Extracting Mateo

by Tl Reeve

  “I honestly don’t have an answer for you, Noah. R.O.O.T clearance is one of the highest levels. Very few are above you. The President and the Vice President. Directors of the FBI and CIA, HHS, NSA, and the Secretary of State are higher.”

  “We need his file, uncle.”

  “Then you’ll have it, Asher,” McNamara promised. “Give me an hour.”

  With that, the line disconnected and silence filled the room. None of them said a word while they waited.

  Noah glanced over at their newest additions. They kept themselves occupied, and Noah wondered how much AJ had translated for Scotty. AJ pushed a lock of her chestnut hair over her ear. There was something about them he couldn’t put his finger on. They were inseparable for sure, but there’d been more to it, he just didn’t know what. It had been obvious she took care of Scotty, and the guy...without having to see him in action, Noah realized the kid would do whatever it took to protect her.

  He exhaled and began to pace the length of the room. If he sat down, he’d bounce his knee because he’d had so much pent up nervous energy. Understanding the full ramifications of what kind of shitshow all of them had been dropped into in the last three-ish months, roiled his gut. Their lives since the minute Lincoln and Barclay darkened their fuckin’ door had been FUBAR—Fucked Up Beyond All Repair. The dirty bastard had brought nothing but heartache and destruction to the base.

  He kind of wished they hadn’t arrested the bastard and, instead, killed his ass, making it seem like some overly complicated freak accident. At least then Dario, or who they suspected was Dario, wouldn’t have sought out Mateo. Noah glanced at the door. He needed a damn smoke to calm himself, but it would mean walking past Asher to sneak said smoke, without being called out or getting caught. The minute he’d return, Asher would smell it on him, and Noah would automatically lose their bet.

  It wasn’t worth it. Maybe if he had his sniper rifle and a moving target it’d take his mind of this stupid bullshit. Or better yet, he thought, I need Mattie. His husband would help better than the other two.

  We got Edwin’s file.

  Those four little words AJ spoke for Scotty had Noah standing up before leaning over and banging on the glass. Asher wouldn’t hear it, but Noah knew he’d see it. Asher pulled off his headset, throwing it on the desk before he walked back to the room where they all waited, impatiently.

  “What do you have?” Asher said, in a clipped tone.

  It’s over a Terabyte of data. How’d you want me to do this?

  Knowing Scotty wasn’t Murray and therefore not familiar with how they worked, Noah stepped forward. “Search for anything related to Lincoln, when you find it, send the data to the screen, it’ll handle it no matter how big or small the amount. While you’re doing that, load the entire file to one of the holographic screens. We’ll kill two birds with one stone.”

  Scotty nodded after AJ relayed the information then signed, Okay.

  The entire file loaded to the screen on the right. Noah went to it, while Asher began to review the things Scotty loaded relating directly Lincoln. Together, they moved all of the videos to one section, memos, and documents prudent to what they felt linked back to R.O.O.T and the reason Dario had beef with R.O.O.T to another.

  Most of what Noah saw dealt with Lincoln, and Scotty hadn’t lied. The file on Edwin Breslow was big, but between Asher and him they were able to move through all the information at a relatively quick pace.

  “Lincoln’s treachery has no bounds,” Noah muttered as he pushed the last file over.

  Asher sighed. “And still no connection to R.O.O.T from what I can see.”

  But there is. The all turned to where Scotty sat.

  “How so?” Noah asked perplexed. Granted they hadn’t read the entire file in detail, but neither he or Asher had found any mention of R.O.O.T or even McNamara.

  I’m going to assume from Asher’s comment, Lincoln’s locked up somewhere where he most likely won’t see the light of day for many, many years.

  Asher snorted. “You’d assume correctly.”

  Here’s my guess. If you heard the one person who’d been connected to the Aquila Cartel had been in Colombia the day people were murdered, including Aquila men, wouldn’t you be pissed?

  Noah contemplated what the kid said. No one knew about Lincoln’s connection, other than cartel members had died. “That’s a stretch kid.”

  Is it, though? Think about it. Dario’s family knew the ins and outs of the Aquila Cartel. They knew about the guerrillas. Knew about the Coca fields. Edwin was about to turn state’s evidence when, somehow, someone told the head of the Aquila Cartel what the family was up to? Don’t you find it suspicious?

  Well, explained that way... “Keep going.”

  Dario wants Lincoln, and he’s been working toward this moment for the last ten years. He knows he can’t get to him now. Not without help. Specifically R.O.O.T’s help. I’m betting he kidnapped Mateo to blackmail Noah to help him locate or even get to Lincoln. His one connection to Lincoln is R.O.O.T.

  Noah snorted in disbelief. The kid had a point. Only one problem with his theory. “I don’t know where Lincoln is. None of us do.”

  Asher does.

  “Then why didn’t he go after Rae?”

  How, though? From my understanding, Rae rarely has left the base since Lincoln was arrested. Only for the hearings, and only ever with heavily armed guards. None of the other men on the team have a significate other, or love interest. Therefore, logically, his only move is Mateo.

  “I’ve kept Mattie a secret for ten years, Scotty. No one knew about us,” Noah reminded him.

  Have you, though?

  Noah knew he had, otherwise he’d have never married Mateo and placed him in line of fire. “I have.” The only person who might have any information about them was Asher. Yet, his commander never questioned Noah in the entire time he worked together.

  Nothing is ever a secret, though. Not in the digital age. Records are scanned. Pictures are taken. Marriage licenses are recorded and considered a matter of public record.

  Scotty's fingers flew over the holographic keyboard, and in seconds an image of Noah and Mateo's marriage license appeared on the screen.

  “Son of a bitch,” Noah groaned.

  Lincoln destroyed this man’s family. Killed his mother, tortured him and his brother. Dario Breslow is a man out for revenge.

  “From what I just briefly read, Edwin Breslow was no boy scout, he put his family into this position with the choices he made,” Noah affirmed.

  “He’s right,” Asher said. “Sometimes, we’re too close and don’t see what’s right in front of our eyes.” Asher pulled up a memo dated six weeks ago from the agent in charge of the case. “The file was locked when the FBI received an anonymous tip about Lincoln potentially being involved in this case. Prior to that, Matthias Lincoln’s name is never mentioned.”

  Correct. Edwin knew Lincoln was connected; he just hadn’t gotten that far when he turned himself in. He was working on a deal. According to the notes from the AIC, the FBI was hesitating about providing witness protection to the entire family, stating the cartel had no ties or connections to the United States, and, therefore, the family was safe.

  “Edwin knew better, though,” Noah replied as he scanned the document Scotty referred to.

  Having one’s wife murdered will do that to you. Scotty hit the keys and another report showed on the screen. This time it was pictures of Meredith Breslow and an independent autopsy report.

  “That wasn’t in what you showed us earlier,” Asher sated.

  No, it wasn’t. This was filed in the report less than four weeks ago. Someone in the government re-opened the case. They’ve found evidence her death wasn’t an accident. It was murder.

  “A brutal one, going by the pictures,” Noah remarked.

  They were smart, covered up her death with a serious car accident in a town known to have incompetent police and coroners’ offices. Forensic was decent ten years
ago, nothing like what we can do now.

  Noah shook his head. “They considered her collateral damage.”

  More or less. After more than a few threats were made, Edwin pushed even harder for protection, stating he had evidence of an important Senator who had connections to the Aquila Cartel. It was only then that the field agent working the case was given approval to set up protection for the family, as long as Edwin Breslow’s information checked out. Edwin had a meeting the day before he and his sons went missing, and he was subsequently killed.

  Noah scratched at his chin. “How’d the sons get away from the cartel, then? That’s not normal standard operating procedure for drug dealers of their caliber.”

  By accident. The police were running a drug raid in the area. One of their men came across the boys, near death, shackled together in an abandoned building after an—Scotty made finger quotes—anonymous tip came in about hearing screaming coming from a building.

  Asher swore. “And now the son has a bone to pick with us.”

  In my estimation, we’re just a means to an end for Dario.

  Asher tapped on the desk. “Something still isn’t adding up for me. We’ve missed something...something important. Dario Breslow, by all accounts, is an everyday man, yet he’s not.”

  I’ll keep digging.

  Asher nodded.

  “Send copies of this file and the information you gathered to the team. We’ll review it and see if one of us can find the missing piece,” Noah stated.

  “Fuck me, Noah. I might have to schedule a trip to a dark hole to meet with an old foe.” Asher grunted.

  Noah snorted. “Lincoln won’t give you jack shit without a price.”

  Asher smirked. “I don’t have the power to lessen his time, neither does my uncle.”

  “If that’s what he wants. He’s evil incarnate, Asher, with a reach that goes deep and far,” Noah reminded him. “Has he had any outside contact?”

  Asher shrugged. “Not to my knowledge. But I’m not often told of what happens to those we bring to trial for their crimes against humanity. You know this.”

  “I do. Can you find out?”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “A lot, unfortunately,” Noah admitted. “What if Dario is working with Lincoln, and this is just another ploy to bring R.O.O.T down.”

  “You really think Dario could be working with Lincoln?”

  Noah shrugged. “After the shit, we've seen?”

  “Lincoln conspired with a cartel to have Dario’s parents murdered, and his actions indirectly caused his brother to end up in a mental facility. Do you honestly think Dario Breslow is being controlled by Lincoln from inside a prison?”

  “Stranger things have happened. I just want us to cover all our bases,” Noah said. “You’d do no different if it was Rae who had been threatened or kidnapped.”

  “You’re right.” Asher laid his hand on Noah’s shoulder. “We’ll come at this from every angle.”

  “I know we will, boss.” Noah also realized Mateo would only remain pacified for so long. Soon his husband would begin to push to go back to their home. The risks were too high, though. He wouldn’t let Mateo take a single step outside of base until Dario Breslow was in custody or six feet under. He didn’t give a shit how much Mateo fussed or protested him on it.

  Chapter 5

  Mateo woke to Noah’s side of the bed being empty, not an uncommon occurrence since they’d begun living together. The lies, though... Those were more common than waking alone, it would seem. He scrubbed his face, careful of the stitches near his brow, then pushed the blankets off of himself and headed for the bathroom.

  What the hell am I doing here? Why do I feel so alone?

  He snorted. Alone wasn’t half of it. Mateo stared at his reflection in the mirror and frowned. Rae hadn’t prepared him for the swelling or the black eye. Par for the course, he figured. He flipped on the shower then waited for it to warm. Without his phone, which he’d dropped at the scene, he couldn’t call into work and let them know he wouldn’t be there. Which meant someone might be looking for him or blowing up his phone with texts and voicemails.

  He couldn’t have that.

  After everything he’d been through in the past forty-eight plus hours, he couldn’t put anyone else in harm’s way. He didn’t want the responsibility or the guilt. He had to find a phone. He had to make the call. He had to do it before anyone began to worry and did something stupid or dangerous.

  But, first things first. He needed a shower.

  Mateo stepped into the water and let out a soft sigh. The headache he'd been trying to control with the pain medication Rae gave him, came back to life in roaring clarity. His head felt like it was splitting in two. Fuck. He allowed the water to cascade across his shoulders, loosening up the tight muscles and easing the tension building at the back of his head. When he’d been sure he could open his eyes without the shooting agony sparking across his skull, he made quick work of cleaning up. He had too much to do. Too many questions to ask to while away in the warm water. Once he rinsed off, he turned the knob off and grabbed for the nearest towel, but came up empty.

  He frowned.

  “Looking for this?” Noah stood in front of him, towel in hand.

  “Thanks,” Mateo mumbled.

  “I brought you some breakfast. I thought you could use it before taking your meds.”

  He could. At least with his meal already there, it was one less thing he had to do. “I appreciate it.”

  Noah cupped Mateo’s face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. “Mattie...”

  “I need time,” he said. “I also have to call work.” He moved away from Noah’s embrace. Last night had been a mistake. He shouldn’t have acquiesced as easily as he had.

  “You do,” Noah agreed. “Do you know what you want to tell them?”

  He snorted then winced. “Not likely. Can’t really say, hey I was kidnapped, but don’t worry, my buff, lying husband rescued me. I just can’t come back until the bad guy is found.”

  Noah’s jaw tightened as he looked away. “You’re right.”

  “I’ll tell them I need an extended period of time off. A few weeks.” Mateo moved to the small table where Noah had left a stack of clothes for him. “No underwear?” He quirked a brow.

  “Not really a priority around here.”

  “Easy access,” Mateo stated.

  “I haven't cheated on you if that's what you're insinuating.”

  “Funny you found the need to reassure me you haven't, yet you hid everything else.” Noah opened his mouth to speak, and Mateo held up his hand. “You explained last night. I don't understand it; however, I get it.”

  “Mattie, it’s not...” Noah blew out a breath. “I’ll get you an encrypted line to make your call. Eat and take your meds. Don’t need Doc Rae on my ass for not taking care of you properly.”

  Before Mateo could say anything else, Noah stomped out of his room. The small fire escape map on the wall beside the door rattled at the force of Noah closing it. Damn it. He and Noah rarely fought. They were more than compatible. They were in sync about everything, except this. He didn't know if he could get over the lies. Over the amount of time, he thought Noah was just a few hundred miles away, not several thousand. Nor the fact he could have been killed every time he left.

  His stomach gave a hardy rumble, and his mouth watered at the scent of the food his husband brought him. Every time he built up the resolve to stay mad at Noah, his husband had to do something nice, to make Mateo second guess himself. Once he was dressed, Mateo tore into the breakfast burrito with gusto. He felt famished. Like he'd been a week without food and not hours. Everything had been perfect with the right amount of spice and cheese. Just the way he liked everything—a bit spicy with a hint of savory.

  After he finished eating, he grabbed the two bottles next to the bed and dumped out a couple of pills. Mateo swallowed them down with the bottle of orange juice accompanying his breakfast. Finally, the hammering
ache in his head dulled. He found a pair of boots near the door and grabbed them. When Noah returned or whoever, he wanted to be ready to leave. The longer he was left with his thoughts the darker they’d become, tainting every aspect of his relationship with Noah.

  A soft knock came at the door, and Mateo knew it wasn't Noah. He wouldn't have knocked. Even if he was angry at his husband, they never needed permission to enter any space they shared. Mateo crossed to the door and opened it. There stood Doctor Rae. She wore a sympathetic smile. Her eyes, though tired, were kind, and she looked a little frazzled around the edges.

  “You look like shit, Doc,” Mateo said, stepping aside.

  She rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Just a little boy who was running too high of a fever because of a cold.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah,” she answered, entering his room. “Got him to sleep and brought his fever down. It happens. He’s not why I’m here, though.”

  “Oh?”

  “Noah said you needed a secure line out, and I have it for you.” She presented him with a satellite phone. “I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling right now.”

  He snorted. “Can’t you, though?”

  “My experience is different, Mateo.” She gave him a soft reassuring smile. “Yours is more traumatic. You weren’t stationed in a jungle. You didn’t pay a protection tax to make sure your clinic didn’t wind up burning down. I did. Seeing the cartel once a month was part and parcel of my job. You’re a high school teacher. You live in a bubble of safety.”

  He frowned.

  “That’s not a slight in the least bit. It’s the truth. You were brought into a situation you were woefully ignorant to.” She squeezed his arm. “Noah kept you blind to this to keep you safe.”

  “I don’t know about all of that,” he said, staring down at the phone. “Telling the truth would have prepared me better for being taken.”

  “See, this is the reason he didn’t tell you.” She sighed and sat on the small couch across from where he stood. “He didn’t want you to have to prepare for anything. To have to worry. To have to take off your rose-colored glasses. Now, you see the world around you in the bright vibrant colors of greed and destruction. Of taint and depravity.”