Authors: Samantha Cole
Ian nodded before wrapping his sub in the blanket and carrying her over to a large leather winged-back chair. He sat with her on his lap and let her ass hang over the side of his thigh so she wasn't too uncomfortable. After she took a few sips of water from the bottle someone had handed him, she cuddled into his chest as his strong arms held her. His heart squeezed when she looked up at him through swollen eyes and sighed. "Thank you, Master."
Four days later, Angie was at home and working on the cover for a new novel from Red Rose Books. The publishers had received the final drafts for Kristen's novel and her editor, Jillian, called Angie with high praise from her employers. They loved it and asked her to design the cover of another anticipated book from a different author. While she worked, she talked on her cell phone with her friend Mandy, who had called her all excited about a new guy she'd met. Angie had just finished centering the title where she wanted it when her doorbell rang, a little before two in the afternoon. Figuring it was her UPS man dropping off some new work for her, she clicked the save icon on her laptop and ended her call with Mandy.
Leaving her phone next to her computer, she got up to answer the door. When she looked out the oblong side window, she frowned when she saw two men dressed in off-the-rack suits. One man spotted her and held up a wallet sized folder which contained a badge and an ID which said ‘United States Drug Enforcement Administration’ in gold letters.
Panic assailed her. The only reason for someone from the DEA to be ringing her doorbell was if something happened to Jimmy. She punched the security code into the alarm panel, unlocked the doorknob and deadbolt before throwing open the door. "What happened? Where's Jimmy? Is he hurt?"
The shorter of the two men, who'd shown her his ID through the window, spoke in a calm but commanding voice. "Are you Ms. Angelina Beckett? May we come in to talk to you for a minute?"
"Yes, yes, please." She stepped back to allow them to walk into her home even though a warning bell began sounding in her brain. Ignoring it, she shut the door before spinning around to face them. "Please tell me what happened."
The two agents walked into her living room all while looking around. They seemed satisfied with what they did or did not see and again the shorter one spoke. "Ms. Beckett, I'm Agent Jackson and this is Agent Holstein with the Atlanta office of the DEA." The taller man with the stern face nodded at her but remained mute. "We've been instructed to take you into protective custody."
"Protective custody? Why? Who told you to do that?" The alarms in her brain were getting louder by the second.
"Agent Athos, otherwise known as Agent Austin, is worried about your safety. He thinks his cover has been blown and, like I said, he wants us to take you into protective custody and bring you to one of the DEA's safe-houses."
The warnings were now screaming at her. "Is that all he said?"
Both agents' eyes narrowed in confusion. The taller one seemed to be getting impatient but it was still the shorter one who spoke. "Isn't that enough?"
Shit!
She never should have let them in the house. Now she had to think of a way to get out of there in one piece. "Um, yes. I mean I thought maybe there was a specific threat or something." Angie jumped at the sound of a loud knock at her sliding glass door and looked to see who it was.
Oh, thank God.
Brody stood on her patio, curiosity and a bit of concern in his eyes as he looked at the two men in her living room and back to her. He motioned for her to unlock the door and she dashed toward it as Agent Jackson spat out, "Who the hell is that?"
She saw the man reach for his holstered gun out of the corner of her eye but was relieved when he didn't draw the weapon. Somehow she had to warn Brody something was terribly wrong. As she opened the slider she responded, hoping he would catch on fast to her dilemma. "Oh, this is my boyfriend, Brody. We've only been dating a few weeks. Brody, these men are from the DEA. This is Agent Jackson and I'm sorry I forgot your name."
The taller man spoke for the first time. "Agent Holstein and I'm sorry Ms. Beckett but we really have to get going. The sooner we get you to the safe-house the better."
Brody had obviously caught on because his arm went around her waist and he pulled her closer into his side. Although he acted calm and convincingly confused, she felt the tension rolling off him. She prayed he was good at the bodyguard thing he did for a living. When he spoke, he thickened his southern Texas drawl. "DEA agents? Safe-house? Darlin', what're these men all talkin' about?"
She played along, hoping they would get out of here alive. "I'm sorry, honey. I know we had plans for this weekend, but do you remember my best friend Jimmy who I told you about?" He was still looking at the other men but nodded, so she continued. "Well, what I didn't tell you was Jimmy is with the DEA and he does undercover work for them. Apparently they think his cover may be blown and I might be a target so they need to take me into protective custody."
"Really? Like in the movies?" Good Lord, the man could act 'aw-shucks' dumb when he needed to. And she was positive it was an act. "Well, if y'all have to keep my baby safe...can I go with her?"
It was Jackson who answered while his partner glowered at the new arrival. "I'm afraid not, sir. I promise we'll take good care of her for you. She'll only be gone a few days, a week at the most, until we can ascertain she's in no danger."
Brody shrugged his shoulders as if this entire scenario was no big deal. "All right, if you think it's best. Darlin', why don't I help you throw a few clothes in a bag and I'll say goodbye to you in private."
"We don't have time for that. We can get you some clothes and anything else you need once we have you safe."
Plastering on a fake pleading smile, Angie jumped at the opportunity to distance them from the two agents, if that was even who they were. All she did know was Jimmy hadn't sent them, and neither did his handler. "Oh, please. It'll only take a few moments to throw a few things into my duffel bag. I'd feel more comfortable with my own stuff. And I really want a minute to say goodbye to Brody. We'll be quick." She was halfway to her bedroom door with her boyfriend-for-the-minute in tow but stopped and grabbed her cell phone and laptop from her make-shift office desk against the wall in her dining area. "I'll just throw these in with my clothes so I can work while you guys are keeping me safe."
Both men looked beyond annoyed but Agent Jackson reluctantly nodded when she and Brody reached the entrance to her bedroom. The instant they were over the threshold, Brody grabbed her around the waist as he closed the door behind them and said loud enough to be overheard, "Com'ere baby-doll and give me some sugar. I love so much. I'm gonna miss you."
As soon as the door was shut, he quietly locked it and dragged her toward her bedroom sliding door which also led out to the lanai. She kept her voice to a whisper "I'm sorry, Brody, but I'm in big trouble. Jimmy didn't send them."
He glanced back at the alarm control panel next to the door leading to the living room, making sure he wasn't going to set off the alarm when he opened the slider. His Texas twang had faded, along with the volume of his voice, although there was still a hint of the drawl. "I kind of already understood that, darlin'."
He looked down and a bit of relief came over his face when he saw she had sneakers on. "As soon as I open the door, we're going to run through the backyards away from my place. I wish we could go get one of my guns but we’d have to pass by your living room. Head for the wooded area two houses down. From there, we'll cut through to the next street over. Ready?" She nodded anxiously but remained silent. "Here goes nothing."
He silently slid the door open and they took off across her other next door neighbor's yard, running as fast as they could...well, as fast as Angie could. They were almost at the second yard when they heard the agents kick in her bedroom door and as they reached the woods she heard one of them yell, "Hey! Fuck!"
Brody glanced over his shoulder but Angie kept running forward. Thankfully, a short distance in, the denser foliage provided them with more coverage. He weaved them through the vegetation and as they reached the clearing of another back yard, she heard someone crashing through the brush behind them followed by more cursing. Even though Brody was moving faster than she was, she urged him on. "Hurry, I hear them."
"This way." He tugged her arm and she almost lost her phone and laptop she was still clutching. They rounded the house and ran diagonally across the street past another dwelling into a backyard which had a wooden four-foot fence separating it from the rear parking lot of a small strip mall. As they approached the fence, Brody grabbed her by the waist and just about threw her over it, vaulting the barrier himself a second later. Angie was shocked she'd landed on her feet and still had her electronics in her hands. Thank goodness she ran three miles four times a week otherwise she would've passed out by now. As it was, her panic was making it hard for her to catch her breath.
Brody clasped his hand around her upper arm and took off running again. As they came around the side of the building, she stumbled but his grip kept her from falling. When they reached the sidewalk, he turned right and kept sprinting as he hauled her past stores and businesses. She had no idea if they were still being followed and she didn't dare look. He, on the other hand, glanced back several times but didn't slow them down. One block over, he pivoted and hustled them across the street into the parking lot of another strip mall. She realized he had a plan in mind and her thoughts were confirmed when he ran up to the door of a restaurant named Donovan's. Vaguely she remembered Jenn worked here and Jake's brother owned the pub. Throwing the door open, Brody dragged her inside, slowing but not stopping as he hurried her down the length of the bar and barked at the startled bartender. "Mike, call Ian. Tell him 'code red'. If you can't get him, call Jake or Devon. If two guys in suits come in claiming to be feds, call 911."
Mike, whoever he was, apparently knew what Brody was talking about because he threw down the rag he'd been using to wipe down the bar and snatched up the phone behind him. Brody still didn't stop moving and led her down a hallway past the bar's restrooms and into a room marked 'Private'. He pulled her into the office, shut the door and locked it. Finally, they came to a complete stop and she was gasping for air. She was a little pissed he wasn't even breathing heavy, as if running four or five blocks on a zig-zag course while someone was chasing them was an everyday occurrence.
"What...what if...they come in here?" She got the words out in between gulps of air. Her heart was pounding in her brain, her lungs on fire and if they were found, she didn't think she could run another step.
Brody took her phone from her hand, opened the back of it and ripped out the battery and SIM card, putting everything into the pocket of his sweatpants. He walked over to two safes which were bolted to the floor underneath the paper-laden desk. Placing his middle finger on a scanner on the face of one of them, he waited three seconds and the door clicked open. Reaching in, he pulled out a holstered Sig Sauer 9mm pistol, checked to see the magazine was filled to capacity with brass tipped bullets then shut the safe door. He clipped the re-holstered weapon to the back of his sweatpants which ended up pulling them further down on his hips with the heavy weight of it.
Angie wasn’t afraid of the weapon, in fact she was glad he now had one. “You’ve obviously planned for situations like this, huh?”
“When we first started Trident, the team came up with a bunch of emergency plans. Never had to use one from my own place before but I’m happy to know they work.” He saw her glance nervously at the office door. “We lost them a while back so we're safe until Ian gets here. When he does we'll go out the back and get in his car.”
She looked where he pointed and saw another door she assumed led to an alley or lot behind them. "Why did you come over, anyway?" It wasn't unusual for him to stop by in the morning or evening but not in the middle of the afternoon. "I'm not complaining, mind you."
There was a sharp single knock on the door they'd come in through and Angie jumped but Brody held up his hand to calm her. The door didn't open but she heard a male voice say, "Ian's six minutes out. He'll honk twice. Seems to be all clear out front."
Brody responded with a single knock of his own on the wooden door before turning around to face her again. "I was working late last night so I took today off. I was heading out for a run when I saw the strange car in your driveway with government plates. I went around back to check on you, not wanting to interrupt if you didn't need me. But when I saw your face, I knew something wasn't right. By the way, you did phenomenal. You stayed calm, helped me figure out something was wrong and acted like a pro. You ever think about becoming an actress?"
She didn't answer him. Something about what he'd said made her think he wasn't being one-hundred percent truthful with her but at this point it didn't matter. She needed his and Ian's help to get her to the storage unit where her emergency vehicle, money, fake ID's, and two bags full of clothes and other necessities were kept. After that, she could get out of town and follow the orders Jimmy had drilled into her over the years.
On the first of every month she drove around Tampa on lesser used roads with no set pattern. Once she was sure she wasn't being followed, she'd head to the storage unit rented under a fictitious name and checked on everything. With the outside unit's door open, she'd start up the old Chevy Nova's souped up engine and let it run for a few minutes to ensure the batteries stayed charged. Then she’d turn it off again and lock the unit back up until the first of the next month when she did the whole routine again. Every six months she drove the car out and took it for an oil change and a tune up. She'd always thought the whole process was a little too much James Bond-ish but now she was grateful she'd followed Jimmy's instructions to the letter.