Mercy: Second Chance Military Romance (18 page)

Tyler

Harris sat next to me at the bar of a dark and seedy dive in the Bronx. He stared into his beer, not saying a word as he digested everything I’d told him.

“None of it makes sense,” he said.

“You’re telling me. The only thing I’m worried about is getting to Mercy.”

“I knew you two would get together,” he said, a familiar smile sliding over his face.

“She’s my life now, bro. Help me get to her.”

“It will not be easy.”

“No, and that’s why I called in the best.”

“I have an idea, but you will not like it.”

“What is it?”

“Remember what we did in that hotel in Kabul?”

“Oh no,” I said, shaking my head. “Not that.”

“It’s easy and safe. No one will get hurt. Or they shouldn’t. We pull the fire alarm, everyone comes out of the building, and I bring her to you.”

“You might scare her. And they’re probably watching her.”

“That’s why we get everyone out of that building.”

“She’ll be pissed.”

“It’s the only way, bro. And it’s safe. I’m done with killing people.”

“All right. Let’s do it. Tonight.”

“I’ve got your back. You know that.”

I lifted my beer mug into the air. He raised his too. We clinked them together then drank.

With a little luck, we might get me to Mercy to warn her.

* * *

Traffic passed by, clueless, as I waited on the opposite side of the street from Mercy’s building, far enough away the spooks watching wouldn’t be able to see me.

Come on, Harris. You got this.

I shifted from one leg to the other, ready to jump into action when people exited the building. Two blocks away, we had found a place to talk.

All of a sudden, I heard the fire alarm. Dozens of people stormed out of the front door a few minutes later.
This is it
, I thought as I slipped back into the alley.

When I reached the predetermined spot to talk inside an abandoned building we’d broken into, I stopped and leaned against one wall in a dark corner.

I hated waiting, but it was necessary. My only thoughts were of making sure Mercy would be safe. Whatever I had to do for the feds did not matter in the least.

She was my priority plain and simple. Our relationship had burnt bright quickly. I did not want it to extinguish so soon. Not someone like her. I heard noises outside.

Braced for anything, I relaxed as Mercy walked in the lobby with walls covered in graffiti. She rushed over when she saw me. I stepped forward, my arms stretched out.

She ran into them. I hugged her tight, so damn tight.

“Are you okay?” I asked, pulling back, my palms on her cheeks.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “A little surprised, but okay.”

“I can’t believe they dragged you into this mess.”

“Mercy, I’m involved because I’m part of your life now, and I wouldn’t change that for anything.”

I kissed her.

“Hurry, you two,” Harris said from the doorway as he peered at the street outside. “I have to get her back before the spooks get spooked.”

“I’ve been researching more,” she said.

“No, you shouldn’t be…”

“Anyway,” she interrupted. “I kept following the money, and it’s scaring me.”

“What do you mean?”

I moved my hands to her waist.

“This smuggling operation made billions. It goes all the way to the top.”

“What do you mean all the way to the top? The President?”

“Okay, maybe not that far, but at least a general or too. Quite a few people got rich off Afghanistan.”

“Be careful.”

“We need to get going,” Harris said. “The clock is ticking.”

“You should just run. Get out of the city.”

“And go where? This is the FBI we’re talking about here. I can’t run from them.”

“They probably let us both out to watch us. We need to be careful.”

“We’re innocent, Tyler. It’ll be okay.”

“If only the world worked that way,” I said.

She stepped back.

“I’ll follow this last lead.”

“Let me come with you. We can do it together.”

“No, that would be less safe. Think about it.”

“You’re right,” I said, unable to stop staring at her.

“I’ve been writing an article as I dig up more information. This will be the story of my career, Tyler.”

“I believe in you,” I said then kissed her again.

“I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Wait about ten minutes, bro,” Harris said from the door.

“Thanks. I’ll get with you in a few days after things calm down. They have to know something was up tonight.”

“They’re not dumb,” he said.

After they left, I paced back and forth in the dusty lobby of the condemned hotel too shitty for even the poor bastards running amok in the city.

I have to save her.

No other thought mattered as much.

THIRTY-THREE

Mercy

Harris left before we reached my apartment building. I went inside alone, sending Jennifer a text message on my way up to the eleventh floor.

“Come over. Need to talk.”

The feds were likely listening, but I didn’t care. I had been using the neighbor’s WiFi signal, so hopefully they didn’t know about my research online.

As I found out more about the players involved in the smuggling operation, everything made more sense. Following the money trail had paid off.

If they let me get the information out. A story so big would not be accepted by many traditional news outlets and most of the bloggers like Huffington Post.

By the time Jennifer arrived, I had myself worked up, ready to take on the world. She walked in my apartment, glanced at the printed sheets of paper strewn everywhere and whistled.

“You got some serious Erin Brockovich activity going on in here.”

“Close the door. You haven’t been with Roger, have you?”

“No…Why?

“You can’t see him again.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she said, stopping by me in front of the couch as I stared down at the stacks of paper neatly arranged on my glass coffee table.

“Good. He’s a bad man.”

“He’s bad in bed too.”

She laughed, still clueless.

“You don’t understand. He’s a criminal, and there’s no telling what he’s capable of doing.”

“This is Roger, the guy you set me up with, right?”

I furrowed my brow, frowning.

“I’m so sorry. Do you forgive me?”

“I guess. I’m still confused, to be honest.”

“It’s easy. Roger, and maybe Tyler, were involved in a smuggling operation out of Afghanistan.”

“Tyler was involved too?”

“I’m pretty sure. From what the FBI said, they’re ready to forgive him.”

“The FBI?” She tilted her head back and stared at me. “You’re putting me on, right?”

“No, Jen. I’m totally serious. I’ve been freaking out. They told me not to get in contact with Tyler, but…”

“Let me guess,” she interrupted. “You talked to him anyway.”

“He came to me, to check on me. I think he loves me.”

Her eyes widened.

“Already?”

“I know, right? This is the real thing. I’ve never felt this way about someone before. We connect.”

“But now the FBI is saying you can’t see him.”

“Exactly. Unless I can unravel the mystery of who is behind this smuggling operation and where all the money is going.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed.

“You have an idea to help?”

“No! I almost forgot to tell you. I’ve met a new guy.”

I resisted rolling my eyes.

“That’s nice, but…”

“No, really. He’s great, a rock star.”

My eyes rolled on their own.

“I’m serious, Mercy. We’ve been getting along well so far, and we haven’t even slept together.”

“That’s great. I’m glad for you, but I’m kind of in middle of an emergency right now.”

“Have you called your dad?”

“Um, no. Why would I call him?”

“Duh. He’s a spy.”

“I’ve told you, he’s not a spy.”

“And I’m telling you he’s definitely some sort of spy. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“You back on the drugs?”

“No, but I wish I was sometimes. It hurts you don’t believe me.”

“I’m a journalist, Jen. If my mother were alive and said she loved me, I would look into it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that line before. I’m going. All this talk of the FBI and spies has me spooked.” She giggled. “Spooked. Get it?”

Many people might hate Jen for being so goofy and seemingly unconcerned with helping me, but I understood she would only get in the way. I had a hell of a lot of work to do if I would bring down the people smuggling precious minerals out of Afghanistan on a massive scale.

Clearing the good name of Tyler and myself also mattered. I saw Jennifer out of the apartment then returned to my laptop. Running the Tor browser made it more difficult for them to watch where I went on the Dark Web, a real source of information that flew fast and free.

As I worked on the story of my career, I realized Tyler needed to go on the record in the story. While nothing would stop me from masking his identity, having his name attached would make it even more powerful when the story broke online. If I ever finished.

THIRTY-FOUR

Mercy

As much as I hated to admit it, Jennifer had given me decent advice. Even though my father wasn’t a freaking spy, he was my superhero and might have an answer to my dilemma.

He appeared surprised yet happy when I appeared at his doorstep. I threw my arms around him and hugged tightly. No matter the situation, he always made me feel better.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Come inside.”

I stepped in the apartment.

“How do you know something’s wrong?”

“How long have I been your father?”

“Don’t remind me,” I said. “I’ve got a problem, and I thought you might have an idea on how to solve it.”

“What’s that, dear?”

“I need to sneak into a building with no one knowing it’s me.”

He tilted his head to the side as he studied me.

“You sure everything is okay? You can talk to me.”

“I know, Dad. Everything’s fine. It’s just… for my job.”

While I hated to lie to him, he didn’t need to know the FBI was after me. Some things were better kept from parents no matter your age.

“Well, you need a good disguise.”

“Like a mask or something? Maybe a wig?”

He laughed.

“If you want to look conspicuous, that will work, but if you want to blend in, you’ll need to work on it more. Lucky for you, I can help.”

It was my turn for me to tilt my head in curiosity.

“You’re an expert at disguises?”

“It’s been helpful in my career.”

“As a traveling salesman?”

“Yes, dear, as a traveling salesman.”

We made eye contact for a few seconds. I looked away first, not ready to push him about the whole spy nonsense. I needed to get to Tyler and get him to agree to be in my story on the smuggling operation.

A few minutes later, he had me sitting on the toilet seat as he straightened a blonde-haired wig on my head. I struggled like a schoolchild not wanting to go to school.

“Hold on,” he said. “Let’s accentuate your eyebrows and make you look Middle-Eastern.”

“No!” I said.

He stepped back and peered at me down his long, thin nose.

“No?”

“I mean, it’s fine. As long as I look different.”

“That’s better,” he said, going back to work.

“How did you learn this?” I asked to change the subject.

“Oh, don’t worry about it right now, dear. Let’s finish your make-up.”

Forty-two minutes later, I looked like an entirely different person. When I saw my reflection in the mirror, I didn’t recognize the woman staring back at me.