Tuff Enough

by Samantha A. Cole

  “So, what happens if those two are removed from the dogs? I assume they end up with different ciphers, and if there’s no way to get them all on the same code again, then they’re useless. Wait, you said ‘almost completely intact.’”

  Nodding, Dobrowski said, “Right. There’s a fourth microchip out there—we believe Dr. DeWitt implanted it in herself—that would bring the others back in sync again and complete the formulas for both the agent and the antidote. She must’ve panicked when her coworkers were killed and thought no one would suspect the chips were in the dogs—unfortunately, she was wrong. A day or two after she implanted them, her sister and brother-in-law were murdered, the dogs were taken, and Dr. DeWitt disappeared.”

  Dusty let out a low whistle before asking, “Do you think she’s dead after all this time or still in hiding?”

  “She’s of no use to anyone dead as long as she has the chip in her body,” Chan responded. “Her chip would have a failsafe that ensures if she dies, so do both formulas. However, once her chip is put back with the others, and the code is deciphered, her usefulness will be over.”

  Tuff’s eyes narrowed. “But with Meat’s recovered, whoever’s after his chip can’t complete the formula, even if they find DeWitt, right?”

  “Wrong,” said Chase. “With three of the four parts intact, they’d force her to recreate the rest of the formula. Intellectually, she’s on a genius level—it wouldn’t take much for her to complete it again.”

  “And once she does, she’s a dead woman.”

  “Right.”

  Crap. “Do we have any idea who’s behind this whole mess? I can’t see the Russians hanging out with a local gang of dog fighters.”

  “We believe the AAB is behind it,” Dowbroski said. “They found out about the formula and are willing to kill to get it.”

  Well, shit. The al-Ashtar Brigades was an Iran-backed terrorist group in Bahrain, that’d received a US State Department Terrorist Designation (SDTD) in March of 2017. It was one of over two dozen currently active terrorist cells that had the potential and desire to do major damage to the United States and its European allies. If an organization was on SDTD list, then all efforts were made to curtail their access to resources that could be used to plan and carry out terrorist attacks. If they got their hands on the BR7-MX formula, they’d undoubtably use it in a heartbeat.

  The agent continued. “We—that being the Navy, NSA, and Deimos—have been searching for Dr. DeWitt since her disappearance. She must’ve known she might have to go into hiding, someday, given the work she does, because she’s done a damn good job of staying off the radar. Her last known location was from a week after she disappeared. She crossed the border into Canada at Niagara Falls under a fake passport. After that—poof.”

  “Getting back to the dog fighting ring . . . ” Chan said. “Ms. Gordon, the next images please.” The computer geek tapped her tablet yet again, and two photos appeared. The one of the left, Tuff knew well—it was latest mugshot of the bastard who’d attacked Chet and her mom. He’d never seen the Middle-Eastern man in the second photo before. “Jose Martinez was hired by this man—Nasser bin Sayyid—to kill the Robertsons and steal the dogs. It’s our belief, Martinez’s plans to hand over the dogs were thwarted when the police and ACOs raided his gang’s fighting operation.”

  A few things became clear to Tuff, the primary one being Martinez must have known that his relationship with known terrorists, and assisting them in crimes against the US, would result in charges of treason. Since a weapon of mass destruction was involved, he’d never see the outside of a prison for the rest of his life and would probably be shafted within days of his incarceration. Oddly, among prisoners, treason ranked up there as a despicable offense, just below child rape and abuse. Despite being incarcerated, many prisoners remained patriotic in their own way.

  Even if Martinez made some sort of deal, he never would’ve avoided the jail time and would’ve eventually been outed as a traitor. As it was now, he’d be out in a few years, still breathing and with all his body parts intact.

  Silence filled the room as everyone digested the facts for a few moments. Finally, Chan said, “As they’ve been doing for weeks now, the three agencies will continue to try to find Dr. DeWitt. We’ve asked numerous private contractors, Trident and Blackhawk included, to tap their resources to help. We also need to find the two missing dogs, which we hope are still in this area and are easier to find than Dr. DeWitt. Until we—and the terrorists—know if she’s dead or not, then the possibility of BR7-MX being used to kill thousands of people is high.” She glanced at Irv. “Obviously, the Navy and US government want her alive. If it turns out she ran for her own safety and that of country, then I’m sure AWOL and any other charges will be discouraged by POTUS.” She and her partner stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “Dixon, Sawyer, as I stated earlier, we’ll be your contacts down here, but Assistant Director Kilmas at the NSA can be reached in DC, if needed. Let us know if you need anything, and we’ll keep you in the loop from our end.”

  She looked at Tuff. “By the way, I’ve instructed one of our computer techs to make it known on the Dark Web that Meat no longer has the chip implanted in him. That should keep him and Ms. Suarez safe.”

  He stood and shook her hand. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate that. I’ll let her know and keep the confidential stuff out of it.”

  “Good.”

  Minutes later, the only people left in the room were the men from BHS and Sawyer. Meat had finally woken up and realized the object of his adoration was there. He was now sitting next to Sawyer, staring at the man whose earlier stoic expression had spread into one of amusement. He pulled out the pouch of dog treats from his side-thigh pocket and, after a few commands and responses, handed one over.

  Chase laughed. “I’m going to tell Beau you’re cheating on him and giving another dog his treats.”

  “Beau gets plenty of them from my wife. Trust me, that dog is spoiled rotten now thanks to her.” He gave Meat an ear scratch, which was met with a loud groan of ecstasy.

  The BHS boss snorted, then addressed Tuff and his teammates. “First thing in the morning, you four are assigned to tracking down the two missing dogs. If you need anything, and Gordo’s busy, call Cooke or Evans over at Trident.” He got to his feet and glanced at Sawyer and then Irv. “Whose turn is it to buy dinner?”

  Sawyer raised his hand as he stood. “Mine. Angie’s got a few girlfriends over, fussing over what else we need for the baby’s room—as if there isn’t an entire baby store in there already.”

  As the three men began to file out of the conference room, Meat tried to follow Sawyer, but the man stopped and gave the command to stay. The dog wasn’t happy about it, but he did as he was told with a low whine. Tuff shook his head as he stood and said, “See you guys in the morning. C’mon, Meatball—let’s get home to your momma. She’ll spoil you plenty too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chet’s gut clenched when she pulled into her driveway and saw a BMW parked in Tuff’s spot. Standing on the front porch in front of her door was the last person she wanted to see today, if ever. Her shitty day had just gotten shittier.

  Damn it. How the hell had her ex-husband found out where she was living? Actually, it probably hadn’t been that hard. She was sure mutual friends talked, whether innocently or not, and eventually someone had probably told him. If not, Roland could have easily used his brother’s status as the mayor of St. Petersburg to find out. Chet’s address was on file with the City of Tampa’s payroll department and had been listed in the recent police reports on her vandalized car and the incident with Martinez.

  She’d hoped to find Tuff and Meat home already after the day she’d had. Leo had bitched and moaned for the rest of the shift about her interference on the call with Mrs. Powell. Before Chet could take him back to the ACO headquarters, Des had texted her to say he needed to leave work early after his sister had called. Their elderly mother had fal
len and been taken to the hospital. He’d postponed the meeting with Leo until tomorrow morning, which meant Chet had needed to finish the shift with the probationary ACO. At least, Des’s mother hadn’t been seriously injured; she’d just broken her wrist.

  Now, to top everything off, Chet had to deal with her ex-husband. Unfortunately, Roland had seen her pull in, so it would be childish for her to back up and drive away. It was probably a good thing Tuff and Meat weren’t here. Maybe she could get rid of him before they got home.

  Putting the SUV in park, Chet shut off the engine, grabbed her purse, and opened the door. Roland was already on his way down the steps. His movements were slow and uncoordinated, and she knew instantly he’d been drinking. Shit.

  “Where the hell have you been?” he slurred.

  “What are you doing here, Roland?”

  “Looking for my wife.” He glared at her with watery, bloodshot eyes. His shirt and dress pants were disheveled. Either he’d been drinking in his office—he’d had a wet bar installed shortly after they’d been married—or he’d enjoyed a liquid lunch at one of the upscale restaurants he frequented.

  She took several steps back as he advanced toward her. Reaching around to her lower back, she reassured herself that her gun was there but didn’t pull it out. It was still daylight out, and she could hear some of the neighborhood kids playing in one of the cul-de-sac’s backyards. “I’m no longer your wife, and you’re violating the order of protection.”

  A snort escaped him before his mouth turned up in sneer. How she’d ever thought the man was handsome was beyond her. He was downright ugly, especially when he was drunk.

  As she took another step back, Chet tripped on the edge of the driveway where it met the lawn. Roland reached out and grabbed her upper arm, preventing her fall but digging his fingers into her flesh until she cried out in pain.

  Spittle flew from his mouth as he snarled, “Fuck the order of protection. You’re my wife damn it, and I’ll fuck my wife anytime I want.”

  What? Oh, hell, no!

  As he pulled her toward him, Chet regained her balance and didn’t hesitate as she brought her knee up fast and hard. Roland howled in pain and dropped to the ground in a fetal position. “You bitch! Ohhhh God, you fucking bitch!”

  Before Chet could do anything else, screeching tires caught her attention, and she turned to see Tuff parking his truck behind both vehicles in the driveway. He leaped from the driver’s seat and rushed to her side, glaring at Roland who was still in agony on the ground. In Tuff’s truck, Meat was going ballistic, barking and trying to get through the closed window.

  “Chet! Are you okay?”

  She let Tuff pull her into his arms, noticing her limbs were now shaking from the adrenaline. “Y-Yes. I’m fine.”

  “Good. I was pulling up and saw him grab you—holy shit, baby. Remind me to never piss you off enough to make you take a knee to me. You dropped him like a ton of bricks.”

  “You fucking cunt!”

  Tuff froze at Roland’s shout, and Chet looked up at his face. Uh-oh. This isn’t going to be good.

  As he started to pull away from her, she grabbed his arms. “Tuff, don’t. Please.”

  He ignored her plea, rage flaring in his eyes. Reaching down, he grabbed her ex-husband by the hair, eliciting another scream of pain. Then Tuff did something that confused Chet—he pointed his key fob at his truck. To her amazement, the windows rolled down. As soon as he could, Meat leaped through the opening of the front passenger window before charging forward. She was about to lunge for him and order him to halt, but Tuff beat her to it. “Platz!”

  Meat stopped in his tracks, still barking like mad, but didn’t lay down like he was supposed to. At least he’d learned the more important part of the command. In Tuff’s grasp, Roland was desperately trying to get to his feet and away from both the pissed-off man holding him and the equally pissed-off dog. Leaning down, Tuff got in the other man’s face. “Give me a reason—one fucking reason for me to give him the command to tear you from limb to limb.”

  Roland struggled against the hold. “Ge-Get off me! Keep him away from me!”

  “One reason, asshole!” Tuff shook him like a wet rag. “C’mon! Or are you too chicken-shit to pick on someone your own size?”

  Using his free hand, Tuff grabbed Roland’s shirt and hauled him upright before shoving him against the side of Chet’s SUV. “If I ever see you within a hundred yards of Chet, I’ll beat the living crap out of you then order my dog to piss on whatever’s left of you. Got it?” When he didn’t get an answer, Tuff shook him again. “Fucking answer me, dickhead—do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  “Yeah . . . yeah! All right. I’ll leave—leave her alone.”

  Tuff tossed Roland back to the ground again as two police cars pulled up. Chet’s eyes narrowed as she wondered which neighbor had called them, but Tuff turned to her and said, “I was on the phone with Brody Evans at Trident when I pulled into cul-de-sac. I told him to send the cops over before I got out of my truck. With them on their way, I wouldn’t be tempted to kill the bastard and hide his body.”

  The two officers obviously knew Tuff because, when they approached, they greeted him with smiles and handshakes. Within fifteen minutes, Roland was handcuffed and in the back of one of the patrol cars, on his way to booking for a violation of the OP and public intoxication. The only reason they couldn’t add on a DUI charge was no one present had seen him in the driver’s seat of his BMW.

  As a tow truck arrived to haul Roland’s pride and joy out of the driveway, Tuff gave Chet a swift kiss on the mouth. “Take Meat inside and feed him—he’s had an eventful day too. I’ll be there in a few minutes. We can reheat the leftovers from last night. Sound good?”

  She hugged him around the waist, resting her head on his hard chest for a moment. “It sounds fantastic.” Chet was about to walk toward the stairs, with Meat’s leash in her hand, when a thought occurred to her. “Hey, Tuff? What’s with the windows on your truck?”

  He smirked. “A new little gadget I had the BHS mechanics put in—it’s the same thing the K9 officers have in their vehicles. A push of the button on the fob and the windows roll down. I figured with Meat in my truck a lot, it might come in handy—guess I was right. Cool, huh?”

  “Very. I might have to have that installed in my SUV.”

  “I’ll ask when I can bring it in; the guys will have it done in about an hour.”

  “Great, but I insist on paying for it.” She’d figured out that Tuff told little white lies sometimes when it came to buying her things, not that it upset her. It made her feel special that he was constantly making sure she was safe without suffocating her.

  Cupping her chin, he leaned down and kissed her again. “I’ll pay them, and then you can pay me by doing another striptease like you did the other night. Baby, that was hot as hell.”

  She brushed her lips across his. Damn, she loved this man. “You got yourself a deal.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chet perched on one of the two chairs in Des’s office, waiting for her boss and Leo to come in. She was so not looking forward to this conversation, but, as the training ACO, she needed to be present as Des went over her evaluation sheets of Leo’s performance during the past several weeks. Hopefully, within the hour, she’d be in her assigned vehicle in blessed silence. It would be a week or so before she had a new probie riding with her. With any luck, they’d be as quiet as a mouse.

  Her mind flashed to two hours ago, when she’d been lying in bed with Tuff. He’d shocked the hell out of her when he’d suggested they move in together.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Chet asked, snuggling into his side as her fingers traced one of the tattoos on his bare chest. She had twenty minutes before she had to get up and in the shower, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. She’d give anything to stay in bed, wrapped up in the arms of the man she loved.

  “They’re worth more than that.”

  S
he giggled. “Okay, how about a buck?”

  Chet felt rather than heard him snort. “Um . . . I was just wondering . . . how averse would your mom be to us moving in together?”

  “What?” She quickly sat upright, her stunned gaze meeting his apprehensive one. “Are you serious?”

  His eyebrows raised. “Too soon? I love you, baby.” He cupped her cheek, and she nuzzled his palm. “I never thought I’d ever meet someone who would wrangle my heart and make me want things I never knew I was missing. Someday, I’d love to put a ring on your finger and a baby in your womb, but I think the first step should be making sure I don’t drive you crazy within any habits I’ve developed.”

  “What kind of habits?” she asked with narrowed eyes.

  A devilish smile spread across his handsome face. “Well, stuff like I love to eat your pussy any chance I get and give you as many orgasms as possible on a regular basis. I’ll want you naked and in my bed all the time. I’ll spoil your dog with bones from the butcher.”

  “I noticed you called him your dog last night when you were threatening Roland.”

  His eyes danced in amusement. “Oh, that wasn’t a threat, sweetheart, that was a promise. Just make sure Meat’s rabies vaccination stays up to date so he doesn’t have to be quarantined after making hamburger out of the jackass.” He paused as she laughed, then said, “So, you didn’t answer my question? Will you move in with me, and how pissed will your mom be if you do? You know, just so I know how much I have to butter her up.”

  “My mom loves you. I don’t think she’ll have any problem with us moving in together.”

  “And what about you? Do you have any problem with us moving in together?”