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Flesh Into Fire

Page 4

by JA Huss


  “How’d you know we were here? Were you fucking trailing me?” I ask him.

  “I was. I read that Pete’s wake was happening and assumed you’d be there.”

  I am so, so mad.

  “OK. Good for you,” says Tyler. “So whattayou want? If you’re so goddamned worried about blowing your cover, then why are you here now?”

  “Because it’s important.” Ricky takes a breath, then says, “So I work out of the San Diego field office. I’ve been inside the Castillo organization, working my way up, for the last eighteen months.”

  He looks at me like I should care. Fuck him. He threatened to kill me. A threat I took seriously. I made decisions based on that fucking threat. Like stripping in the morning at Pete’s.

  Ricky continues, “And it’s been tough. Like real tough. We’re getting shit.”

  “Why?” asks Tyler.

  “Because Castillo’s crazy but he’s careful. You know why he won’t fly? It’s not because he has some innate fear of flying, it’s because he thinks the US government will shoot him down.”

  “What? Why?” I ask. “Would you guys really do something like that?”

  There’s a pause before Ricky says, “Probably not. But it’s what he thinks.”

  Jesus. This whole thing is insane.

  “Point is, he doesn’t trust anyone.”

  “What about his nephew? Unlucky Logan?” Tyler asks. I look at him to explain himself. He shrugs and adds, “My nickname for him. How I keep people straight. This guy was just T-Shirt until a second ago. Now he’s Ricky DEA.”

  “Logan’s his own thing,” says Ricky.

  “Fuck do you mean, ‘his own thing’?” I snap at him. “You know he burned down the club and killed Pete, don’t you? On his uncle’s orders.”

  Ricky hangs his head and says, “Yeah. Yeah, I know what he did.”

  “So then fucking arrest him!” I shout, standing up. Tyler puts a hand on my arm to hold me back. But I’m about two seconds from being able to be held back by anyone.

  “We can’t. I can’t. If Castillo goes down on a murder charge, which is a state charge, then we blow up our whole investigation. Not to mention the fact that he’s not a US citizen. Trying to extradite him would take months, or longer, and in the meantime, he’d move pieces around so that we’d have to start our work with him all over again. It’s… We can’t. I’m sorry.”

  I pull myself free of Tyler’s grip and get right in Ricky’s face. “Fuck. You.”

  “OK, OK,” Tyler says pulling me back. I jerk free again and throw myself back onto the couch. Tyler goes on, “Look, what are you doing here today? What do you want?”

  Ricky looks around then spies a chair across from the couch. “May I sit?”

  “Whatever,” I say, panning my hand to the chair.

  Ricky places himself in the chair and looks at me. “Maddie, I’ve been working this thing for a year and a half. And in that time, I’ve known Carlos to be singularly focused on running his business and keeping his competition in place. He eats, drinks, and sleeps work. Talks about nothing else.”

  “So. What does that have to do with—?” I start.

  “Until you,” he interrupts.

  If Ricky Ramirez-Martinez-Whatever-His-Last-Name-Is wanted my attention, he has it now. “What are you talking about?”

  “Yeah,” says Tyler. “Fuck are you talking about?”

  “He’s… obsessed. With Maddie. He talks about her all the time. Maddie, he doesn’t care about the money you owe him. He wants you.”

  “Well, yeah,” I say. “I kinda figured that out when he tried to abduct me.”

  “No, that’s my point. He doesn’t try. He doesn’t negotiate with anyone. Nobody leaves unless he wants them to. That he let you walk away…? Like, I’m saying he’s in love with you, Maddie.”

  Holy. Fucking. Hell. This cannot be happening. And suddenly, I have a very bad feeling that I know where this is all headed.

  “So… What do you want from me?” I ask, suspiciously.

  “I’d like to ask you to help the United States government build its case against the Carlos Castillo drug cartel. By telling Carlos that you couldn’t get together the money you owe him, and that you’re willing to make good on your promise to… be with him.”

  There’s a faint ringing in my ears, like something loud just happened next to me and it’s going to take a while to get my hearing back. The next thing I can make out clearly is Tyler’s voice saying…

  “Um, I’m sorry. You think you’re gonna get my girlfriend involved in your little government scheme to bring down a Mexican drug lord?”

  That’s exactly what Ricky thinks. Clearly. And—wait. Did Tyler just call me his girlfriend?

  “It’s neither little, nor is it a scheme,” says Ricky. “It’s a massive government operation that has already cost us millions of dollars and thousands of man hours. And what’s missing for us to make our case is how Carlos is transporting his drugs.”

  “Whattayou mean, how?” Tyler asks.

  “He’s not flying anything, he doesn’t use tunnels like his competitors, or at least none that we’ve been able to ID, and—”

  “And what? Maddie is a fucking expert in drug trafficking methods all of the sudden?”

  “No. But Maddie might be the one person we’ve found who’s in a position to get the critical intel we need.” Then Ricky takes a breath and says, “Look, I know it sounds ridiculous, but sometimes to catch the bad guys, we have to paint outside the lines. It’s not ideal, I get it, but she’ll be providing a service to her country and I’ll be there the whole time in case things go sideways.”

  “OK,” Tyler says, walking over to Ricky and staring down at him like he’s gonna… I dunno, choke him until he dies, maybe. “First of all, this card,” he says, holding up the business card, “is bullshit. I need a badge and then I need a supervisor, and then I’m gonna need a meeting with the supervisor, and then… maybe, if all that shit checks out, we can talk about how I, not her, but I, might help you. But until that happens, fuck you.”

  “Well,” Ricky says, “I appreciate that, but unfortunately that can’t happen. The deal is that I’ve got a lot of latitude to run this operation, so this is my call. Buck stops with me.”

  “OK. Then get the fuck out.” Tyler is serious. Like, I haven’t seen him in soldier mode or anything, but I’ve gotten glimpses of that particular side of him. And this is that side. This, right here, is who he’s become since he left home all those years ago. Dead-fuckin’-serious I-will-kill-you Tyler Morgan.

  “Wait,” I say, throwing the pillow aside and standing up. “You’re trying to take down Carlos?”

  “We very much are,” Ricky says, still calm.

  “And Logan?” I ask.

  “I mean, certainly he’ll also go down if we can get Carlos.”

  I chew on my lip, thinking about this.

  “No,” Tyler says, coming to stand in front of me. Blocking my view of Ricky with his body. “No, Maddie. Not happening. We already agreed to just pay these nut-suckers the money you owe them and have that be the end of it.”

  “It won’t be the end of it,” says Ricky. “I assure you. Sorry. But that’s the truth.”

  I step to Tyler and put my hands on his chest. “They killed Pete, Tyler. And Jeff. And who knows how many other people.”

  Tyler looks into my eyes, then says, “Fuck this,” and starts pacing. “Fuck this. Fuck this.”

  “We need you, Maddie,” Ricky says. “And if you—”

  “Fuck this!” Tyler yells.

  “—can get him to trust you—”

  “Get the fuck out!”

  “—and get him to think you’re on his side… We can get him, Maddie. We can get him, and Logan, and all of them. All you gotta do is—”

  Tyler jumps at Ricky, grabs him by his sweater and pulls him up out of the chair. Ricky doesn’t resist. Just looks like he’s bracing himself for another punch. Tyler screams at him, “Th
e fuck are you talking about? No! The fucking answer is no!”

  And then, out of nowhere, the Devil pops up on my shoulder. Smiling. Dancing a little jig. Yes, he hisses in my ear. Yes. This is perfect.

  And he’s right. It is, isn’t it?

  “Payback,” I say, redirecting my gaze from Ricky to Tyler.

  Tyler, still holding Ricky’s sweater, looks at me. “What?” he asks.

  “This is how we get our payback for Pete. And for Jeff. And for all the other people Carlos Castillo has fucked with and killed over the years.”

  “No, no, no,” says Tyler. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying…” My eyes shift back to Ricky. “My answer is yes.”

  Chapter Five - Tyler

  My grip on Ricky DEA’s sweater remains tight, but it’s less a threat and more so that I don’t fall immediately to my knees when I let go. What the fuck is going on?

  “Maddie…” I say. But she just keeps talking to Ricky.

  “What do we do? How do we start? When do I go? Do I go with you now?”

  Ricky taps me on the fist that’s still holding his sweater, and I finally let him loose, trading places with him in the seat I just yanked him up from.

  He says, “The Christmas deadline you guys have in place is coming up, and he’s going to expect something. This is probably our best shot if we don’t want him to get too suspicious. If he thinks you’re going to him because you can’t get the money together, we can likely sell it. We’ll need a few days to brief you and get you ready for what you’ll be doing. I’d like longer, but we don’t have it, so we’ll just have to do the best we can.”

  Fuck this. I can’t keep it in. “The best we fucking can?” I shout. “That does not sound like what you want for someone when you’re sending them into battle! ‘Petty Officer Morgan, we know you haven’t completed your diver training or ordnance disposal courses, but we’re gonna just toss you out there in the field anyway, with IEDs and chemical weapons and so forth, and just have you do the best you can.’ You can hear how that sounds stupid, right?”

  “Ty—” Maddie starts, but she can wait for a second. She had her shot to be worked up. It’s my turn.

  I stand up, rip off my tie—because it’s fucking choking me to death—and throw it on the ground. (Fuck it. I’ll buy Evan a new one.) I pop the collar on the shirt, and get right in Ricky’s face. We’re about the same height, so we’re basically nose to nose. “I don’t know what the fuck they teach you assholes at the DEA, but this is not how shit is done. Read me? You were in the military?”

  “I was.”

  “Yeah? Which branch?”

  “Army.”

  “Oh, well, of fucking course you were. And what was your job? Besides getting punched by Rangers? Were you a fuckin’ Ranger?”

  “For a while,” he says.

  “Fuck does that mean?”

  “It means that I left the Rangers.”

  “Why? To do what?”

  “I was recruited by First SFOD-D. That’s what I did before I got out.”

  First SFOD-D? Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta? Seriously?

  “You were a fuckin’ Delta Force operator?” I ask him.

  “I was.”

  “You were a fucking Delta Force operator, and went through everything that becoming that entails, and yet somehow you think it’s a fucking banner idea to send an untrained woman into what is basically a combat operation?”

  “What does me being a woman have to do with it?” Maddie asks sharply.

  Oh, fuck. “It… That’s not… Nothing.”

  “No,” she says. “You made a point of saying ‘woman,’ like that has particular meaning. You somehow think because I’m a woman, I won’t be able to handle it?”

  Jesus Christ! “No,” I say, taking a breath. “It’s not because you’re a woman. You just happen to be a woman. You are, in fact, a woman,” I continue pointing out. “But the more relevant fact to this conversation is that you’re not trained.”

  She eyes me. I don’t know if she buys it, but I don’t give a shit. I mean it.

  “Hey, look,” I continue. “I trained with two female techs in EOD school and I’d take either of them any day over half the jagoffs I graduated with. They were the fucking tits at the job.” Oh, fuck me. “Not the tits. I didn’t mean… I mean they were, but not… It’s just an expression! Fuck it! My point is, you’d be amazing at anything you do, but everybody who does anything needs training! All I’m saying!”

  “It’s intel,” says Ricky DEA, casually, from out of nowhere.

  “What?” I ask, annoyed.

  “It’s not a combat operation. It’s intel-gathering. Look, I will make sure that if it starts to look even a little hot, we get her the fuck out of there.”

  “And how will you do that?” I ask him. “Nobody knows you’re here, right? You’re in deep cover. How the hell will you get her out?”

  “Tyler… It’s Tyler, right?” I nod. “Tyler, at the end of the day, I do still work for a major US government agency. We have tools at our disposal. And she’s not going in completely cold. My Vegas counterpart and I will give her a crash course.”

  “Crash course. Fucking super.” I can’t believe this.

  “Besides,” he says, “I’ve seen her handle herself with Castillo. I don’t think it’s her you should be worried about.” And then he smiles one of those charming, good-guy smiles that I normally just want to punch off someone’s face. But somehow, on this dude, I don’t mind it. I dunno why. Maybe because he was Delta. Whatever.

  “Tyler…” Maddie steps to me. “I need to do this. OK? I need to.”

  She takes my hand in hers and intertwines our fingers. Looking into her eyes, I can see the need she’s talking about. I can see it. Her expression projects the truth that what she needs is so much greater than just avenging Pete, or getting even with Carlos, or anything as small and petty as that. It’s about the need she has to stand strong. To lift herself up and move forward again. Finally. After all this time.

  Well, she’s sure picked one hell of a coming-out party for herself.

  “I get it,” I whisper, “I just… Dude, can you fucking go so we can talk about this shit? Please?” I say to my new pal, Ricky.

  He nods. “Do you have a piece of paper?” he asks.

  Maddie gets him one, and he grabs a pen from his other cargo pocket. He writes something down and hands it to her.

  “This is the number to ring if you do decide you want to help us out. The woman who will answer is called Emily.”

  “Is that her real name?” asks Maddie.

  “It’s the only one I’ve ever called her.”

  “That’s not an answer,” I point out.

  He nods. “I know.” And as he grabs the door handle, he says, “I’m sorry this is happening for you, Maddie. I really am.” He pulls the door open and pauses in the doorway. “But I suppose we’re also lucky it is you and not somebody else. Give a call when you’re ready to get going.”

  And then… he’s gone.

  Chapter Six - Tyler & Maddie

  TYLER

  The second the door swings shut behind Ricky DEA, she grabs her cell phone and starts dialing the number he left. And now I’m chasing her around the house like a maniac, trying to get the phone out of her hand. I feel like we’re in a fucking Laurel and Hardy movie.

  “Maddie, Maddie, Maddie, stop. Just stop and let me… Fuckin’ stop!”

  I finally secure the phone away from her and she spins on her heels and stares at me. “Give me. My. Phone,” she says.

  I hold it so that she can’t reach it.

  “GIVE. ME. MY. PHONE.”

  I suddenly wish Caroline and Diane were here. I would never, in a million years, harm a hair on Maddie’s head, so it would be nice if there were someone else around to pull her off when she goes HAM on me in a second.

  “Maddie, Maddie, please, just give me a second. I just wanna talk about this with you. Please.�


  She grabs my dick, which was starting to flag, but is roused back into action by her touch, squeezes, and says, “Give me my phone, or I will rip your nuts off.”

  “OK, OK,” I say.

  And I throw the phone across the room.

  She shouts, “What is wrong with you? It’s supposed to be a bad thing!”

  “Sorry,” I say, shrugging. “But are you still gonna jerk on my dick until you rip it off? Because I totally think you should. I deserve it.” I smile a toothy smile at her and she lets go of my cock and flops back onto the sofa. Which is a massive let-down for me.

  “Fuck!” she calls out. “Am I crazy for wanting to do this?”

  “I mean… yeah,” I say, matter-of-factly, as I sit at the end of the sofa, pulling her feet onto my lap and unbuckling her shoes.

  “But… I think I have to. You get that, right?” she asks, looking at me earnestly.

  “Yeah. I get it. I wish I fuckin’ didn’t, but I do,” I say as I drop one shoe to the floor, then the other, and begin massaging her feet.

  “Mmmm,” she lets out, dropping her head back on a throw pillow.

  “See?” I say. “You think Carlos will do this shit for you?”

  She lifts her head and props herself on her elbows. “Are you… jealous? Is that what this is about?”

  “No, dummy!” I say, flicking her big toe with my finger.

  “Ow, fucker! I’m not like you. I feel pain and shit.”

  “Sorry, sorry,” I say, kissing her toe. “You can stab me with something if you want.”

  “You’d like it.” She grins.

  “What? Is that weird?” I ask, kissing the other four toes now.

  “Tyler, Tyler, stop,” she says. I do stop. I don’t wanna. But I do. She gets a serious look and says, “You really do understand? I have to do this.”

  “Yeah,” I acquiesce, “I understand. I just…”

  “What? What is it? You just what? Say it.”

  I can feel my heart beating in my dick. And not just because it’s throbbing with want for her. My whole body is pulsing.

  “I just… love you, Maddie. And there’s about a million ways something like this can go wrong. And if anything happens to you… I’ll…”

 

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