Sin (Sinclair O'Malley Book 1)

by J. M. LeDuc

  From the door, he could hear Bubba clear as day. “Don’t squirm or I might cut them big tits.” He could see Bubba pull Sin’s shirt out of her pants and start to slice the material.

  Charlie knew Troy was working with him, but he couldn’t understand why he was letting Bubba get away with what he was doing.

  As Bubba sliced through the fabric of her shirt, he turned to say something to Humberto. As he turned back, Sin lunged forward and head-butted him, cracking the bridge of his nose.

  Bubba dropped the blade, covered his bloody nose with one hand; at the same time Troy tossed Sin to the side.

  Troy turned back just in time to see Bubba pull his gun. Troy dove to cover Sin as Bubba pulled the trigger. Before he had a chance to pull it a second time, Charlie put two slugs in him.

  Bubba’s limp body dropped—dead before he hit the floor.

  Charlie ran into the cabin toward Troy who was also on the ground—bleeding. From the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow moving toward him.

  Charlie spun toward his target when one final gun shot echoed through the cabin. He heard the thud of a gun drop onto the wood floor and turned to see Humberto holding his neck, blood gushing in time with his pulse.

  Humberto’s eyes were glued not at Charlie and Troy, but at the corner of the room. “Perla Angel de la Muerte,” he gurgled.

  The last words he would ever utter.

  “Damn right.”

  Charlie and Troy turned to see Sin kneeling in the corner.

  “What the hell just happened?” Charlie said.

  “Damned if I know,” Sin said. “I managed to free my hands before Hummer and Bubba made their way down here, and Troy was nice enough to put a knife in his front pocket where I could grab hold of it before he tossed me aside. I threw the knife at him, but he was shot before it even hit him.”

  “That explains the knife sticking out of his neck,” Charlie whispered, “but where the fuck did the shot come from—and where’s Fletcher?”

  “Fletcher?” Sin exclaimed.

  “Yeah, I called him when you didn’t return as planned. The bastard was supposed to be my backup, but he wasn’t in position when I boarded the boat.”

  “I was in position mate and don’t call me a bastard.”

  “Care to explain?” Charlie asked.

  “I watched the skinny one drop off the others on shore and double back here. I didn’t want him surprising you, so I stayed submerged next to the boat when you came looking for me. I figured I better keep an eye on him.”

  “And?”

  “And I stabbed the son-of-a-bitch as he was re-boarding the boat. He’s now chum—shark bait. When I got on board, the party had already started, but lucky for me, I arrived in time for the climax.” He nodded towards Humberto’s body.

  Sin wrapped her arms around Fletcher and squeezed him tight. “It’s good to see you, Fletch. Is the unit with you?”

  “Yeah, they’re keeping watch, making sure there are no unwanted visitors.”

  “Nice story,” Troy grunted, “but do you think one of you could give me a hand?”

  They turned and saw blood beginning to pool around Troy.

  Sin used Troy’s belt as a tourniquet. “That will hold him, but he needs medical help.” She glanced at Troy and Fletcher. “I don’t want to call an ambulance and give away our position. Fletch, do you think you can drive him to the hospital?”

  Fletcher began to nod.

  “Not necessary,” Charlie said. “We have the best medical care around back at the house. We’ll transfer him to Fletcher’s boat and we’ll make a b-line home.”

  “What about York and the girls?” Sin asked.

  “They’ll be safe—for now,” Charlie said.

  “How do you know?”

  “I was able to find out quite a bit while you were on a little Central American vacation,” he smirked, “come on and I’ll show you.”

  “Wait, one thing before we leave.” Sin squatted in front of Humberto and removed her gun belt from his waist. She then dug into his pockets and found her Balisong. She stood, wrapped the belt around her hips, strapped it tight, and caressed the pearl handles. “Now, I’m ready.”

  Charlie picked up her semiautomatic from the floor where Humberto had dropped it and stuck it inside his wetsuit. “Now can we get out of here?”

  Exiting the boat, Sin stopped short.

  “What’s wrong? Charlie asked.

  “We can’t just leave this boat here—with the bodies on board.”

  The corner of Charlie’s mouth rose. Sin could see his mischievous smirk in the moon light. “No, we can’t,” he said.

  Sin didn’t even bother to ask, she just transferred to the boat Fletcher used and sat next to Troy, trying to keep him comfortable.

  “Fletcher, you mind if I take the controls?”

  He stepped aside as Charlie took the helm. He maneuvered the boat behind the larger one until the stern of his abutted the stern of the other.

  “Hold on,” he yelled over the rumbling sound of the inboard motors. He gunned the boat in reverse and pushed the other boat forward. Suddenly he threw the throttle in the opposite direction and jerked forward at full speed.

  Sin watched as the other boat drifted forward until a huge fireball lit up the sky. Even at their speed, pieces of fiberglass rained all around them.

  A knowing smile overwhelmed Sin’s expression.

  The buried IEDs.

  Fletcher emitted a guttural laugh. “I think I’m gonna like it in the Keys.”

  CHAPTER 41

  Dr. O’Rourke emerged from a back bedroom after she had finished stitching Troy’s leg back together.

  She saw Sin pacing the hall.

  “How is he?” Sin’s eyes bore the signs of exhaustion—hollow with dark circles surrounding them.

  “The bullet missed the femoral artery,” Dr. O’Rourke said. “He will be fine after some rest.”

  For the first time, something dawned on Sin. “Why are you here?”

  “With everyone looking for you, Charlie decided to bring everyone here,” Dr. O’Rourke said. “The stress of the last few days has been tough on Thomas, so Charlie asked if I would come here to watch over him.”

  “My father, is he—”

  Dr. O’Rourke put her hand on Sin’s shoulder. “He’s sleeping. It’s been hard to get him to stay calm, so I don’t want you waking him.”

  Sin wrapped her arms around herself, as if the gesture would supplement for her father’s embrace.

  She heard Troy’s voice from the bedroom.

  “Can I see him?” she asked.

  Dr. O’Rourke nodded.

  Sin opened the door and walked into the room. “You went through a lot to get me into your bedroom, Stubbs.”

  His eyes opened to slits and closed again after seeing her.

  “You look like shit,” Sin said, taking a seat on the bed.

  “I look better than you,” he mumbled, wrinkling his nose. “Smell better, too.”

  “All this sweet talk,” Sin whispered as she leaned toward him. “No wonder you were the quarterback.” She brushed her lips against his, kissing him gently.

  Charlie made his way into the room. “I hate to break up a sweet moment, but I need you both in the library in twenty minutes.”

  Troy was still a little groggy from this impromptu surgery, so Dr. O’Rourke helped him down the hall and into a recliner.

  Standing around the room was Sin’s mercenary unit.

  “Is this a house or a hotel,” Dr. O’Rourke remarked.

  “If all the staff looks like you, I’m staying an extra night,” one of the soldiers said.

  “At ease, Baxter,” Sin barked. The room became silent.

  Sin stood next to Dr. O’Rourke. “Dr. Deborah O’Rourke, let me introduc
e my unit to you. They are little rough around the edges, but they’re harmless.”

  “You’re a medic?” Baxter said. “Somebody shoot me, please.”

  Dr. O’Rourke blushed at his overtly flirtatious manner. “It seems you all have things to discuss, so I will excuse myself.”

  Sin rolled her eyes, and brought her attention back to the matter at hand. She stared at the monitors. “What do you have for us?”

  “A few things,” Charlie said. He paused and looked up from the keyboard.

  “Well?” Sin said biting her lip.

  “While you were away, I was able to break the encryption on the video tapes and computers confiscated from the studio in Heap’s church, and . . .” He again started pecking on the keyboard.

  “And . . .” Sin’s voice rose in frustration—or fear.

  “And you were right. There is some sick shit going on in there.” He rubbed his tired eyes with his fists. “I really hoped you were wrong, but you weren’t.”

  Sin motioned with her arm telling him to talk faster. “I know all that. Veloz told me all about it before I killed the son of a bitch.”

  Everyone in the room suddenly shifted their attention to Sin.

  “You killed Veloz?” Charlie blinked away his own exhaustion and rubbed his open palm across his face. “With everything that happened tonight, I forgot to ask what happened in Puerto Cabezas.”

  “I’ll gladly give you a blow by blow later,” Sin said. “For now, it’s enough to know that the mother fucker will never hurt anyone ever again.”

  “That’s good enough for us,” Fletcher stated.

  She pointed to the monitor. “What else did you find out? What was on the hard drives?”

  “There was email correspondence between someone known as—”

  “El Presidente,” Sin interjected.

  Charlie nodded. “I should have known you would milk Veloz for every bit of information.”

  “Not every,” Sin said. “He didn’t know his real identity. Could you tell who he was corresponding with?”

  “Someone he calls the Black Widow,” Charlie said.

  Sin stared at and read the emails that Charlie put on the monitor. “Fuck,” she mouthed. “No name.”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Sin dropped her head in her lap. “Any luck figuring out who Marilyn is?” Her words had the sound of a defeatist.

  “No, but my money is on them being one and the same.”

  “Why?” she said. “Why do you think they are the same?”

  “She signs her emails, M.”

  Sin stood and paced. “Back on the boat, you said the girls would be safe,” she said, “but how does any of this tell you that the girls are safe?”

  “Ah,” Charlie held up a finger and switched to another page. “Troy managed to bug Bubba’s phone. Last night, Bubba spoke to someone who told him that the merchandise—the girls—had to be delivered to the studio and that the final show was going live at one a.m. tomorrow. His contact went on to say that it was vital that the ‘gift’ arrived safely.” Charlie eyed Sin. “I assume you’re the gift?”

  Sin shook her head. “It’s Tia.”

  “What?” Troy said, sitting up a bit straighter.

  “I found Alejandra’s daughter in Puerto Cabezas. She was with Veloz. He said she was to be a gift for El Presidente.” Sin slumped down into an overstuffed chair and buried her head in her hands. “It’s my fault she’s in this predicament. I told her to trust me. All that changed when Humberto hit me with a fucking shovel and knocked me unconscious.”

  “That explains the discoloration of your face,” Charlie said. “We’ll have Dr. O’Rourke check you out. It looks like you may have a busted eye socket.”

  Sin brought her hand up to her face. The touch brought tears to her eye. “With everything that’s been happening, I wasn’t paying any attention to it,” she grimaced. “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “You’ve never looked better.”

  Sin looked in the direction of the voice—Thomas was standing in the doorway. The biggest smile plastered on his face.

  She hugged her father and told him how much she loved him. She saw Charlie give her the look from the side of the room.

  “Dad, can you give us a few more minutes and then we can talk?”

  He looked at Charlie, who nodded. “Sure,” he smiled. “I’ll go tell Carmelita and Maria you’re all safe.”

  “So,” Sin said. “We’ve gone over the plan to extract the girls from the studio, but there is something you’re not telling me. What is it?”

  “I was able to pin down the location where the emails are originating from.”

  Sin swallowed hard. It felt like she was trying to swallow a ball of cotton. “Where?”

  “935 Pennsylvania Ave.”

  Sin closed her eyes and dropped her head—not in disbelief, but more in affirmation.

  “D.C.?” Troy was stunned.

  “Not just D.C.,” Sin said, “FBI headquarters.” She could barely speak. “Is it Frank?”

  Charlie shrugged. “Not necessarily, Westcott keeps his office there as well.”

  “He’s Homeland Security, why—”

  “He was bureau before he was HS. He has always kept his private office at 935 Pennsylvania Ave.”

  Sin sucked on her lower lip. “Either way,” she said, “it can only be one of two people.”

  CHAPTER 42

  “You found the microchip in a UPS truck!” a high pitched voice screamed.

  “No shipping or return address. The driver doesn’t even know how it got on his truck. He only makes one round trip every four days, that’s why it took us a while to track.”

  “How the hell did that bitch remove her chip without you knowing it?”

  “I don’t know,” the voice on the other end of the phone line answered.

  “It was probably that doctor.”

  “What doctor?”

  “The one from the Naval hospital. My men told me she and O’Malley had been seen together eating in the hospital cafeteria. Now, she has taken an unexplained leave of absence.”

  “Are you shitting me!” screamed the deeper voice.

  “Don’t you use that tone of voice with me. You’re the one with all the connections—you’re the one with all the big plans. I can disappear right now and leave you to mop up this fucking mess.”

  A loud exhale came through the phone. “I’m sorry, all right? We need this ‘show’ to go off without a hitch tonight and then you can disappear for a while.”

  “I’ll take care of my end, you just worry about finding and killing O’Malley.”

  “I’m taking care of it as we speak.”

  “My contact tells me Heap is getting nervous—real nervous. I think his helpfulness has run its course.”

  “I’m up to my eyeballs in shit pouring down from all sides here in D.C. Tell our friend to take care of Heap tonight before the show. An extra ten grand should be enough incentive.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Good, then I will meet you as planned when this all blows over.”

  The line went dead.

  CHAPTER 43

  “I don’t care how much money they’re paying us, I spent the better part of my life saving girls from this kind of life. I will not be part of this. I’m terminating the lease!”

  “Prophet,” Chief Miller stammered, “it’s not that simple. We have no way of contacting the production company and we also don’t have any proof that there is any wrong doing going on.”

  “No proof? You heard what the authorities are saying.” Heap stood up and moved to the side of the chief. “Ezekiel,” he placed his hand on Miller’s shoulder and poured on the compassion and the southern drawl, “your own son might have been killed in the boat explosion
early this morning. Enough is enough.”

  Miller took in a deep breath and pushed his girth from the chair. “You’re right, Prophet,” he nodded, “you’re always right. We’ll get the deacons together and make a stand against the production crew when they show up.”

  “Now, that’s what I like to hear.” Heap slapped Miller on the back.

  “Would you mind praying for my son, Prophet?”

  Heap jutted out his chin like a proud daddy. “Not at all, let’s bow our heads and close our eyes.”

  As Heap began praying, Miller dropped his head. Heap was blabbing some long, self-indulgent soliloquy when the first bullet tore through his gut. The force of the .357 caliber bullet knocked him off his feet and onto the couch behind him.

  He stared—eyes wide in disbelief—as the crimson stain spread out across his white linen shirt.

  “You dumb sombitch,” Miller’s lips barely moved as he spoke. He grabbed the other chair and spun it backwards, straddling it while keeping his revolver aimed at Heap. “I could sit here and let you bleed out, but I got better things to do with my time.”

  “Why?” Heap gurgled.

  Miller stood and moved toward the door. “Why! For the same reason you run this carnival show, you call a church. Money and power—that’s why.”

  With the final word spilling from his mouth, he squeezed the trigger blowing Jeremiah Heap’s brains all over the bright, white wall of his office.

  CHAPTER 44

  “The ‘show’ is scheduled for one a.m.,” Charlie said. “While you were out of the country, I was able to hook up to the traffic cameras on U.S. 1 by the church as well as Heap’s security camera feed. There are cameras placed on the four corners of the property.

  “I was also able to set a camera on the roof of the funeral home to the south and the storage warehouse to the north so we can get a scanning view of the perimeter. From the feed, we’ll be able to get a good layout of the security and see if any last minute changes were made.”