by G. K. Parks
“Truthfully, the job didn’t help.”
“But you were always jaded. Tough childhood?”
“Who the hell has it easy these days? But I’m not about to run off and start a cult, so I guess it wasn’t that tough.”
Decker scratched at his beard, like it was something unfamiliar and itchy. “Are you able to empathize with Wilde or the people who follow him?”
Stopping in my tracks, I waited for Decker to turn around and face me. The confusion on his face was evident, and he furrowed his brow, waiting for an explanation for the delay. “What kind of question is that?”
“An honest one.” He narrowed his eyes. “Agent Parker, are you capable of empathizing with these people?”
“Shit happens. People do what they have to in order to survive. When they start preying on others, I tend to take issue with that. These so-called followers might very well be victims. I’m not in the business of ruining the lives of innocent people, but until I’m aware of the precise circumstances, I can’t answer that question.”
He snorted, turning back around and continuing down the corridor. “You’re also not in the business of giving straight answers.” He spun. “Keep up. We have lots to explore and more to discuss.” Walking backward, he continued to study me. “What happened to Agent Lucca? He was tasked with the research. I spoke to him on the phone. Shouldn’t he be here instead of you?”
Snorting, I barely managed to contain my eye roll. “He was on loan to our office in order to complete a mission. He’s back in D.C. now. And from what I heard, you weren’t particularly happy with the intel he provided anyway.”
“Sticking up for your partner.” Decker nodded. “I like that. I didn’t expect that, not after the physical altercation the two of you had a few months ago.”
“How the hell do you know about that?”
“I read your file.” He slowed his pace, turning around so we were facing the same direction. “Wait one second.” The door in front of us burst open, and six men in full tactical assault gear emptied out of the room, moving swiftly down the hallway and out the door. “Just like clockwork.” He checked his watch. “Damn, it would absolutely drive me crazy.” He poked his head into the room, watching some of the support staff clear up the paperwork. “Grab me that file when you get a chance,” he called to someone inside before turning his attention back to me. “Does the OIO function with such precision? I mean our tac teams plan their assaults to the second. I don’t get it. How can they pinpoint actionable intel that accurately? Like you said, shit happens, but they have no qualms about coordinating precision raids.”
“Sometimes it’s necessary.”
“Yeah, sorry, I’m not exactly a planner. I react to changing situations.” He gestured at someone inside the room and checked his watch again. “Have you seen the backyard yet?” I shook my head, and he chuckled. “Come on, you at least ought to get to take a look before we exile you.” He took a sharp right and led me past several more rooms filled with agents in the midst of briefings.
I must have seen at least twenty different agents fulfilling different roles, and that didn’t even begin to count the number of unexplored areas inside the vast estate. “How many people are tasked with cracking Wilde?”
Decker laughed, putting a gentle hand at the small of my back while he entered a code to unlock the door. “You met my team. There are six of us, Stella, Matt, Ben, Carlo, Eve, and me. Everyone else has another mission in play. You have to keep in mind we’re incredibly close to LA, Nevada, and the Mexican border. This is prime real estate for the DEA, and given the size and magnitude of this place, we like to use it for pretty much everything. It’s much better than the stuffy offices in the federal building with their outdated tech and facilities. Everything here is shiny, new, and state of the art.” He led me out onto the deck, overlooking two incredibly large and slightly pornographic hot tubs.
“Like the set of giant tits?” I asked, nodding at the view from the top. The interior tiling was flesh colored with rose pink tiling in the center. “It coordinates great with the chandelier.”
“I see you have an eye for detail.” He leaned back against the railing, resting his elbows on the edge while he stared down at me. He was five ten, probably a hundred and sixty-five pounds of lean muscle. “Or you enjoy the female form, not that I would blame you.”
“You mean to tell me my sexual orientation wasn’t included in my file,” I snapped. This guy appeared to be all over the place, but I knew enough to realize every question was part of some kind of test.
“It wasn’t, but you know that.” His eyes traveled the length of my body but didn’t linger. “I’m also sure that I don’t need you to answer the question. And for the record, I won’t sleep with you, at least not during the mission.” But despite the backhanded way he said it, I had just been greenlit for the operation.
“Trust me, that won’t be an issue. In what capacity did you want my assistance on the Wilde case?”
Decker grinned. “You’ll be joining me undercover. Have you UCed before?”
“I thought you read my file.”
“I did.” He grinned. “I just have one final question.”
Nodding, I waited.
“Are you a recovering addict?”
“No. Jablonsky told me there were notes explaining that wonky drug test.”
“There are.” Decker moved away from me, opening the door and calling to someone inside the house. A moment later, he held out a folder. “I just wanted to gauge your response, see if it made you nervous.” He leaned closer, narrowing his eyes. “Do I make you nervous?”
I practically scoffed at the notion, reaching for the folder. He pulled it away before I could grab it. His blue eyes found mine, and for a long moment, it felt like he was searching for some kind of answer.
“You’re not nervous to be here. Or anxious. You’ve been professional and tried to make a good impression, but you’re not an ass-kisser either. And you don’t take shit from anyone. Frankly, I’m having trouble figuring out if you volunteered for this or if someone forced you to take the assignment.”
“I’m sure there’s a note somewhere in my file that says I don’t play well with others. After all, you know Lucca and I came to blows.”
“And yet I feel like there’s more to that story.”
I looked away. “It doesn’t matter, and for the record, I volunteered.” I held out my hand for the file again. “What do you want me to do with this? Shred it? File it? Mail it back to the OIO?”
“It’s not your file, Alexis. It’s mine.” Dropping it in my hand, he moved toward the staircase. “I’ve had an unfair advantage. I already know you on paper, and after talking with you these last few minutes, I think we can work together. But you get a say in the matter. I don’t care if you volunteered. This is a shit assignment. I’ve been under for eight months already. I don’t want to spend another eight with someone I don’t trust and don’t like. You should get to decide the same thing. Take your time, read my file, and when you’re done, I’ll be downstairs near the tit pools.”
“Decker,” I called, stopping him from leaving, “I’m here. I told my boss I was committed to this. I can get the job done. It doesn’t matter what’s in here.” I held up the folder.
“Jablonsky’s waiting for a call from my assistant director to make sure we want to keep you. Whatever you decide, it won’t impact your career any. This is just how I work, and my team knows it.”
“I didn’t realize you were in charge.”
“I’m not, but I’m a valuable asset. And since I’m willing to go deep for the long haul, they grant me certain concessions. Now get to reading.” He went down two steps before turning back around. “And my friends call me Jace, not Agent Decker.”
“Is that your undercover handle?”
He snorted. “It’s a nickname, short for Jackson. Weren’t you paying attention when I introduced myself?”
I shook my head. “I must have been too busy
wondering how I’d lure you into bed.”
Opening the file, I read through his history. Immediately, I stopped, staring at his academic background. Most FBI agents held advanced degrees, typically law or accounting, unless they specialized in foreign language or culture, had computer or technical backgrounds, or were skilled in some other manner. A lot also had military or law enforcement experience. I imagined the DEA had a similar set of requirements. However, Decker did not fit the profile.
Decker’s academic background was one of clinical psychology. He was top of his class, had his pick of fellowships and internships, and probably his pick of jobs. Unlike most who hung a shingle and opened their own practice, he worked as a prison counselor for several years in addition to working inside addiction rehabilitation centers.
While those were admirable qualities, I automatically reassessed every syllable I’d spoken to him. It was no secret that I wasn’t a fan of psychobabble. Mandated therapy sessions had always been the most loathsome part of my career and a large factor that led to my brief resignation. How the hell was I supposed to work in close quarters with someone that would make me paranoid? Then again, he wasn’t a shrink now. He was an undercover drug enforcement agent. And truth be told, I would rather pull out my own fingernails than go home at this point.
Reading beyond his background, I scanned through his commendations and evaluation reports, finding that he was a very skilled individual. Maybe the background gave him the ability to read marks better or deescalate volatile situations. There were no blemishes on his record or any indication that he was the impetuous cowboy that Mark warned me about. It’d be okay. It had to be. I needed an out, and unless I wanted to beg for an OIO reassignment, this was the next best thing.
Going down the stairs, I dropped the file on the ground beside Jace. “Like I said, I flew all the way here. I’m not going home.”
“Great.” He picked up the file and stood up. “Do you have any questions, Alexis?”
“It’s Alex. And plenty.”
“Good. We’ll get to them, but first, let’s get you settled while they establish your undercover identity. You must be exhausted and hungry after the flight and the long day. You’ll be kept at a safe house until everything’s been ironed out. We don’t want to risk putting you up in a hotel or exposing you to the public, just in case you end up crossing paths with someone in Wilde’s flock. It’ll probably be a few days. That should give you time to call Jablonsky, review our progress, and tie up whatever loose ends you might have left at home. Once you go under, communication with your old life will cease.”
“I have done this before.” I stared into the distance, feeling smothered beneath the open sky and oppressive heat. “And I already took care of personal matters.”
“It sounds like there’s a story there.”
“None that concerns you.”
“We’ll see. Being undercover gets boring fast, especially after you’ve already watched everything on TV and read every book on the shelf twice. Talking might not seem so bad.”
“Is that the shrink speaking?”
“I prefer the term headshrinker. It conjures images of witch doctors and actual shrunken heads. You have to admit that’s pretty cool.”
“I’ve never been a fan.”
“Of witch doctors, shrunken heads, or psychology?” He stared at me for a moment. “I’ll try not to take it personally.”
“Great, just don’t make me your pet project.”
His blue eyes seemed to glint like the sun’s reflection on the water. “Damn, now that just sounds like a challenge.”
Seven
Agent Matt Eckhardt provided a ride to the safe house. It was a studio apartment at some out of the way roadside inn. From the musty smell, I didn’t think it had been used recently. The room was depressing, despite the bright teal and coral décor that screamed welcome to the Southwest. It was nothing like I imagined. I expected more Venice Beach and less Albuquerque, but what did I know? Clearly, not much.
“Parker,” Eckhardt said, drawing me out of my funk at the sight of the room, “I know you must have been expecting the Taj Mahal after seeing our command center, but this is only temporary. Until you receive the go-ahead, you’re to remain here.”
“You mean I can’t hit the clubs and party until dawn?”
“Not yet. I imagine there will be a time and place for that. Carlo and Eve are creating your background as we speak. Ben will determine your best chance of introduction and entry into Wilde’s world. Jace will drop by this evening with the preliminary dossier and some supplies. In the meantime, give me a list of what you need, and I’ll grab some food and anything else you require.”
“Like a box of tampons?” I teased, watching him squirm. “Relax, Agent Eckhardt, that was a joke.”
“Damn,” he laughed, “did Stella ask you to say that?”
“No, Eve whispered that in my ear on our way out.”
“That’s my team.” He looked at me for a moment. “Our team, I suppose.” He nodded. “We’re pretty close-knit. I guess I should probably apologize for Carlo and Ben. They aren’t particularly pleased about having an outsider intrude. They’ll warm up to you eventually.”
“It’s fine. I don’t like it when people step on my toes either.”
“We’ve never had to ask for outside assistance before, but the nature of the situation warranted it.” He glanced around the room, making it apparent he felt like he was speaking out of turn. “Human trafficking isn’t uncommon, particularly in the drug trade. But given that we haven’t seen Wilde use or distribute drugs, there is a chance we could be off base. If this is about selling women to be used as drug mules or sex slaves, it’d be best to let the FBI handle it.”
“Great. Glad I could be of service.” I didn’t like those prospects, particularly since no one had come out and said this until now. “Is that based solely on the bodies discovered?”
“Mostly.” Eckhardt looked around again. “Jace never saw any of those women on the property, but there have been others that have come and gone. It’s possible they left on their own volition and decided that Wilde’s brand of religion wasn’t their scene, but we haven’t been able to locate them either. When you arrived instead of Agent Lucca, we figured the OIO knew something we didn’t.” He waited expectantly for me to confess that we had a hunch or an ongoing investigation concerning this matter, but I busied myself with unzipping my bag. “Agent Parker, is there anything we should know?”
“We couldn’t find anything on Wilde or his religious order. My arrival is a fluke.” I turned back to him. “My partner transferred, and I was stuck behind a desk. It made sense to volunteer for this assignment. Had I known ahead of time, maybe things would have been different.”
“You wouldn’t have come?”
“I didn’t say that.” I was itching to phone Mark with the latest updates. “I would have made sure we had better intel and a damn good plan before I got on that plane.” I went back to unpacking. “Can you grab me a sandwich, maybe some fries, and something with caffeine and sugar. It looks like I have a long night ahead of me.”
“Sure, no problem.” He pulled the door closed behind him.
After unzipping my bags, assembling my nine millimeter, and loading it, I fished out my cell phone and dialed Jablonsky. He wouldn’t be pleased with the latest developments, but the heads up might prove useful. If anything, there might be a connected case that one of the FBI field offices or local police departments was investigating.
“Hey,” I greeted, shouldering the phone while I unpacked some of my work attire and hung it in the closet, “it looks like I’ll be here a while.” Briefly, I updated him on what I knew of the situation. “Agent Decker is supposed to stop by later with their case files and my cover identity.”
“Any idea what they expect from you?” Mark asked.
“I’ll be providing support to Decker. The rest of the team works in the office, except for Agent Eckhardt. I have a feeling he
performs official field work. He’s the badge and gun that will ride in and save the day should we need it.”
“Why the hell didn’t they tell us they thought this might involve human trafficking? Have all the victims been women?”
“I believe so, but it’s speculation. They aren’t even positive if the deaths are related to Wilde and his organization.”
“His cult.” Mark sounded displeased and anxious. “The Followers of Perpetual Light. What the hell kind of name is that? Who does he think he is? ConEd?”
“Mark,” I began, wanting to stop his annoyed tirade before it got worse, “how many times have you told me to play nice with other government agencies?”
“That was different. They didn’t want to sell you into a life of prostitution or fill your belly with drugs.” He exhaled. “They should have informed me of the possibility before they took one of my best agents. And I don’t like that they’re still keeping you in the dark.”
“Ironic, isn’t it? I guess they aren’t buying into the whole perpetual light thing either.”
“Don’t be cute. It’s not too late. I can still pull you out.”
“I’m good.”
“Are you sure?” From the question, it sounded like he had an ace up his sleeve. “What did you think of Agent Decker?”
“I don’t know. He plays games, but he seems decent. He has an impeccable record and a long history of deep cover assignments. He ought to know what he’s doing.”
I could almost hear the exasperation. “He’s a psychologist, Alex. All he does is play mind games. He’s trained to play mind games.”
I laughed. “Like you’re doing right now? Get off it, Mark. The only reason you told me that is because you’re hoping it’s enough to make me come home. It’s not like this is some sort of forced therapy session. Decker won’t be focused on me, and if he wants to use some psychobabble to talk some sense into some confused cult followers, then more power to him.”
