by James, Ranay
Mason huffed. “According to you, I think with my dick. So, yeah, I’m pretty much thinking a waste.” He was candid, getting serious for the first time since walking into the office. “Listen, Robbie, I’m not feeling the love here. You know that I usually work alone and if not alone then with a couple of guys, tops.”
He never worked with a woman for several reasons and him being sexist had nothing to do with it. “You know McKinnon battle rule number one.” Mason was well versed in the art of warfare.
Robert nodded. He knew the drill. “Never let the enemy see your weakness.”
“Yeah, and women are one of my weaknesses,” Mason shrugged at the futility of fighting the truth. “They distract me. I smell estrogen in the air, and I’m like a rat seeing something shiny.” He sighed dramatically, waving his hand around as if to emphasize the haphazard nature of his inner beast.
Robert laughed. At least he is being honest, he thought, and Mason understood his self-limitations and weaknesses well enough. Robert also understood a good woman could be a man’s heart and soul, and total strength if a man allowed it to be so. His own growing family was his greatest weakness yet also his greatest strength. It could be the same for Mason, but only with the right woman.
Robert could see Mason needed a nudge. “Will it help with your decision to know the client asked for you specifically to lead this mission?”
“Maybe.” Mason was curious as he met his brother’s gaze. He typically never met the client. The type of jobs he did were by and large, smash and grab or totally covert missions. The client usually did not have a clue how it was accomplished or by whom. They usually did not care either, just so it got done.
Robert saw that Mason was still wavering. “It will be challenging, but I’ve never known you to back away from a challenge. It won’t be easy. However, time is short and I have no issue giving it to someone else if you want to pass.”
Robert understood his brother well. A little space and a chance to think was what he usually needed to agree to a mission. The more challenging jobs fit well with the youngest of his siblings.
“Tough mission?” Mason asked narrowing his eyes, thinking.
“Extremely. Could get you killed. So? You in or out?”
Mason was giving it credible thought. “Panama doing a dangerous assignment or staying here in Dallas in September. Tough choice.” Mason rubbed his goatee and half-day's growth of stubble on his cheek.
Robert knew it really was a tough choice for him. The prospect of danger and beautiful, tropical women was a lure for his baby brother, but the Dallas Cowboy football season was opening in less than a week. Second to women, Mason loved his sports. However, he loved women first and foremost, but on his terms. He dated them, slept with them, and never called again. There were broken hearts all over the state of Texas from Waskom to El Paso and from Amarillo to Brownsville. He was the best looking of all the living McKinnon men, in Robert’s opinion. The women backed that up, too. The female sex, no matter how young or old, was drawn to him like bees to nectar, and Mason loved them all, but never enough to remember their names and certainly never enough to see them more than twice.
Robert was thinking about his other brother, Chase. These two were two birds of a feather. They both were playboys. However, Mason was just more overt with his hound dog tactics than Chase ever would be. Barbara had called both Mason and Chase hounds and some other less flattering animal names throughout the years, and all were justly deserved. However, there was one thing separating Mason from Chase. At least Chase knew not to kiss and tell. Mason was just Mason, and Robert despaired of his baby brother ever settling down.
Mason reached across the desk for a pen. “All right. Give me the contract. I’ll sacrifice a few opening games. There is bound to be satellite T.V. where you’re booking us, right?” Mason conceded and scrawled his signature on the bottom of the contract below another signature which he did not take time to read.
He was growing excited now that the decision was finalized. “What’s the objective here?” he asked as he pushed the contract back over to Robert, who took the contract and walked back to his safe.
“Gun runners, drug dealers, and murderers just for starters,” Robert said as he turned the combination on the wall safe and then pulled the door back. Pulling some documents out for them to review, Robert began his briefing. “Houston Port Authority recently intercepted a shipment which came via Panama. The guns were cleverly hidden inside the hull of the Ivanov, a tanker docked at port.” He pushed the photo across the desk for Mason to see.
“Russian tanker?” Mason asked wondering how deep the involvement went as he studied the photo of the tanker listing to starboard.
“No, the Ivanov is owned by a dummy corporation based out of Panama. We have our suspicion as to who is behind it. We cannot prove anything at this point.”
“Why?” Mason was wondering why their sources could not track the ownership. That fact alone raised red flags.
“You will see why here in a minute.” Robert wanted Mason to get the full story in its proper sequence.
“I’m listening.” Mason was now totally into this.
“We probably would never have intercepted the shipment except for Hurricane Ike tearing a hole in the side of the ship. Port Authorities acted quickly thinking it was an oil tanker only to discover it was transporting other goods not quite so welcome inside our borders. We think the job is the work of Carlos Del Torres.”
“Ahh, The Carver, Emilio Del Torres’ brother.” Mason instantly knew the name and family, and it explained the why of his earlier question. Emilio Del Torres basically owned the National Police and ruling bodies through large campaign contributions and donations to pet projects and charities. When that did not work, then bribes and threats were usually in order. Failing that, death usually followed quickly. Permission for an investigation into Emilio’s business dealings would take an act of global proportions. Something McKinnon-Bride was not large enough to procure. Cost alone would prohibit it.
Carlos was the darker side of the family where as Emilio was almost untouchable. Garnering large blocks of support, Emilo was on the surface a legitimate businessman owning large shares in most industry and commerce coming into and out of Panama. He dined with the elite, but slept with the underbelly.
Something had to eventually stick to him, Mason thought.
Going up against this family was going to be tricky, Mason thought. Not impossible, but definitely up there on the risk factor scale. Del Torres was a bad ass without a doubt, Mason acknowledged.
However, personally, Mason felt he was in possession of even bigger testicular fortitude than Del Torres.
Robert could not have agreed more on either count. The unshakable confidence his brother possessed had been the reason he usually came back alive. Mason never gave thought of failure as a possibility, and he was willing to go to extremes to succeed.
The last Mason had heard, Carlos was awaiting extradition for charges on smuggling guns, drugs, and illegal immigrants into California, Texas, and Florida. He did not bother to mention that Del Torres was also facing charges of two counts of murder for killing his second-in-command who just happened to be his son. Talk about cold, Mason agreed. Carlos also reportedly killed his son-in-law whose body was found dismembered in a South Texas hotel bathroom. His son-in-law’s head was reportedly attached to the shower head with water coming out of his mouth like some macabre fountain.
“What happened with Carlos?” Mason asked as he propped his boot-covered feet up on the corner of Robert’s desk. Robert raised a brow at him. He immediately put them down.
“Carlos managed to escape from a maximum security detention facility while awaiting extradition to the U.S. on Federal Firearms Violations,” Robert said as he tossed the F.B.I. file across his desk to Mason. It landed with a healthy thud.
Mason reached for the four inch thick file. “So, that's what they’re calling smuggling these days, firearms violation, huh?” Pul
ling out the wrap sheet, he whistled through his teeth. “Ohhhh, lucky me, I get to go after the F.B.I.’s third most wanted. Del Torres has moved up in the rankings, I see. Last time I looked he was sitting at number seven.” He looked up from the file. “Why us, Robert? Shouldn’t the Marshal Service be in on this one? This is more Cullen’s arena.”
Mason was referring to Cullen McKinnon who lived in San Antonio, Texas. Cullen was Division Director for the fugitive retrieval program for the U.S. Marshal Service and very, very good at what he did for a living.
“Under normal circumstances, yes. As a U.S. Marshal Cullen would be upfront and center. However, not this time. There is a catch.”
“That would be?” Mason was all ears. He understood now why Robert had asked him to cancel his poker game. This was going to take a while to plan and pull together his team. He was already running down the list of those he needed and those he would leave behind. Liam was on the latter list.
Unconditionally, he knew this was going to be a difficult case simply from the hard on he was currently sporting. Maybe, I do think with my dick, he silently mused. Danger always did that to him and instinctively his body knew this mission was going to challenge him in ways he had never seen in his life, not as a Marine Force Recon specialist or lately as a mercenary for hire. Having to act the part of the happily married man was just about as far as he could stretch himself.
“Cullen’s wife went into false labor after I left their ranch last night. Cullen flew her to Seabridge and even though the baby did not come, they are staying in England for a while. You know the tradition of our family, Mason. McKinnon children are always delivered on the family estate.”
“Yeah, maybe it is a tradition for the British side of the family, but we’re the American Men for Christ’s sake. We cut the cord from the mother country two hundred and thirty years ago, Robert. I cannot believe Mom actually went along with that crock of crap and had all of us boys over there at Seabridge. Eve is the only one who can boast she was Texas-born and bred.”
Robert just let him ramble, knowing Mason would eventually get back on track.
“I’ll be damned if I have my kid over there in England. Of course I’d have to have a brain tumor and lose all rational thought to get married. You said three things. The baby is one. What are the others?”
Robert pushed a single candid photo across the desk. “Second is the fact we believe Emilio has taken a hostage, and it makes sense that Carlos will make a beeline for his brother.”
Two for one Mason thought just before glancing at the photo.
“Jesse,” Mason breathed under his breath.
Robert felt a physical shift in the room. Mason was the calm before the storm. Robert had felt this before when Mason was fully engaged. He never understood it and often wondered if it was just a feeling that Mason generated or if he actually physically altered a space. It was almost as if the air had been sucked out leaving the room darker and heavier.
Narrowed eyes met Robert’s. “Del Torres is a dead man.”
To Robert’s mind there was no doubt that was how this should end, but one never really knew. Fate was fate and it was a very dangerous game they played.
For Mason it was already a fact.
He had already painted a bull’s eye on the man and pulled the trigger. He already pictured the man dead, lying sprawled in his own blood. It was the future as he would make it.
Looking at the picture his gut clenched. Del Torres had made a major mistake. The bastard had taken a child and not just any child. He had taken a McKinnon, and Jesse was his favorite. Now, he understood why the “client” had asked for him.
“Does Josh know yet?” Mason released the room and Robert felt the air return.
Mason could not imagine what his cousin Josh was going through if Josh knew Jesse was in the clutches of these two brothers. Maybe it was better not to let Josh know Carlos was a vicious killer, cutting his victims viciously and sadistically while they were still alive. He was known for raping any female captive he managed to secure and often to the point of death. Better not to add that knowledge to Josh’s agony. It changed nothing one way or the other.
“Josh is on the way and he should be here any minute. The third reason the Feds won’t be going in are the local authorities.”
Robert hit the play button on the DVR. Immediately, Mason saw the grainy black and white recording of the inside of the holding cell. Carlos was being questioned one minute, and then there were two officers who entered the interrogation room. The tape jumped and the next scene showed the room totally empty.
“The tape has been tampered with,” Robert commented.
Obviously, Mason thought.
Robert continued. “Cullen and I have reviewed the tapes of his escape and there is no doubt he had inside help.”
“The fact the tape was erased is evidence enough to support that, Robert. So, I agree. We are dealing with dirty cops.”
Not a first, Mason thought. It made things more difficult because you could not trust anyone, not that he ever did trust anyone when doing something as dangerous and covert as what they were about to do.
“If the Feds go in the front door, the accomplice or accomplices, and you can bank on more than one, will know immediately and tip off the brothers. My guess would be any agent entering Panama would probably come home in a body bag.” Robert finished his synopsis.
“So, enters Mr. and Mrs. McKinnon, blissfully on their honeymoon and totally oblivious to the world going on around them.”
Robert nodded.
“All right, I see the advantages of sending me in as a tourist and with a woman to help retrieve our little girl. What about my backup? Who is it? It is a woman, right? I was just joking about the drag queen.”
Robert laughed ironically, shaking his head. He loved his brother, but there were times he really wondered about him.
Mason was mentally running through all the private sector agents, C.I.A. agents, and F.B.I. agents who he knew and would be of an age to pull this off. It was a very short list. The list was even shorter of those he would even remotely be able to pretend he was sexually attracted to enough to marry. Usually, the women who went into law enforcement generally were not beauty queens. Oh, he had seen some who were cute in a tomboy sort of way, but never had he seen a woman who was his type sporting a badge. Unless, of course, it was part of her costume.
“Mason, are you listening?” Robert asked as he leaned back in his desk chair and propped his feet on the corner of his desk. Mason gave him a questioning look. “My desk, my prerogative,” Robert was quick to point out the pecking order. He was still the older brother.
Mason conceded, “You have a point.”
“Yes, it is a woman and she is coming out of C.I.A. retirement. She is being reactivated as a field agent and her code name is Chameleon.”
That very agent had silently entered the office and was standing without a sound in the doorway, sporting a new style with soft, shoulder-length chestnut colored hair and a tan that set off her beautiful sky blue eyes. Robert managed not to let his shock register on his face.
She looked dazzling and just vampish enough that Mason would fall like a ton of bricks. Now, he saw and understood why she had earned her name of Chameleon while working for the C.I.A. She was a true master of disguise. He just wasn’t sure if this was a disguise or if this beauty had been hidden away behind a camouflage of plain and unremarkable. She had blended in so well that he never would have recognized this gorgeous bombshell if he had not been expecting her arrival.
It finally sunk in what Robert had said and Mason’s raised voice brought Robert’s eyes back to his brother.
“Retirement? Jesus, Robert. Are you going to make me a boy toy to a cougar?” Mason shot to his feet. “No. Screw that. I’ve done a lot for you and for this company, but even I have my limits, Robert. I’m not hard up for female company, and I do not want to go to Central America bad enough to slide up next to a hag. If I just cannot liv
e without seeing it again then I’ll take some vacation time.”
“Are you sure about this, Mason?” Robert felt underhanded, but really did not care at the moment. Mason was deserving of what he was about to get if he walked away from this assignment. Robert knew it would be dangerous, but the rewards potentially would be life-long if he could stay alive and not manage to get himself killed. Saving Jesse was just exactly what Mason needed to realize he needed to grow up. Family was important.
“Dead positive. I’m out of here. You can find me at the shooting range.”
He turned to leave and faced one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen standing provocatively against the door jam. Her blood-red cashmere sweater dipped off one shoulder, hugging ample breasts which in Mason’s expert opinion were by far her best assets. The black leather miniskirt showed toned slender thighs and a narrow waist. Her black boots were thigh-high and of the softest leather. Fishnet stockings completed the ensemble. She looked like she had just stepped out of a music video or was on her way to work at the closest gentleman’s club. Either way, he did not care.
She was hot.
“My wife?” Mason asked as he turned to look back over his shoulder at Robert.
He nodded in the affirmative.
“Robert, you are a freaking genius and I’ve reconsidered your charitable offer. Let the honeymoon begin.” He racked this beauty from head to foot and back again resting his gaze on her ample chest.
“Oh, this ought to be good,” Robert laughed quietly under his breath.
Robert began. “Do you Mason…”
“Damn right, I do!” Mason agreed before hearing all Robert was about to say.
“What about you?” Robert asked the woman standing at the door. “You game for this now that you have seen who and what you will be dealing with?”
“Of course she is game, Robert,” Mason answered for the exotic vixen. “Aren’t you? This will be one honeymoon we won’t soon forget.” He lowered his voice provocatively eyeing his prey. “That, my lady, is a promise.”