Jessica (Tucked In 2)

by Kuhn, N

  Her voice. I knew it was her voice, but refused to listen to my mind. Recognition washes over me like the water from the shower. God damn it that was Jessica. But how the hell could it be? A finger, that’s all we got. The note never said she was dead, we never had a body, we just assumed. Without turning off the water, I jump out of the shower. Stalking naked and dripping wet, I go to the front door, water pooling on the floor beneath me.

  “Dude, can you at least warn a brother?” I hear from behind me. Turning to look at Razor, I remember I’m naked. Looking down at myself, I shrug. Not caring, I turn the knob and head out into my yard. Good thing my neighbors don’t have a view. The privacy hedge I had installed last summer prevents anyone seeing more than the beginning of my drive. Picking up the cell phone, I hit to call the last number on my screen.

  Four missed calls. She had tried to reach me after I threw my little fit. Holding the phone to my ear, I return to the house, my heart pounding. Brushing past Razor and his inquisitive looks, I slam the bedroom door behind me, locking myself away for privacy.

  “You ok? Tuck, I’m sure this is all quite the shock for you. It’s not easy for me either. You don’t know what I’m risking right now.”

  “What the hell is the meaning of this Jessica? How could you let us think you were dead? Peter killed himself. I’ve damn near gotten myself killed so many times. I’ve carried the guilt of your death like a shield. You’ve been alive this whole time. You didn’t think to call me and at least say you were okay? That you were alive?” Yelling isn’t going to help, but I can’t stop myself. Shouting is the only way to keep her from knowing how much my heart is breaking right now. All my pent up worry, fear, and guilt just spews fromme. I’m answered with silence. A small sniffle escapes her, and I instantly feel like an ass.

  “Jessica, where have you been? What’s going on?” I ask, quieter this time, trying to tamp down my temper.

  “I haven’t been ok Tuck, and Peter didn’t kill himself, I did, but there’s nothing that can be changed about that now. The Master would never let me go. I only called to warn you that Christian’s son is in danger. I wish I could say to you to stay off the case. Stay far away from it. It will only mean death for you if The Master gets his hands on you. Mine possibly as well, but there’s a child at risk and I can’t allow it.”

  “The Master? What the hell are you talking about? You’re not making sense. How did you know about Christian Thompson? No one knows about that.”

  “Tuck, please, don’t ask me questions I can’t answer. Just please, get Sebastian then stay far away from Christian. Oh no, someone’s here. I have to go. Good bye Tuck.”

  “Jessica, no, wait!” I shout into the phone, but the call has been disconnected. The Master? How would she know anything about this case? Unless, she’s part of the Coven.

  Slamming the phone on my night stand, I grab some clean shorts from my dresser, I fumble into them. Moving over to my laptop, I power it on, sliding down into my desk chair. As my still wet body sticks to the worn leather, memories of Jessica, of us, invade my thoughts. Us laying on the couch together during a rainy afternoon. The both of us walking hand in hand at the beach. The first time I hiked her up to the Hollywood sign. Her smile, her laugh, her touch, her kiss. When the screen comes up, I search Brothers Mission. My goal is to find out as much as I possibly can before Buzz gets here. Logging on, I see ads for the new Christian CIA movie that’s coming out. This man has everything. Money, power and a name everyone knows. He’s the highest paid actor there is. What would possess him to put his son’s life in danger like this?

  Without knowing how long I had been searching through files I found online, the scent of coffee pulled my eyes from the screen. Looking down, I see a mug of the steaming brew and a plate of eggs and bacon. Shifting my gaze up, I stare at Razor.

  “Dude, you’ve been in here like two hours. I figured you had to eat, plus, I’m like, always hungry.”

  “Thanks kid.”

  “So, is this what we’re up against now? Can I get a gun?”

  “Razor, you don’t need a gun, you’re an assistant, and yes. This is a cult, they think they are witches or wizards, or something dumb like that. Damn new religions pop up so quick out here, I can’t keep up. Fucking morons.”

  “So, who’s Jessica?” he asks me. Ignoring him, I continue clicking through message boards and shifting through info. With what basic hacking skills I’ve picked up along the way, I know enough to try and track IP addresses and phone numbers, but that’s it.

  Grabbing my cell, I call Chris. He’s an ex-client of mine, but he still does some favors for me. He owns a big IT company, and has access to lots of information, lots of useful information.

  “Tuck, man, how are things?” he asks. As usual, he’s up early and cheery. I’m not as much of a morning person as he is. Growling into the phone, he just laughs.

  “Chris, I hate to bother you, but if I email you some names and addresses, phone numbers, IP’s how quick can you get me full background searches?”

  “How soon and how serious?”

  “An hour ago and it involves a kid?”

  “I’ll do them myself, personally, shoot me the info and give me until noon. Ok?”

  “Thanks Chris, I think I owe you now.”

  “Tuck, you don’t owe me anything. You’re all good in my book.”

  Setting my phone back down, I grab the plate of food. As I devour each bite without chewing, Razor just stands there staring at me like I have two heads.

  “What?” I ask him, with a mouth full of food, my fork halfway back up to my mouth.

  “You want to taste your food? Or do you always inhale it like a vacuum?” he asks me with disgust.

  “I’m starving and in a hurry, but thanks Mom. If you’re going to whine about your cooking, go find a job in a restaurant. Otherwise, if you’re done, go down to the basement and grab me three extra clips for the .45, an extra clip for the Bodyguard, two pairs of binoculars and my sunglasses.

  “Anything else, Sir?” Razor asks. Noting his sarcasm, I just turn my back to him and continue my research. While Chris is looking for deeper information, contacts and what not, I can at least try to get the complete low down on Wicca.

  It’s nothing like what you see in the movies. Most churches are about Nature, celebrations and sisterhood. But, then there are those like The Coven, who think they really have powers and want to use them for hurting people, or to feel like they matter. Taking over governments and taking people’s money. The site I stumbled across is the ‘church’ the Tabloids pegged Christian as having joined. It’s called The Coven. Their leader, The Master, claims he speaks directly to some Goddess and Horned God. No, that doesn’t mean Satan worshiping, they really think their God has horns. Without top skills like Chris, there’s nothing I can do but wait.

  Chapter 6

  According to what I found on their website, The Coven has a base they built out in Malibu. I figure the hills and empty space is what drew them there, and the lax police are what allowed them to expand. It’s widely known that enough money can get them to turn their heads to most things, as long as the person doing the buying, isn’t gaining the attention of the Feds. As I prepare to head out there, my phone rings. Looking at the caller id, it’s Len the Producer.

  “Hey Len, what’s up man?” I can’t just send him to my voicemail. He’s important and sends me a lot of work.

  “Tuck, I need you. My newest Sci-Fi is behind schedule. Damn diva actors. Never has Christian Thompson not shown up to set. I haven’t heard from him in days. He’s not answering his phone. Even Holly is ignoring my questions. His agent won’t return my calls. You need to get him for me. Please?”

  How ironic can things get? I guess this gives me more cause to be on the case right?

  “Ok,” playing dumb I ask him, “Where was he last time you heard from him and how was he the last time you saw him?” These are typical questions I ask of any Tuck job.

  “We took a we
ek off waiting for some pyro to show up from China. He went to New York to see his kid. But, he has been acting funny. Shifty, nervous. He kept mumbling something about that stupid Coven business that’s all over the tabloids. Dumb ass new religion that’s getting popular because of him.”

  “Ok, well it’s a start. Let me see what I can do. What’s the deadline?”

  “We were supposed to start shooting again yesterday. Last I talked to him was three days ago, to confirm he had his new lines. Tuck, if he’s not back here in two days, I’m going to be way behind schedule, and lose some money. You know how much I hate to lose money.”

  Len is known for being a tight wad, but he always comes in under budget and on time. That’s part of why he’s the best producer there is.

  “Okay Len, let me look into it. I’ll call you when I have something.” Well my plans are going to have to alter a little, but it’s ok. I can handle this. Now I need to get Christian and his son out of this cult’s grasp. Pulling out my phone I dial Buzz. I know he’s on a plane here, so it’s off. But I leave him a voicemail anyways.

  “Buzz, I just got a tuck job from Len. He’s put me on Christian disappearing from set. So, if I’m poking my nose around no one will question it. I’m heading out to their base now, trying to recon a little. I’ll be at the airport, short term parking when you land. Come find me.”

  Loading up my newly repaired Hummer, Raz and I toss in the binoculars, a couple clips of ammo, and a few guns. You never know what you’re going to need. Slipping my sunglasses on my face, Razor and I head out into the morning sun. The whole drive out to Malibu, my thoughts keep drifting to Jessica. I can’t believe she’s been alive this whole time. I’m hurt, shocked, sad and royally pissed off. Slamming my fist into the steering wheel, forgetting where I am and what I’m doing for a moment, I see Razor spin his head to look at me.

  “You wanna tell me what’s up now man?” he asks me, genuinely concerned.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Dude, Tuck, you can talk to me, you should talk to me. You’re involving me and risking my life. Can a gun even protect us against a witch? I deserve to know what’s really happening. I know it has something to do with Wicca, I saw what you were researching. They are some crazy ass losers with their new religion and whatever. But something is really bothering you. Something big, and I’m guessing bad. So, spill it.”

  “You know magic isn’t real right? This isn’t a movie, its real life.”

  Sighing, he’s right. I give in.

  “One of the first clients when I went into business for myself was Jessica Jacobs. I was her bodyguard and she died. Or so I thought.”

  “Wasn’t that Peter Jacobs daughter? I remember that shit. Didn’t he like kill himself?” he asks me. Glaring at him, he shuts up.

  “Yes, it was. Apparently it was all a lie. She’s been alive this whole time. That’s who called me this morning.”

  “Whoa. That’s harsh man. Seriously. But, shouldn’t you be happy your client you thought was dead, is really alive? That’s like, good for business right?” Damn.

  “It wasn’t just her being my client. She was more than that. We were in love. We talked about getting married. We were planning a life together.” Staring at the road ahead of us, I can’t manage to look at my young friends face. I know it’s going to be full of pity and sympathy and I just don’t want to deal with that right now.

  “So, is that who the nightmare was about?” he asks me. Finally stamping down my emotions enough to look at him, his face is placid. Thankfully, I see not pity in his eyes.

  “Yes,” I answer. “Yes, it was. I’ve been having them since I thought I lost her. Now I find out she’s alive and I just want to choke the bitch.” While at the same time, pull her in my arms, but I can’t admit that to him. I have a reputation to protect. I can’t believe I even told him this much. I’m supposed to be the badass here.

  “Deep dude,” he says. I give him a hard look, and he immediately turns to stare back out the window, ending our conversation.

  Driving on in silence, the scenery of beautiful, sunny California passes us by. According to my GPS, the base that The Coven occupies is a few miles up the road. As we fly down the highway, we pass a handful billboards with Christian on them. His new upcoming action movie is expected to pull in twenty million it’s opening weekend alone. The man himself is worth almost three hundred million. I guess people that rich are just bored. Making movie after movie, always playing someone else, never really getting to be yourself, maybe it gets tiresome. Then you go crazy and join a cult. Laughing to myself, Raz looks over at me like I’m crazy. Poor kid must think I’m off my rocker.

  Pulling off onto a dirt road, I drive along, watching the map on my screen. I veer the Hummer off the road, parking and turning it off. Looking down to my watch, I have two hours to get some surveillance and get to the airport to pick Buzz up. Climbing out of the SUV, I walk around to the back. Razor ambles up beside me.

  “What’s the plan boss?” Unable to read his eyes through the dark glasses he put on, I can’t tell if he’s being a smart ass or if it was a term of endearment. Knowing Razor, it’s probably both.

  “We’re going to sneak up over that hill,” I explain, pointing behind him, “And do surveillance only. We need to get a layout of the base. If Christian is bringing his son here, we may have to sneak in and get him. I want to try and grab them before they get here. Especially since I now have to take Christian with us, and not just the kid. I have to know what we will be up against, and what we will need to succeed. Information is your best friend. From what I found, they have been investigated for Human Sacrifice before. The Feds have been all over them. But unable to get any charges to hold.” Bodyguards learn how to examine areas, buildings, surroundings to determine entrances, exits, and potential threats. Research, information and assessment are all important to any job one does. A bodyguard learns to stay focused and examine everything. Grabbing the Steiner 10x50 binoculars I have in the back, I hand a pair to Razor and take a pair for myself. Two sets of eyes will be better than one.

  Stalking slowly up the hill, I scope out the best place to hide out. There’s a few large rocks and some brush. Having put on a tan tee shirt and khaki cargo pants, I blend in more than Razor with his black rock band shirt and jeans.

  “Go behind those rocks, I want you to watch out for any patrols coming on the road, and going around the base. Pick something to use as a landmark. When you see one pass a marker, time how long until they come back. Can you handle that?” Nodding his head, the now black mohawk he’s sporting wobbles. Shaking my head, I walk over to the brush, getting down on my knees, then my stomach, I inch further to the edge of the hill. There’s a drop off edge, and below is about a sixty foot drop to the basin floor. About a mile away from us is the base.

  Bringing the device up to my eyes, I adjust the zoom to see well. These pairs are equipped with the shields, so that the sun won’t reflect off the glass, giving away our position. As long as no one comes our way, they will never know we’re up here. Down beneath us, the base spans across the basin floor. A large fence encloses the buildings, much like a prison. Beyond it, there’s a barn that looks large enough for about ten vehicles, what looks to be a bunk house, and what seems to be the headquarters. Between the hill and the base is a large garden. I see followers out there working, all of them dressed the same. Gray Bermuda pants, gray tunics, long gray dresses. Religion my ass, this is a cult through and through. Why would a religion need guards, wire fences and protection? Why would real witches with powers need that?

  Paying attention to everything around the base, I hope Razor is watching that patrol Jeep circling the camp. From my count, about forty ‘followers’ are out working the garden or various other chores. Closing in on the headquarters, there’s a door in the fence big enough for cars to the right of our position, a walk through door to the left of us. We will most likely have to enter through a hole we make on our own. Seeing as how this ‘group�
�� thinks they have powers, I would hope they don’t have a high tech alarm system or anything. The men with guns in Jeeps may be the only security they have. But, having to make sure I find out all I can, I scan the grounds near the fence. Sure enough, near the corners of the fence are mounted cameras. They span a viewing area, rotating. Watching them for a few minutes, my calculations show a forty five second lapse where the middle of the fence is unwatched. That would put us directly between the two doors.

  The cameras look like older models, so they don’t seem they would have a far vision reach. We should be able to sneak up quietly and get in. Rescanning the base, I watch the main building. The door facing us seems to be a heavy metal door, with a large wired window in it. As long as it’s not bulletproof glass, those are easy enough to knock out. Plus, with all the security, they may not lock the doors. As I’m watching, the door opens. A tall black haired woman steps out into the sunshine. Her pale face turned up towards the sunshine, eyes closed, my heart stops. Jessica. Dressed in tight leather like pants, stiletto heels, and a tight black shirt, she looks so different than the Jessica I knew, but still so familiar.