by Ruth Kyser
CHAPTER 7
Paolo Manaquez was not a happy man.
He was hiding out in a fleabag motel at the edge of some tiny little town about thirty miles from Herbert when he saw the newscast.
Slamming his can of beer down on the wobbly table in the room, he paced the well-worn carpet and thought about his next move. She was supposed to be in that house when the bomb went off. For that matter, she was supposed to be in that lawyer’s office when it blew up. How many lives did this chick have, anyway? When he had come back upstairs from the basement after planting the bomb he had noticed she wasn’t at her desk, but he had assumed she was in the bathroom or another office. He had been wrong. The news people had reported she was still alive so he had planted a bomb at her house, sure that would eliminate her. Then the Feds arrived and took her from the house so when the bomb had gone off, he’d missed again.
He had to get rid of her. She was the only one who knew what he looked like and could positively link him to the bombings.
Manaquez smirked. His boss would have been very pleased with him if the bomb at her house had not only taken out her, but also the FBI agents! Then the smile left his face. He hadn’t killed any of them though. He’d failed, and because she was still alive, he was in big trouble with the boss. True, he had done a good job of getting rid of the lawyers by blowing up Brown and Associates, but it wasn’t good that he’d left a witness. If the Feds caught him, she could put him behind bars for the rest of his life - or worse.
The boss didn’t like having direct ties to the organization sitting safely in jail. Manaquez knew he would never last a week in prison. His boss man had far reaching tentacles that could find him anywhere at any time. Even if he managed to survive a trial, he would never survive prison. There were too many who would gladly kill for money or favor with the boss.
What that meant for him was very simple. He had to get rid of Sarah Masters, and soon. When the boss had heard she had survived the office building bombing, he hadn’t been any too happy. Manaquez had received a text before he had even ditched and torched the van and left Herbert.
Terminar el trabajo. “Finish the job.”
He couldn’t go home to Mexico until he did what he was sent here to do, and his boss wasn’t a patient man. If Manaquez didn’t complete the task - and soon - his own life wasn’t going to be worth a peso. The organization took care of their people – as long as they did what the cartel wanted. People who didn’t do what they were paid to do would suffer countless times before the organization’s henchmen would finally kill them. Worse, the cartel would also go after his family back in Mexico. They would torture them just to get back at him for his failure.
It wasn’t going to be easy to find her now that the Federales were involved and guarding her. But they would slip up sooner or later. He had already been in touch with his contact in the States who had access to all kinds of electronic tracking equipment. His contact was tracking her cell phone. If she turned it on, they would have her location and he could finish what he had started – once and for all; because one way or another, Sarah Masters was going to die.
Sarah looked out the window of the SUV, then at Agent Morgan and the other man in the front seat. Bill Parker, the other FBI Agent she had been introduced to, was driving. He looked a little younger than Sarah, but it could have just been his fair-haired All American boy look. His almost blond buzz haircut and boyish face made him look young, but she couldn’t help noticing his physique looked like he was built like Mac truck.
It wasn’t long before the SUV pulled up in front of a building where she assumed they would be staying in the downtown area of the nearby city of Jefferson. The ‘safe house’, as the FBI agents had called it, looked to Sarah to be more of an apartment building than a house. It was a three story rose-colored brick building attached to similar buildings on both sides and was in a quiet residential area of the older part of town. The building looked like it was built in the early 1900’s, but was in great shape. The surrounding neighborhood was well lighted and quiet, with little traffic.
Agent Morgan turned in the front seat to look back at her. “Stay put until they sweep the place. They’ll tell us when we’re clear to go in.”
Agent Thorne and Agent Parker got out of the car and went toward the entrance to the building. She was pretty sure she saw them pull out their guns before they entered the doors. Well, she supposed she was going to have to get used to people who carried guns.
Looking down, Sarah realized she was clasping her hands tightly in her lap. She needed to relax. The last thing she needed to do was get the shakes again. Her nerves were so brittle; it wouldn’t take much for her to shatter into a million pieces.
In just a few moments, the two agents were back. “We’re clear to go in, Sam. Looks quiet,” Agent Parker reported through the open car window.
Sarah put her hand on the car door to open it, but found she was too late as Agent Thorne opened the car door for her and stood in front of her on one side while the other agent protected her from the other side. Agent Morgan took up his post in the lead and they quickly entered the building. The four of them walked down a short hallway, entered an elevator and went up one floor, crossed the hallway, and went through a door and into an apartment.
Sarah glanced around as they entered the main room. Surprisingly, even though the apartment smelled somewhat musty to her, it looked to be fairly modern in its design and decorations. Off white painted walls, the dark brown carpeting, drapes, and furniture were all fairly new. Maybe she had watched too many movies over the years, but she had always had the impression that safe houses were portrayed to be seedy holes in the wall. She was glad that at least this time that wasn’t the case. In her current state of mind, a dark and dungy place would not have been very appealing and would have depressed her more than she already was.
The exterior apartment door was closed and locked and everyone around her seemed to relax as they holstered their guns. Agent Thorne gently took hold of her shoulders and pointed her toward an overstuffed chair in the corner.
“Relax, Sarah. We’re here.”
She sat down in the offered chair, but sure didn’t feel like relaxing. She was exhausted, but still felt the need to sit on the edge of the chair, ready for flight. Was she really safe here? Would she be safe anywhere?
She saw Agent Morgan turn to the other two agents. “Jess, you watch from the front. Bill, you’ve got the back. If I remember right from the sketch I saw of this place, there’s only one window toward the rear. It’s through that door, in the kitchen.”
Bill grinned. “Kitchen is a good place for me.” He headed that way. “I’ll see if I can rustle up any grub.”
Agent Morgan sat down in the chair across from Sarah, his eyes searching hers. “How ya doing, Sarah?”
She took a deep breath. “I really don’t know how to answer that, Agent Morgan. But I guess I’m good. I’m still alive.” She knew the smile she gave him was a shaky one.
“Why don’t you call me Sam? The four of us are going to be spending some quality time together. The other two agents are Jessica and Bill. First names will make it easier, don’t you think?”
She nodded. His deep voice was somewhat comforting to her. Sarah knew he was trying to steady her nerves and make her feel a little less stressed, and she appreciated his efforts. It wasn’t working though. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t forget the truth. In the last twenty four hours she’d lost all her co-workers, her job, her house, her pet, and all her possessions - and somebody out there was determined to kill her. Nothing he could say was going to make any of it easier.
Bill stuck his head through the kitchen doorway. “Looks quiet out back right now, Sam. And the good news is, there’s stuff for sandwiches in the frig. You guys want to come out and fix some for yourselves?” He held up his hand holding a partially eaten sandwich. “I already started without you.” He grin
ned and headed back into the kitchen.
Agent Thorne, or Jess as Sarah had heard Sam call her, was stationed near the set of windows that faced the street. Sarah saw her glance over at Sam then turn back to peek through the slats of the closed window blinds.
“Can you fix one for me, Sam?” Jess asked. “I don’t want to leave here right now.”
Sam stood up and reached for Sarah’s hand, who stared at it unseeingly for a moment before she realized he wanted her to take it and follow him. His hand felt strong as he grabbed her smaller one and pulled her to her feet. He led her to the kitchen where they found a loaf of bread, several kinds of sliced deli meats, and condiments spread across the kitchen table. Bill had finished his sandwich and was gazing intently out the small back window.
Sarah quickly fixed a ham and turkey sandwich and ate it, even though she didn’t have much of an appetite. She sipped the accompanying bottled water and watched as Sam made himself a second sandwich.
Sam spoke quietly to Bill as he put the two slices of bread of his sandwich together. “I’ll watch things here for a bit, Bill. Why don’t you scout around the alley out back and see if you notice anything out of the ordinary. The local P.D. was supposed to send over an unmarked car with a couple of suits to help out for the night. See if you spot ‘em.” He pointed to his ear. “You got your throat mike and earbud?”
Bill nodded, and Sarah noticed for the first time that both Bill and Sam wore a contraption around their necks and had small earpieces that looked like tiny hearing aids in their ears - presumably so they could communicate with each other even when they weren’t together. She watched Bill leave and turned her attention back to Agent Morgan -- or Sam as he’d asked her to call him.
She remained quiet, not wanting to start a conversation because she wasn’t sure if Bill was talking into Sam’s ear or not. A few moments later Sam spoke, and she could tell he wasn’t talking to her. If it weren’t so terrifying being in this situation, she could have actually found it interesting.
Kind of like being in a television drama.
“Hmm, that’s not great. Empty dumpsters lying around in dark alleys are not my favorite things…” Sam’s voice drifted off as he left the kitchen and headed back into the living room, Sarah presumed so she would be out of hearing of their conversation.
She stood from the table and cleared up the remains of Sam’s and her meal. Sarah was in the process of throwing their paper plates into the plastic trash bin next to the refrigerator when Jessica came into the kitchen. Sarah was a little in awe of the female FBI agent who was tall, attractive and very self-assured. Sarah couldn’t remember when the last time had been she had felt the self-assurance Jessica Thorne exuded. Probably never. She sure didn’t feel that way today.
Jessica gave her a broad smile as she sat down at the table and reached for the knife and loaf of bread. “Sam told me it was my turn to eat. Did you already eat something, Sarah?”
She nodded. “I did, thanks. Do you want me to stay here while you eat, or would you prefer to eat alone?”
Jessica smiled again and Sarah couldn’t help but notice how white and straight her teeth were. It was a beautiful smile.
“Please, sit down and keep me company,” Jessica said.
Sarah sat down at the other end of the small table and watched as Jessica prepared her sandwich and ate. She was an attractive young woman with chocolate brown blemish free skin and long wavy, shiny black hair clipped into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Her big brown eyes held hints of gold in them and when she smiled, her whole face glowed. With her high cheek bones, she was a knockout and easily could have made her living as a model. Sarah couldn’t help but wonder how she had ended up being an FBI Agent.
“I’ve got a bag out in the car with some extra clothes and toiletries in it. I always keep one packed and ready to go when we’re involved in a PSD. Sorry - a Protective Security Detail – just in case we have a female without any personal belongings of their own handy,” Jessica said.
Sarah chuckled a little. “Well, I would certainly qualify, since the only ones I have are the clothes on my back. I really appreciate your help.”
“No problem.” Jessica glanced over at her. “I’m sorry about you losing your house and all your stuff. I don’t have much myself, just a small apartment where I rarely get to spend time. But I sure would hate to lose what few things I do have.”
Sarah watched as the other woman chewed another bite of her sandwich.
“Do you have any family, Sarah?”
Sarah shook her head. It still bothered her after all this time to explain. She was totally alone in the world, and certainly had never felt more alone that she did right then. “No – well other than an elderly aunt on my mother’s side that lives in an assisted living facility in California. She has Alzheimer’s, so I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even remember me; so I guess when it comes right down to it, I don’t have any family.”
She felt the agent’s eyes on her for a moment. Sarah wasn’t sure what to think about this female agent who looked so feminine, yet handled a gun like most women handled a curling iron.
“How about you, Jessica? Any family – maybe a boyfriend?”
Jessica chuckled, a deep throaty chuckle that sounded almost musical. “Boyfriend? No – at least not a steady one. Haven’t had time to get serious with anyone, and my job doesn’t exactly leave me a lot of time to spend with one right now anyway. As far as family goes, I have two brothers and a sister who live in Seattle, and my dad who lives in Florida. My mom passed away several years ago from breast cancer.”
“I’m sorry. I know how hard it is to lose a parent.”
It was quiet in the room while Jessica finished eating. She stood up and started to clean up the remains of her meal before Sarah shook her head.
“I’ll get that if you want to go get that bag from the car you were talking about.”
Jessica smiled at her. “Thanks, Sarah. And I’m glad we talked. I’m here if you ever want or need to talk with someone, okay?”
Sarah nodded, feeling a little embarrassed by the other woman’s kindness. How could she be so nice to her, when she didn’t even know Sarah?
After Jessica left, Sarah finished cleaning up the kitchen table and put the leftovers in the refrigerator. She glanced around the kitchen, satisfied she had cleaned it up the best she could, then headed back into the living room where she overheard Sam talking to someone on his cell, his back to her.
“I’m not happy with the set up here. With this guy’s MO, it would be far too easy for him to plant something in a dumpster in the alley or on the building’s gas main and take down this whole block.” She saw him nod. “Okay, but we’re going to need some place else to go in the morning. One night here is enough.”
He turned and Sarah saw his expression change as he realized she was within hearing distance. He quickly closed his cell phone.
“You okay?” his forehead wrinkled with concern.
“I guess.” She studied him closely for a moment. “You don’t like this place, do you Sam? Is it safe for us to be here?”
“No problems. It’s just a feeling I have. It’s too closed in around us – hard to see what’s out there.” He smiled at her and she knew he was trying to reassure her with that smile. “We should be fine tonight, but we’re going to take you someplace else tomorrow.”
Sarah watched him walk over and stand to one side of the window. He lifted the window blind a tiny bit and peered out. It appeared he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary since he let the blind fall back down, and when he glanced back at her she knew he was more than likely seeing the fear on her face. She was trying so hard to keep up a brave front, but she was afraid and there wasn’t any way she could hide it.
He gestured toward the sofa. “Why don’t you sit down and relax? It’s going to be a long evening if you plan on standing there in the middle of the room the who
le night.”
Sarah finally walked over and sat down on the sofa and watched him. She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips. What she wouldn’t give to be able to be back home in her own house. Even better would be if she woke up in her own bed only to discover this was all a bad dream. She ran her hands up and down her arms, trying to warm them. It wasn’t really cold in the apartment, but she felt chilled from the inside out.
A few moments later, Jessica came back from the car with two duffle bags and headed toward the bedroom with them. She nodded toward Sam.
“I brought in some clothes and things for Sarah, along with my bag.” She grinned at him. “Figured you gents could go out and get your own stuff.”
Sam nodded, gave her a little smile, and turned his attention back to Sarah.
“Have you come up with any more questions, Sarah?”
She looked up at him standing there in front of her so large and strong. All these FBI Agents were so self-assured and seemed to know exactly what they were doing. So, how could she tell him she had so many questions she didn’t know where to begin? What was going to happen to her? Was this guy going to find her and kill her – or maybe one of them in the process of trying to kill her? What was she going to do for a job, where would she live? She’d lost her little pet, Sparky. She’d lost all her photos of her parents and grandparents, all her mementoes of her life; things she could never replace...
She shook her head, and then nodded. Then shook it again. “I don’t even know what to ask, I guess.”
Sam sat down on the sofa next to her and an overwhelming feeling of comfort and safety swept over her. She had known this man less than twenty four hours, but for some unknown reason she felt safe with him beside her. All he had shown her so far was his kindness and patience, and she was happy he was on her side. He appeared unfazed by everything; but then, he was used to all this drama, she was sure. It was all a part of his job. She was just a simple person who had lived her entire life in a small town; a town where, until this morning, the most exciting thing to have happened in the last twenty years was when the President of the United States made an unexpected visit to a local manufacturing plant.
“Sarah, look at me.”
She turned her head and looked at him. What she saw was a very masculine looking man with a ruggedly handsome face. He looked as tired as she felt, but his clear eyes held an expression of assurance in them. He actually looked at her like he cared what happened to her.
“I meant what I said back at the police station. We are not going to let anything happen to you. Do you understand that?” She heard him sigh and hoped he wasn’t becoming impatient with her.
Then he surprised her with his next words. “I know you’re scared right now, Sarah, and I’d really like to pray for you, if that’s okay. I’m a Christian and I believe firmly in the power of prayer.”
Sarah flinched. God and she weren’t on the best terms right now. But then again, what harm would it do for Sam to pray for her? She supposed she could use all the help she could get, so finally nodded her agreement. He surprised her even more when he reached over and took both her small hands in his larger ones. His were warm and strong and quickly warmed her colder ones. She automatically bent her head and closed her eyes as his deep voice began to pray.
“Father God, we don’t know why this bad thing has happened to Sarah. But we know that even in terrible circumstances such as this, You are still in control. I ask that you place your protection on Sarah right now and give her peace and rest as she faces the night ahead and continue to keep us all safe in the cover of Your wings. We ask all this in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
Sarah quickly opened her eyes and looked up at him as he let go of her hands. Surprisingly, she felt better. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the prayer, or if it was because of the presence of the man beside her. Either way, she felt calmer and less terrified.
“Thank you, Agent Morgan. It’s been a long time since anyone has prayed for me.”
Sarah stared at the man before her in wonder. When she had first seen Special Agent Sam Morgan standing on her front porch (was it really just that morning?), she wouldn’t have believed he could be such a kind understanding man. Initially when he had introduced himself and Agent Thorne as FBI agents, she had been sure the government was out to get her – to somehow blame her for what had happened at Brown & Associates. Obviously she wasn’t a very good judge of people as he wasn’t anything like she had thought he would be. Maybe he was different because he was a Christian.
She hadn’t had much of anything to do with Christians lately. There was a time when going to church every Sunday and reading her Bible were a big part of her life. Back when she was growing up and her parents were still alive, she had blind faith that God loved her. When had that changed? She knew the answer. It changed the day both her parents were killed in a car accident with a drunk driver. It changed when she was left to make her way in the world alone.
Sam’s voice brought her back to the present. “Like I’ve told you before, we are going to do everything we can to keep you safe.”
Sarah thought about that wonderful little word ‘we’. It was just two little letters, but to her lonely life, it had a power she had forgotten. Ever since her parents had died, she had been totally on her own. She hadn’t had the luxury of anyone else to look out for her or to go to for advice. She had made her own decisions, and suffered the consequences for the wrong ones, for years. There hadn’t been anyone else on whom she could rely so she had become quite independent. Sarah was used to making her own decisions and rather relished not having to answer to anyone, but right now she was going to have to rely on these FBI agents. They were her only hope of surviving this.
Sam spoke up and interrupted her thoughts again. “Right now though, I think it’s time for you to find the bedroom and try and get some sleep. Jess is going to sleep in the second twin bed in there tonight – at least until it’s time for her shift.” He grabbed hold of her hands and pulled Sarah out the chair, then gently pushed her by the shoulders in the direction of the bedroom door.
“Go. Get some sleep.”
She numbly nodded, thanked him again and did as she was told, even though she was certain she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She discovered though, after she changed and put on the too large pajamas she found in the duffle bag, and brushed her teeth with the new toothbrush and toothpaste she also found, she was more tired than she thought.
The amazing realization that Agent Morgan, a man she didn’t even know, had taken the time to pray for her safety, was the last thing she remembered before sleep finally overtook her; that, and the thought that maybe God really did care what happened to Sarah Masters after all.
