Tracker (17 page)

THIRTY-FOUR

Jason

The pain-free void I had fallen into didn’t last nearly long enough. As soon as I started becoming aware of myself again, my whole body hurt. I felt the burns from the cigars and the brand, the stinging pain from the multiple cuts inflicted by the knife, and the throbbing pain from all of the bruises. My arms were numb from having my whole weight on them, so I took a deep breath and tried to get my feet under me again. I almost cried out as my first couple attempts failed, and I nearly gave up, but I finally managed to get my feet on the floor. The agony in my arms eased only slightly as the weight of my body was removed, but they were still extended above my head.

My attention turned from my arms to the collar. The metal prongs felt like they’d left burns in my skin, and it felt tighter than it had at first. Somehow I needed to get it off. Mason didn’t want me dead, but I wouldn’t be able to withstand his torture much longer. I cringed when I realized I was already playing into his hand. By the end of our… session, I had been actively forcing myself to not use my power. When he told me to use it and the pain would stop I had to; there was no other choice.

That fact did little to comfort me. I had been here just over a day and was already allowing his plan to succeed. Alice needed to find me soon. I had to try to buy her some time, which meant extending this as long as possible. I couldn’t give in again, no matter what pain it caused me.

The door opened. I noticed that it was dark and realized it had started raining. The pattering on the roof indicated that it was pouring pretty hard. I’d always liked how the rain made things seem so new and clean, but tonight it just seemed bleak and depressing. It took several minutes before I recognized that Mason had entered when the door opened, and he’d been waiting for me to acknowledge him.

My gaze flicked up to his face and he smiled. “There you are. You seemed like you were a million miles away.” He spoke evenly, almost happily. Nothing like a man who’d spent the better part of a day torturing someone. My cooperation had apparently put him in a good mood.

“There’s someone who wants to join in the fun tomorrow,” he said. “A manager at one of my warehouses called one of my men here and said one of his workers seemed very interested in seeing you suffer. He’ll be coming tomorrow evening, so do try to hold out ‘til then, could you?” He wouldn’t kill me. That had been made clear by his desire to use me. But he wanted me to fight him so his employee could help with my punishments.

My voice still wouldn’t work after all my screaming earlier, so I settled for narrowing my eyes in anger. The ground rumbled slightly, but the sound was masked by a loud crash of thunder, so my use of power went unpunished. “So you do have some spirit left. Good. Like I said, I enjoy a challenge. Keep it up, kid,” he said proudly.

I clenched my teeth and held back the power that was building. My hope was if I held back long enough, I’d be able to let loose a huge burst of destructive power before he or anyone else could use the collar again. To take out Mason, I was willing to do almost anything, even if it hurt me. Before I resorted to that, I needed to give Alice more time to find me. Maybe I wouldn’t have to use my power to hurt anyone—even Mason… maybe.

“I have some water for you, and I’m going to let you down for the night. Mick is going to help me with that, so don’t even think of trying anything or you stay there and we continue our activities from before.” He waited for a response. I didn’t know what he wanted, so I just nodded. My arms needed the break and I really needed some water.

Apparently that’s all he was waiting for because he went to the door and the Bulldog came in to help him. Mick? I guess it fit. Rhymes with prick. I chuckled and the Bulldog looked at me as if I’d gone crazy. Like I cared what he thought. Stupid prick. I’d teach him.

The Bulldog reached up and grabbed my wrists and I jerked away from the touch, groaning in pain as the movement ripped at several of the cuts on my back and my shoulders. He pulled away and looked at his boss for direction.

“Get him down,” Mason ordered. “We’re putting him over there.” He motioned to a corner where there was a small door. I wondered, with some dread, what was behind that door.

As the Bulldog unlocked the cuffs, my arms fell limply at my side, and I collapsed against his chest. I tried to pull away, but he grabbed me and dragged me over to where Mason had opened the door. Behind the door was a thick metal pipe. I looked at it in confusion, switching my confused gaze to Mason’s face as the Bulldog spun me around and pulled my arms behind me to be cuffed together around the pole.

Mason shrugged, correctly reading my look. “I like the flash of fear when people don’t know what’s coming,” he said. “So I hid the pole behind a door. Such a simple thing to cause such fear, isn’t it?”

I rolled my eyes slightly, but had to agree that the fear of the unknown was huge. I cringed and hissed as the returning circulation sent burning pain through my arms. Mason watched with a small smile on his face, and my anger grew. The power strained to be released, but it needed to wait. The small rumble around us was dismissed as thunder. My eyes narrowed as I realized I was cuffed to a metal pole during an electrical storm.

Mason frowned and suddenly struck me in the face with the back of his hand. “Manners, Jason,” he growled. I looked at him confused. “You may not be able to talk, but you’re being rude. I’m doing you a favor letting you have a break tonight and have some water, and all you do is glare at me?”

I needed the water, so I forced myself to school my face to look apologetic. I think I only managed slightly less angry, but it seemed to satisfy his sudden rage. He held the water bottle to my lips and I drank slowly. He let me take several swallows before pulling the bottle away and setting it on the floor in front of me. “Have a good night. We’ll be starting up again in the morning, so sleep while you can.” He and ‘Mick’ left, turning off the light as they did.

My arms were still tingling and burning, but not as badly as earlier. Mason seemed overly confident in his ability to break me. By giving me time to rest, even if I was still extremely uncomfortable, my power would have time to recharge. Maybe he didn’t know about that part of my ability. He certainly didn’t know that my control was tenuous at best. If he pushed me much more, I wouldn’t be able to hold it back, and he’d be forced to electrocute me until I was unconscious. Or worse.

I decided to try to get some sleep. Tomorrow promised to be a long and extremely painful day, and I was already exhausted from today’s excessively painful activities. I closed my eyes in the darkness, trying not to think about the half a bottle of water sitting only a few inches from me, and steadied my breaths. The cuts and bruises on my back made leaning on the pole hurt, but I was so tired that the discomfort only bothered me for a few minutes before I sank into the wonderfully pain-free darkness of sleep.

THIRTY-FIVE

Jones

I’d left the warehouse after Carlos promised to get in touch with John. He told me that he’d call or John would be in touch with me to let me know if a visit to the Farm would be allowed. I went to the scummy apartment I’d been set up in for this operation and flopped onto the bed. My bed in my real apartment was softer and fit me better. The mattress here was lumpy and hard, and everything in the apartment was bare-bones. I had the bed and a couple chairs around a rickety table in the kitchenette; my home had a clean kitchen with almost new furniture and plenty of equipment for cooking—which I enjoyed. The persona I’d been living under lived almost exclusively on take-out and pizza.

Six months undercover, hiding my identity and keeping away from family and friends, yet a street kid had been able to accomplish more in six weeks. I groaned. It was exhausting playing a role almost constantly for so long, but it was too early to go to sleep. I had to check my email for any messages from my handler regarding the meeting tomorrow, and I had a couple things to pick up for Mason.

I was still undercover, even if it seemed like the assignment was coming to an end. I needed to appear as if I were still working with them in order to get permission to go to the Farm. It would be so nice if everything went according to plan and I could go home. My sister and her family understood that I was an undercover agent and would be out of contact for long periods of time, but six months was a long time to stay away from my family.

I groaned again as I rubbed a hand over my face wearily and forced myself to sit up. When I went to the computer, there was an email telling me the meeting with Detective Farrow and her partner would be at nine o’clock at a small coffee shop on the other side of the city. They would come in plain clothes and with their badges hidden in order to help me preserve my cover until their informant had been found.

Their discretion would be appreciated, and I sent a reply saying I agreed with the time and place of the meet. After my errands for Mason tonight, I wasn’t due back at the warehouse until noon tomorrow anyway. I had to go pick up some packages and deliver them to other locations. Most of them went to people Mason had allied himself with, and I made sure to keep a list of people and places I delivered to. So far the packages looked the same. I had managed to get a look inside one of them and saw the tell-tale white powder of cocaine.

Whatever else we were about to get Mason on, we’d be able to get him on drug trafficking as well. I had not been involved with any of Mason’s other crimes, but my testimony—when the time came—would help to put him away for a long time. Knowing that was sometimes the only thing that kept me going. My cell phone rang in the middle of one of my deliveries. “It’s Jones,” I answered. I had already delivered the drugs and it wasn’t the first time I’d been to this location, so I hadn’t needed to commit it to memory.

“You’re on,” Carlos’ voice came over the receiver. “Someone will pick you up tomorrow at six sharp from the warehouse. You’ll be blindfolded. The boss doesn’t want his location compromised.”

I nodded once in satisfaction. “I’ll be there. Thanks for setting it up, Veda.”

There was a pause on the other side of the line. “No problem. Apparently the boss likes that you wanna see this.” There was another pause and he added, “Good luck, Jonesy.”

I was about to respond when I heard the dial tone. “Thanks,” I said anyway, hanging up slowly. The guys I worked with at the warehouse were not good people, but they were nowhere near as bad as the men in Mason’s inner circle. I’d met a couple of the guys who acted as Mason’s bodyguards, and they had been bad. Both had the hardened look of killers, and I suspected one or both of them had been involved in the death of the little girl earlier in the week.

No matter what, I needed to make sure they got arrested and charged with
something
. I finished my deliveries and headed back to my apartment for the night. I needed to get a good night’s sleep; the next day could be the end of the informant’s captivity, my undercover assignment, and Mason’s reign of terror. It would be a busy day. The thought of finally getting Mason off the streets brought a smile to my face as I drifted off into a deep sleep.

I woke the next morning in plenty of time to get ready for the meeting. I showered and got dressed, wearing the typical torn jeans and a sweatshirt like I’d been wearing for working at the warehouse. I pulled my hair back off my face in a short ponytail—another thing I’d be glad to get rid of after this assignment; my normal style was much shorter and cleaner.

As I looked in the mirror, I sighed. I wouldn’t impress the two cops with a professional look, but I would preserve my cover. I got my gun out and put it into the shoulder holster under my leather jacket before grabbing my keys and heading out the door. The drive to the coffee shop took about fifteen minutes. After I parked my motorcycle I walked in, checking for anyone who seemed to be waiting for someone.

The shop wasn’t too busy, so I spotted them almost immediately. The first thing I noticed was that Detective Farrow was
hot
. Not a very professional thought, but I’d been working with the meatheads at the warehouse for six months, not a lot of pretty women to be had in that climate. The second thing I noticed was that she was
furious
. Her partner seemed calmer, and was evidently keeping her from flipping out completely.

I was clearly missing something. She was angry, but there was fear shining through her eyes as well. She and her partner were talking quietly, and for a brief moment it seemed like Farrow was tearing up. Her reaction confused me. The anger and fear I saw in her was what I had seen many times in worried family members or friends. Not what I’d seen from the other cops and agents I’d known when something happened to some random street kid informant. There was worry in her partner’s eyes also, but his was slightly more detached.

The street kid was clearly more than just an informant to both of them. I took a breath and walked over to their table.

“I was wondering when you’d join us,” Detective Farrow said. “You stood there long enough.”

Her brown eyes sparkled as she noticed my surprise. “You cased the place when you walked in. You checked for threats, exits, that kind of thing. Besides, you’re wearing a gun. I figured you were either trying to rob the place or you’re the agent we’re here to meet,” she spoke softly enough that the other people in the shop wouldn’t hear her, so I didn’t worry too much when she’d called me an agent.

“Alice, ease up,” her partner said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder in restraint.

I shook my head. “It’s all right. The lady’s observant. There’s nothing wrong with that.” I held out my hand. “Mark Jones. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Dan Carstens,” the older detective said, shaking my hand. “And she’s Alice Farrow. Now, what can you tell us about Jason?”

“That’s your informant?” I asked. Both of them nodded. “I’ve been told that Mason most likely took him out to a property he calls ‘the Farm’. Supposedly it’s where Mason took his former partner after the man tried to kill him. I don’t know where it is, but I’ve gotten the okay from Mason to go out there.”

“How’d you do that?” Despite herself, Detective Farrow seemed interested and a little impressed.

I cringed. “I needed to pretend that I wanted to see him suffer for hurting Mason’s business. The manager at the warehouse I work at got in touch with Mason’s second-in-command to get me onto the Farm. They’ll be picking me up at six from the warehouse. I won’t be able to tell you where we’re going, but I might be able to get a GPS chip so you can find us once we’re there.”

Alice still seemed angry—a condition I suspected she’d keep until Jason was found—but she said, “Thank you for risking yourself like this. When it’s all over, you should meet Jason so you know it was all worth it.”

I shook my head. “I already know that. I’ve heard what he’s done, and what he’s been put through up until Mason took him now.”

The detective narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “What else did you hear?” she asked protectively.

From her tone, I assumed she knew about her informant’s abilities, so I took a shot in the dark. “I know he has some amazing abilities.” I almost expected them to react as if I were crazy, but from her and Dan’s lack of surprise I had figured correctly that they knew what this boy could do. “What I don’t know is exactly what those abilities are. I heard he managed to demolish a house, throw chunks of cement and dirt around, and that he was able to find one of Mason’s drug warehouses and get it shut down.”

Dan and Alice exchanged glances, Dan giving her a look and a slight wave of his hand. She nodded and looked at me. “Jason can control the earth. He can read people’s footsteps in the ground and follow fresh prints or ‘echoes’ as he calls them. He calls himself a Tracker. The destructive aspect of his power is the stuff you were talking about. He can cause the ground to rise up, in the case of the warehouse, or shake violently—like at the house. Anything else he can do, I am not sure of,” she admitted. “I think sometimes it gets away from him, and he doesn’t even know what he’s fully capable of.”

My eyes were wide at her revelation. I had half-expected her to explain away the wild rumors, but she had instead confirmed them. I shook my head. Her description of what he could do explained the name Mason had given him. Though from the name he’d given himself, it seemed he mostly wanted to ignore the more dangerous aspect of his gifts. I was beginning to understand some of the fear the detectives were showing. If Mason managed to somehow use Jason against people… It was time to get back to work.

“That’s amazing,” I shook my head, needing to get to business, but finding it hard to hide my interest in Jason. “But I suppose we need to start planning for tonight. My handler told me we would have several agents ready to storm the Farm, but I’m not sure of the timing. I have no idea how far out of town this place is, so I will stall things as much as possible once I get there to give you time to get there. I'll call you, Detective Farrow, as soon as my ride comes. I’ll call you Allie and pretend you're a girl I’m dating and that I need to explain why I won’t see you tonight. That will be the sign that we’re heading out.”

Alice nodded. “We’ll have all available units ready to roll shortly before six and we’ll start following the GPS tracker once it gets out of town. We definitely don’t want to follow too closely and alert them. When you arrive, be prepared to stall so we can get there before anything else is done to Jason for your benefit.”

I checked my watch. “I should get to the warehouse,” I said. “Until tonight, I guess all we can do is wait.”