The Cain Conspiracy

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The Cain Conspiracy Page 7

by Mike Ryan


  “I, uhh,” he started. “I apologize.”

  Heather didn’t respond. She wanted to but just didn’t know what to say. She leaned on her side, with her hand on her head, her arm being supported by the couch. She looked at him and could see how remorseful he was. He didn’t look like a man who was proud of what he’d just done.

  “If you’re having second thoughts about anything you don’t have to worry,” Cain stated. “I’ll let Sanders know I told you to stay away. He won’t give you any problems.”

  “Sanders is the least of my problems now,” she said with a laugh. “Tommy was right. He knows all the major players in this town. He’ll make sure I don’t work again. Looks like I’m unemployed now.”

  “I truly am sorry.”

  Cain was certain Heather didn’t want to be near him anymore and started to make his way toward the door.

  “Hey,” Heather shouted.

  “Yeah?” Cain replied, turning around.

  “I really wasn’t worried about him. I was worried about you.”

  “I really wasn’t in any danger.”

  “I know. That’s what I was worried about. You made it look so easy.”

  Cain nodded and turned back around to head for the door. He put his hand on the knob before Heather stopped him again.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Back to my place.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like me.”

  “You still,” Cain started to say.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” she responded, trying to calm his fears. “I know you were only trying to protect me. And I really am thankful and grateful for that.”

  Cain nodded his head in reply, not wanting to actually say words in response.

  “The fact is that nobody’s ever defended me like that before, or at all really,” she stated. “It felt kind of good that you were there to protect me. I just got kind of scared at how far you were taking it.”

  “I guess once I got caught up in things,” Cain started. Heather interrupted him before he could complete his thought.

  “It’s OK. Really. You don’t have to explain anything. Really, you don’t.”

  “OK,” he relented.

  “I guess I saw what makes you so valuable to Sanders, huh?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Where’d you learn all those moves?” she wondered.

  “To be honest I have no idea. An hour ago I didn’t even realize I could do some of those things.”

  “Well, just give me a few more minutes to pack and I’ll be all ready,” she said.

  Heather went back into the bedroom to finish up as Cain sat down to wait for her. A few minutes later she emerged with a rolling suitcase and a duffel bag. As they left the apartment Heather wondered if she’d ever come back to it. She really didn’t have many ties to it and intentionally kept the place devoid of too many personal items. They kept talking once they were in the cab as they drove back to Cain’s apartment.

  “I hate all the traffic in this city,” Heather sighed.

  “Isn’t this normal?”

  “Yeah, I suppose so. The Rangers play tonight so it’s gonna be even worse since it’s a playoff game.”

  “Oh.”

  “You like hockey?”

  “Who? Me? I love hockey,” Cain stated. “That’s a silly question. Why would you even ask that?”

  “Have you even watched a game before?”

  “Seriously? I feel a little insulted now,” he joked. “Questioning my hockey knowledge.”

  “When was the last game you went to?” Heather insisted.

  “Uhh, well, you know, it’s been a while.”

  “Who played?” she asked, smiling.

  “It was, uhh…the Rangers,” he paused. “And the…Devils. The Devils, that’s right.”

  “You have no idea do you?”

  “Well, you know…I have that whole memory thing going on right now.”

  They both looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  “We should go to a game some time,” Heather said.

  “Yeah. I’d like that.”

  Once they got back to Cain’s apartment, Heather put some of her things away. Once she finished she went into the living room, sitting on a chair. Cain still felt bad about what transpired at her apartment and wondered what he could do to make it up to her.

  “You know, I was thinking that maybe it’s a good idea if you didn’t go back to your apartment for a little while,” Cain said.

  “Why?”

  “I dunno. Just in case your friends come back around for some reason. I’d feel better if you didn’t go back.”

  “Where am I supposed to go?” she wondered.

  “Well, you could stay here for a few weeks.”

  “Well that’s really nice of you…but I couldn’t impose on you like that.”

  “You’re not imposing. I’d like you to stay. Besides, it’s kind of my fault about what happened. I wouldn’t want to worry about you staying there by yourself.”

  “You’d worry about me?” Heather asked, a little amazed.

  “Yeah. I would.”

  “Well, I guess I could stay a couple weeks. I mean, just until I get a new job and find a new place. Luckily I only have two months to go on the lease so I’m not losing out too much.”

  “So if you can’t keep, uhh, doing what you’re doing,” Cain started. “Then what’re you gonna do? Move somewhere else?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe I’ll actually try to find a real job. It’s kinda scary not having a job.”

  “Well, like I said, you can stay here as long as it takes.”

  Chapter 4

  Sanders was in a meeting with his five Deputy Directors going over new files and information on possible targets. Every week they went over pertinent information about new targets or anything that was learned about targets they were actively seeking. Each Director had a touch screen computer embedded in the oval table at his location, to which the information could be transferred and seen by everybody via a screen on the wall. Each Deputy Director was in charge of a different region which included North and South America, Europe, Asia, and Africa. Tim Wells, Deputy Director of South America passed a file over to Sanders and began going over the information, using the computer at his location.

  “Mario Contreras,” Wells began, as Contreras’ name and picture popped up on the screen. “He’s a guy who first popped up on our radar several months ago.”

  Also appearing on the screen was his list of offenses, physical description, marks or scars, aliases, and photos.

  “This outstanding citizen is a Honduran national who was one of three men involved in the kidnapping, rape, and murder of a six year old girl in New York seven years ago. He was 23 at the time. It was planned as a ransom that went bad. The other two men were captured, sentenced, and currently serving time in federal prison. Contreras, however, managed to avoid capture and disappeared without a trace. It was assumed he went back to South America, probably back to Honduras, though there was never any evidence to suggest that was so. Until last week,” Wells continued, waiting for the photos on the screen to load. “These pictures were taken last week of Contreras in Honduras in the city of San Pedro Sula.”

  “What’s the FBI’s take on it, Tim?” Sanders asked.

  “He was on their top ten for two years but they have no leads on him and he’s seemingly falling off their radar. They have other fish to fry.”

  “Makes him a good target for us,” Sanders mused.

  “I was thinking it might make a good first assignment for Cain,” Wells stated.

  Sanders stared at the screen, only taking his eyes off it to look at Wells momentarily, his fingers stroking his chin, deep in thought.

  “I agree,” Sanders finally said. “Hand the file over to Shelly and have her work out the details with Cain.”

  “Right.”

  �
��What else you got?”

  Wells spent the next half hour going over various forms of information he’d received, not all of it deemed reliable or anything that could be acted upon soon. Anything that was agreed on to be relevant was saved for future use so they could acquire more information or scheduled to be handed out to a handler. Once the meeting ended, Wells went back to his office and emailed the entire contents of the Contreras file to Shelly Lawson. All handlers got automatic text messages when they received emails so any new information or cases were handled promptly.

  Lawson was in a small coffee shop when she got the text alerting her to a new email. She was going over logistics of a mission of another agent when she logged onto her tablet to check the email’s contents. As an agency, Contreras was usually not the kind of target that they went after. He was not a threat to the safety and security of the United States, which was their primary goal. But he was the perpetrator of a major crime that escaped punishment, which they sometimes decided worthy of pursuing if time allowed and it could be done quickly. They also usually picked these cases for new agents to get them acclimated to the agency and how things were done. Lawson began working immediately on the file and quickly engulfed herself on the contents. While working on it she decided to give Cain a heads up to let him know a mission was coming his way so he could start mentally preparing for it. She took her phone out of her purse and dialed his number.

  “How you feeling?” Lawson asked.

  “OK I guess.”

  “Getting tired and bored of sitting there?”

  “A little bit,” he replied.

  “Well, looks like that’ll be ending soon.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You’re being given a mission.”

  “Where?”

  “Honduras,” she said.

  “What’s the target?”

  “I’ll go over everything with you tomorrow. Come into the Center at ten o’clock and I’ll give you the details. I’m still working things out right now.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Cain walked into the Center at 9:55, greeting the receptionist, before swiping his card to go through the door located in the back. He was greeted by Lawson.

  “Anxious or excited?” she asked.

  “Neither really,” Cain solemnly said.

  They took the elevator up to the fourth floor to go to Lawson’s office. Almost all offices in the building were surrounded by glass except for the Director, Deputy Directors, and offices used for special purposes such as interviewing or interrogation. They sat down at her desk and she handed him copies of all the information she had about the case. Cain opened the folder and started reading the file.

  “When do I leave?” Cain wondered.

  “Tomorrow. Your plane ticket’s in there.”

  Cain looked in the back of the folder and took the ticket out, holding it up, looking at both sides of it. He looked somewhat confused.

  “There’s no return ticket?” Cain asked.

  “It’s up to you to purchase one to get back once the mission’s been completed. We don’t like to rush our agents into making decisions that aren’t in their best interests just so they can catch a plane. Take your time to do it right and come back when you’re done. You’ll fly down to Miami from JFK here in New York and take a connecting flight to Honduras from there on American Airlines. Your flight from JFK is 2:00pm on Monday. Should take a little over six hours to get there. With the two hour time difference you should be there around seven.”

  “What do you want me to do when I get him?”

  “Eliminate him. He’s not to be taken, captured, or transported. We only work one way.”

  “Dead,” Cain said.

  “Other agencies worry about capturing and all that stuff.”

  “Too much red tape?”

  “Take him out and it’s done. That simple.”

  “How will I know where to find Contreras?”

  “You’ll be flying in to the Ramon Villeda Morales International Airport, which is about seven miles outside of San Pedro Sula. Once you arrive you’ll be greeted by a man named Javier Ruiz. He’ll update you on the situation when you arrive.”

  “Why not just have this Ruiz take care of it then if he’s already there?” Cain wondered.

  “Because he’s not trained to eliminate targets. He lives and works there and feeds us information. We can’t have locals doing the jobs themselves and risk compromising them,” Lawson informed.

  “Is this Ruiz trustworthy?”

  “Very. We’ve worked with him before. He’s very reliable. There are absolutely no issues with that. Once you arrive, Ruiz will supply you with whatever weapons you need.”

  “I’m going unarmed?”

  “While it is possible to get a gun through security there’s no need to take risks when you can be supplied with one as soon as you touch ground. But I do suggest obtaining a weapon be your first priority once you arrive.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because Honduras has the highest murder rate in the world and is one of the poorest countries in Latin America. Crime is widespread and foreigners are deemed to be wealthy and frequently targeted. In the last 17 years there have been 113 U.S. citizens murdered there with only 29 resolved cases. There are roughly three murders in that city alone every day. Be aware of driving at night as carjacking is prevalent, as well as crimes of opportunity.”

  “Great. I’m excited already,” Cain deadpanned.

  “Contreras has been seen in the tourist city of San Pedro Sula which has seen armed robberies against cars traveling from the airport, most likely on tips received from someone working at the airport. Several citizens have been murdered shortly after arriving so it’s quite possible you’ll be targeted as soon as you arrive.”

  “And I’m not going armed?” Cain sarcastically asked.

  “You’ll be fine. Don’t worry,” Lawson replied.

  “Oh, yeah, can’t see any reason why I wouldn’t be.”

  “Also, don’t drink the water.”

  “And I thought that was just a bad punch line.”

  “They lack the substantial infrastructure to maintain water purity so only buy bottled water,” she continued. “I also wouldn’t eat any raw fish, fruit, or vegetables.”

  “Right.”

  “Hot foods, fresh bread, coffee, tea, beer, and dry food like crackers are usually fine to eat.”

  “Well that’s encouraging.”

  “Assuming you don’t get them from street vendors,” she said smiling.

  “Wow, this is a regular vacation destination.”

  “Remember, the sooner you get it done, the sooner you get home.”

  “These are the photos of Contreras that were taken of him last week,” Lawson said, putting them down on the desk. “And just in case you have second thoughts about killing him, this is the photo of the little girl he raped and killed.”

  Cain stared at Lawson for a few seconds before putting his eyes on the picture of the little girl. He picked the photo up, and focused on it, her image being burned into his mind.

  “It’ll be done,” Cain plainly stated.

  After leaving the Center, Cain went back to his apartment. Heather was already in the kitchen preparing lunch for them.

  “You know I was thinking about getting tickets for the Rangers game on Tuesday. What do you think?” Heather asked.

  “Umm…I’m gonna have to take a rain check on it,” he regretfully replied. “I’m going out of town for a few days.”

  “Oh,” she said, a hint of disappointment showing in her voice. “For your work?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I can’t really say. It shouldn’t take long though. I should be back in a couple days.”

  “OK. Well, I hope you have a good trip.”

  Cain sat down at the table as Heather continued making their lunch. She brought over a couple of turkey sandwiches, chips, and sodas for the
both of them.

  “So when are you leaving?” Heather wondered.

  “Monday.”

  They ate in silence for a few minutes, neither able to figure out the right words to say. Cain could tell she seemed uneasy about something though he wasn’t sure what it was.

  “Are you gonna be OK here by yourself for a few days?” Cain asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure? Cause I could try to get someone to come stay with you while I’m gone.”

  “Really? You’re acting like I’m in witness protection or something. I’ve been living on my own for a few years now. I think I’ll be fine a few days without you.”

  “Sorry. I guess I’ve got that whole protecting thing going on,” he said.

  “It’s OK. It’s cute. Besides, you leaving will help me out anyway.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I won’t have to look after you,” she kidded. “I’ll be able to spend a lot of time job hunting. I’ll just check out Monster and some other job sites. Hopefully I’ll find a few things.”

  “I’m sure you will. At least you have a degree. That’ll help.”

  “Yeah, but the gap on my resume won’t help too much.”

  “What gap?” Cain asked.

  “Well, I don’t think that putting down stripping and other extracurricular activities on my resume will do much for my job chances.”

  “I see your point.”

  “I thought you might.”

 

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