Deep Deception 2

by McKinney, Tina Brooks

  “You have a nice day too,” I answered. I’d practically shit my pants and needed to go to the bathroom and check for skid marks.

  Jackasses. I started fussing with myself as I inched my way to the screeners. Unless you have this secret desire to spend the rest of your life sitting in a six-by-nine cell, I suggest you get your shit together. People were giving me funny looks. I wanted to yell at them so bad it hurt. Why were people so nosey anyhow? What was going on with me ain’t have nothing to do with them. I felt myself mentally detach from my body. I allowed the calm me to march ahead of the angry me, so Ms. Angry wouldn’t get me into any more trouble.

  I saw the line for screening, but Ms. Angry was about to walk right past it as if she were exempt from it. Another officer stopped her, and I was forced to join her before she started acting a fool.

  “What now? Am I supposed to get butt-assed naked now?” I looked around, seeking the support from angry passengers who’d had enough of their antics.

  The officer said, “No, that won’t be necessary but you do need to remove your shoes, sweater, any electronic devices, any change you may have in your pockets, and a belt if you’re wearing one. Place those items in one of these bins. You will be told when to walk through the scanner.”

  “What, are we in grade school again? What the fuck do you think I could possibly put in my shoes?” I tried to shut my other half down, but Ms. Angry was pissed off. In my head I knew what I was supposed to do but getting my body to do it was the difficult part.

  “You’d be surprised.” The officer acted like he was used to these types of outbursts and moved on, repeating a similar spiel to others in line.

  What is he going to do if I refuse? This has to be a violation of my rights. I’m not doing it. We were holding up the line and people behind us started walking around us, shooting us nasty looks as they passed.

  “This bitch is nuttier than all outdoors,” a passenger said to another.

  “Yeah, I just hope she isn’t on my flight. I’m not up for any foolishness when we get up in the air.”

  “I know that’s right,” chimed a third passenger.

  I looked around to see who they were talking about and all eyes were on me. I could only assume I was the nut they were referring to, so I made a conscious effort to ignore the voice raging in my head.

  Getting with the program, I took off everything I thought would be a problem: toe ring, watch, bracelet, and earrings. Once I was finished with those items, I reached behind me and undid my bra. I slid the straps down my arms and reached under my shirt and pulled it off. I didn’t want the little metal hooks triggering an alarm, which would draw even more attention to me. Satisfied that I had taken off everything that needed to be scanned, I stuffed my bra inside my shoes and put them on the conveyor belt. As I waited on the other side for all of my things, I couldn’t help but overhear a rude comment.

  “Good thing that scanner doesn’t detect crazy,” someone said.

  If I weren’t so busy trying to collect all my things from the conveyor belt, I might have gone off. It probably was a good thing I didn’t, because even though I was trying to be low key, I was still drawing attention. I looked over my shoulder and noticed the same officer who had handled my bags was behind me.

  “Did I do something else wrong?” It was a struggle not to yell at him and ask that he leave me the fuck alone.

  “No, why’d you ask?” He had to be kidding. If he got any closer to me, I could have gotten his imprint off my ass.

  “Oh, since you were still hanging around I thought—”

  “I get paid to hang around.” He chuckled, but I didn’t find anything funny. His presence was making me nervous.

  “Could you possibly hang somewhere else?” I muttered under my breath. This motherfucker had jokes. Before he could respond I grabbed the last of my things and followed the crowd to the terminals.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  MOSES RAMSEY

  It was a long day, one I was going to put in the history books and lay it down. I took a long shower. That helped me to relax. By the time I came into the bedroom, I was already yawning and preparing a mental checklist for the things I still needed to do.

  Verónica was seated at her vanity table brushing her hair. She was nude from the waist up. Her beauty nearly took my breath away. Her eyes met mine in the mirror and suddenly I was no longer tired. She boldly perused my body as I stiffened under her scrutiny.

  I said, “Damn, baby, you look good enough to eat.”

  She smiled and I thought she was thinking the same things that I was until she slammed her brush down with enough force to snap it in half. “So you’re still going after her regardless of how I feel about it?”

  “Talk about ruining the mood.” I slung my damp towel on the chaise chair and got in bed.

  “Moses, this isn’t funny.”

  “Do I look like I’m laughing to you?” She might have had a right to be a little upset, but I was mad too. If she thought I was about to spend the rest of my night arguing, she had another think coming. I was not going to be sucked into a fight with her, because we’d end up tossing and turning all night. My parents were finally gone and I’d been looking forward to spending some time with Verónica.

  “Are you going to ignore my question?”

  “You already know the answer, so why are you wasting time and energy talking about it?”

  “So that’s it? Because you say so, I’m supposed to automatically agree?” She stood up with her hands on her hips. If she weren’t so angry, she would’ve looked cute.

  “You’ve made it clear that you don’t agree, but on this we are going to have to agree to disagree.” I patted my pillow for comfort.

  “And what am I supposed to do if Tilo kills you too? How am I going to raise LM by myself? Did you even think about that while you’re running around trying to be Dick Tracy?”

  My heart lurched. I hadn’t thought about how Verónica would raise my son to be a man if I weren’t around. If she hadn’t pissed me off with the Dick Tracy remark, I might have been more diplomatic with my response. I got up from the bed to retrieve some pajamas. “I am the same man you married, Verónica. Dick Tracy is what I do.”

  She hurt my feelings, and I wanted to get away from her before I said something that I couldn’t take back. That was one of the reasons why I hated arguing. In the heat of the moment, the mouth said things without engaging the brain and, in some cases, the heart. Verónica was crying again. I grabbed a couple of pillows from the bed. I was going to the living room to sleep on the couch. I could have used the guest bedroom, but I promised to never go to bed mad. If I slept on the couch, it would be like I was taking a nap.

  I stopped in the doorway. “You think you can close your eyes and Tilo will go away? I don’t think so. Right before your father had his attack, he told us he had spoken to her a few days ago. It’s only a matter of time before Tilo brings her shit to our house, and I’m determined to keep it out of our home.” I shut the door firmly behind me.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  TILO ADAMS

  I got recruited straight out of high school to be an agent for the FBI because of my high academic scores and my propensity toward gangs and violence. I didn’t chose the bureau; it was chosen for me, and they didn’t give me much choice about accepting their generous offer. It was outright blackmail to be honest. I wasn’t in the position to fight back. It was either join the FBI or go to jail.

  I was young and naive so when they told me my options, I started the six-month training class. At the start I was still the angry and rebellious child, but the bureau has a way to make sure you conform to the rules. They stuck my ass down in the kitchen washing dishes for the entire compound. It took about two days and the anger dissipated. I was ready to cooperate. I remembered it like it was yesterday.

  “April, are you sure you want to do this? It could be dangerous,” my mother asked when I told her of my decision to start training in Quantico, Vi
rginia. My mother knew nothing of my options, and I had no intention of enlightening her. I didn’t have the balls to tell her what I’d been up to and why I didn’t have a choice. It would have broken her heart. She thought the sun rose and set on my black ass, and this was another way the Feds kept me in line.

  “It’s going to be okay, Ma,” I said, trying to sound like I really meant it. At that point I was so deep into the game, it was time for me to leave the streets or die. I was selling drugs, accepting bribes, and had even participated in a few murders. The bureau had a notebook full of the shit I’d done. They assured me that they would tell it all if I didn’t cooperate with them.

  I was nineteen years old and going to college was not an option I wanted to exercise. The bureau offered me an alternative, albeit a dangerous one, but it wasn’t much different from my life on the streets.

  Twenty weeks of intense training, which included more than 850 hours of classroom instruction. I hadn’t signed up for that, but I was too far into it to give up without a fight. Not surprisingly, I excelled at everything criminal. I didn’t have to be taught to think like a gangbanger because I was one. The hardest part of my training was learning the thin line between honesty and dishonesty. My mother attended my graduation and it was the last time I saw her.

  “Sweetheart, I am so proud of you.” Her cries were heard throughout the entire ceremony.

  I was expecting her to yell out at any minute that I was her baby. I could hear the other students snickering, but if they had anything else to say, they kept it to themselves. My tolerance for bullshit was small and the bureau taught me some pretty effective methods to discourage ridicule.

  “It was easy, Ma. I’m a natural, at least that is what my trainers say.” I took off the robe and small cap and handed it to my mother for safekeeping.

  “What happens now? What will they have you doing?” She followed close behind me as I walked to my car.

  This was my first day of freedom and I couldn’t wait to get away and relax. “I can’t talk about it.” I could see the hurt on her face, but that’s one of the things from training that I’d absolutely adhere to. In this business loose lips did sink ships.

  “Honey, you’re scaring me. How come I can’t contact you?”

  “Mom.” I stopped walking and led her over to a bench to sit down. I loved my mom and I couldn’t stand to see her hurting. “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared too. If I can’t handle it, I’ll be the first to bow out. You know me. I’m going to run at the first sign of trouble. I ain’t about to get caught up in some shit I can’t handle.” I smiled at her as I wiped away the tracks of her tears.

  Mom said, “Watch your mouth. You may be grown, but I can still whip the black off your narrow ass. Humph, beat you like you stole something.”

  We laughed. I was going to miss this woman sitting beside me. She meant the world to me and it would be rough letting her go, but it was necessary for her sake and mine. I was given a new name and a new life that she would never know of. I never saw myself as a hero. Dying was never in my equation; it was a factor of the job chosen for me. I kissed her cheek and went to join my fellow graduates. From that moment on, they were my family.

  The one good thing I got out of the training was that my body was fine, fit, and fabulous. I had washboard abs, a tight ass, and firm biceps. My thighs were so tight, I could choke a motherfucker with them without using my hands. I was a bad bitch!

  I was stationed at Century Parkway in Atlanta, learning the ropes. I wasn’t in a big hurry to get out in the field because, despite my training, dodging bullets wasn’t my thing. I wanted a big come up that would take me away from the bureau before things got too dangerous for me.

  I was the youngest agent on staff, and I was concerned about my ability to go in the street and actually interact with Joe Blow public.

  “Agent Adams!”

  I was startled when I heard my name called during formation. Since day one, I tried my best to remain low key and under the radar.

  “Yes, sir,” I responded as we were taught during training. My heart was beating about a mile a minute because I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t even know if he was actually talking to me because I had yet to make friends with any of the other trainees. Since I was the only one to stand up, I assumed he was talking to me and it made my heart beat faster.

  “Follow me.”

  “Uh-oh, shit’s about to get ugly,” I muttered as I followed the officer. I didn’t have a problem with following orders, but I wasn’t prepared to do anything extra. Damn my oath, I just wasn’t the one.

  We walked through the entire complex before he entered a vacant office and took a seat. I was so nervous I was shaking, but was pissed that we had to walk to the end of the complex before he sat down to chat. The complex was big and there was no way he could have made me believe there weren’t any vacant offices between where we had formation and where we were now.

  “Sir, did I do anything wrong?” I knew for a fact that I hadn’t but he was just staring at me and I wanted to break the ice.

  “No, Adams, relax. We just found a job we believe only you will be able to handle.”

  My first impulse was to ask him who the hell “we” was. I could not imagine why I would have been chosen over all the seasoned veterans who met in the meeting room each morning. Clearly there had to be some sort of mistake. All I wanted to do was collect a motherfucking check and be done with this FBI bullshit. “And what job is that, sir?” I would play their game as long as I could. The moment that shit got dangerous, though, I was out. I did what they told me to do. I completed the training. I was very serious about that shit. Some of the agents took themselves way too seriously. I wasn’t one of them. I had nothing to prove to any of them.

  “The Cali Cartel, I want to bring them down and I need you to do it.”

  “Huh?” I started laughing nervously because he couldn’t possibly be serious. Even I knew the Cali Cartel ran governments, not the other way around. This had to be some kind of joke or initiation. I looked around, hoping to spot the spy camera they were using to catch me on tape.

  “I said I want you to bring down the Cali Cartel.”

  This negro obviously had me confused with someone else. “What? Me? Are you serious?”

  No response.

  “What the hell can I do?” My voice rose to a high-pitched whine. If this was a joke, they caught me bitching out on tape. My heart continued to beat at a rapid pace. I felt like the bureau was trying to suck me into a situation I would not be able to walk away from. In fact, it sounded like a death sentence to me. The senior agent ignored me and my outburst.

  “You won’t be dealing with the cartel per se, but you will have direct contact with a young girl whose family is involved with them. She’s about your age. We need for you to become her friend, find out everything you can about her and her family, and bring that information back to us.”

  I was not believing this shit. There was no way I was ready for undercover work—especially with the notorious Cali Cartel. They had agents entrenched in all facets of law enforcement, so it would be difficult to know who to trust while undercover. “Sir, no disrespect intended, but I’m hardly qualified to handle this type of operation.”

  “Agent Adams, you’re playing yourself short. I wouldn’t have chosen you if I didn’t think you were qualified.”

  I was torn between arguing with his pompous ass and requesting a new assignment. “Why me?” I whined again.

  “’Cause you’re near the youngest daughter’s age. I think the two of you will get along. It’s your job to get along with her.”

  “But—”

  “There are no buts,” he sternly commanded. His cold demeanor frightened me.

  “Yes, sir,” I whispered.

  “Here.” He slung something on the table and I picked it up. It was a driver’s license.

  “Who is Tilo Adams?” Fear ran through my heart.

  “You are. Get a safe
deposit box and put everything with your old identity in it. Lock it up, Adams. There is no room for mistakes.” His warning was clear: fuck up and I die.

  “Sir, did I die?”

  “No, April Adams is not dead, but you are no longer April Adams. Put her identify away and don’t use it. Ever. You have a job interview this afternoon. Study your background and get this job. Your target is Victória Mendoza. Become her friend. I promise you the rest will work itself out.”

  “How do I do that?” I was scared for real. I felt like I was being set up for a job I wasn’t equipped to do.

  “Make friends with her and see if you can find out anything that will help us out in our investigation.” He pushed a small folder over to me.

  I did not want to pick it up, but it seemed as if I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t have a good feeling about the case or the legality of changing my identity. “What do I do once I have the information?” I had resigned to face my destiny.

  “That’s the easy part. Hustle your ass back here. This one is on a need-to-know basis. The cartel is powerful, and I’m reasonably sure they have some operatives in our department, so you are not to discuss this case with anyone other than me. Am I clear on this?”

  He was crystal clear and I was tempted to walk out the door and take my chances on the street.

  “Don’t even think about it, Adams. Fuck this up and I promise I will find a way to make your life miserable.”

  I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was not messing around with me. This was serious and that frightened me even more.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  TILO ADAMS

  “Hey, Victória, what’s up? Want to hang out after work? Let’s have a couple of drinks.” I was in the office getting my assignments for the day. I spent most of my time over at the courthouse researching titles, but when I did get to come to the office, I tried getting to know the extremely reserved Victória Mendoza.