by CW Browning
John looked at her.
“Matt?” he repeated.
Stephanie nodded.
“You didn't think I just forgot about our mystery couple who unlocked the cell and waltzed in there, did you?” she demanded.
John had the grace to look sheepish.
“With everything else, I did,” he admitted. “Was Matt going to try to ID them?”
“Yes. I sent him the footage yesterday morning and he said he would work on it.” Stephanie glanced at her watch. “It's almost seven. Why don't we meet for lunch to compare notes?”
“Sounds good,” John said, turning to leave.
Stephanie lifted her coffee to her lips and returned her attention to the box on the steps. She never saw the flash of sun glinting off glass across the street as someone lowered a pair of binoculars thoughtfully. A few minutes later, a putrid green crossover eased out of a parking spot on a side street and turned to drive away from the prison.
Viper held the scope to her eye and watched as Jessica Nuñez got out of a black rental sedan and beeped it locked. She walked across the parking lot toward the large, square brick building that housed Burlington Social Services. Viper watched her go into the building and then turned her attention back to the black rental sedan. She made a note of the plate number and lowered the scope thoughtfully. So, Jessica had rented a replacement for her vehicle. Now why would she let someone else use her car while she was forced to rent one?
Alina was still mulling over the question when her cell phone beeped from the seat next to her. She frowned when she saw the incoming call.
“Yes?” she answered.
“Morning!” Angela greeted her. “What are you doing?”
“Working,” Alina answered briefly. “Why aren't you?”
“I am,” Angela said. “What are you doing for lunch?”
Alina's eyes narrowed at the slight change in Angie's voice. She gazed across the parking lot at the black sedan.
“I don't know yet,” she answered. “Why?”
“Can you meet me?” Angela was doing her best to sound casual, but Alina caught the trace of anxiety in her voice.
“Where?” she asked simply.
“I can come to your house,” Angie replied. “I'll bring salads.”
“What time?” Alina glanced at her watch.
“Around noon?”
“I'll be there,” Alina answered.
“Ok. See you then!”
Alina disconnected with a slight frown. Angela had definitely sounded anxious, and then relieved when she had agreed to lunch. Something was wrong there.
Before she had a chance to think any more about it, however, Jessica Nuñez emerged from the building again. Viper raised an eyebrow and lifted the scope to her eye. Jessica was hurrying down the steps looking distracted and flushed and, as Viper watched, she pulled a phone out of her purse. She swiped the screen and hit a speed dial button before holding the phone up to her ear as she hurried across the parking lot toward the rental sedan. Viper lowered the scope and watched her with a frown. Starting the engine to her Camaro, she watched as Jessica dropped her keys when she reached the car. Jessica ducked down to pick them up just as the crack of a rifle shot echoed across the parking lot. The passenger's window of the SUV parked next to the sedan shattered into pieces.
Viper turned her head swiftly. A black Chevy pick-up truck started its engine with a roar and she saw the glint of the morning sun on a rifle barrel as it was pulled from the driver's window.
“Shit.”
She didn't hesitate. Throwing the car in gear, she hit the gas and shot out of her parking spot. Flying up the aisle toward Jessica's car, she watched in the rear view mirror as the pick-up reversed out of its spot and turned toward them. Her eyes dropped to the front license plate and she read it backwards, committing it to memory. As she approached the black sedan, Viper unlocked the passenger's door and slid the window down.
“Get in!” she called, screeching to a stop behind the sedan.
Jessica Nuñez was crouched on the pavement against the car, her face white. When Alina called out to her, she stared at her in shock.
“What?” she cried.
“You have about four and a half seconds to get in this car before the man who just tried to kill you comes up behind me,” Viper informed her coldly. “The choice is yours.”
Jessica hesitated only a second before grabbing her keys and scrambling towards the Camaro. Viper glanced in the rear view mirror and saw the truck accelerating towards her. Two men were in the cab, and the passenger had a gun in his hand. As Jessica reached the door, he fired. Because Viper had stopped the car at a slight angle, the bullet ricocheted off her back right bumper, missed Jessica and hit the back windshield of the sedan instead.
Jessica wrenched open the door and jumped into the car. Viper didn't wait for her to get the door closed. She hit the gas and Jessica was thrown back in her seat as the door slammed shut with the force of the acceleration.
“Hang on, Ms. Nuñez,” she said calmly, reaching beneath her seat and pulling out her back-up 9mm. Lowering her window, she added, “You might want to keep your head down.”
Jessica looked at the gun, her eyes as wide as dinner plates, and slid down in the seat as low as she could go.
“Who are you?” she cried.
Viper glanced at her speed, then slammed on the brakes and pulled the emergency brake. Spinning the wheel, she guided the sports car into a 180 degree spin until she was facing the pick-up truck.
“I'm the person saving your life,” she answered shortly.
Viper leaned to the side and aimed out the window, steadying her firing arm with her other hand. Her eyes narrowed as she got a good look at the driver. It was the same man who had been watching Hawk Saturday morning. Exhaling, Viper fired off two rounds at the truck. The first one went through the windshield and hit the driver in the shoulder, while the second round buried itself in the front passenger tire. The truck swerved to the right violently and slammed into a parked car as the driver lost control.
Viper disengaged the emergency brake and hit the gas, accelerating past the truck as the passenger jumped out. He fired at the Camaro as she sped down the aisle, one of the bullets hitting the back quarter panel before she turned the corner and shot out of the lot.
“What just...how did you...who are you?” Jessica babbled from the passenger's seat.
Viper glanced in the rear view mirror before sliding her gun back under the seat into its holder. She looked at Jessica, still slouched down in her seat and staring back at her with wide, dark eyes. She still clutched her phone in one hand and her purse and keys were gripped in the other so tightly that her knuckles gleamed. Her hair, which had been in a neat chignon at the back of her head when she went into work, hung in heavy dark strands on either side of a flawless face.
“You can sit up now,” Alina told her, turning her attention back to the road. “They can't follow us. I shot their tire.”
“Did you...I mean, is he...”
“Dead?” Viper asked. “No. I just slowed him down. I couldn't risk killing him in daylight with possible witnesses.”
“How do you know who I am?” Jessica asked, slowly sitting up in the seat. Her hands were shaking and she seemed to just realize that she was still clutching her phone. She dropped it into her purse absently. “How did you know my name?”
“Why did you leave work so quickly?” Viper countered with her own question.
“Were you watching me?” Jessica asked.
“Yes.” Alina glanced at her. “Do you know who those men are?”
“Yes.” Jessica pressed her hands to her cheeks and took a deep breath. “They're bad men. I left work because there was a message waiting on my desk. It said...it said...” Her voice caught on a sob and Jessica Nuñez suddenly sagged in her seat. After a moment, she seemed to pull herself together by some sheer force of will. “It said by the time I read it, my husband would be dead.”
“Is
that who you called when you left the building?” Alina asked.
“Yes.” Jessica looked at her. “He answered the phone and said he was fine. He was about to go into class.”
“Why does Jenaro Gomez want you dead?”
Jessica gasped and stared at her.
“How do you know about Jenaro?” she whispered.
“I recognized the driver as one of his men,” Viper said, glancing at her. “I've seen him before, sitting in your car.”
Jessica was silent for a long moment, twisting her hands together in her lap. Just when Alina decided she wasn't going to say anything, Jessica spoke in Spanish in a low voice.
“Dios mío, no sé en quién confiar.”
“Yo puedo ayudarte,” Viper replied.
Jessica looked at her, startled.
“You speak Spanish!” she exclaimed in Spanish.
“I speak several languages,” Alina answered in kind.
“You say you can help me, but you don't know what that means,” Jessica told her helplessly. “No one can help me.”
“You don't know me yet,” Viper murmured dryly.
“You don't understand. Jenaro Gomez is an evil man. No one can stop him,” Jessica said earnestly. “The Mexican government cannot stop him. He does what he likes and gets away with it. Even here, even in the United States, he can come and do as he pleases. You don't want to get involved with this.”
“I'm already involved,” Viper retorted. “I just put a bullet in one of his soldiers.”
“That's true,” Jessica admitted. “You don't seem worried at all. Who are you?” she asked again.
“Someone who can help you,” Alina said softly, glancing at her.
Jessica stared at her for a long moment.
“I believe you,” she said finally. “I don't know why, but I do.”
“Good.” Viper turned onto the on-ramp for Rt. 295 south. “I'm going to take you somewhere safe. You'll need to stay there until I get this taken care of. They can't find out where you are, or they'll try again.”
“I understand,” Jessica said softly. “What about my family?”
Viper glanced at her as she merged into light traffic on the highway. She cut across the lanes until she was in the fast lane, then she dropped the gas pedal down.
“I'll see what I can do,” Alina finally said a few moments later. “I can't guarantee anything.”
“He has my son,” Jessica told her, half-beseechingly.
Viper glanced at her sharply. She was silent for a moment before sighing imperceptibly.
“I'll see what I can do,” she finally said.
“Why do you care about Jenaro Gomez?” Jessica asked as she stared out the window at the cars they were passing. “Why do you want to help me?”
“He's targeted a friend of mine,” Viper answered coldly. “You have information that will help me find him.”
“I thought it must be something like that,” Jessica said ruefully. “People don't help strangers without reason.” She glanced at Alina. “I'm grateful you did, though. You saved my life.”
Alina was silent, her attention focused on the road. If she felt a slight pang of guilt, she pushed it aside. She had saved the woman's life. The reasons for it were immaterial.
“I hope you know what you're doing,” Jessica continued, turning her gaze back out the window. “Jenaro is dangerous. He manipulates and uses people in ways you can't even imagine, and he has no conscience. He has no moral compass. Sometimes, I think he is the spawn of Satan himself. What you just did for me, that will make him angry. He won't stop until he finds you. I don't know who you are, but I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.”
“Don't worry about me,” Viper said grimly. “I'm rather good at getting to the untouchables.”
“Jessica Nuñez.”
Stephanie stepped into the forensics lab in the basement of the building and raised her eyebrow. Matt, the resident forensics guru, was standing with his back to her, watching as a complicated-looking machine analyzed the contents of a glass slide. He had spoken as she approached the door to his domain, tossing the name over his shoulder without turning around.
“How did you know it was me?” Stephanie asked as she glanced around the cluttered lab.
Each time she came down here, the large space seemed smaller and the mounds of equipment and clutter seemed larger. Matt was a genius with all things science, and the whole building knew it. Even though they had four other forensic techs, all the senior agents came exclusively to Matt. He was quick, accurate, and rarely made mistakes.
“I saw you in the elevator,” Matt said, motioning to a TV monitor in the corner.
Stephanie rolled her eyes and grinned reluctantly. She should have known it was something simple like that.
“So Jessica Nuñez is my mystery woman?” she asked, picking up a magnifying glass from one of the long tables and twirling it in her hand absently.
Matt turned from his machine and looked at her. His sandy hair was askew and his white lab coat was wrinkled and looked as if it had seen better days. He was dressed respectably in navy slacks with a white button down shirt, but his shoes were faded Converses that looked as if they were original vintage. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and came forward to take the magnifying glass out of her hand.
“She's your mystery woman,” he agreed. He set the glass back down and motioned for her to follow him. “The man was more of a challenge. I bet you'll never guess who he is!”
“I bet you're right,” Stephanie agreed cheerfully. “Who is he?”
“His name is Lorenzo Porras,” Matt told her, handing her a blown up glossy photo of the man who went into the Dungeon cell. “Get this. He's Mexican.”
“With a name like that, I'm not surprised,” Stephanie said, taking the photo and looking at it. He was medium height and built like a boxer. “What else did you find out?”
“He's a soldier for the Casa Reino Cartel,” Matt said triumphantly. “He's never set foot on US soil before, at least as far as immigration is concerned. In fact, according to his documents, he's not here now.”
Stephanie looked at him, her forehead creased into a frown.
“Mexican Cartel?” she demanded. “Are you sure?”
“Yep.” Matt turned away again and fished a profile folder out from under a stack of papers and handed it to her. “Here's all the information I was able to pull from our databases. I'll give you the short version. A couple months ago, three top cartel heads were killed. Rumors at the time were that the CIA was involved, but of course it was never confirmed. One of the men killed was José Ramos, head of the Casa Reino Cartel. When he died, his cartel was thrown into war with the other two top cartels. Out of the ashes, Casa Reino is the only one that regrouped under a new head.”
“And my mystery man is one of them,” Stephanie said.
“Yep.” Matt nodded. “And it gets more interesting. Lorenzo Porras has moved up the ranks with the restructuring. DEA suspects he's been working closely with the Cartel's Second-in-Command, Jenaro Gomez.”
Stephanie looked up, her eyebrows soaring into her forehead. Matt nodded, catching her look of surprise.
“You've heard of him. Good. That saves me some breath,” he said. “He was Ramos' Lieutenant and the acting head of the Casa Reinos until Martese Salcedo gained control. Most people think Gomez helped him take control in order to stabilize the Cartel quickly. The other two cartels are still in chaos, fighting among themselves, and losing money every day because of it. Salcedo's been able to stem the bleeding and start gathering his troops again. It's only a matter of time before he regains control of the drug routes that fund them.”
“So, what's Lorenzo doing in Jersey?” Stephanie muttered.
“Well, according to the DEA, Jenaro Gomez came into Arizona a month ago,” Matt told her, leaning against a table and crossing his arms over his chest. “They lost him almost immediately, but they believe he was heading east. If that's true, it explains why L
orenzo is here. We have a team out of Washington tracking Gomez.”
Matt straightened up and turned to a laptop a few feet away.
“We do? The FBI is already looking for Gomez?” Stephanie asked, looking up.
Matt nodded.
“Yep. Give me a sec and I'll have the Agent-in-Charge for you,” he murmured, typing away. “Hanover. Blake Hanover. He's the one tracking Gomez.”
“I know that name,” Stephanie murmured.
“Well, you might want to get in touch with him.” Matt looked up. “He might be able to shed some light on what your mystery man was doing in a museum cell in Mt. Holly.”
“What about this Jessica Nuñez? Do we have anything on her?” Stephanie asked.
Matt shook his head.
“Nothing,” he answered, shoving his glasses back up on his nose. “She's as clean as they come. The only connection I could see is she's originally from Mexico.”
“Thanks, Matt.” Stephanie turned to leave the lab.
“One more thing!” Matt stopped her. “Your head that Larry brought in yesterday?”
“Yes?” Stephanie stopped and looked back at him.
“Larry had me look at the pole it was stuck on,” Matt told her, crossing the lab to another long table. He held up a long, heavy plastic bag with the pole inside. “He found some fragments inside the neck he thought might have come off the pole. They were minute fragments of bark and, as you can see, the pole is wood.”
“Right.” Stephanie nodded.
“Wrong.” Matt grinned. “The pole is bamboo.”
“And?”
“The fragments inside the neck were from a Red Mulberry tree,” Matt told her. “I've gone over this pole twice. There are absolutely no fragments or residue from a mulberry tree anywhere on it.”
“So I'm looking for a mulberry tree,” Stephanie said.
“Yep.” Matt nodded. “If you find one, bring me a piece of bark and I can tell you if it's the same tree.”
“Good to know,” Stephanie said with a smile. “Thanks, Matt. You're invaluable.”
“Tell it to the boss,” Matt retorted. “My review is coming up.”
