Uncovered by Truth (4 page)

I’m about to head out to scout the area around Hutchison’s appearance, or that’s what I’m telling Rodney and Bruce. These two guys are like dumb and dumber. I even convinced them to give me my wallet back, arguing that I might need money during an emergency. As long as I use the line, “If I get caught, we all go down,” they seem pretty compliant. Hell, I could probably convince them to let me go if I tried hard enough.

“How long are you going to be gone?” Bruce asks me as I’m heading toward the front door.

“I shouldn’t be more than a few hours.” I don’t wait for a response, grabbing the car keys off the table and walking out the door. I have to say I was a little surprised when I mentioned taking the car and wasn’t met with a lot of resistance. But I’m not a damn idiot either. I’ll bet the car is bugged with a tracking device. That’s why I’m going to park it near the intended location and take a cab back to Elizabeth’s house.

I have the taxi stop a few houses down from Elizabeth’s. From here, I can’t see her house since there is so much space between each residence. After paying the cab driver, I get out and walk over to a car. Tyler, one of the guys assigned to watch her, sees me approach and motions for me to go around to the passenger side.

“Hey, Tyler,” I say once I’m in and the door is firmly shut.

“How’s it going, Matthews?” he asks, surprise in his voice. It’s obvious he wasn’t expecting me to show up. Turner would have my ass if he knew I was here.

“Not good. Where’s the video surveillance?” Looking around the car, I don’t see any equipment and I don’t see Elizabeth.

“There is none,” he responds casually. I have to work really hard to cool my temper.

“What the fuck do you mean there is none? I thought you were supposed to be watching her.” My fists clench at my sides and I can feel the vein pulsating in my forehead as my anger rises. How the hell are they supposed to get to her and save her if they can’t even see her?

“Turner said it wasn’t in the budget. He petitioned the department for it, but they shot him down saying she wasn’t the priority and all resources should be used to bring down Cal and whoever else he’s working with.” This isn’t Tyler’s fault, I know, but the way he says it so nonchalantly like it’s not a big deal makes me want to put my fist through his face.

“So what the hell are you doing out here then?” My hands tremble, needing to direct my pent-up frustration.

“I’m watching her as close as I can. I note if someone other than the neighbors drive by. So far everything is pretty quiet. I’ve only seen one car come by. Other than that, no one has been here, not even her husband.” My jaw clenches at that word.

Husband.

He’s not a husband; he’s her tormentor and holds her mentally captive while he advances his own agenda.

“Can I use your phone?” I ask him. He pulls it out of his coat pocket and hands it to me. After I dial the number, it rings a couple times before it’s answered.

“Turner. Whatcha need, Tyler?” he asks, sounding bored.

“Hey, sir, it’s Matthews. Why the hell is no one watching Elizabeth?”

“What the hell are you doing there?” His loud voice booms through the phone. “You want to blow this whole mission and get her hurt in the process?” I knew he’d be pissed, but tough shit.

“I’m not blowing anything. Why isn’t anyone watching her?” I demand.

“There is someone on her, which you know since you’re calling from Tyler’s phone.” He’s lowered his voice, but it’s clear he’s still mad as hell by the way he’s talking through his teeth.

I take in a deep breath through my nose in an attempt to remain calm. “No, he’s not watching her at all. Where is video surveillance?”

“I tried, but the department said no. She’s not the priority, getting Cal is.”

“This is bullshit. You want Cal? Then you get eyes on Elizabeth. I can’t concentrate on my job when I’m worrying about her,” I spit out.

A long sigh comes through the phone. “I’ll work on it, Matthews. You just focus on what you’re supposed to do and I’ll do what I can.” It’s not the confirmation I wanted, but there really isn’t anything I can do about it right now. After I hang up, I turn my attention back to Tyler.

“She hasn’t left the house at all? Do you know who came by?”

“No. The windows were blacked out on a Mercedes.” He picks up his coffee mug and takes a drink. I’m not sure why, but something about his observation just doesn’t sit well with me.

“How long were they there for?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. A couple hours maybe.” Great, they assigned a dumbass to watch over the one thing in this world that means everything to me.

“Just so you know, I really want to beat the shit out of you right now,” I deadpan. “You better wake the fuck up and pay attention. If she leaves, you better write down who she’s with and how long she’s gone until I can get some kind of video feed in there.” Leaning forward and lowering my voice, I stare straight into his eyes so he can see the seriousness of the situation. “If you fail to do that, I’ll pull every string I have and see to it that your ass works behind a desk for the rest of your miserable fucking life. You got it?”

“Relax, man. All of this over some girl you banged? Geez, she must have been a real nice piece of a—” The rest of his sentence is cut off when my fist connects to his jaw.

Fisting his shirt collar, I pull him across the center console. “You better watch what you fucking say! That girl in there is the only damn thing I care about right now and if anything happens to her I will hold you accountable.” I release him and swing the car door open. I need to get the hell out of here before I lose my shit completely. Before I close the door, I say, “Call Turner and see if he can tap into their alarm system. We’ll be able to hear what’s going on at the very least.”

“Okay.”

“Do me another favor, call me a cab and have them pick me up six blocks south toward the main road.”

“Will do.” I shut the door, hoping Tyler isn’t dumb enough to fuck up those two simple requests. As I’m walking away, I have to fight everything in me that wants to turn around, knock on her door, and hold her. Being this close and not able to hold her is torture. God, I miss the feel of her skin against mine, the smell of her hair, the sound of her laugh. I just miss
her.
Even though I want nothing more than to go to her, I keep walking, knowing it’ll be a disaster if I do that now.

An hour later I’m pulling up to the shithole I’ve been calling home for the past month. I take notice of the car parked beside me. I’ve never seen it before, so I have no idea who could be here now. Walking around the back of the car before heading to the door, I look at the license plate.

TAW 636

I pull my wallet out and jot it down on a scrap piece of paper. There’s always a really small pencil stashed in the bottom for things like this.

When I’m done, I put it in my back pocket and open the door to the house. And that’s when I’m completely blindsided.

TWO GUYS GRAB me by my arms as soon as I’m through the door. When I look over at them, I see it’s Rodney and Bruce. “What the fuck is going on?” I ask as I struggle against their hold. I’m able to pull my right arm free and land a punch to Rodney’s face. His hands go to his face and he hunches over in pain. My head snaps to Bruce when I hear the familiar sound of a gun being cocked, causing me to freeze in my spot.

“Why don’t you calm down and have a seat?” My eyes glance up to see a tall, broad guy walking toward me with his gun pointed at my face. In the middle of the room is a single chair, and my instincts are starting to kick into high gear. Both guys guide me to it and begin tying me up once I’m seated. Great, I’m strapped to another chair.
This looks promising.

As he walks closer to me, I get the feeling I know him from somewhere. It’s driving me crazy, but I definitely recognize his face. He has a darker complexion, with dark-brown hair and eyes, but it’s the distinct scar which runs down his cheek that stands out.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before,” I say once he’s in front of me. I know I’m being a smart ass and I might pay for it, but I have to play it cool.

He puts his hand on the back of my chair and leans down into my face. “No, we haven’t had the pleasure, Alex. But let’s not waste time on introductions and get down to business.” It’s not lost on me that he avoided telling me who he is, but as I stare at him, it clicks.

One of my buddies works for the DEA. I went over to his place one afternoon to have a few beers and watch some football. He had a file open on his kitchen table that he was working on, and this guy’s picture was lying on top. I can’t remember his name, but I know he’s involved with one of the prominent drug cartels in this country. What I don’t understand is how he ties in with Cal.

“It seems we have a little problem,” he says while still perched on the back of my chair. I almost don’t see it coming it happens so fast. He rears back and punches me right in the gut. I double over as much as I can while tied up and gasp for breath. I’ve been hit quite a few times in the stomach, but it never sucks any less. The wind is knocked out of me and I cough a few times trying to find my air again.

“You’ve had several weeks to complete this job. Yet, it’s still not done. I can’t help but feel like you’re pussyfooting around for a reason.” Before I have a chance to respond, he lands a jab right to my jaw. Pain explodes on impact and ripples out through the rest of my head. I bring my focus back up and glare at him. Now I’m just fucking pissed.

I turn my head to the side and spit to rid my mouth of the blood that’s filling it. “Do you want to hit me again, or do you want to hear what’s going on?” I croak out, my stomach and jaw still aching.

“By all means, inform me.” His fake politeness does nothing to soothe the anger festering inside of me. He takes a couple steps back, giving me some room.

“You can’t just go in and take a guy out and expect to get away with it. It has to be precise, calculated, perfect.”

“But you’re supposed to be the expert. Why is it taking you so long to plan out such an easy task?” he asks sarcastically. I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. I’m hardly an expert at killing innocent people, and it’s been quite a while since I’ve practiced long distance shooting of this magnitude. But I keep all of it to myself since that info would probably result in my death. Right now they need me, and the longer I can make them believe that, the more time I have to bring this asshole and everyone else he’s working with down.

“In the military, some missions would take weeks—months even—to plan. You don’t just go in guns a blazing and expect positive results.” He doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “Right now I’m watching Hutchison during his campaign speeches. I’m looking for patterns, weaknesses, and opportunities. I can’t gather that type of information in a matter of days or weeks. It takes some time. If you want this done right, then you need to back off and let me do what you brought me in here to do.” It’s hard to feel confident when you’re tied to a chair, your mouth is bleeding, and your stomach is bruised, but I hope my unwavering eye contact is enough. He needs to understand I’m not intimidated by him, but most importantly, he needs to believe all the bullshit I just fed to him.