Duty Bound (1995)

by Leonard B Scott

  "Maybe you squids couldn't do it, but me and Virg could make the recon, man."

  Ted scooted back and gave the Cuban his best glare.

  "Who's runnin' this op?"

  Ramon stared back for a moment before finally lowering his eyes. "You are."

  "Yeah. Now tell me what ya think the best approach is."

  Crawling back up to the edge of the embankment, Ramon pointed and whispered. "The crew is usin' the cabin's porch as their smokin' and jokin' area. They're eating and sleeping in the Winnebago. The best approach is from the east-too much thick vegetation to the west; they'd hear us."

  Ted raised his binoculars, scanning the cabin and terrain to the east. "Yeah, I see what ya mean . . . the east is the best." He lowered his glasses and motioned to the gravel road. "What about the two sentries they posted down by the highway?"

  "No sweat, man. I checked 'em out a couple of hours ago.

  They're bitchin' about the heat and tellin' each other lies about how many women they've laid. They're not expecting any trouble."

  Satisfied at what he saw, Ted backed up and handed Ramon the binoculars. "Okay, I'll have Virg come out and relieve you as soon as I get back. The rest of us will come out about midnight for the recon. Give me a call on the cell phone if anything changes."

  Ramon nodded toward the bag Ted had brought. "Thanks for the drinks and sandwiches, man."

  Ted winked as he crawled back farther. "Gotta take care of my team. See ya in an hour or so."

  .

  9:00 P. M., Atlanta.

  Stacy Starr opened the door and smiled. "Are you always so punctual?"

  Standing on the porch wearing his blazer, new shirt, and tie, and holding a bottle of wine and a small bouquet of flowers, Eli gave her an embarrassed smile. "It's been a while since I've been on a date. I wanted to get it right."

  Stacy backed up and swung the door open. "Come in, Eli. I guess I should tell you it's been a long time for me, too. Don't mind the mess. I just got home a few minutes ago. Donny was true to his word and kept me informed of events; it's been a madhouse trying to keep up. Come on, let's go back to the kitchen."

  Eli slowed his steps as he looked around. "It's beautiful, Miss Starr," he said, and meant it. Like the outside, the interior of the small plantation-style house was picture-perfect.

  He had thumbed through Southern Living magazines while at the hospital, and he thought Stacy's place would have qualified for the cover of the next issue. The exterior of the house was all wood and painted white, with a covered veranda surrounding it. He could just see her in a bonnet, sitting in the porch swing sipping a mint julep. The inside was even better. High ceilings, lots of windows, wood floors, and Stacy Starr's classy touch everywhere. The furniture was all antique. Because fresh-cut flowers were everywhere, the foyer and front sitting room had the look and smell of a lush outdoors. He liked it, he liked it a lot, although somehow he wasn't surprised.

  Stacy saw his look and came to a halt. "You like the house?"

  "It's like you, Miss Starr, very warm and charming." Ahh hell, did I just say that? Damn, Tanner, it's duty, remember?

  Stacy took the wine bottle from his hand with a smile and spoke with an exaggerated drawl. "My my, aren't you the one with compliments, Agent Tanner. It does make a girl's head swim. I do declare, if I didn't know better, I'd believe you were trying to woo me."

  Eli couldn't help himself. He bowed and presented the flowers. "Miss Starr, a gentleman does not woo on his first date with a lovely lady such as yourself. He merely states the facts as he sees them."

  She fanned herself with her hand. "My my, a gentleman indeed. My mama always warned me to beware of proper gentlemen. She said they'd steal your heart."

  "Stealing is a felony, Miss Starr. I'm a federal officer and would never steal."

  "In that case, I will assume I'm safe for the moment.

  Come on back to the kitchen and let's see what Cecila has prepared for the occasion. I told her I wanted a special meal for a special guest."

  Eli followed, telling himself to stop having such a good time.

  "Eli, I would like to present Miss Cecila Thomas. She is almost my second mama."

  A smiling, very, very heavy black woman wearing a flowered dress and white apron stepped forward. "Ahh now, missy . . . oh my, isn't he a handsome thing? You was right, missy, he somethin' special all right. Give me those flowers; they need to be put in water. Y'all go on out to the back veranda, now. Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes."

  Eli smiled at the short, rotund woman. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Miss Cecila."

  The woman winked at Stacy. "He's a gentleman, too, missy. You'd better watch yourself."

  Stacy led Eli out the back door onto the veranda, where she walked to the railing and took a deep breath. "You smell that, Eli? That's the end of summer coming. . . . I do like the fall, but I always enjoy summer best."

  Eli joined her and looked out over the small manicured lawn surrounded by pines and festooned with plants. "Summer is my favorite time, too, Miss Starr. I always liked nights like this as a boy. My brother and I would chase fireflies while my mama churned that ol' ice-cream maker. . . .

  That was the best ice cream I've ever had."

  Stacy regarded him a moment. "It's hard to imagine you as a boy, Eli. Were you a handful?"

  "Not really, I was just a kid like everybody else. In those days baseball was my passion, and mama always knew where to find my brother and me--in Parker's lot shagging flies and grounders. Things were different in those days, simpler for kids, I guess. I think there was only one television station back then."

  "What about your father? What did he do?"

  "Dad worked for the railroad. He worked long and hard but he was always there for us. He passed away when I was fourteen. It was an accident . . . robbed us all of him. He was a good man."

  Stacy touched his arm. "He would have been proud of you, Eli."

  The meal was wonderful, but Eli had a hard time enjoying it because he was waiting for Stacy to start asking questions about the investigation. It was just a matter of time, he kept telling himself. Damn, I feel like a cat locked in a room with twenty old guys in rocking chairs.

  After dessert, Stacy suggested they once again sit on the back porch to enjoy the evening. When Eli sat on the porch swing and she took a seat beside him, the warning bells in his head began clanging. Stacy had not once mentioned her work nor asked him any questions about his. Although he kept telling himself she was a shark, it was getting more and more difficult to think of her as one. He told himself the duty was done, he could leave, but he really didn't want to go. She was everything he had imagined in his dreams, and more. He liked listening to her talk, the homey little expressions she used, and especially her eyes. They told him everything, and that was what worried him most. They were telling him she liked his company as much as he was enjoying hers. But there was an even bigger problem. She was also sending other signals, not intentional but there nevertheless. The light touches, her closeness, and that damn intoxicating scent of hers were driving him crazy. It was heat emanating from her, pure sexual, sensual, steaming heat, and it was melting all his mental defenses. His dream was winning and he knew it.

  Stacy patted his hand. "I lost you there for a moment.

  What were you thinking about?"

  Eli sighed and lowered his head. "I was thinking how nice this is. I was also thinking I should go."

  "You're scared, aren't you?"

  "Uh . . . well, I hate to admit it, but yes. I'm scared to death because I like it too much. That doesn't make sense, does it?"

  She patted his hand again. "I understand because I was thinking the same thing. I think we're alike, Eli. I think it's been a long time and we're scared of what could be. My work is everything to me, but right now, sitting here like this it makes me wonder. Maybe it isn't so important after all."

  Eli took her hand in his. "I have this thing; it's something inside me that tells me things.
I can't explain it, Stacy; it's just there. And it tells me when something is right and when it's wrong. It's telling me now I ought to go but it also says don't go away for long. It says to me it's good, what's happening, and I should do it again."

  She squeezed his hand as she looked into his eyes. "Then I think we both should listen to this inner voice of yours.

  Now let me tell you what my inner voice says. It's telling me, Stacy, so far so good, but you don't know one of the things about this man that's important to you. Does he play tennis? I know that sounds strange but I happen to be addicted to the sport. It's so bad I couldn't possibly consider a relationship with a man unless he played. I'm sorry, Eli, I know it's terrible of me but I have gotten so set in my ways. . . . Do you play?"

  Eli rose and bowed his head. "Miss Starr, it has truly been a delightful evening. And to answer your question, get us a court sometime after your elbow heals and I'll show off for you. I'm pretty darn good for an old guy."

  She smiled coyly. "I know, I checked you out, remember?

  I was just setting you up and it worked. Give me your cell phone number and I'll call you about playing as soon as I'm healed."

  Eli rolled his eyes as he reached for his billfold. "And here I was just thinking how sweet you are and you go and get slick on me. Fine, Miss Starr, for that I'll whip you badly on the court to teach you a lesson. Here's my card.

  Call me when you're ready for a lesson in humility."

  She accepted the card and rose. "The one thing you will have to learn about me, Agent Tanner, is that I work very hard for what I want. And right now I want to beat your butt on the court. I'm delighted you enjoyed the dinner. You may kiss me good night now, and the deal I made with Donny is complete."

  "What if I don't want to kiss you?"

  "Then I'll call Donny and tell him you didn't show up."

  Eli nodded. "Well, I guess I'd better do it, then, huh?"

  "I guess you'd better."

  Eli stepped closer and gently took hold of her shoulders.

  He had every intention of making it a short good-night kiss, but as soon as his lips touched hers, he forgot everything. It felt so damn right he couldn't stop. It was like he knew how she would feel when she pressed herself against him. It was supposed to happen; his body told him so. He was trembling and couldn't stop and didn't want to. Every fiber in his being seemed to tingle and want more of her. Deeper and deeper he kissed her, feeling as if there were no end to his desire to consume all of her. Two seconds passed, then five; he didn't care, he couldn't let her go. Finally, he began shaking so badly he had to release her. Embarrassed and feeling guilty, he stepped back. "I . . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

  "Shush," she said as she pressed herself against him again. "I'm not letting you go just yet."

  She kissed him. And Eli thought, Tanner, my man, dreams really can come true.

  Dahlonega, Georgia Dressed in black fatigues, their faces smeared with dark camouflage face paint, the four men sat in a ravine two hundred yards from the cabin. Ted whispered, "I've seen enough; how about you guys?"

  Virgil nodded as he reached up and turned off the night vision goggles perched on top of his head. "It'll be a piece of cake with these babies."

  Ramon bobbed his head. "Looks good, man, but remember to plan on Murph. If somethin' can go wrong, it will."

  Glenn looked back toward the cabin. "They're all heavily armed . . . that worries me. Maybe we should hit them at about one or two in the morning when most of them are sleeping. It would give us the darkness to escape in."

  Ted took off his night-vision goggles. "Two in the morning sounds good to me. Everybody agree?"

  The other three nodded. "Two it is, then. Okay, Virg, you stay and keep your eye on the place. The rest of us will head back to the motel and get some rest. Glenn will relieve you in three hours. Keep your cell phone by you and call me if something comes up I need to know about. All right, let's get going. Tomorrow is going to be a big day."

  Ramon whispered, "I'll hang out here with Virg, man. It's a nice evening. I'll rack out right here."

  "Suit yourself, just don't get to bullshitting and get too loud."

  Ramon hissed. "We're sophisticated Army dudes, Ted.

  We don't fuck up ops. We make 'em happen, right, Virg?"

  "There it is, Ray."

  Ted grinned in the darkness and patted Glenn's arm. "It's gettin' deep; let's get outta here. See ya, guys."

  Once they had traveled a hundred yards, Ted turned to Glenn and whispered, "Ya know something? I really like those guys."

  "Me, too."

  Marriott Hotel, Atlanta Eli took out his card key as he walked down the hallway toward his room. Reaching his door, he saw a note taped to the lock.

  Tanner, knock on my door as soon as you return. Important!

  Sutton Eli walked down to the next door and was about to knock when he saw it was already open a couple of inches. He knocked as he entered. "Sutton, are you all right?"

  He walked past the bathroom and saw her seated on the bed with papers lying scattered over the blanket beside her.

  She looked at her watch, then up to him. "It's almost one, Tanner. You kind of went beyond the call of duty, didn't you?"

  His face reddening, Eli shrugged. "Uh . . . I stopped off and had a few beers in the lounge before coming up."

  Ashley stared at him a long moment, got up, walked past him into the bathroom, and immediately came out holding a box of tissues. "Oh really, a couple of beers, huh? Was it the waitress who left the lipstick all over your face for tipping her or was it Miss Shark showing you her teeth?" She slammed the box into his stomach. "You should have gotten rid of the evidence, Agent."

  She stomped back to the bed and resumed her previous position.

  Eli quickly wiped his face and began to speak, but she shook her head. "Now the right side of your neck. You check for fang marks before you left her?"

  "Look, Sutton, you're not my mama or my keeper, so don't sit there giving me that look."

  "Hey, Tanner, I don't care what you do. As I recall, you said those exact words to me not long ago. Well, I'm saying them back to you. You're a big boy . . . but a dumb one if you think she's not after something, but that's not my concern. I just didn't want you standing there with lipstick all over your face and neck while I told you I found something.

  I think I know who the DEA's suspect is. Unlike you, I worked tonight. This is the file Paul wanted you to look at.

  When we talked today about laundering, I thought of it and went back to his office and got it."

  Eli stepped closer to the bed. "What did you find?"

  "I don't know; you'll have to tell me. You remember Paul told you the Miami office had a confidential informant that came forward? Well, I read the statements he made to our people. . . . The informant was on the mark. It gets interesting when he says a buddy of his and two unnamed colleagues engaged in a moonlight job two weeks ago. They had heard of a big-money haul that their chief competitor was making so they tried to make a score. Trouble was, they made the raid but there wasn't any money. The C. I.'s buddy beat up the driver to convince him to tell them where the money was. The driver said they had it all wrong. They had already delivered the dirty money to a bank in Georgia and were coming back empty. The buddy then got very angry and beat up the driver a little more. The driver swore all he did was drive the truck to Georgia and drop off trunks. He said he and eight others dropped off four trunks to a bank in Dahlonega."

  Eli's eyes widened. "Trunks?"

  "That's what he said, trunks. I figure a trunk holds at least a million in cash. Wait, it gets better." Ashley picked up another piece of paper. "I think this next part tells us who the DEA's suspect is. The C. I. stated his buddy said the driver of the truck worked for a big player by the name of Carlos Mendez."

  Eli slowly raised his eyes to her. "You sure the guy said Carlos Mendez?"

  "Yes, it's right here in black and white, Carlos Mendez.

 
Do you know him?"

  Eli lowered his head. A full ten seconds passed before he nodded. "Yeah, I know him. When I was with the Miami office, I was the AIC of an investigation on him--it got my partner killed and three others wounded, including me.

  Yeah, I know him."

  "You've never mentioned it before," Ashley said.

  Eli spoke as if very tired. "I screwed it up, Sutton. I didn't mention it because I don't like to think about it."

  Her eyes locked on him, Ashley scooted closer, holding out the informant's statement. "Tanner, this could be it. This is the connection we've been looking for. If Mendez was laundering, he has to be the one who ordered the hits to cover up his involvement with the Yona Group. He's our man."