Next Exit, Dead Ahead

by CW Browning

  The fact that Jenaro recognized him in Jersey was unfortunate, but Damon knew now it was a freak accident that he had ended up in the same area as Jenaro. Viper clearly thought it was more than just a coincidence.

  Hawk studied the back of her head thoughtfully as they wound their way silently through the woods towards her house. They were both still alive because neither of them took anything at face value, and they were habitually suspicious of anything hinting of coincidence or accident. Even though he believed it really was just coincidence that Jenaro had recognized him, perhaps he should have Charlie look into it just to be safe.

  If there was one thing he had learned over the years, it was that Viper's instincts were never wrong.

  Alina sipped her coffee and stared out the sliding door, waiting for the red Mustang to make its way through the trees and around the driveway to the back of the house. The security cameras had picked Stephanie up as soon as she turned off the road, and Alina knew why she had come. She wanted answers, and understandably so.

  Alina watched as two squirrels chased each other across the deck, chattering loudly. She had been up since dawn, practicing Yoga on the deck before descending downstairs to try to find something that would help Stephanie with Kwan. The fact that Lowell Kwan was somehow part of a bigger operation than a hacking ring was obvious. What, exactly, that operation was had Viper digging through classified files all morning, only to come up empty.

  Her eyes narrowed now as she lifted her coffee cup to her lips again. Kwan's digital record was being protected for a reason, and the more she dug, the more she didn't like it. Viper had been trained to find information, and she excelled at it. Yet, she wasn't able to find anything on Kwan that wasn't general information. Someone had taken great pains to make sure the agency's interest in Kwan was concealed, and they had succeeded. If it weren't for the fact that Michael had been stonewalled, Alina would be inclined to believe the agency had no interest in Kwan at all. But someone warned him off, and that made all the difference. What was Kwan really doing?

  The Mustang roared around the corner of the house and pulled up behind Michael's truck, pulling Alina's attention back to the driveway. She watched as Stephanie got out, carrying a white bakery bag in one hand. Shaking her head slightly, Alina slid open the door and stepped out onto the deck.

  “You always come bearing unhealthy food,” she said as Stephanie walked up the steps.

  Stephanie grinned.

  “You need good, old-fashioned starch in your diet,” she retorted. “Is the coffeemaker still on?”

  “Yes.”

  Alina motioned Stephanie inside and followed her into the house, sliding the door closed behind her. Stephanie walked over to the bar and dropped her purse and keys on the granite counter, setting the bag down.

  “Are Michael and Angela still sleeping?” she asked, glancing at the clock. It was just past eight.

  “I think Angie's in the shower,” Alina replied, circling the bar and heading to the coffeemaker with her mug. “Michael went out for a run.”

  “How are you holding up having them here?” Stephanie asked, perching on a bar stool and pulling of her sunglasses.

  Alina glanced over her shoulder.

  “I haven't killed them yet.”

  She opened a cabinet and got a clean mug for Stephanie, placing it under the coffee spout. Stephanie chuckled and opened the bakery bag, pulling out two toasted bagels with cream cheese.

  “That's a good thing,” she murmured, getting up and joining Alina in the kitchen. “Plates?”

  “In there,” Alina said, pointing to another cabinet.

  Stephanie nodded and turned to get two plates out of the cabinet.

  “So, tell me about Jenaro,” she said, glancing at Alina.

  Alina's lips twitched.

  “Jessica's safe,” she replied.

  Stephanie's eyes narrowed and she went back to the bar with the plates.

  “That's what you said last night.” She sat on the bar stool again and cast a searching look at Alina. “Blake and John were there. They found four bodies, none of which were Gomez.”

  Alina's face didn't give anything away and Stephanie sighed at the shuttered look.

  “I can't release the Nuñezes from agency protection without knowing for sure they're safe,” she told Alina, picking up one of the bagels. “Give me something I can work with here.”

  Alina considered Stephanie for a long moment thoughtfully before she turned and withdrew the full coffee mug from the machine. She carried it over and set it in front of Stephanie.

  “What I tell you cannot go beyond the two of us,” she said quietly, her voice like steel.

  Stephanie looked up in surprise to find Viper looking at her, her dark eyes cold and distant. She nodded mutely, her heart thudding in her chest despite herself. Viper held her gaze for a second longer, as if searching her soul, before turning to go back to the coffeemaker. She set her own cup under the spout and hit the button to brew another cup. Stephanie breathed a silent sigh of relief when she turned away. The stranger that lived inside her friend terrified her, and Stephanie still remembered vividly what that stranger was capable of.

  When Alina returned a few moments later with her coffee, Viper had disappeared. The dark eyes were still shuttered, but the danger had passed, and Stephanie relaxed.

  “Two months ago, before Regina died, she put out a hit on Damon,” Alina said quietly, seating herself next to Stephanie at the bar. “She included a photo and sent it to all the top mercenaries, assassins, and guns for hire in the world.”

  Stephanie's mouth dropped open and she stared at Alina.

  “What?!”

  “She also sent it to three Mexican cartels,” Alina continued, sipping her coffee.

  “Oh my God,” Stephanie breathed. “Jenaro Gomez.”

  “You asked me how I knew about the Cartel before you did,” Alina reminded her, glancing at her. “I knew because they put Rodrigo's head outside Damon's condo as a warning.”

  “Damon's? But....we found it outside the prison!” Stephanie exclaimed, the bagel forgotten. “How did it get to the prison if they left it...”

  Alina's lips twitched as Stephanie's voice trailed off.

  “Damon sent the warning back,” she said softly.

  Stephanie dropped her forehead into her hand with a groan.

  “Do you have any idea what kind of penalties there are for tampering with evidence in a federal investigation?” she demanded, glancing at Alina. “Are you laughing!?”

  “No.” Alina swallowed her grin and picked up her bagel, tearing a piece off. “I would never find relocating a human head on a stick amusing.”

  Stephanie lifted her head and looked at Alina suspiciously, but her friend chewed her bagel innocently.

  “So, Jenaro's apartment last night,” Stephanie murmured, “that was Damon?”

  “Let's just say the Casa Reinos went after the wrong man,” Alina answered.

  Stephanie sat silently for a moment before picking up her forgotten bagel and biting into it. The two women ate quietly for a moment. One was processing the knowledge that a government assassin, protected at much higher levels than her, had single-handedly taken on a Cartel. The other was pondering the wisdom of telling a federal agent the truth.

  “Lorenzo and Ramiero?” Stephanie finally asked.

  “Remember how Dimitrius took out the members of Johann's network to instill the fear of God into him?” Alina asked.

  “Do they train you people to be so messed up, or does it just come naturally?” Stephanie demanded.

  Alina burst out laughing.

  “Fear is one of the biggest weapons you can wield,” she told her, still chuckling. “We don't think of it as messed up. We think of it as tactical advantage.”

  “So, where's Jenaro now?” Stephanie asked. Alina gave her a look and she sighed. “Will we ever find his body?”

  “Doubtful,” Alina answered calmly.

  “Blake won't be ha
ppy,” Stephanie said, sipping her coffee. “He's spent over three years trying to get Jenaro Gomez. This is the closest he's come, and now he won't have anything to show for it.”

  Alina smiled faintly and Stephanie shot her a look.

  “What?” she demanded. “I'm getting to know that smile. What do you know?”

  “Blake won't leave empty-handed,” Alina promised. “I owe him.”

  “Owe him? Owe him for what?” Stephanie stared at her. “How do you even know him?”

  Alina finished her coffee and stood up.

  “Steph, finish your breakfast,” she advised.

  “God! I hate it when you do that!” Stephanie exclaimed, making a face at Alina's back. “At least tell me this, who's going to take the fall for all these dead Cartels I have cluttering up the place?”

  Alina glanced over her shoulder, her lips twitching.

  “What dead Cartels?” she asked.

  Stephanie stared at her.

  “Lina, even you can't make six bodies disappear from the morgue,” she stammered.

  Viper raised her eyebrow.

  “Are you sure about that?” she asked softly.

  Blake rode the elevator down to the basement level, watching the numbers decrease above his head. He met Rob in his office first thing this morning, filling him in on the events from last night. Rob had not been happy when he heard four dead bodies were recovered and none of them were Jenaro. In fact, he hadn't been happy that someone beat them to the Cartel at all. Blake grinned, recalling Rob's inventive vocabulary. He sent Blake off to see what Matt had been able to find out with the blood samples, still fuming as Blake went out the door.

  The smile on Blake's face faded as he sipped his coffee. He wasn't happy himself. Three years of work trying to nail these bastards, and now he got this close only to have them start turning up dead everywhere. Who the hell was doing it? And how? He went over that apartment twice last night, examining every crack and every inch of floor. He hadn't found any evidence of forced entry or anything that could have been left behind by whoever killed those men. Hell, there hadn't even been a scuff mark anywhere. If Blake didn't know better, he would consider the possibility Jenaro killed them all himself.

  The elevator dinged and Blake raised his eyes as the doors slid open. He stepped out of the elevator and looked around, following the loud, pulsing music coming from an open doorway a few feet away. He raised his eyebrows when he entered Matt's lab, his eyes widening as he looked around slowly. Computers and monitors lined one side of the large room, while mysterious-looking machines and big refrigerators lined the other. The space between was filled with two long tables holding just about every device used for testing known to man. Old-fashioned chemistry equipment jostled for space with state-of-the-art technology. A faint smell of burning hung over the room, indicating that the chemistry equipment had been in use recently.

  The master of this world of chaos stood near one of the large machines at the side of the room, watching the digital readout on the machine as it hummed loudly. Dressed in wrinkled khakis, Matt looked like he had never heard of an iron and his lab coat had seen better days. His sandy-colored hair stuck up in the back, and glasses perched on his nose, lending him an air of educated insanity. He looked up when Blake appeared, pushing the glasses up and tilting his head slightly to study him.

  “Agent Hanover?” he called over the noise blaring from surround-sound speakers in the corners of the room. Blake nodded, speechless. “Good! You're just in time!”

  Matt picked up a remote and the music stopped suddenly. Someone made a snorting sound in the corner behind Blake and he swung around to find John lifting his head from a pillow on the floor. He blinked up at Blake sleepily before launching into a wide, jaw-cracking yawn.

  “Is it that time already?” he mumbled.

  “Rise and shine, John,” Matt called, tossing the remote back on the table.

  “Did you sleep here?” Blake asked, watching as John sat up and rubbed his face.

  “I didn't see much point in going home,” John retorted. “The mad scientist over there was still running the blood samples at three. I figured I might as well stay.”

  Blake turned to look at Matt.

  “Did you find anything?” he asked.

  Matt looked at him and picked up a can of Red Bull, chugging it down before answering.

  “Of course I did,” he finally answered, tossing the empty can into a recycling bin under one of the long tables. “Come over here and I'll show you.”

  John struggled to his feet, stretched, and ambled over to where Matt stood near one of the long tables. Blake followed, glancing at the read-outs and photographs littering the table.

  “You gave me two blood samples, right?” Matt asked rhetorically. “You wanted to know if one of them matches Jenaro Gomez. Lucky for you, Jenaro's DNA is in the database.”

  “I know,” Blake said. “It was entered two years ago when he was convicted of manslaughter. He only served six months of his fifteen-year sentence in Mexico.”

  “I know. What I meant was, lucky for you it was entered into the database. Otherwise, I would not have come in last night to try to run cold DNA searches,” Matt told him. “As it was, I ran into problems running these against the DNA we have.”

  “Why?” John asked, stifling another yawn. Blake handed him his coffee. “Thanks.”

  “Please observe sample A,” Matt said. He pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to them. “This is the sample taken from the floor.”

  “What am I looking at here?” Blake asked, peering at the graph.

  Matt sighed.

  “The DNA from the database is in blue,” he explained. “That's Jenaro's DNA that we have on file. Sample A is in red.”

  “They're almost identical,” John said, glancing up from the sheet.

  Matt nodded.

  “It's a 97% match,” he agreed.

  “Then we know he was there!” Blake said, grinning.

  “Oh, he was there all right, but hold on,” Matt cautioned him, pulling out another sheet. “This is what took me all night. This is why you're lucky I came in.” He handed them the sheet. “That's sample B, the blood you took from the couch.”

  Blake and John stared at the sheet in silence.

  “I don't understand,” John finally said, looking up in confusion.

  “Sample B is a 27% match,” Matt told them.

  “How...how is that possible?” John asked.

  “It can only be possible if the sample came from...” Matt began.

  “...a half-sibling,” Blake finished.

  Matt nodded.

  “Exactly.”

  John looked at Blake questioningly.

  “Turi,” Blake told him. “His name is Turi Alvarado. He's Jenaro's half-brother.”

  “I spent all night trying to match his DNA,” Matt said. “It's still searching.”

  “You won't find a match,” Blake said, shaking his head. “Turi has never been convicted of a crime. His brother gets him off every time, so his DNA has never been entered into the databases.”

  “So, let me get this straight,” John finished Blake's coffee and shook his head. “We're missing both Jenaro and his brother?”

  “Something like that,” Blake replied.

  “Well hell, then the Nuñezes aren't safe yet!” John exclaimed.

  Blake shook his head grimly.

  “Not yet,” he agreed. “Given the amount of blood on that couch, Turi is hurt pretty bad. Now we know who we're looking for, let's start with the area hospitals and clinics and hope for some luck. He couldn't have gotten far.”

  John nodded and turned toward the door.

  “I'll get on it,” he said. “What about Jenaro?”

  Blake frowned thoughtfully.

  “I'll worry about him,” he said. “You just find me Turi.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Stephanie dropped her purse into her desk drawer and slammed it shut. She fell into her chair
and glanced over at John. He was on the phone at his desk. She had just got to the office and already felt tired. She spent the entire drive into the city wondering how Alina and Damon had managed to take over and run riot all over South Jersey and where, exactly, she had lost control of the two assassins. Stephanie was pulling into the parking garage at work when she realized she never had control of them. They did what they wanted. She supposed if she kicked up a fuss, she could get them reprimanded and maybe even pulled from the field. If it was anyone else, she would try to prosecute them with impunity, but they weren't anyone else. They were the people who had saved her life more than once, and she knew they were the good guys. These days, it was getting harder and harder to tell who the good guys were. Stephanie wasn't about to punish two of them.

  “And what took you so long to get here?” John demanded, hanging up and rolling over to her desk in his chair. “It's almost ten!”

  “I had breakfast with Lina,” Stephanie answered, glancing at him.

  “And what does the Widow have caught in her web today?” he asked with a teasing grin.

  “Jenaro Gomez,” Stephanie told him.

  The grin disappeared and John stared at her.

  “What?!” he yelled.

  Stephanie hushed him, rolling her eyes and glancing around. A few people glanced over and John lowered his voice.

  “Explain!” he hissed.

  “I can't,” Stephanie answered. “Let's just say he's not going to be our problem for much longer.”

  “Oh, you have to explain this,” John said, leaning forward in his chair imploringly.

  “I can't,” Stephanie insisted. “I only told you so you wouldn't waste too much time on him. He's gone.”

  “Well, I know he's gone,” John muttered. “Is he gone and might come back?”

  “Highly unlikely,” she murmured, “unless he learns the art of reincarnation.”

  John sat back in his chair.

  “So that's it,” he said. “Are we telling Blake?”

  “No.” Stephanie shook her head. “I have a feeling we won't have to.”

  “How so?”

  “Just call it a hunch.”