Mouse Trapped

by Manda Mellett

  “Mrs Williamson is married to a man I have dealt with in the past. A man who’s provided some very useful information to the FBI on occasion. Mr Williamson enabled us to bring down a child smuggling ring.”

  “How did Mr Williamson obtain this information? Was he associated with the criminals?”

  A glare from Devil would make most men crumble. Even the man from ICE looks contrite. “Mr Williamson is an expert with computers. He was able to go into the dark web to get what we needed. He was working with an ex-police officer at the time. Together they exposed several officers in the Tucson police force.”

  “There are notes of the case in the evidence pack,” the judge points out. “Carry on, Ms Beacham. I think we’ve established how Mrs Williamson was able to enlist the help of Mr Deville.”

  Devil raises his hand. “It wasn’t Mrs Williamson. By the time I got involved, she’d been deported. The plane she was on was diverted, and Mr Williamson had lost track of her.” Devil’s taken the floor, not waiting for questions. Nobody seems to object. “When I investigated I found two ICE agents at this end had been bribed to put her on the wrong transport from the Service Processing Centre. The plane pilot had also been paid a rather large sum of money. The report of a problem with the traffic control system had been fake.”

  The judge’s eyebrows rise, and he addresses the agents. “Are you aware of this?”

  I’m interested in their answer. Studying their faces, to me it looks like they’re sheepish. “We’re conducting an internal investigation.”

  The judge just stares for a moment, then turns his attention back to Carissa. “Continue, Ms Beacham.”

  “Did you discover the reason for the change in destination?”

  “I certainly did. The plane was diverted to a provincial airport. The rest of the deportees were bussed to the capital, but Ms De Souza, apologies, Mrs Williamson, was collected by her father’s men and taken to his residence.

  “Your Honour, you have to understand the man who’s Mrs Williamson’s father. She knew him as a violent man who broke her arm when she was young, and who raped her mother causing them to seek asylum in the United States. As we’ve heard, asylum wasn’t granted for her mother, with dire consequences. Perhaps it would have been, were the facts of the matter known. Mrs Williamson’s father is a man who falsely assumed the title of General De Souza. In fact, he had been dishonourably discharged from the army due to, let’s say, his overzealous practices. He was responsible for the mass murders of civilians. A violent man with no regard for anyone’s life, death or happiness other than his own. He later became known as the criminal El Procurador, supplying guns and drugs to the US, as well as slave trafficking. A man the CIA were extremely interested in.

  “On learning he had a son in the US, he sent his men to collect the boy who he wanted to groom as his heir. The abduction was foiled by Mr Williamson and his friends. During questioning, we managed to discover the whereabouts of El Procurador, and where Mrs Williamson was being held.”

  Devil throws me a quick glance of sympathy. “I coordinated a dual-purpose strike. To rescue Mrs Williamson who was being held against her will, and to capture her father. We were successful on the former, destroyed a large portion of El Procurador’s organisation, and managed to free a number of women who were being prepared to be sold. Mrs Williamson, far from being in the loving hands of her father, was being kept in inhumane circumstances, and was about to be sold as a slave herself. Her only usefulness to her father, a means to get to his son.”

  The judge sends an unreadable look my way. I sigh with relief that Devil omitted to mention the drugs I’d been forced to swallow.

  Without prompting from Carissa, Devil takes a sip of water, and resumes. “I made the decision it was too dangerous for Mrs Williamson to stay in Colombia. She was going to accompany me back to the US instead. I take full responsibility for that. Especially as she was shot, either by her father or one of his remaining men, when boarding the plane. An injury she would not have recovered from had I not had a medic on my team, and if two team members were not able to give blood to her during the flight. Mrs Williamson is extremely lucky to be alive today.”

  Carissa goes to speak; the judge raises his hand. “Mr Deville. Where is El Procurador now? Were you able to take him into custody?”

  Devil’s face grows dark. “We were not, Your Honour. The house and compound was equipped with a means of escape. In the confusion, he managed to get away. Where the man himself is now, we have no idea. We, as in the CIA and myself, believe he’s trying to regroup in Colombia. But serious damage has been done to his organisation. There is a good chance he will place the blame for that at Mrs Williamson’s door.”

  “You believe Mrs Williamson remains in danger?”

  “If she returns to Colombia? Certainly, yes. And we can’t rule out more of El Procurador’s remaining men crossing over into the US and trying to take the boy again. From what we discovered, we were able to close a number of his pipelines, but, well, where there’s a will…”

  The judge looks at the men from ICE. “Have you anything more you want to say or ask?”

  “Your Honour. While we appreciate the circumstances, and that Mr Deville made the decision, the cold fact of the matter remains that having been deported, Mrs Williamson re-entered the States again as an illegal immigrant. The law says she should be deported immediately.”

  “You’re trying to teach me the law?” the judge snaps. After his comment is left to echo for a moment, he turns to Carissa. “Ms Beacham. Do you have anything further to ask your witness?”

  After she replies no, the judge turns to the other men. “Any questions from you?”

  When the ICE representatives shake their heads, Devil returns to his seat.

  The judge looks down at his notes, then back up. “In such a complicated case, I’d normally wait to deliver a written statement, and that will certainly follow. Normally Mrs Williamson would be detained in an immigration centre while I make my deliberations. Due to the number of errors in this case, I believe I can give the gist of my judgement now.”

  He takes off his glasses, swinging them in his hand. First, he glares at the men from ICE. “You contend Mrs Williamson re-entered the country illegally. I contend mistakes and collusion with a foreign party within ICE caused her to be deported prematurely. I, myself, issued instructions for her to be brought back immediately. The circumstances being as they are, I hereby waive her illegal re-entry.” He breaks off, sips water, then continues. “Mrs Williamson has presented sufficient evidence that she has a clear case for asylum in the United States. To return her to Colombia would undoubtedly be signing her death sentence, or sending her to an unknown fate which could be worse.

  “I do not support the recommendation for deportation, and I would request that ICE examine the mistakes made in this case, including why Mrs Williamson was able to be deported prior to the hearing to which she was entitled, and how government officials could be bribed to turn a blind eye to a plane being diverted from its course.

  “Before my learned friend in ICE gets too agitated, I would like to remind him, this immigration court can hear cases of asylum. Mrs Williamson was presented to this court, or should have been, as an illegal immigrant a few weeks ago. That she was brought here was questionable due to her DACA status. Her innocence, once proven, should have been taken into account. I am well aware a claim for asylum should be made within one year of seeking such a status in the US. I am concluding that Mrs Williamson’s asylum application should have been filed when she returned from Colombia, and that now, today, we are still well within that one year limitation.

  “Mrs Williamson. You will receive my written judgement in due course, and may apply for a green card on your own merits after one year of residency.

  “The application for deportation is hereby dismissed. Until such a time as she’s able to start the process towards permanent residence, Mrs Williamson now has temporary residency in the United States.”


  While the judge has been delivering his judgement, I’ve been listening, but hardly able to take in what he’s saying. The only part that I’ve hung onto is that I’m not going to be deported. I’m going home. With Tse. To be with him and my brother. I stand as instructed, but my legs are shaking so much they can’t support me, and I put a hand on the bench in front of me. When it’s indicated that I can step away as a free woman, my head goes completely dizzy.

  Tse’s there already, his arms supporting me.

  Carissa’s passing me a glass of water, Devil’s smiling with half his face. Looking past him I see the ICE officials gathering up their paperwork. They catch my eye and both nod. They don’t seem particularly upset. It’s all in a day’s work for them. Lose some, win some, I expect, though I also suspect they’re more used to winning.

  “Thank you,” I offer lamely to Carissa and Devil. “Thank you so much.”

  They wave off my thanks, and then I’m walking out of the courtroom alongside my husband, my man. And stepping into my new life.

  Chapter 41

  Mouse

  When Mariana started to stand, I saw her wobbling. I raced across that courtroom to catch her, ignoring my own shaking legs. It was hard to process what the judge had been saying. I’d been prepared to lose everything, now I had it all. I’m still a Satan’s Devil, returning to my brothers tonight. Along with my old lady.

  It’s only when she’s at last in my arms that I realised the enormity of what I’d been prepared to do. I thought I understood, but deep down I hadn’t. I’m so fucking grateful she had a judge who had listened, the advantage being he’d entered the courtroom already annoyed she’d been deported before she’d had her day in court. In front of a different judge it could have been another story. So fucking grateful.

  We walk out into the smoggy air of Los Angeles and I breathe it in as though it’s the freshest I’ve ever taken into my lungs. Cars moving tortuously slow are lined up around us, a sight that I welcome rather than wanting to escape from.

  My arm is around her as we walk down the block to where I left the truck. She’s silent, taking her own time to let the news sink in.

  Suddenly she stops. “I feel sick.”

  There’s an alley up ahead, I take her down it, stepping back to give her privacy.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just…”

  “Shush. No need to explain, darlin’. I feel like havin’ a stiff drink myself.”

  “You don’t drink.”

  “I know,” I reply laughing. “It’s a shock. Having built ourselves up to deal with the worst, well, I think we’re both comin’ down with a bang.” She wipes her mouth with a tissue. “What?” she asks when she sees me examining her.

  “You’re not illegal any longer.” When she tilts her head to one side, I add, “Judge said you could get a green card on your own merits.”

  Already pale from vomiting, her skin turns even sallower. “You saying you only married me so I could get a green card? That you want a divorce?”

  Taking a deep breath, I correct her. “Fuck, Mariana. How the hell can you ask that? Not even thinkin’ it. But,” I pause, trying to find the right words. “But if it was a reason you married me…”

  “Tse! How could you suggest that?”

  I brush back her hair, and pull her closer. “Perhaps because I can’t believe someone as perfect as you wants me?”

  She bats at my arm. “You’re joking, aren’t you? Me? Perfect? I think you’ve got that the wrong way around.”

  Unable to help it, I smirk. “You think I’m perfect?”

  “I love you, Tse.” Then she gives me a cheeky smile. “I never know who I’m going to get. The white man, the computer nerd, the biker, or the wild untamed Indian.”

  I pull back. She sees me. Sees all sides of me, and loves them all.

  Ignoring the fact that she’s just been sick, I lower my head and kiss her, my cock having its predictable response, not caring she’s just been ill either.

  “Do you want to get a house in town, or live on the compound?” I ask her as we at last leave the traffic of LA behind. Now we can start talking about a future.

  “I don’t mind where we live. As long as I can complete my studies and then work as a nurse.”

  She’s rung Drew and told him, he’s over the moon excited. At the same time, I spoke to Drummer, told him he wasn’t losing a man. The only thing to mar our journey is that I have to stop twice more when she feels ill again. It must be all the tension of this morning.

  “You okay?” I ask her as I pull the truck around the back of the restored auto-shop at the entrance to our compound.

  “Yeah, I don’t know what’s the matter with me, Tse. I feel fine again now.”

  “It’s been a big day. Best get some food inside you. I’m sure there’ll be leftovers from dinner.”

  “Food might help,” she agrees. “I feel hungry again now.”

  As soon as I open the clubhouse door, and step back to allow her to go in first, I realise leftovers aren’t going to be on the menu. There’s a Welcome Home banner stretched over the bar, and food laid out along the top. Drew’s standing in a prime position looking excited and happy.

  Horse has obviously arrived during our absence today, and he raises his beer towards me as I give him a nod. Sophie’s standing beside him, they’ll be catching up in their own version of English, I expect. No one else will understand them.

  Drummer steps forward, welcoming me back with a man hug, and then a shorter one for Mariana. Blade, Peg, Wraith, one by one all my brothers come over. No need for words, they’re all telling me they’re glad we’ve come home in their own ways.

  “Mouse, got a minute?”

  “Yeah, VP, what’s up?”

  “Everyone else knows now, so you should too. Didn’t want to tell you this for obvious reasons, but a few days back, Sophie heard she’s got permanent residency.”

  “That’s great, Brother.”

  “Yeah. I was sort of knowing how you were feeling. Two years she’s been temporary, but nothing’s ever a shoo-in, is it? ’Specially not nowadays. So we’re pretty excited she’s permanent now. Still got a few years yet before she goes for citizenship.”

  “Brother, I never gave it a thought that you’d have any problems with Sophie being British. You were dealing with the same uncertainties as me?”

  “Didn’t want to share really. We’ve been going through the motions. But, yeah, I always had it in the back of my mind that something might go wrong. She is married to a criminal, after all.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Did Drummer know?”

  Wraith nods. “He was the only one. Didn’t seem worth talking about. Thought it would be easy. Been worried sick since we heard Mariana’s story.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault, Brother. At least it’s all worked out. For both of us.”

  “Let’s do shots!” Sam shouts from beside me, her loud voice making me flinch.

  “Mariana,” I call out, and wave to the bar. “Better get some food in you first.”

  She nods, takes a step toward the buffet, puts her hand to her mouth and is suddenly pushing past to get to the bathroom.

  “She okay?”

  “I don’t know. Think today’s been too much,” I reply thoughtfully. “She’s been ill a few times now. If this keeps up, I’ll call in Doc.” Mariana’s lived through hell these last few years, all her life really. Though her mother being deported must have made it worse. I put her illness down to a release of tension, but worry it could be too overwhelming, and she might need help. I start walking toward the bathroom.

  Sam’s hand stops me. “Mouse, I’ve got this. I’ll go see what I can do.”

  Thinking Mariana might prefer a woman with her, I thank Sam then watch as she walks across the room. Sam stops and pulls Sophie away from Horse, and has a quick word with her. Sophie nods vigorously, then after excusing herself, hurriedly exits the clubhouse. Women. I don’t bother worrying wha
t’s going on.

  Now having lost his companion, Horse comes over to me. “Glad it all worked out for you.”

  “Mouse! Horse has agreed! A skull and go faster stripes.”

  I ruffle the hair of the boy who’s appeared next to me. “Has he indeed?”

  “Yeah, he told me it’s going to look like the dog’s bollocks.”

  I raise my eyes at the Englishman, who grins, then shrugs and explains, “Sophie’s words, not mine. I just told him it would be an absolute doddle and look smashing when I’m done.” He winks at Drew.

  Drew looks at me seriously. “He means it will be easy and will look great.”

  “I’d assumed that,” I say drily. “You here long, Horse?”

  “Flying visit. Got loads of work booked in before Sturgis.”

  “That Dyna Glide yours?” I’ve seen a strange bike outside.

  “Yeah, well, buying works out cheaper than renting in the long run, especially after I do it up and give it a good paint job. Probably sell it for a profit in the end.”

  I start to ask him a few questions. Growing bored, Drew wanders away while Horse and I go to the bar, I grab a soda and Horse a beer. I keep flicking my eyes toward the bathroom wondering why Mariana hasn’t reappeared. Hope she’s okay.

  Ah. Here she comes. Fuck. She looks whiter than ever. I push my way over, take one look at her and pull out my phone. “I’m going to ring Doc.”

  “No, Mouse. I’m fine.” Her eyes flick to Sam who shrugs. “The girls just gave me a scare, that’s all. It’s just stress.” She goes to the bar and starts filling her plate. “What?” she asks me as I just stand watching her, my phone in my hand.

  “What do you mean the girls scared you?” What have they been saying? She’s mine, I’ll protect her from anything, even the other old ladies if necessary.

  Mariana tugs on my arm pulling me closer, when I lean down she whispers into my ear. “Sophie got me to do a pregnancy test.”

  My heart speeds up. Immediately imagining her belly rounded like Sam’s with my baby in there. I don’t see how it’s possible, but, “You’re pregnant?”