Personal Target: An Elite Ops Novel (7 page)

Nick called Gavin’s cell to tell him they’d landed, but when his boss didn’t pick up, Nick followed AEGIS protocol and rolled his message to the main office voice mail system. Next he phoned Hosea Alvarez on the road to Tenancingo. Leland’s CI answered on the third ring, and Nick stated the pre-arranged code.

“I received your number from ‘a friend in Texas.’”

Alvarez hacked a smoker’s cough before speaking. “I don’t have much time. You have the address?”

“Yes,” said Nick.

“You’ll be a walk-in. It’s a ‘Saturday Night Special.’”

Nick’s throat narrowed. He had no idea what to say other than, “How market savvy.”

Alvarez’s laugh was hoarse and gravelly at the same time. “They are out to make money. I’ve put you in the appointment book.” Nick pictured a large book like doctors used before computers and electronic planners. Alvarez kept talking: “You’ll meet with Monique or Tomas first. I’ve told them you’re a dealer out of Chicago who was arrested in Texas. We met in Huntsville. You’re recently released and looking to expand your reach in the Midwest. They’ll roll out the red carpet because you’re planning to move a lot of product. Your name is Nathan Fisk. They’ll make sure you get everything you ask for.”

“How deep does the cover go?” asked Nick.

“Deep enough. Nathan was a cellmate at Huntsville. He got out a couple of weeks ago and is setting up shop again.”

“And you know this how?” asked Nick.

“He called and asked me for an introduction. I put him off. The story should hold up long enough for this to work.”

Nick swallowed and hoped to hell the real Nathan Fisk didn’t have any other friends in Tenancingo.

Alvarez continued. “I’ve told them your preference is for a white woman who’s not ‘broken in’ to this yet. You’ll probably be allowed to choose your own. If it goes as expected, you should end up with your sister-in-law.”

Nick cringed at that mental picture. “Can you let her know what’s happening?”

“I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee it. I don’t know that I’ll be able to see her before you arrive.”

“How early can we be there?” asked Nick.

“Any time. They’re open round the clock.”

“I’ll text you when we are on the way. It should be within the hour.”

“Excellent. As long as you remember your cover, everything will be fine,” said Alvarez.

Nick wasn’t so sure about that last statement, but at least they had a plan. After they found Jennifer, Hollywood would create a distraction and they’d get out. There were some holes in their plot, but it was a start.

Nick and Bryan arrived in Tenancingo in record time. Both men were dusty and dirty after the drive from the airstrip in the open-air vehicle. True to Leland’s description, the place looked exactly as the former DEA agent had said it would: a typical Mexican town until you got to the side streets with the outrageous architecture and outlandish landscaping.

They found a hotel and checked in. Nick took a quick shower to wash off the road dust and dressed in the jeans and the button-down shirt he’d packed. He needed to look like a businessman, not a soldier, when he arrived at the brothel.

Bryan was coming with him. With his cover story, it would make sense for Nick to bring security. They didn’t check out of the hotel but brought their luggage back downstairs with them. The lobby was deserted, even though it was Saturday night. Nick texted Alvarez as they drove through the darkened streets of Tenancingo to
Calle Pino
.

It was close to midnight, but the house was lit with a jaw-dropping number of white Christmas lights. A surreal scene, the architecture was equally outrageous with an outlandish mix of Asian pagodas, gingerbread trim, and a hedge that looked like dolphins rising up out of the water. The dolphins blinked off and on in time to the Christmas carols blaring from a hidden speaker in the front yard.

Bryan parked in front on the street. Together they went to the door, rang the bell, introduced themselves, and were admitted by a heavily armed man. An attractive older woman introduced herself as Monique and showed them into an opulent sitting room before offering them both drinks.

Monique apologized for Tomas Rivera’s no longer being in residence as an urgent business matter had called him away. “Tomas should be back by tomorrow morning and asks if you can talk then? In the meantime, he’d like you to avail yourself of the pleasures we offer here.”

Nick shrugged and smiled. “I could do that.”

Monique nodded. “Excellent. We’ll be showing you the women you can choose from through a closed-circuit system.”

She served them their beers and handed Nick a tablet that had a camera feed to another part of the house. Several women were seated at a large table and eating what appeared to be a late supper. They were dressed in exotic underwear that left very little to the imagination. Nick searched for Jennifer, but didn’t see her at first. Finally, there in the corner, he spied her talking with a young girl.

The relief welled up inside him. Still, he forced himself to show no more than a passing interest. Jennifer was the only woman in street clothes. Even the child she was talking with looked like an underage model for a sleazy lingerie magazine.

Besides the scanty attire, something else was “off,” but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Then he realized the women weren’t talking at all. They were simply staring straight ahead as they ate with no one making eye contact.

He studied the room and its occupants a few moments longer before focusing in on Jenny. He allowed himself to get lost in her, assuming that was the point of this particular exercise with Monique.

Except for the platinum blonde hair, she looked almost the same as he remembered. He studied her image on the tablet closely. Her peaches-and-cream complexion looked just as silky smooth as it had ten years ago. Her face was a little fuller, her figure a bit more lush. She had a woman’s body these days, not a girl’s. But she was still his Jenny.

His Jenny?

He pulled himself back from that startling thought and pointed to her image on the screen. “I want that one,” he said. Thinking of Jennifer as “his” right now could get them both killed.

The woman appeared a bit nonplussed. “Are you sure? She’s very new. Not as biddable as the other girls. Perhaps the other woman next to her appeals as well? I only want you to have the very best of experiences.”

Nick forced himself not to laugh. The Jennifer he knew and the word
biddable
didn’t belong in the same sentence. And the other “woman” Monique referred to looked as if she was barely fifteen. He clenched his jaw against the burn in his gut.

“I like a woman with fire,” he insisted, handing the tablet back to her.

“Very well.” Monique spoke into a small intercom and handed the tablet over to Bryan Fisher, obviously expecting him to go through the same exercise.

Hollywood looked to Nick, for all practical purposes appearing as if he were asking permission from his employer to partake of such a treat. Nick nodded, and Bryan studied the tablet. Hollywood’s hand gripped the seat of his chair as he stared at the screen, but his eyes gave nothing away.

Bryan took only a moment to make his choice and pointed to the youngest looking girl in the room. “I’d like her.”

The older woman nodded. “She has been here several months. She will do whatever you wish.”

Nick’s stomach roiled as the woman spoke.

“Excellent,” said Bryan. “I prefer my fucks biddable and young.”

Nick was glad he wasn’t sipping his beer. He would have snorted it through his nose. Bryan never cursed in front of women and had this thing about manners that was a cross between Rhett Butler and an Eagle Scout. To use that kind of language was completely out of character.

Still, Nick would have believed his friend was looking forward to sex with a minor, if he hadn’t glimpsed the man’s knuckles turning white as he clenched the chair cushion. Hollywood was living up to his nickname. When he leaned back in his seat, Bryan folded his hands in his lap, no sign of the tension Nick had seen seconds before.

The woman spoke into her intercom again before turning to the men. “The women will be ready shortly. Perhaps you’d like another beer while you wait. Tomas said you were to have anything you wanted.”

“Excellent,” said Nick, grateful that Alvarez had been so thorough. “I’d like another beer.” That would be expected of a man in his position.

Bryan asked for another beer as well. “I don’t usually drink when I’m working, but I’ll make an exception for screwing.”

Nick gave up on trying to sip his drink if Bryan was speaking and instead, settled in to wait.

J
ENNIFER STUDIED THE
girls in the dining room. None of the women looked over twenty-five, and there was one who couldn’t have been twelve years old. Two had bruised faces, and one had a black eye.

No one spoke or made eye contact. It was extraordinarily odd to see a roomful of young women not talking to or even looking at each other. No one appeared happy to be here, and they were all dressed in lingerie that was straight out of a Hookers-R-Us catalogue.

Monique again encouraged Jennifer to get some food. She’d been locked in her room since the meeting with Tomas and was starving. Looking at all the other women eating, Jennifer assumed they weren’t drugging the buffet. If she was going to figure a way out of here, she had to be able to think straight, and right now she was so hungry she was light-headed. There was a platter of
migas
, a plate of fruit with cut watermelon, and a box of pastries. She helped herself and tried to figure out exactly what was going on with the other women as Monique left the dining room.

Jennifer sat beside a young woman dressed in a provocative bustier and thong set under a filmy robe and another even younger girl who looked to be in her early teens, if that. Both kept their eyes downcast, focused on their food.

“¡Hola! ¿Cómo te llamas?”
Jennifer asked their names, remembering at the last minute that everyone thought she was someone else.
“Mi nombre es Angela.”
My name is Angela.

Neither girl answered. Out in the hallway a doorbell rang.

Jennifer tried again, but her Spanish was so rusty she switched to English, hoping someone could answer. “How long have you been here?”

The younger girl gave her a furtive look and shook her head. The older teen spoke under her breath in accented but unbroken English. “
Por favor.
They don’t like us to talk.”

“Why not?” asked Jennifer. “What can we say that would harm them?”

The older of the two replied. “They get angry when we talk. You don’t want them angry.”

For an incongruous moment, Jennifer was reminded of the dialogue from
The Incredible Hulk
:
“You won’t like me when I’m angry.”
She felt the unwelcome urge to giggle, but the women’s bruises and black eyes weren’t remotely amusing and took on a whole new meaning in light of what the girls were telling her.

“Just your names then,” she whispered.

The younger girl moved the food around on her plate and cleared her throat. Jennifer glanced down. Seeds from the girl’s watermelon were arranged on the white dish to form letters.

M-I-A

Jennifer nodded and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Mia.”

The young girl’s eyes watered for a moment, and she gave the barest hint of a smile.

“How old are you?” Jennifer asked.

The girl formed the number
ten
with her watermelon seeds. No one was paying any attention.

“How long have you been here?” Jennifer asked.

The girl formed another number with the seeds.
Six
.

“Months?”

Mia nodded. Jennifer felt her own eyes water.
Good God.
How had a ten-year-old ended up in this place?

The guard at the desk looked up.
“No hablar,”
he muttered. No talking.

Mia startled and reached for Jennifer’s hand under the table as her eyes filled. “I want to go home,” she mouthed.

Jennifer gave the child’s fingers a reassuring squeeze. “It’s going to be okay.”

The guard stood and moved to walk toward them.
“¡No hablar!”
he shouted this time, leaning down into Mia’s face.

“¿Por qué?”
Why? asked Jennifer, in an effort to get his focus off of Mia. “What’s wrong with talking?” She raised her voice to her best “teacher tone,” which translated from English to Spanish perfectly.

The angry guard glared, looking her over as if he was stripping her with his eyes. She hid the shudder of revulsion and stared him down like she would one of her grad students.

Mia focused on her plate and brushed the seeds away so they no longer resembled letters or numbers. The guard continued his death stare until the cell phone lying on his desk buzzed. With a final malevolent glare at both Jennifer and Mia, he stalked to the table.

Mia squeezed her hand again, and Jennifer squeezed back. “It’s going to be okay,” Jennifer repeated. “I promise.” She had no idea how this situation was going to turn out okay, but she was determined to give Mia hope.

The guard was talking on the phone in Spanish so fast that Jennifer couldn’t follow. But “pissed off” translated perfectly from Spanish to English.

“Where are you from?” Jennifer asked, ignoring him for the time being.

Mia stiffened beside Jennifer as the guard left the room, still complaining on the phone. She obviously understood every word he was speaking. “You’re like the other,” Mia said.

“The other?”

Mia nodded. “The other
guera
. She’s not here anymore.” Jennifer wanted to know what Mia meant by that, but there wasn’t time to ask before the irritated guard was hurrying back into the room. He shot another withering glare toward Jennifer.

Mia squeezed her hand and slipped something into her palm out of sight under the table. “You’ve been kind to me,” she whispered.

Jennifer closed her fingers around the item and realized it was a ring as the guard traipsed over to glower down on her. He indicated that Jennifer should follow him. She didn’t want him to see that Mia had given her anything, sensing he might take it out on the child. Under the tabletop, she slipped the ring onto her middle finger and rose from the bench seat, belatedly realizing she hadn’t eaten a bite.