Agent M: Project Mabus (The Agent M Series Book 1)

by L. M. Vila

  “Come again, rookie?”

  They certainly did their homework. Meryl wasn’t fazed in the slightest. In fact, she was starting to get angry. Old habits die hard. This wasn’t the L.A.P.D. but being scolded by authority wasn’t something Meryl put up with easily. Even from her parents.

  “Let’s to cut to the chase.” Mockery filled her tone. Sanders wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear. “If you’ve been following this case for months then you knew what kind of danger we’d be in as soon as we took it. The risks were already written in stone. Now, out of the blue you decided to step in as soon as we get a whiff of what’s really going on, not for our own safety, but to save yourselves from looking bad. What took you months, we were going to have finished today. Isn’t that right?”

  Sanders felt like he was being hit with a machine gun of logic. Her reasoning and intelligence were impressive. Something Sanders definitely overlooked.

  “Glad she’s on our side,” McCrae silently cheered. Nicole was in range and offered a little smile. The CIA agent, on the other hand, was not as thoroughly amused. It seems that specific comment had irked him more than he let on. Maintaining his professional composure was going to be difficult. A worthy test nonetheless.

  “I’m not here to argue semantics. You want to know what I really think? It’s not about protecting you from them. It’s about protecting them, from you two.”

  An exigent strike. Michael remained firm but Meryl felt the tinge of resentment start to swell.

  “When I say we know everything about this case, you can take those words to the bank. For starters, Agent Lewis, your insubordination and impulsive nature has been well documented throughout the years. You thought working in a small beat like the L.A.P.D. was going to fly under the radar after you started here, didn't you? I'll admit it, you file is impressive. On paper. But I know what kind of person you are.”

  Agent Sanders leaned in closer. His lips almost grazed her ears, sending slight shivers down Meryl’s back. “Daddy’s little girl. A trust-fund baby hoping to make a name for herself. Sounds like someone who’d do anything for attention, am I right?” He pulled away. “This case is far too important to be manipulated by your impulses.”

  He moved over towards Michael. “And don’t get me started about this one. After going AWOL on his first day, I’m surprised the Commander over here can keep you on a leash. You may have astonished your coworkers with that little stunt you pulled, so much so that they overlooked the countless amount of laws that you broke just to do it. You’re a rogue operator. A renegade. A maverick in the wild west.”

  Sanders moved away from them both. His harangue was not yet finished. “You two are liabilities. If not this one,” he said pointing to Michael, “who’s already dressed for war it’s the other one,” his finger pointed at Meryl, “who’s liable to start it.”

  The CIA agent finally seemed pleased despite the growing conflict. At least he made his point clear. Sanders motioned to exit. He still had a few words left for McCrae.

  “I’ve done what I came here to do. I trust we won’t have this discussion again.” His words permeated the air as he left. Michael’s previous salty mood turned extra sour. His companion was fuming. She could barely hide it. McCrae took a sigh of what appeared to be relief. But he didn’t like what he was about to do.

  “Unfortunately, he’s right. I don’t want to risk agency conflict over a single case.”

  “But sir!”

  Surprisingly, Nicole was the first to speak up. She was already way too invested to give it up now. Especially with what's at stake now. The Commander had no idea what they were truly up against. Sadly, Nicole still couldn’t utter a word about it. That would invoke revealing her trump card.

  “It’s unfortunate Ms. Wells but it is the truth. After seeing what happened today I don’t want to put them in any more danger. It’s just not worth it.”

  Sure it was. It damn well was worth it. Only Nicole couldn’t risk the argument. Leaking this information would be far too dangerous. Allowing Agent M to continue distribution would do so much more harm than good regardless of whose hands they lie in now. This couldn’t have come at a worse time.

  “Is that all sir?”

  The silence was broken by Michael’s question. Not wanting to sit together with this abysmal feeling, McCrae dismissed them both. Seeing the two agents walk out made him feel beaten but he knew it was in their best interest. Their lives were far too important.

  With great haste, Nicole followed them outside. The Commander didn’t even try to stop her. Michael and Meryl didn’t make it too far out. There was still a great look of determination gleaming from his face. Normally that was encouraging. This, however, made her worried. She made it just in time to see their newest employee expressing her anger.

  “That jerk!”

  Meryl’s fist met the wall with resounding force. She made sure to be distant from the Commander’s office. This was her meager effort to keep him in the dark about her outburst. That endeavor left a horrid memory staining her brain. One that would not soon be forgotten. Her rant continued.

  “Can you believe that guy? Who the hell does he think he is talking to us like that? The only thing we did was our jobs. And he looks at us like we’re the bad guys!”

  More words followed. The language grew increasingly colorful with each step they took. Michael let it pass. This was typical Meryl. She always needed to blow off steam after being reprimanded.

  Beyond her temper fueled review of the CIA agent, Michael felt a great sense of pride with Meryl’s actions. While still under probationary status, she didn’t buckle under pressure. In the field or even the office. This was turning out to be a promising partnership indeed. Which somehow seemed to nag at him for reasons he could think of at the moment.

  Nicole stepped into their conversation. “Michael, where are you going?” She reached for his arm. He stopped before she could grab it.

  “Interrogation.”

  Clearly he hadn’t forgotten about that matter. If he was this passionate about the case then Nicole wasn’t willing to throw in the towel just yet.

  “I’ve got a list of companies to go through. Give me some time. I’ll narrow down potential candidates for investigation.”

  Michael acknowledged her statement then kept moving. Every minute counted. There was still more information Nicole wanted to gather. He was moving too quickly and with too much resolve to stop him. Unbeknownst to her, Meryl had stayed behind to offer additional assistance.

  “I’m not sure this will help but it might narrow down your search.”

  Nicole was intrigued. “Alright. What should I do?”

  The distance between Meryl and Michael was growing rapidly. She moved to catch up with him and threw a pair of words that may have been the key. If only they had enough time.

  “Think Russian.”

  Meryl fled to catch up to her partner, leaving Nicole left to ponder the meaning. With all of the work Nicole did on the way over, she suddenly saw her list of companies dwindle. This information may just break the case wide open.

  Japanese cars were impractical as far as Kurtis was concerned. They praised quality and affordability and kicked comfort and luxury to the side. They’ve been driving down this dull highway in the dead of night too long to count.

  “How much longer woman?”

  Seika’s initial loathe of his tone and mockery was building toward hatred. Not wanting to give in to her desires, she simply answered his request.

  “We’ll arrive just before midnight.”

  That meant another hour of driving at least. Nothing left to do but enjoy each other’s company. That was a more depressing thought than suicide at this point. All of that money paid to be a glorified driver.

  Her arm burned. A reminder of incompetence. It was nothing more than a scratch but the emotional damage was sound. A few touchups with antiseptic and a quick gauze wrap ensured a safe healing process. Physically she would be fine. E
motionally had a different track on the playlist. Vibration tickled Seika’s leg. It was her phone. She answered it promptly.

  “Hai.”

  “Seika.” It was her employer. “What is your location?”

  “On our way back.”

  “Good. Come straight upstairs to collect your payment.”

  He hung up before she could even acknowledge him. It didn’t matter anyways. As soon as Seika received her money she could leave this place behind her and return to Japan. Plenty of work waited for her and the further away she got from this country the better.

  Thinking back to when she was offered this assignment, the man paying her bills seemed much more courteous then when compared to now. Seika had to keep her guard up. It was her natural reaction to these types of situations. Assassins weren’t worth much after the job was done. A sad but true fact.

  Looking through the glass into the interrogation room was embarrassing. Sitting before them was a depressed man. The microphone picked up fragments and pieces of his cries but nothing of tangible use.

  Meryl couldn’t take it anymore. “How long has he been like that?”

  Jason was supervising this interrogation. “Since we brought him in. He just sits there, blubbering like a child. Sometimes we catch him talking quietly to himself. Others, he tries to pull himself together then fails.”

  “Oh my God,” Meryl was shocked. He was supposed to be a spy for the enemy yet he sat there like a baby. Either he was a horrible spy or a good actor. Meryl almost felt sorry for him.

  “You might want to brace yourself,” he said half-jokingly.

  Meryl turned, puzzled. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because Michael is about to step inside. And the last guy he interrogated shit himself so bad it took the cleanup crew three hours to get the stain out and another five for the smell.”

  Disgusting imagery aside, Meryl knew there wasn’t much she could do to help by watching. The art of grilling a suspect was still very foreign to her. Adopting the concept seemed like it would take time. Her talents were better suited elsewhere. Thinking about what she said to Nicole, there was something else she could do to help narrow the search. And much to Mr. Sanders’ chagrin, this had nothing to do with the case from this morning.

  “I think I’ll pass for now. I’ve got something to look up anyways.”

  “Lucky you. Have fun out there.”

  Meryl smiled. “I will,” and headed straight for the Information Department. Surely there was someone other than Steve that could help her with the research. One thing hadn’t been investigated yet. It might be the master key to unlock the door where the truth awaits.

  Fortunately, the information department was not entirely packed up yet. They did look fairly bored. Sitting in front of a computer for over fourteen hours sounds like they would be living the dream. From the looks of it, they were still in a nightmare.

  Seeking one out that didn’t look particularly busy wouldn’t be difficult. Hell, some of these guys looked like they needed a break. Meryl found a particular individual who looked like he could be of great use. As an added bonus, he appeared to be the least busy. The internet forum he was chatting on was proof of that.

  “Excuse me.”

  The poor bastard nearly wet himself as he jumped out of his seat. His bearings were all out of whack. Mumbles followed as he tried to locate the source of the disturbance.

  A formal greeting was definitely required. “I’m sorry. Hi, I’m Meryl. And you are?” She said while extending her hand.

  His was gaze locked on to this attractive woman standing before him. Her brown eyes complimented her silky auburn hair and she had a smile that could melt glaciers in seconds. As an added bonus, she was talking to him of all people.

  “Mark Wilson.” If he stammered any further he could finely chop garlic between his teeth.

  “Nice to meet you Mr. Wilson.”

  “Just Mark, is fine.” Stuttering continued. It was getting better but still distinctive.

  “Well, Mark. I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

  He nodded. Mark’s mind immediately placated all of the possible scenarios. His imagination was starting to get the better of him.

  “I was hoping to find out more information concerning the two victims on Colima Road. I have a hunch but it will take some digging. Do you think you can help me?”

  Light touched Mark’s eyes. Not only was he going to be useful to this pretty young lady but he knew exactly how to do it. She must have good eyes for talent. No one was better at information gathering than good old Mark.

  His determination strengthened. No longer was his voice plagued with skips. He spoke sternly and confidently. “That shouldn’t be a problem at all. Let me make a call real quick.”

  “You’re my hero. Thanks Mark.”

  Blood rushed to his face. He turned to face the monitor and slipped on his headset. This was truly a wonderful opportunity. Now it was time to show off his amazing abilities. Field agents may carry a gun, but nothing was more deadly than a piece of good information.

  “I swear on everything I have, you’re making a mistake!”

  Tears welled within the corners of Steve’s eyes. Michael slammed his fist onto the table. His gaze remained sharp. As if Satan himself was staring down upon this traitor. Michael leaned over and started to whisper something in Steve’s ear. He took his time relaying this message. Every word that left his lips stung worse than a thousand nuclear weapons detonating inside his skull.

  “Oh God no! Please don’t do that!”

  Fear is a great weapon. Sometimes more effective than a fist. This was a common tactic in Michael’s interrogations. A punch could stop one criminal, but the horror of something far worse could stop hundreds.

  “No more games Steve. I want the name of your employer. You’re going to give it to me. Through choice,” knuckles began cracking on Michael’s hand, “or force.”

  “Please stop!”

  Steve fell clean out of his seat. His cellular phone bounced out of his pocket and slid across the floor. Panic spread throughout his being. In more ways than one. Steve reached for it without a moment’s delay. He was stopped by a crushing force on his wrist. Screams followed. Michael applied an apt amount of pressure with his boot, falling short of breaking bones, but just enough to promote his feelings.

  The phone was within Michael’s grasp. He released Steve from the painful hold his foot had placed him under and stepped out of the room. This vital clue may have the answers Michael needed. Steve’s final plea echoed in his absence.

  “Michael! Don’t do it! It’ll ruin me!”

  In the viewing area, Jason going over all of Steve’s background information. Just in case the people in Human Resources had overlooked any recent events. Like gambling debt, illegitimate children, or even drug habits. The kind of things scumbags deal with on a daily basis.

  As the door opened, Jason turned his head. Michael was fast approaching. He tossed him Steve’s phone. It promptly landed in Jason’s prepared hands.

  “He still had his phone on him?” Jason was very surprised this detail was overlooked.

  “Check every number. Find out who he talked to in the last 24 hours.”

  “You got it. Give me a few minutes.”

  Michael nodded. Looking back through the glass painted the image of Steve’s demise. He was going down with tears streaming his face. Definitely not spy material. Unless this was part of his game. It had to be. There was no one else.

  Mark finished his humble conversation with successful results. He took the headset off and addressed Meryl. It didn’t take as long as either of them thought.

  “I’ve got every juicy detail that you could possibly want. Where should I start?”

  Great news indeed. Meryl was very pleased. “First off, I want to confirm the cause of death”

  “Right off the bat? That’s tough. The bodies were found a few hours ago. Full autopsy won’t be reported until tomorrow aftern
oon. The E.M.T.s on the scene assumed it was blunt force trauma.”

  Blunt force trauma. Meryl tried to shake the image out of her head. Michael had mentioned it before but they were unable to make a personal confirmation. Although she knew the answer, Meryl had to verify another piece of information. “What about the type of weapon used?”

  Mark peered through the data only to come up empty handed. “That's strange. I'm not finding anything. The forensic investigators said there wasn’t a trace of blood found on the victim’s bodies or anywhere else.”

  “Impossible.”

  Someone that killed these men with their bare hands should have left a horrible mess. Meryl wasn’t a doctor but her dealings with blunt force trauma victims were always colorful to say the least. “It has to be a misdiagnosis.”

  “You may be right. People just don’t drop dead. It must have been a hell of a guy to kill two people without drawing blood. A real pro.”

  Brilliant. Sheer and utter brilliance. Meryl’s eyes started to glow. This was it. Every killer leaves their mark. Whether it's a pattern of victims, weapons, or even style of murder. Meryl's talk with Michael surely paid off.

  “Do you think you can do a search of any similar types of murders within the last week or so?”

  “Definitely. Why don’t you give me something harder?” Mark said while laughing. He soon realized how easily his words could have been misconstrued and slowly turned back to his computer. His mind was not operating at the optimum setting after that.

  Scanning the database for this type of information was actually quite difficult. If you weren’t Mark Wilson that is. He knew the inner workings of this search engine. Probably because he helped design the newest version. A few key phrases against set search parameters and he was done. Sometime he amazed himself. However, the number of results on the screen was even more impressive.

  “We’ve got one result.”

  “Just one?” Meryl was a tad disappointed but it was truly better than nothing. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Two security guards in Lawson, Missouri of all places. Happened early this morning. Says here they were found flat on the bellies with huge bruises on their chest. In the shape of,” Mark paused almost stopping himself from laughing at the sheer ridiculousness. “Get this. In the shape of a fist.”