buildings. Lay low for a couple more days until we’re ready to go. You might as well rest up. You’re going to need it.”

  She took off before Rum and I took our position back in the trees. All we had to do now was lay low for three more days, and then it would be over. Siren may not like the plan, but at least she was on board. Now if only I had the same certainty that I would make it through this to find and kill Harley, then I’d be able to rest. If Rum and I were on the outside, Siren was right. It was unlikely we would survive, but if it got rid of Harley I didn’t care what I had to give to make that happen. He deserved whatever he had coming to him.

  Chapter 19

  I was awoken by a loud conversation beneath me. Voices of cartel members traveled easily and unrestrained through the forest. Though they didn’t have to worry about that, because unlike me, they were supposed to be here. I shifted positions to get as comfortable as I could when I managed to pick out a familiar voice in the stream of conversation. I couldn’t focus my attention on who it was though. My head remained in a sleep induced fog until Rum roughly, as in almost knocking me off my branch and onto the ground, shook me awake. I didn’t have time to berate her for doing it before she directed my attention toward the patrol.

  Picking out Sandstorm was the easy part, the difficult aspect was figuring out his gestures. He waved his hands wildly as he talked to the other people in the team. It looked unnatural, not only because of his over-animated talking, but also because he was never a part of a patrol before. He usually pulled up the rear to check their work. What is going on? I wondered as I continued to watch him. After a while he began to relax and fall into his usual stiff and abrasive self.

  “What the hell was that about?” I whispered, careful not to speak too loudly to avoid from having my voice carry through the woods.

  “Look,” Rum said, pointing to a piece of paper behind the group. It was crumbled into a ball and honestly, it looked like nothing more than trash. “I think it’s for us.”

  “What makes you think that? It could have already been there and we just hadn’t noticed it before. It looks like discarded trash.”

  “Well, if you weren’t so difficult to wake up and had paid any attention to that exchange at all, you would have seen Sandstorm drop it. He was very discrete about it and did it when he moved to the back of the group to do a fake look around before they fanned out. Think about it Spit fire, why else would he be part of a patrol? Siren said he was a big deal; I doubt they would make him take part in patrolling the grounds if he didn’t want to. That means he volunteered for the job.” She looked at me with a smirk and a knowing gleam in her eye, knowing she had proven her point, but she decided to drive it home just in case I was still half asleep. “He probably did it to avoid having a tail while he gave us information. It was smart on his part. I see why you admire him.”

  I rolled my eyes at her comment and decided it was best to ignore it entirely. There was no convincing her differently once she got an idea in her head, and while I had no interest in Sandstorm, that wouldn’t stop her from pushing the topic every chance she got. “I think you’re so hopeful for something to do, since we still have two days of waiting left, that you’re willing to jump on the first thing you think could be a break.”

  “Yeah, I will admit that I’m hopeful I won’t have to be up here for two more days. Not everyone can sit still and sleep throughout the day. I like to be active and move around. If I sat up here until we start raking them down I’ll go stir crazy.”

  “I see why Night Stripe is so jumpy and impatient. She learns it from you. If you could relax a little more, then maybe she wouldn’t be so willing to jump the gun on missions.” I thought back to the mission in Gorod. She could have escaped, yet she went back to save a teammate and they both got caught. I didn’t criticize that choice, but I did disapprove of her going into the compound without back up in the first place or going in blind just to get information. She was impulsive and refused to think of the consequences until they became an actual problem. If she just relaxed and thought everything through she’d have an easier time.

  “I train her to do that,” Rum stated with a tightness in her voice which surprised me. It almost sounded like I’d insulted her. “She stays on the balls of her feet, she’s ready to move in a moment’s notice, and she’s gone before anyone notices she’s messed up. If I start telling her to relax then it will slow her reaction time and it will lead to more problems. I’d rather her be ready and move two steps ahead of everyone else, even herself sometimes. It will only help her stay alive longer to train her own protégé.” As if to prove a point, Rum moved quickly and tossed her concealed knife in my direction. I barely managed to avoid it before it lodged into the tree trunk beside my head. It stuck out of the bark and measured less that two inches from my face. “See? You’re too relaxed. She would have been able to catch it or at least move farther from its path.”

  My body remained tense, as if I was ready to jump into action in case I needed to move again. No wonder Night Stripe seemed so wired, she was ready to spring at a second’s notice, but that’s not how I worked. I had to have a clear head, not constant paranoia.

  “I was relaxed until you almost killed me. What did that do for you?”

  She laughed as she pulled the knife from the tree easily and in the same motion dropped down to the ground. I didn’t bother looking for the patrol before I followed her lead because she wouldn’t have jumped down unless the coast was clear. That is unless she really was exactly like Night Stripe and was prepared to jump back if needed, but I doubted it. There was too much of a risk in the woods to be seen by patrols or those in the compound, our moves had to be calculated, planned, and meaningful. Though once my feet touched the ground, I wasn’t sure why I followed. She didn’t need my help to read a note, she could have easily reported back to me what it said. Maybe we weren’t that different after all; we would both get stir crazy if we had to sit in the trees for another two days.

  She plucked the discarded paper ball from the ground and unfolded it in her hands before she began to read. The sound felt deafening in the silence of the trees. It seemed almost loud enough to be heard for miles, and if we weren’t careful the sound could echo through the woods and be overheard by a patrol. It seemed like the trees were working against us, bouncing every noise around the forest. The silence was nearly just as bad because it held uncertainty. I was waiting for the patrol to come back and find us, causing everything to blow up in our faces before we even started. Something about the silence just made every small noise deafening instead of a murmur through the wind as it should be.

  “It says that he’ll visit us tomorrow after nightfall so he can go over the plan one more time with us. I’m sure that’s just to make sure we’re all on the same page. He must be worried about us out here alone, but he explains he won’t be able to get here until he’s able to shake his tail. He adds that if he doesn’t show up, he’s fine and we should go over the plan before the big day and stay out of trouble for a few more days, if that’s even possible for us.” She laughed lightly at his remark before she continued reading. “It continues to say everything will be set after today. He’s collected all the information he needed and he’s also laid a box with all of the information on the other side of the compound, which he needs us to bury.”

  “Wasn’t Siren supposed to do that?”

  Rum
nodded in response. She folded the note and stuffed it into her pocket for safe keeping. We didn’t want the patrol coming back and becoming curious about what it was. For now, it was safer with us, but once the plan started we should dispose of it so it didn’t lead back to Sandstorm. That was if he even made it out alive. “That’s what she said, but I guess something happened and she couldn’t do it. He didn’t explain why though. He just gave us a rather crudely drawn map and said we will find a shovel there to help us.”

  “Well, I’m glad he thought to give us a shovel. I wouldn’t have wanted to dig a hole with my hands,” I said with sarcasm and annoyance lacing my words.

  Rum smirked, holding back laughter, as she looked over the map again before handing it to me. She was right, it was very basic, like a kindergartener had drawn it. There were a few square boxes, which I assumed were the buildings of the compound, stick figures labeled Rum and Spit Fire in an approximate location to where we were now, along with an arrow which I assumed was pointing toward the location of the box a few yards away from the compound, but the picture was so poorly drawn I couldn’t be sure.

  “Wow, I guess he wasn’t an artist in his previous life.”

  “I guess not. We can’t all have secret talents though,” she said with a laugh, alluding to some of the agents at CIRA. One had been a promising musician once upon a time, others were crafty, a few had written books, and others had odd hobbies which were given up when they entered the agency. There just wasn’t time for it anymore, I didn’t even have time to read anymore. “I’m good to go now. Are you ready or are you going to sit here while I bury the evidence?”

  I glanced around awkwardly. Should we go? What about the patrol? Would they catch us? Not if we left now, I thought. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

  She nodded and led the way at a light jog. We made our way around the compound, jumping between trees for coverage while keeping an eye out to make sure no one was around. We stayed quiet as we traveled, stepping on the leaf litter to cushion the sound of our footfalls. Once again every sound seemed deafening to me, but to the minimal cartel members walking around the compound we must’ve been silent. No one reacted to the occasional sound of sticks snapping beneath our feet as we slowly inched toward the compound, counting the buildings to better follow Sandstorm’s photo. We walked stealthily, using the trees as cover to elude anyone from accidentally spotting us, and to avoid walking into another patrol by accident, but as we neared the compound fewer members were outside to spot us. There wasn’t a lot of movement from the compound. What I could see was most of the members leaving the yard of the compound and heading into one the buildings. Leaving us alone and able to work.

  “What do you think is going on?” I asked as we snuck by. “Why isn’t there anyone outside anymore?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’m thankful for it while we move around. I don’t want to get caught and ruin this before we have a chance to do any damage.”

  I nodded in agreement as we continued to make our way through the woods. It wasn’t much longer before we stumbled onto the small box Sandstorm left for us to bury. I glanced around uncomfortably as Rum looked around for the shovel, once again following the map he provided us. It seemed odd to me that no one was out here. Where are they? What are they doing? Thoughts raced through my mind rapidly as I tried to piece a possible answer together. Something just wasn’t sitting right with me.

  “Here you go,” Rum said, coming back into view and handing me a dirty spade. It looked as if he had caked it in mud to conceal it. Was it that hard to get something to help us dig a hole? I guess it would have looked suspicious if he carried a shovel out of the compound and then didn’t return with it, where as a spade was easier to conceal. “You can dig the hole. I’ll keep watch in case anyone comes out.”

  My face fell into a hard grimace before I swiped the spade from her. “Gee, thanks.” The sarcasm dripped from my words as I kneeled down and started digging.

  The ground was hard, not having rained recently, making it difficult to dig. I had to force the spade into the ground and still only managed to pull up a minimal amount of soil. This is going to take a while.

  “What do you think is really going on in this cartel?” Rum questioned. I didn’t turn around to see where she was looking, but something must have caught her attention because she had stood up a little straighter and was more alert now. Maybe she’d heard something while I was distracted by digging the hole, which was now half the size of my spade.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s strange. There’s no one out here, and from what we’ve seen the last few days they seem to be highly organized and security conscious. Why would they choose to leave the compound unguarded for so long? It doesn’t add up with what they’ve done so far.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they believe in randomizing the routine as much as possible to confuse anyone who could be watching,” I said, my voice strained as dug the last few shovelfuls of dirt.

  I shoved the box into the small hole and started to bury it without questioning if it would look suspicious. I didn’t want to dig anymore, and if I buried it too deep, whoever came by to retrieve it may question if it was really there. It was also a timing issue. If you spend too long burying it then you could get caught, and if you spend too much time digging it up then you could get caught. Once it was in the ground I placed a set of four rocks on top so I wouldn’t lose track of it later. I stood up and dusted off my hands before turning to meet Rum’s gaze. It flickered between me and the compound. She was as curious about what was happening on the inside as I was, and I was willing to investigate while the cartel members were busy.

  “I’m not sure why they’d leave it unguarded this long, but if you’re so curious about it then why don’t we find out what’s going on?

  A confused expression set deep in her features. “Because it’s stupid. You can’t be serious right now, Spit Fire. We did our job, now we have to go back to hiding until everything is set. This is the perfect chance to make it back safely.”

  “No, I’m not going back until I get some answers. I’m going in and you can either come with me or not. Either way, I don’t care.” I took a few steps forward, but Rum sidestepped me to put herself in my path.

  “Think logically here, Spit Fire. It’s an unnecessary danger.”

  “Our job is dangerous,” I pointed out. “Would you rather go back to sitting in a tree and doing nothing all day? This is what we came here for.” I sidestepped her and walked toward the first building I could get into easily. It didn’t take long for Rum to fall into step behind me—I hadn’t even made it to the door yet—cursing me every step of the way as I pulled the door open to the building. “You’ll thank me for this one day, Rum,” I whispered, keeping my voice low.

  She scoffed. “Before or after I die?” she mumbled just before we entered the building.

  Chapter 20

  “It’s completely empty,” I mused as I looked over the bunks in the room. There were multiple sets of bunk beds, but it only totaled to about fifty people being able to stay in this room. There had to be other sleeping areas because we’d seen so many people, unless the randomness Harley had worked so hard to perfect was meant to cover the actual amount of people in the cartel. Maybe there weren’t as many members as we thought, but Sandstorm still believed it would be a hard fight. As the thought crossed my mind, the small amount of hope I had let build up was crushed. There had to be more rooms just like this, and the fight would be long and hard, if not impossible.

  Rum glanced around before taking a few steps toward the door, waiting for me to follow after her again. “I don’t like this, Spit Fire. We shouldn’t be here. We need to leave.”

  I ignored her, instead continuing to look through the room. Trunks were resting under the bunk beds, nothing was left out in the spotless room, and from what I could tell there was no personalization. The sleeping arrangements were bare, the beds kept made and tight, and only a single sheet was provide
d. “Feels like a military school or something.”

  Rum sighed before walking toward me, clearly giving up on the hope I would leave. “That could tell us something about Harley. You did say he was organized and paranoid, do those qualities stem from his past? Do you know what he did before he met your mom?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. I asked her about him sometimes, but it never got very far because I don’t think she knew much about his past. He didn’t talk about it and I think it’s because he hadn’t prepared a lie extensive enough to cover everything. He was after a marriage, not a relationship so there wasn’t a need to create an in-depth, fake life. Besides, if he had told me anything, by now I wouldn’t believe a word he’d said. I don’t know much about him that’s true except what he couldn’t hide. Like his controlling personality for example.”

  Rum nodded in my peripheral vision and continued to look through the room. I tried to stop as a slow realization came over me. My gaze shot around the room as I realized it looked eerily similar to my room at CIRA; completely void of a personal touch, and with minimal belongings. The lack of decoration alluded to the people being most likely empty inside and out. They were here because they had nothing else. This was where they had been given the opportunity to turn to instead of CIRA. Harley had taken advantage of them in their weakened state as he had done with my mother. He was still the same fucking bastard I had known all those years ago.

  “Siren said he scrapped the bottom of the barrel for some of these people,” I stated as I began looking over the one trunk that had any personalization on it. Stickers decorated the side in no particular rhyme or reason. It looked as if it belonged to a younger girl, judging from the pink horse stickers and flowers that decorated the corners.