by TL Reeve
She nodded; well aware he attempted to downplay his division’s resources. Could he tell she’d been envious? She, more than anyone, was aware of Mexico’s issues and lack of funding for what was needed, but she didn’t want anyone’s pity. Instead of vomiting up disdain for the corruption in her government, she took a seat next to Murray “Why is this GPR so important?”
His fingers flew across the keyboard in front of him until only the murky images were on the big screen. “GPR shows details unseen by the naked eye.” A dark circle appeared under what looked like the main building. “Or like here.” The screen flashed, changing again only this time showing a large area where there had to be at least a hundred or more disturbances.
“Are those—”
“Graves,” he stated, his tone devoid of any emotion. “There is a total of one hundred and twenty of them.”
“Hijo de puta!” What if they were doing this all for nothing? Christian could already be dead.
“He’s not.”
Jaqueline flinched when she realized she gave voice to her dark thoughts. She hung her head in defeat. "You can't be sure. No one can say for certainty—" She swallowed hard.
Murray put his arm around her shoulder, tucking her against his wide, warm chest. His voice rumbled in his chest while his breath caressed her cheek. “You’re right, we don’t. All we have is hope. If your brother has passed, I’m certain he’d want you to continue the fight to free those who remain alive and suffering.”
She brushed a single tear from her cheek. He was right. Christian would want her to help those remaining behind, who couldn’t help themselves. “How did you do this for ten years? I feel as though any moment I’ll go insane.”
“Time. My job. Finding people who understood me and would do whatever it took to help me.” He sat back so he could look down at her. “Every day is a challenge. It’s only made easier knowing you have friends out there to prop you up when you need it most.”
She glanced away. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” Murray pointed at the screen, drawing her attention back to the mission. “Asher is already preparing our base to receive those bodies. Top forensic doctors will work around the clock to identify and return those remains to the grieving families.”
“I am sure, the families will be extremely grateful.” No matter the outcome for the families of the missing, having answers would help allow them to gain some type of closure and peace. “Is this technology expensive?”
Murray gave her a sheepish look. “To be honest, I’ve never priced one out. We’ve always just used the UAV. Like anything, I suspect there is a range, depending on the quality of the device.”
Made sense.
Jaqueline squinted at the images again. She’d seen things like this before. It just wasn’t her forte. She could fire a rifle, a pistol or any other weapon with deadly accuracy. She was also trained in mixed martial arts and was deadly with a knife. Computers were used to check email and for social media—which she didn’t have. The technology Murray used was something richer countries had at their fingertips, allowing them to train with it whenever the mood struck. However, computers and technology like Murray’s would never replace being on the streets in the thick of it, learning from the community. It’s how trust was built and kept when it came to law enforcement and support, something that had been lacking for years now.
Jaqueline waved her hand at the screen. “You can read this, yes?”
Murray nodded. “Our mutual acquaintance, Tex, was able to locate the original blueprints on the building.”
“Unless they’ve changed the interior.” She squinted at the screen as though she’d been attempting to discern her brother in one of the red dots.
"We've already been able to identify slight modifications to the original plans. Between me and another team member at the base, in a couple hours or more, we'll be able to have computer-generated, real-time images of the interior along with a layout of doors, rooms, and hallways to aid us when we finally make entry."
“Impressive.”
“That’s what she said,” he teased.
“I wouldn’t know yet, Murray. I haven’t seen the goods yet.” She tilted her ass. “But you must do enough squats to get a, what’s it called, bubble butt.” Jaqueline enjoyed the deep, hearty sound of his laughter. It lightened the mood and the last remaining tension in her neck completely eased.
“All you have to do is ask, Mistress. It would be my pleasure to reveal my spectacular goods.” His wink held mischief and dangerous intentions.
Jaqueline wanted to laugh, something she'd rarely done since everything went to hell and her brother was taken. Instead, she rolled her eyes and gave a dramatic sigh, as though put out by the idea of seeing the 'goods.' "Why is it, all men assume their dicks are amazing."
He shrugged. “Because mine is. I’ll prove it whenever you want it.”
“How about we get off the topic of your dick and get back the job at hand.” She gestured to the wall where the monitor was located.
“I’ve got my program running in the background. I’ve been double-checking Hank’s observations.”
“Hank?”
Murray scratched at his chin. “A counterpart of mine at R.O.O.T. Asher pulled him from another team to work on this.”
“I’m sure Hank, absolutely loves the fact that you’re looking over his shoulder.”
Murray snorted. “I could give a fuck what Hank thinks or feels. I earned my place on the best team within R.O.O.T for a reason. I’m the best at what I do.”
“Cocky,” she said.
“R.O.O.T psychologist says I’m simply self-assured.” He grinned. “Rules are rules though, Jaq, in here we’re all about the task at hand.”
“Agreed.” She glanced at the screen, getting back to work. “What is that?”
There were a few photographs she didn’t recognize because they appeared to be taken from the air. The only way to get a bird’s eye view of the building was with a drone. Something like that would cost money and she also knew the Mexican government wouldn’t be giving their permission so easily.
"Images from a government satellite Asher got permission for us to use. I re-positioned it the other day. It's being monitored 24/7 at R.O.O.T and I'm sent images of interest. Think of it as the Hubble Telescope. It's up in space, but can photograph a flea farting on the ass of a dog."
“Then you can see faces and people with it?”
He glanced at her. "Theoretically, yes." Hope rose in her chest and just as quickly he popped it like a balloon. "People don't tend to look up when they're walking or getting out of a car unless they see something, and it spiked their interests. Getting a full facial shot is hard."
“Partials?” Jaqueline tried to keep her emotions in check. All she needed was a partial and she’d be able to tell if her brother was alive or buried in one of those unmarked graves.
“Sometimes we get lucky. Most times it shot of their head, hands or arms. We can identify perps from tattoo’s if they have them or other distinguishing marks, but honestly, it’s a crapshoot.”
Jaqueline gulped. “I’d like to see those images with people on it.”
“Jaq—”
“I need to know, Murray,” she whispered.
"Of all the people working on this case, I understand your need better than anyone else. It's why I can say this to you without issue. The chances of us receiving a photo of him or you seeing him, outside are almost nil."
Murray hit a couple of buttons on his keyboard, and even with his warning, Jaqueline saw new images replacing what he was working on.
“You’ve gone through all of these?” she asked after she stood up, to get a closer look.
“Not yet. Hank sent the file over this morning.”
"Hannah would be easier to pick out." She scanned the first half dozen images on the screen. Checking the updates would have been her priority. Things change. People get restless. For all they knew, Raul gave them yard time or som
ething. Though the chances were slim, she'd take it over not having anything.
“Yeah, she would be,” he said before handing her a little black clicker. “Click on it, to load the next six.”
Jaqueline wasn’t surprised when he went back to the smaller monitor attached to the heavy-duty laptop, he’d brought with him. She sat there for a minute mesmerized by his efficiency and speed. Of course, as he said, he had experience doing a job like this. She on the other hadn't. She scrolled through the images for the last half hour when she finally saw it. A wheelchair.
“Murray, look!” Jaqueline pointed to the image on the screen.
Murray glanced up, his fingers still pounding away at the keys. In a flash, the photo disappeared, and the screen went black. "No. What did you do?"
"Relax." The image downloaded slowly, a bit clearer and more enhanced. "Now, what did you see?" He stood beside her. The warmth of his big body provided a sense of security she hadn't had in a long time. If she was honest with herself, the only time she felt protected was when she'd been a child. As an adult, she knew the risks of joining the all-women special forces unit, but in hindsight, she'd been searching for the security she was missing.
“That!” She pointed to the corner of the picture where the glint of metal shown and the curved arch of a shadow. It had to be a wheelchair. “Can you zoom in?”
He snorted. “Of course.” He removed the clicker from the tight grip of her fingers and then went back to his computer. After a few keystrokes, the images moved, becoming grainer.
She made a sound of frustration when the picture blurred out. “Now you can’t see anything.”
“Give it a second, the computer is working on it right now,” he said.
The screen went black again, and seconds later the image returned, this time zoomed in and narrowed to the section she’d been staring at. “Is that what I think it is?” She’d rather have him figure it out than tell him.
“It’s a wheelchair,” he confirmed.
“With a girl in it.” With the new image, you could see the length of the hair, and make out a hint of breasts under the dark shirt on the black and white image. “It’s Hannah.”
Murray sighed as he shifted out of his chair. “Being what the Emporium is, it could be anyone.”
Jaqueline tsked him. “If we can see Hannah, maybe…”
“We don’t know if it is my sister, Jaq. There could be a dozen girls in wheelchairs, in that shit hole.”
True, but one had to have hope.
Hope was what got her through each day since her brother disappeared even when the walls felt like they were closing in. She didn’t know how Murray could so easily dismiss the obvious. “Are there other pictures like this one?” She’d been determined to give him something he could latch onto. Instead, he ignored her. She cut her gaze in his direction and saw the furry within his features. He said the right words about his sister, but could they only be words?
“Could be.” He pulled his chair up and took a seat. “Give me a second.”
Another six pictures flashed up on the screen, they were a continuation of the last one. All six showed basically the same thing, only the person beside the wheelchair was moving closer to the building.
“They let her out,” she muttered. “Doesn’t make sense. They don’t let anyone out.”
“A person in the wheelchair isn’t a threat. They can’t run.”
Jaqueline nodded. Her gaze flickered from the screen to Murray’s face. It was only then she saw the longing and pain reflected in his blue eyes as he looked up at the monitor. She kicked herself for the doubt in her mind then kicked herself again for allowing her emotions to take over. She thought... Shit, she didn’t know what she thought. Maybe their little exercise had done more harm than good.
“Murray—”
“Emotion isn’t always a good thing, Jaq. They’ll get you killed.”
Jaqueline understood the sentiment all too well. Hers cost someone their life and she never forgave herself for it. It had happened during a posting with the Special Forces. She had joined because she had believed in what they were doing, hoping that they were there to help the people of Mexico. Most were, but like anything else in her country, corruption ran rampant and when she had been re-assigned to a new Commander. On her third mission with her team, they’d been ambushed. No one but her superior and her team knew about it, so when they were surrounded, not only had the team been betrayed, so had she. It also meant disobeying a direct order from her superior officer. Had she not, so many more would have died. In the end, her parents dying had been the perfect reason to leave a job she loved.
Unfortunately, when her brother went missing, all of those old memories of being stuck in a small village, being told to look the other way, roared back to life. She wouldn't apologize for her determination to free every last person inside that fucked-up building. She also wouldn't apologize for wanting to give the man sitting next to her hope. He used his charm and good looks to keep people at arm’s length and in doing so, turned him into a surly asshole.
“I’m well aware of what happens when emotions get involved.” She snorted. “Or are you deliberately being obtuse?”
He scrubbed his face. “Neither. Look, this is sensitive. If we go in guns blazing, we’ll get ourselves killed and our good intentions will be for not. Fuck knows what would happen if we went in there and kidnapped our siblings. Raul might take it out on the others or worse, kill them all and run because he’d been found.”
He had a point. She didn’t agree with it, but she understood where he was coming from. “He’s not afraid enough to run. He’s a cocky bastard.”
“Regardless,” Murray stated. “We have to do this a step at a time.”
“We’re wasting time.”
Murray stood. "My sister is in there. She's been there for ten years. She is my priority."
“And Christian is mine.”
“Running headlong into the fire will get us both killed. It will get both of them killed.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re a do first worry about the consequences later. I’m not. I’m the kind of guy who plans everything to the minutest of details because something always goes wrong, even when it should go right. Believe me, when I say, this will backfire on us if we go storming through the doors."
“So, we sit here and do nothing?” She shot out of her chair and began to pace the small space. “You have your fancy equipment and your technology, and you take all your pictures while our siblings suffer.”
“Goddammit Jaq, listen to me. I hate this too. But we stick to the plan. We get as much information about the building as we can, and we stick to the auction.” Murray grabbed his laptop and headed for the stairs. “I know nothing I am telling you right now is sinking in, because you’re fucking gung ho about your brother, but have you stopped to think about my feelings and how helpless I am at this moment too?”
She jerked. “Yeah right. You? Feel helpless? Sure.” His words hit her square in the face. Each one of them. As much as she tried to tell herself she was concerned about Hannah, her thoughts landed solely on her brother who’d be scared and anxious and not understand a bit of what was going on.
“Believe what you want about me.” He stomped up the stairs and exited her personal C&C.
She slumped back into her chair and blew out a breath. “What did I do?” When she glanced up, the single still shot of the wheelchair was still visible on the screen. She stared at it. Murray was right, there might be several people in the club who were confined to wheelchairs, however, she could also tell there was a difference to it.
Things Murray wouldn’t notice.
Things people with money wouldn’t notice.
A good majority of those confined to a wheelchair in Mexico had shitty hand-me-downs. Most were decommissioned from hospitals around the area. Others had been fished out of landfills because people were desperate for them for whatever reason. This one though... This person’s chair was high tech.
It appeared to be ergonomic. It was made to fit a person, not just get them from point a to point b. It also had modifications she’d never seen before, nor understood. No, she’d been right when she said the wheelchair belonged to Hannah. Convincing Murray, however, would be another thing.
Because he kept his hope levels low.
She had to fix this. If they continued to argue about what they should be doing instead of focusing on the operation, it wouldn’t matter who was right, they’d fail. She stood and exited the room. When she cleared the floor, she glanced around and found the kitchen empty. She closed the trap door behind her and went outside. In the time Murray had been with her, he spent a lot of time near the pasture, staring off toward where the cattle roamed. He’d also taken to feeding the cows in the morning with the help Jaqueline kept on the payroll after her father and mother passed away.
Murray wasn’t a ranch kind of guy, yet he threw himself into it, kind of like he did everything else. He had a certain amount of tenacity to him. He didn’t give up easily. It’d been why she was upset. He gave up when it came to looking at those pictures of his sister.
As she came around the corner of her house, she found him staring off toward Juarez. If he heard her approaching him, he didn’t indicate it. His features were so expressive. Raw pain slashed across his face. His blue eyes were too bright. His mouth was compressed into a thin line. His brows were furrowed.
“Hey.” She gave him space.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah?”
“Nothing.” The awkward tension building between them snapped into place when she stared at his back. It shouldn’t be this hard to have a conversation with him. “I, uh...”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he stated. “We’re after different things. We’re doing this for different outcomes.”
“Terco,” she sighed. “All of this isn’t on you.”
He glanced over his shoulder. "I am when my partner wants to run headlong into danger."
Ouch. “I heard you the first time.”