“I know that. Micah knows it too.” Frost nodded.
He rubbed a hand over the tattoo of Caleb’s name on his inner forearm and swallowed. He tossed back the scotch, welcoming the burn, and carefully set his glass down.
“I don’t even know if Caleb is alive.” He stared blindly at the light glinting off the edge of the glass.
“You need to remember that Vladimir took him for a reason.” Frost refilled his glass.
“And hasn’t responded to the exchange!” he growled, reaching for and squeezing the glass.
“Caleb may have escaped,” Frost said.
“Then why hasn’t he come back?”
“I don’t know, but don’t lose hope.”
Alex closed his eyes and swallowed another gulp of whiskey. “Losing Caleb destroyed Micah. He’s lost and I can’t help him.” He gritted the words out hoarsely, and sounded just as lost.
“You’re not alone, man. I’m here.” Frost stepped forward and clamped a hand on his shoulder.
Micah
He slumped to the bed.
What the fuck was he doing? Losing his fucking mind, that’s what! How the hell could he have accused Alex of giving up? The man was driving himself to exhaustion trying to locate Caleb.
He roughly ran both hands down his face and made a harsh sound, and then shoved his fingers through his hair, wrenching it back.
The way Alex’s voice had wobbled when he’d choked out the words, “We were family,” fucking annihilated him.
They had been a family! He more than anyone knew how hard Alex had taken Caleb’s disappearance.
He blinked upward rapidly until the sting in his eyes abated. Jumping to his feet, he glanced at the clock. Seven o’clock, chances were people would have gone home by now. Most of them probably either at dinner or with loved ones.
Jerking on a jacket, he headed out of the room. Stopping at the lower level’s situation room, he swiped his badge and shoved the door open before walking into the empty room. He took a breath and approached the table. He pushed the maps aside until he found the one he sought and pulled it out.
The complete map of Alaska sat before him and he searched over the area Reggie had identified around Juneau. He tapped the map over the area and snapped a quick picture of the location on his phone before carefully placing everything back as it was. He headed down the hallway to the second door and swiped his key card against the tactical weapons and locker room lock. Looking both ways, he slipped inside. The room was empty. He yanked open his locker. It took him a few tense minutes to get shit together and slip out the back door of the building.
Jogging to a Phoenix SUV, he jumped in and left the lot before he pulled over. Knowing the security footage would pick him up, he pulled up the email on his phone and tapped out two separate emails and hit send. Punching the button on the steering wheel, he made a phone call on his way to the airport.
Within an hour, he’d caught a flight out to Alaska. Reggie was right, something about the faded area around Juneau, Alaska, set off alarm bells in his gut. He’d go and search the area and if nothing, then he’d search city by fucking city if he had to. If it turned out to be a dead end, then he’d keep searching until his last breath.
Stepping out of the Juneau International Airport, he located the black suburban and the keys on the right front tire. He sat with his hands tucked into his armpits and his chin tucked down into the collar of his jacket until warm air swelled through the cab.
After a few moments, he reached beneath the seat and pulled out a disposable phone. He turned off his own cell phone and tucked it into his duffle bag and then turned on the disposable.
He called the only number listed.
“Thanks,” he said when the phone was answered.
I told you I’d be here for you,” his friend replied.
“I know, I just don’t want to cause trouble for you,” Micah said.
“It’s no trouble. Listen, you were right, from what I’ve heard of the chatter, Vladimir is there in Alaska.”
“I’m checking Juneau.”
“That’s a good place to start. I’ll send you a phone number of a contact I have out there.”
“Thank you.”
“Watch your back,” his friend said gruffly.
“I will.”
Alex
Returning from Frost and Seth’s place, he’d taken over one of the rooms in the Phoenix headquarters. Micah’s door had been shut and Alex didn’t have the energy to take on another argument, so he’d walked on by and into the room he’d been using.
The next morning, he folded his clothing into his duffle bag. He double checked his weapon before shoving it into the waistband of his tactical pants.
Micah was hurting and he felt helpless in his inability to fix it. Backing away, at least for a while, seemed like the right decision. He couldn’t keep banging his head against a brick wall, because that was what it had become.
He certainly didn’t want to cause Micah any further pain. The man was feeling vulnerable enough.
Now he needed to find Micah and tell him he was leaving. It was the right thing to do.
Sliding on his leather jacket, he grabbed his duffle bag and spun when the partially closed door eased open.
Frost stood in the entrance and Alex sighed.
“Leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t.”
“This was a mistake. Micah doesn’t want me here.”
“Shut the hell up,” Frost growled. “Get off your pity pot. Is that what you did last time? Leave?”
“No! He left me,” Alex snapped, spun back and dropped his duffle, and then rounded on his friend, tired of the accusations. First Micah and now one of his oldest friends?
“So what, tit for fucking tat?”
“No,” he growled. “I stifle him.”
“I get that.”
He scowled.
“I can see it, Alex.” Frost shook his head. “But leaving isn’t going to solve a fucking thing.”
“I’m only leaving for a while,” he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his head. There was no way he could stay away from Micah for long.
“Don’t leave at all. Stick around. Micah took a few days off. You should too, take a mental break.”
His heart lurched. “What do you mean he took a few days off?”
“Yeah, he sent an email to Roscoe and Stefano from what I know. I guess he took your advice. Anyway, I came to get you for the meeting.”
Alex hurriedly moved to the dresser and powered up his charging phone.
He opened his email and found the separate email to him from Micah. Relief rushed over him until he saw the words and then ice crusted his veins.
I’m too distracted by you. You’re right, I need to take some time away. I’m so sorry for what I said to you. I didn’t mean a word of it. I know more than anyone the lengths you’ve gone through to find Caleb. All I can say is that my reasoning is all fucked up right now. Micah
He believed the heartfelt words, but he did not believe for one minute that Micah was taking some time away. That part was utter bullshit. Micah wouldn’t have changed his mind like that and certainly wasn’t taking time off to relax. Alex knew the man better than that. He called Micah’s phone number, but it went straight to voicemail. He fired off a response to the email and then shoved his phone into his pocket.
Alex hurried down the hall with Frost. Coming to the doorway of the situation room, he glanced over the room until he spotted Rossi, Stefano, and Roscoe standing near the front.
He approached and they all turned to look at him.
“What is it?” Roscoe asked with a slight frown.
“What did Lash say in his email?”
“That he was taking a few days off to recharge,” Roscoe said and then pulled out his cell phone before showing the email to Alex.
“I want to read you something,” Alex said, his voice rising over the low conversation going on in the room. All of th
e unit quieted.
“This was sent to me from Lash. He says, ‘I’m too distracted by you. You’re right, I need to take some time away.’”
More than a few faces looked surprised.
“He’s lying.” Alex looked out over the crowd, holding several pairs of eyes. “He says I’m too distracting? What am I distracting him from?”
Everyone stared at him.
“The mission,” Seth said slowly and then jerked to grab his laptop.
Alex nodded. “That’s right. Because trust me,” He looked around the again. “This is a guy who doesn’t quit. This is the guy who would never take time off while his little brother is out there. He’s not on fucking vacation.”
“He’s going after Vladimir.” Storm scowled.
“He checked out weapons,” Seth replied, looking up stunned from the computer.
“He went alone,” Alex said, urgently walking to where the map was still up on the big screen. He grabbed the laser pointer. “And he’s going after Vladimir somewhere in Alaska.” The laser stopped and hovered over the faded area of Juneau.
“There’s roughly thirty two thousand residences in Juneau and the area is pretty spread out,” Seth mumbled, eyes on his laptop.
“That’s not too many people for a city,” Frost pointed out.
“But it’s a lot of territory to cover,” Alex returned.
Alex looked at Rossi and Stefano and then at the team.
It was Roscoe who spoke. “Take care of anything personal quickly and then gather your gear. We meet back here in one hour to depart.”
“Fear?”
“Sir?” He spun, holding Rossi’s gaze.
“I’d sure like you with the unit.” The man held his gaze for a long time.
“Yes.”
“Yes?” Rossi raised a brow.
“I’ll join Phoenix officially, sir.”
He hoped his impulse to say yes to Rossi’s request wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.
He’d always held back, not wanting to crowd Micah. All he could do was hold onto the numerous times Micah himself had encouraged him to join.
Rossi smiled. “Welcome to the team, soldier.”
“It’s about damned time,” Frost said and slapped him on the back.
The rest of the team murmured their agreement.
Why now, he couldn’t have answered, but for some reason it just felt right.
Somewhere in Anchorage, Alaska—population 289,000
Micah
The contact sent him to another city and gave him another phone number to call.
He made his way to Anchorage, got a room, and called the new number. At that point, he was told to meet the following week. The following week came and he was put off for two more fucking weeks.
He took to roaming the streets looking for any trace of Caleb or Vladimir and Mez. The time wasted grated on his nerves, but it also gave him extra time to plan.
He rented a room in a grungy motel that smelled like mold and piss, but he wasn’t going to take a chance of being found. Standing in the small bathroom, a light hung bare from a cord, the walls were chipped paint, and the floor bare linoleum.
He studied his reflection in the mirror before he lifted the scissor with his hand and chopped at his hair, watching as the long strands floated to the floor.
Reaching for the electric razor he’d picked up at a shopping center, he carefully and methodically ran it over his head with the shortest setting. When he was finished, he studied himself in the mirror. He’d become almost unrecognizable.
He refused to think of the times Alex had run his fingers through the long strands or fisted them, winding them around his large hand when they made love.
Micah gripped the sink hard and then turned away from his reflection.
Rubbing the towel over his head and shoulders, he pulled on a black beanie over his newly shorn head and picked up the hair from the floor to stuff into a plastic bag and push that into the garbage.
He pulled on sleek-fitting black clothing and shook out the weather proof trench coat his informant had left in the vehicle and draped that over a chair. He walked to the desk to pick up his watch and burner phone and the complimentary calendar caught his eye.
Grabbing the edge of the chipped wood desk, he hunched over like an old man trying to catch his breath in huge gasping gulps. He bit his tongue until he tasted blood.
Caleb turned nineteen today.
The text came in with an address to meet at midnight. He splashed cold water on his face and buried his face in the towel for a long moment, having no idea of how much time had passed. He tossed the towel and shoved a clip into his Glock and an extra one into his pocket. Tucking the gun into the back of his pants, he covered it with his long jacket. Crouching, he slipped his knife in his boot and another in the inside fold of his coat. Tucking in a second gun in the inside pocket of the trench coat, he straightened the collar.
Stepping outside, he walked toward the address. He was early and slipped inside a small hole-in-the-wall bar and ordered a coffee.
Nostalgia made him do it, but he risked turning on his personal phone for one brief second. It flooded with so many messages and missed calls, he shut it down the very next moment and cursed his stupidity.
He gulped quickly at the hot brew, hoping to gain a bit of warmth to thaw his frozen insides. Leaving some bills on the bar, he stepped outside to casually walk along the sidewalk and down the block.
The contact turned out to be someone far different than he’d pictured. A girl about twenty something was waiting for him outside of the run down building and called out when he approached.
“Are you Ned?”
“I am,” he said cautiously, slipping his hand behind his back and closing it around the gun tucked inside, he glanced around.
She gave him a quick smile and then turned and opened the door to the inside of the building. She walked up a set of steep stairs and into a small room at the top.
“Have a seat,” she said, tossing her coat on the chair.
Micah stepped inside and the girl slipped around him to lock and secure the door. She plugged in a small heater before moving into the tiny kitchen to put a tea kettle on the stove. Taking two cups down, she glanced over her shoulder. “Coffee or tea?”
“Coffee, thanks,” he said and removed his coat. He moved the small, wooden kitchen chair and placed his back to the wall before taking a seat. He could see both the door and the window from this vantage point. His gun he placed on the table. With nothing but a quick glance at it, the girl soon had their hot drinks ready.
“You have information?”
“Yes, my pimp, he deals with a man with a Russian accent.” She set the coffee down in front of him before taking a seat.
The girl stirred her own cup of tea.
“Manny, that’s my pimp, gives a Russian man a cut of the money we make. I overheard Manny talking about the Moss Street address to the Russian. I don’t have a house number.” Her mouth turned down.
“That’s okay. That gives me a place to start,” he said gently.
She smiled.
“What’s your name?” He took a grateful swallow of coffee.
“Heather.”
“Thanks, Heather, the coffee’s good. How did you come to be here?” he asked softly.
Heather told him that she’d arrived in Alaska from Missouri with no money or family. Her hope had been to meet and marry a man. She’d heard that there were way more men than women. She’d been approached and offered money for sex.
“I refused…” she hesitated, not meeting his gaze she studied her tea before taking a sip. “At first, but it was such good money and I was hungry.” She shrugged and pulled the fluffy sweater she still wore around her.
Micah nodded. “I get it. Anything else you can tell me?”
“No, sorry.” She gave him a sad smile.
“That’s okay. I better get going.”
“You sure you’re not interested?”
She glanced at the small twin bed.
“I’m sure. You don’t have the right equipment for me,” he said and she smiled at him. “You can keep the money and rest. I’ll go out a way that won’t be seen. Here.” He tossed down enough money and then some to keep her busy for the night. Her eyes welled with tears.
“Thank you.”
“If you ever want to leave this way of life, call this number,” he said and wrote down a number on a paper on the small table before picking up his coat. She gave him a half smile and then shook her head.
“Just think about it,” he pressed.
“I will,” she promised, but it sounded like an empty one.
He left by way of the upper floor window and fire escape. Pulling his hood down and covering his face, he dropped down into the alley below. He shook out the black trench coat and slipped it on just as the rain started falling. It gave the night an eerie glow in the lamp lights near the end of the alley.
He had a street name. Moss Street was a long ass street according to the internet map on his phone. Making his way to the small rental car, he started the engine and turned the heat to full blast.
He sat with the car idling and waited until the girls lining the street were approached by a man who appeared in charge.
He had a much better idea of finding Vladimir than combing up and down Moss Street.
Somewhere in Anchorage, Alaska
Alex
After weeks of searching and coming up empty handed in Juneau, he’d been on the verge of killing something for fucking fun when Micah had turned on his cell phone for one brief second.
Alex wasn’t quite sure how Reggie had accomplished it, but the techie had pinged the GPS location instantly.
Which led them here to Anchorage.
By the time they landed, the establishments in the area where Micah’s cell phone had pinged were closed for the night.
The next day, they hit the streets hard.
“Let’s split up, we can canvas more of the area that way,” Roscoe ordered.
Dressed in street clothing, they fanned out. He, Frost, Roscoe and Seth hit a few bars and restaurants with no luck. The others moved along each side of the street, going in and out of businesses.
Destruction (Out for Justice Book 4) Page 15
