Fixed Asset (Downrange), page 12
“Explain why you sent Catarina to Honduras to find Berta and give her bogus intel,” Jack demanded.
“Because I need her expertise to find a woman for me, and she needs access to Berta’s network.”
From across the room Jack made a strangled noise, clearly not pleased with Tom’s request.
“Cut the shit, Tom. You said you needed all of us in the room for this conversation. Not just me and Berta. And if that was the case, you could’ve told me that in Virginia. This isn’t about me or Berta. It’s about Pete and his men. Spit it out already.”
Pete stopped his lips from twitching, but just barely. Catarina Keys was something else. She reminded him of his sister, but more ballsy. Jack was a lucky man.
“I need Saint and his team to go back to Juárez with you.”
“Who is this woman?” Mason asked.
“Calista Ventura.”
“Dios mío.”
Everyone’s attention went to Berta. The woman looked ravaged.
“How long, Tom?” Berta seethed.
“Three weeks.”
“And you did not call me. Instead you . . .” One of Berta’s hands came up and swept the room. “Set this up.”
“I can’t have any involvement in this, Berta. None. If the CIA knows I’ve breathed a word of this, I’ll be prosecuted for treason.”
Treason?
“Why doesn’t the CIA want this woman to be saved?”
Tom looked uncomfortable for a moment before he said, “Because she’s an enemy of the state.”
Well, that didn’t mean shit to Pete. If the government knew what he and the team did, they’d consider them felons. There was this gray area where the real world happened. The place where good people did bad things for the right reasons.
“What’s she accused of?” Fallon joined in.
“Murder.”
Again, that meant nothing; murder was up for interpretation. The deceased was not always the victim.
“Who did she murder?” Pete took over the questioning again.
“A senator’s aide.” Tom paused, then under his breath mumbled, “And two other men.”
Well, shit on a shingle.
“If she’s wanted for the murder of three men, why are you helping her?”
Tom seemed to be considering his options.
Berta had obviously grown impatient. “Calista is a brave woman. Young, still learning how to be patient and when it’s time to strike. Many years ago, her older sister was taken. Her family searched and searched. Years passed but she never gave up hope. Then her sister was found overdosed in Berlin.”
“She was trafficked,” Catarina noted.
“Yes. Calista has made it her mission to bring awareness but also to rescue and return victims home. Much like what Saint here does. These women need a champion, a savior, and she has a beautiful soul, so she’s decided that savior will be her. She reminds me of you, Catarina. Mia too. Brave. Strong. But not as smart. She wants to save the world, not just those she can.
“I have counseled her and warned her; if she continues on her path, she will drive herself mad. But for her, they are all her sister, someone’s sister, possibly someone’s mother, and she cannot see past it. I also warned her to be careful in Juárez. She wasn’t ready for the danger that lurks there, the evil. They are devils preying on the weak.”
Pete didn’t have to look at Catarina to know she was all in to rescue this woman. The same as he didn’t need to look at Jack to know the man was in danger of a stroke.
Berta made her position known. “You may use any and all of my resources to find her.” She stopped and scooted to the edge of her chair. “But hear me, Mr. Washington, this is your only warning. Don’t ever play games with me again. And don’t ever set a young woman in harm’s way to get my attention. Yes, I got word there was a brown-haired, doe-eyed American who was ripe. Yes, I had my people in Tegucigalpa trying to find her before she got hurt. But anything can happen, and she could’ve gotten hurt. There are other ways to get what you want. Never again, or our arrangement is over.”
Tom looked properly chastised but not sorry.
“Why is Calista so important to you you’d risk your freedom, Catarina’s life, and Berta’s censure? Not to mention, drag me and my team into this?”
“Her father saved my life.”
Pete studied the man. That might’ve been true, but there was more to it.
“We can sit here all day and play this game; it’s not someone I care about in the hands of a madman,” Pete said. “Or you can stop wasting my fucking time and tell the truth.”
“That’s the truth,” Tom lied.
When no one spoke, Tom looked at Catarina.
“After you left the Marshals Service and became a free agent, I looked into you and your last op. I knew about Las Vegas. I knew you had a connection to Jack, and I knew Jack worked with Pete. I knew what happened in Juárez, and that Mason would be all in to take Rafael’s cousin down once he learned of Carlos’s interest in Mia. If Mason’s in, Pete will have his back, and I’d have an off-the-books team to rescue a woman I care a great deal about. I used you to get to them and Berta. I’d apologize for that but I’m not sorry. I’d do anything, including betraying my oath, to save Calista.”
“You’re a fucking dick,” Jack growled.
“I’m more than that, Jack. But right now, I’m a man desperate to save a woman.”
Goddamnit.
Pete knew what was coming before it happened.
“I’m in,” Mason readily agreed.
Tom had been right; Mason was all in. If he couldn’t get his hands on Rafael, the cousin of the man who’d threatened the violation and murder of Mia would do.
Pete had come to understand his own demons and how to tame them.
Mason had no interest in taming the beast within.
This was going to get messy.
Chapter Sixteen
The beast had been unleashed.
And it wasn’t my Jack who looked murderous; it was Mason.
The sight was frightening.
The vibe in the room was inching toward nuclear, and I wasn’t sure how to cool it off before it blew.
“Do you know where she’s being held?” Pete asked.
He was off too. There was an edge to him that ratcheted up his intensity tenfold. And whoever this Rafael Quintero was, he seriously tweaked Pete and Mason both. Pete had said he was dead, but clearly his ghost still haunted both men.
“Why’d you wait three weeks?” Fallon inquired.
Tom blew out a breath and almost looked human, and not like the conniving, manipulating bastard he was.
“As Berta explained, she’s on a mission to save the world. Sometimes I don’t hear from her for months. And before you ask why I haven’t stopped this insanity, there’s no stopping Calista when she sets her mind to something. Before her father died, he tried. Her mother worries, but after they lost Liliya, she became emotionally unavailable.”
“Is that a nice way of saying the mother’s checked out?” Fallon stopped Tom to ask.
“Completely and totally,” Tom clarified.
“If you don’t hear from her often, how do you know she’s been taken?” Pete asked.
“I have a source in Juárez. He’s not always reliable. But he tells me there’s an auction, and among the women there’s a Russian.”
“She’s Russian,” Fallon spat, like the word tasted bad. No, scratch that, Fallon was staring at Mason with a brow lifted. Maybe it wasn’t dislike; maybe it was something else that had Fallon forcefully saying the word.
“By blood. Her father’s Irish American, her mother is Russian. But you could say the Russian in her overpowers the Irish or the American genes her father gave her.”
“That explains a lot,” Jack muttered, and my eyes shifted to him. “You ever get on a Russian’s bad side?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Then you haven’t. You wouldn’t have to think, you’d know. I knew this Russian kid in school. We were in like seventh grade. Some assholes picked on him, mostly trash talk, but one of them tagged up his locker. This kid said nothing. Did nothing. Years later, we’re seniors, the kid’s now six foot, and I swear he worked out every day since the locker incident. He was huge. He waited, found his time, then beat the hell out of the boy who messed with his stuff. Right before he knocked him out, the kid said something about his locker being vandalized. Four years he held that grudge. If you can avoid it, never piss off a Russian.”
“Truth,” Fallon chimed in.
“So this auction.” Pete brought the conversation back around. “When and where is it taking place?”
“According to my source, a week. Again, he can be unreliable. As to the where, Juárez. He doesn’t have a location.”
“Anything on the buyers?” Berta asked.
“Just murmurs the final destination is Dubai.”
Berta made a disgruntled humming sound.
Dubai was a hotspot for prostitution. More, it was a hotbed for trafficking—buying and selling of women to rich and powerful men from around the world.
“Is she pretty?”
Mason’s question had Berta’s shoulders snapping back. “Why does that matter?”
Mason softened his features and injected a healthy dose of respect when he answered Berta.
“Because a beautiful Russian woman would attract a certain type of buyer, especially if they’re going to Dubai. Anyone in the trade would know this. There are those who want to buy women for their stables to rent, and there are those who want to own a harem of beautiful women. Two different types of animal.”
“Calista’s mother was a model in Russia. She’s a very beautiful woman, and Calista and her sister inherited those looks. Calista resembles the model Kate Grigorieva, or so her father used to say.”
I didn’t know who Kate Grigorieva was. I looked around the room, hoping someone would offer some insight. No one did, at least not verbally, but Fallon was staring at Mason again.
“Then she won’t make it to auction,” Mason announced. “Her pictures would’ve been sent out. A private buyer will come inspect her and buy her before the rest of the girls get sold.”
“Mason’s right,” Pete concluded. “We need to get home and prepare an extraction before she’s moved—if she hasn’t been already. And we need to make arrangements to get the other women out and someplace safe.”
“El Paso’s full,” Mason returned.
“I have an idea,” Pete said, then turned to Tom. “You owe me a marker. You also owe Catarina one. Or you can owe me two, and I’ll talk her man outta kicking your ass the next time he sees you. And I want .223, .308. and 9mil ammo delivered to my place in Jamul. Enough for six shooters.”
“Done,” Tom quickly answered while staring at Jack. “One day you’ll understand why I did this. You should also know Catarina was never in any danger. She had a man on her at all times until she met up with you. Then I knew she was covered and pulled him back.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Jack muttered.
Something hit me.
“I cut the tracking device out of my hip. How’d you find us?”
“Your burners. There are trackers in those too.”
Son of a bitch.
I had three burner phones in my backpack.
I glanced at Pete. “Oops?” I offered.
Total rookie mistake. I’d led Tom directly to us.
“Yeah, Catarina, oops,” he returned dryly.
Tom stood, looked around the room, didn’t offer handshakes or any gesture of the kind, but he did pause on Berta with a thoughtful gaze.
“Everyone is safe?”
“Indeed,” Berta returned.
Tom declined his chin. “Thank you.”
Why in the world was Tom thanking Berta?
I didn’t get a chance to question Tom before he swiftly made his exit.
Then it was Berta and her men who were on their feet, looking impatient to leave.
“Here, lovely.” Berta held out her Desert Eagle to me.
“Berta, I can’t accept that. It’s too much.”
“My gratitude for your help.”
Well, shit. I couldn’t say no to that without being rude.
“I’ll take good care of her,” I promised.
Berta leaned in close and quietly told me, “You don’t take care of her. She will take care of you. Use her wisely with the purest of intentions and think of me every time you pull the trigger.”
This woman was something else. The Angel of Death with a kind spirit and heart.
“I’ll never forget you.”
“We’ll see each other again, Catarina.”
I hoped she was right.
Berta and her men left. Ryan and Aiden came back into the house and were briefed.
Pete was no less on edge when he mentioned Rafael’s name. Fallon and Jack had also picked up on it, but it was Fallon who questioned it.
“What really happened in Juárez?”
“That’s not for now.” Pete brushed him off.
“Brother—”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t discuss it. I said not for now.”
I’d never heard Pete use such a harsh tone. Whatever it was, he seriously wasn’t ready to discuss it.
“Okay.” Fallon gave in. “Should I call Shep and get us an earlier flight?”
Pete sighed and came back to the man I was getting to know. “I was a dick. That wasn’t right. My apologies. I just . . . just give me until we’re home. I need to be on the mountain when I tell everyone. And Gavin needs to be there.”
Yes, Gavin. The last man on the team I hadn’t met.
Pete had explained that the men rotate out for missions so someone is always in San Diego to watch over the Dirty Plank. I wondered if Jack and I would rotate out—even though neither of us had anything to do with the bar.
“No worries.” Fallon quickly accepted Pete’s apology. “We’ll talk when we get home.”
Mason had been unusually quiet.
“What’s going on?” I knocked his knee with mine.
“Nothing. The last two days are just catching up with me.”
I didn’t think that was the truth. Mason seemed to be the type who could keep going until the job was done. But I wasn’t going to push.
Jack came up next to me and held out a bottle of water.
“Thanks.”
I cracked the top and had the bottle to my lips when Mason mumbled, “That’s it?”
Without lowering the bottle, I asked, “What?”
“I just gave you a bullshit blow-off.”
“I know.”
I chugged half the water and was recapping the bottle when Mason continued, “And that’s it? No wheedling, no snit because I don’t want to talk, no calling bullshit?”
Wordlessly, Jack moved away from me and Mason.
“Is that what you need?”
“Need?”
“To open up, say what you really mean,” I explained. “Do you need me to wheedle and nag until you tell me what’s on your mind? Or do you need me to give you space and time to learn to trust me, then when you’re ready, you’ll feel like you can tell me the truth instead of giving me some lame, bitch-ass ‘I’m tired’ when I know that if bullets started flying, you’d be wide awake and on your A game?”
When I was done, Mason was staring at me like I was a new breed of alien that had never been discovered and had been beamed down to Earth for him and him alone to discover. Either that, or he was staring at me like I was a pain in the ass who talked too much.
I wasn’t sure, because Mason’s expression didn’t give away much.
“I trust you.”
He didn’t.
I raised an eyebrow.
“I trust you enough,” he repeated with a variation.
“Enough to have your back in a gunfight but not enough to tell me why you’re sitting here brooding.”
“Pete is broody. I plot.”
“Okay. So not enough to tell me what you’re plotting.”
He was quiet for a second, his gaze firmly on Pete’s back across the room.
“One day Pete’s going to tell you about Mexico . . . and what happened after I got there. After you hear the story, maybe you’ll understand, maybe you won’t, and you’ll see me for the monster that I am.”
I didn’t like how Mason was starting this justification of his plot. Not because I was worried what he might say, but because I didn’t like that he thought of himself as a monster.
“I’m going to kill every single one of those men who’re there to sell those girls.”
“That’s the plan, Mase. We’re going in to rescue the girls.”
“No, Kitty, that’s your plan . . . rescue the girls. Mine is to make sure that none of those animals are left breathing.”
I didn’t know what Mason was expecting me to say, so I said nothing.
“You don’t look disgusted.”
“You think I should be disgusted because you feel no guilt taking the lives of men who rape and sell women? Do you think I should feel guilt over the lives lost last night, while I was in that house protecting those women in the bunker? One second I was cuddling a baby, the next I’ve got my weapon in my hand, then three minutes later, I’m killing bad guys. Are you disgusted that I slept last night? Didn’t miss a wink, all warm and comfy. No thoughts of the bodies we left piled up.”
Mason’s lips curved up into a smile. “So that’s why you were up bright and early having a dance party in your room.”
I felt heat hit my cheeks. Mason heard—damn. I searched my feelings and found I didn’t care, and shrugged.
After a moment of silence, he bumped my knee with his.
“Thanks, girl.”
I couldn’t contain my snort. “Anytime, boy.”
Mason shut down his brooding—I didn’t care what he’d said, he was totally brooding—and switched back into his cocky, playful mask.
