Rogue Agent

by Kellie Wallace

  “Come on, Jack.” He shook the man’s shoulders violently, knowing the technique had worked on Trix a few times. “Wake up for me, buddy.”

  A wet, gurgling noise sounded from Jack’s throat and his lips opened wide, inhaling a mouthful of air and warm water. Spluttering, he glanced over his shoulder and squinted at Seth.

  “Seth, is that you?” He glanced around him, surveying his odd surroundings. “Why are we in the shower together?”

  “I saved your life.”

  Jack wiped water from his eyes with the back of his hand. “You found me unconscious?”

  “You ODed, Jack. If I didn’t happen to come by when I did, you wouldn’t be breathing. Can you rely on those Muppets by the pool to save your life?”

  “They just offer a roof and a bed, that’s all.”

  “Well, you would’ve done the same for me. Can we get out of here? It’s getting awkward.” Seth helped Jack exit the shower and sat him down on the edge of the bathtub. “You need to go to the hospital for an IV or somethin’.”

  Jack shook his head. “No, I don’t have insurance. When I was fired from Haroun, Spencer stripped me of all my entitlements.”

  “Spencer told me you were on forced leave.”

  “How else can you explain my situation? I fucked up and lost my job. I’m going into the city on Monday to see if I can get unemployment benefits.”

  Seth patted his pockets and withdrew a damp wad of twenty credit notes. He handed them to Jack. “Take this. There’s about one hundred there. Do I have to remind you not to use it on drugs or I’ll kill you?”

  Jack snickered and took the credits appreciatively. “I guess you know where I live.” When he noticed Seth was serious, the smile slipped off his face. “I’ll be good.”

  Seth inspected his wet suit with dismay and motioned for a bath towel hanging nearby. “You owe me a fresh pair of clothes, Jack,” he said, drying his hair.

  “Help yourself to whatever you find in my wardrobe.”

  After five minutes of scouring piles of moth eaten, smelly, and unwashed clothes, Seth dressed into a fresh t-shirt and pair of jeans and dumped his damp suit in the trash can. As he was leaving the bedroom, he spotted a loose ten credit note wedged behind the tallboy.

  Lowering to one knee, he slipped his hand between the wall and the dresser and pulled out a box overflowing with credit notes and dozens of Clandestine vials.

  A burning ember of rage ignited in his belly. What was Jack trying to hide? Judging by this amount of money, he had enough to sustain his independence for months.

  Seth fished through the credit notes, roughly estimating it to be at least forty thousand credits in his hands. He was about to call out to Jack when he located a piece of paper hidden among the booty. It was a note addressed to Jack. It read:

  Jack, this should keep you going for a while. Don’t forget about us. Joca.

  “You slimy fuck bastard,” Seth muttered. Everything made sense now. After the fiasco of Terra tracking Jack down, Spencer couldn’t risk a leakage inside Haroun so he’d bought Jack’s silence, supplying his drug habit and junkie lifestyle. Spencer was cleaning up shop, though it surprised him Jack hadn’t been murdered along with other liabilities. Why was he kept alive?

  Seth scrunched the note into a ball and stormed into the lounge room where Jack was resting. He threw the paper ball at his chest. “Can you care to tell me where you got the money to buy Clandestine, Jack? Clearly, you’re living very close to the poverty line.”

  Jack opened the note, read it and frowned. “I’m sorry, Seth.”

  “Is that all you can say to me? Why aren’t you lying in a field with your head blown off, Jack? Spencer wouldn’t keep you alive and drugged up for nothing. He’s exploiting you!”

  Jack reached for an opened bottle of beer and took a swig. “They knew you would come and find me while on the run. The day I left, Spencer said he would fund my habit and keep a roof over my head if I make contact anytime you see me. Whenever you do, I’m supposed to call a guy called Joca and give him information.”

  “Are you going to tell them about today?”

  “No, you saved my life.”

  “Next time you might not be so lucky.”

  “I’ll take that chance,” Jack said.

  Seth planted his hands on his hips, burying the rage he felt for Jack. Despite his shortcomings and poor character judgment, he knew he could rely on him.

  “Listen I’m dropping you off to a doctor. I don’t care what you say.”

  Jack smirked. “You got it. Was there anything else you needed?”

  “Yeah, do you know of a safe house in Richards County outside New Jersey?”

  “I’ve heard of it. It’s owned by a private treaty.”

  “Give me anything you have on it. Terra’s gone missing and I need to get her back.”

  Jack walked to a cabinet by the front door and sorted through it. “Why? Did you scare her off with your giant cock?” He snickered at his own joke.

  “I told her the truth and I’m afraid it may get her killed.”

  ***

  When the train pulled up at New Jersey station, Terra alighted and dashed through the crowd for the ladies’ restroom. Having spent five hours wedged against the window and blocked from the carriage bathrooms, emptying her bladder was the first priority.

  When she entered, it appeared other women had the same idea, lining up to use the toilet. All seven stalls were occupied, evident by the flashing “Engaged” screens on each stall door.

  Terra let out a sigh and cocked her hip, expecting a long wait. She stretched her arms over her head, thankful for the extra space. She vowed to never travel long journeys by train again, though she wouldn’t have had to if Seth hadn’t announced he’d killed her father. She chastised herself for getting close to him too soon. Was she that desperate for male attention, a father figure?

  Her throat constricted against a new wave of tears and she bit back a cry. When she first heard the news of his death, Terra sought revenge on the murderer, drawing strength to show her face in public. Once she met Seth, lived, travelled and slept with him, those raw feelings of hate faded. Her yearning to find David’s killer seemed insignificant to the threats on her life.

  Abandoning Seth was hard to do because she’d grown to admire him, depend on him. Even though a part of her missed being around him, she needed to get to Richards County.

  A stall opened up and she rushed inside. When she exited the restroom a few minutes later, the sun had dipped behind the tree line, throwing long shadows over the platform. If she wanted to get to the safe house before dark, she had to get moving.

  She found a taxi waiting on the street and slipped inside. “Richards County, please.”

  The driver spun in his seat. “There’s nothing there but old warehouses and abandoned homes. It’s a dangerous area, love.”

  “My boyfriend is picking me up from there. He’s traveling back from New Jersey and it’s halfway for him.”

  The man didn’t look convinced, and shrugged anyway. “Okay.”

  Terra patted her pockets and withdrew a wilted twenty credit note. Seth had the rest of the money. “Um, sir, I’m afraid I don’t have much to pay you. Can you take me as far as twenty bucks will get me?”

  He glanced at her in the review mirror and smiled. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll get you to Richards County. Consider it your lucky day. What street shall I drop you off?”

  “Ah, can you please let me out on the main drag? It’ll be easier for my boyfriend to find me.”

  “Will do.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the taxi pulled up beside a dilapidated brick church, a beam of moonlight streaming through the broken stained glass window. Terra handed the driver the money and remained seated, looking through her window. Nightfall had settled upon the remains of Richards County, giving it an eerie presence. There were few street lights on and a dog howled somewhere in the distance.

  “Having second thoughts,
love?” the driver asked.

  Terra wrapped her fingers around the door handle. “No, I’m trying to remember the street name where I was meeting my boyfriend.”

  “Do you want me to stay until he arrives?”

  “It’s okay, thank you anyway. I’ll be fine.” Terra exited the taxi, shut the door, and watched the vehicle drive tentatively down the street. A little part of her wished she was still seated in the back seat. It was foolish to race off to Richards County without knowing the safe house address, but she was desperate.

  She stood underneath a dome of light and wrapped her arms around her trembling frame. She thought of Seth back at the hotel, the last moment they had shared together. The memory of his kiss made her lips quiver.

  A neighborhood cat leapt onto trashcans across the street, making her jump in her skin. Terra cursed under her breath. She was such a coward, leaving Seth behind. Her childish temerity had screwed everything up. She was defenseless and vulnerable out here.

  “Do you have a death wish or something?”

  Terra shrieked at the figure grinning at her in the dark. He stepped into the light and she sucked in a breath of surprise. “Seth, you ass,” she hissed. “You scared me. What are you doing here?”

  “Saving your hide. What else?” He joined her under the streetlight and uncurled his maroon scarf to wrap around her neck.

  “How did you find me?” She studied him with a hooked eyebrow. He wore an old t-shirt and a pair of jeans, far from the designer suit she was used to seeing him wear.

  “It wasn’t hard. There’s only one train that travels straight to New Jersey. Once at the station, I asked around and people saw you get into a cab. I’ve been here in Richards County for an hour looking for you. I was walking the streets when I saw a strange woman standing by herself in the dark. Since this place is relatively deserted, I knew it was you.”

  “Announce yourself next time. You could’ve been a rapist.”

  “Why did you run off in the first place? I’m here to help you.”

  Terra hoped the yellow glow of the street lamps would hide her blush. “I had to know if I could trust you.”

  “I saved your life. Isn’t that enough?”

  “How did you expect me to react?” she said. “You admitted to killing my father. I wasn’t going to run into your arms and ask you to marry me.”

  “It’s a bit foolish to come out by yourself,” Seth retorted. “You’re lucky it was me in the dark and not some rapist. It’s a dangerous neighborhood. The city has pretty much given up on it.”

  “I can promise you I’ll never run off again.”

  “Is that the truth or a lie?”

  Terra dug her chin into his scarf. It smelled of him. “The truth.”

  “Good.” Seth glanced into the dark, one hand hovering over what Terra assumed to be a pistol in his pocket. “You never got the address from your contact. How do you know which house it is?”

  She shrugged. “Woman’s intuition? I don’t know.”

  He stepped out from the safety of the light and marched the pavement, studying each home. She hastily followed after him, lingering by his side. Now he had found her, Terra never wanted to leave his side.

  “What are you looking for?” she asked.

  “Most safe houses have little nuances about them that prove they’re still inhabited. Might be a brand new doorknob or polished letter box. Some might even have a satellite dish on the roof, which is a dead giveaway given everything is digital nowadays.”

  They searched the block under fractured moonlight, creeping through naked gardens and cracked driveways. After twenty minutes of searching, Terra grew weary and sat down on the stoop of a cottage at the end of the street. Her feet ached and her eyes felt heavy with sleep. Seth stood in front of her, hands on his hips, scanning the neighborhood for any movement.

  “I need to rest, Seth,” she said. “Can we stay here until morning?”

  “The house may be occupied. Let me check first.” Seth cupped his hands and peered into the soiled front windows. Once he was satisfied there were no signs of life inside, he skirted around the back for a few minutes and returned. “There’s no one home. I couldn’t see any lights or candles. I’ve already jimmied the back door open.” When Terra didn’t move from her place, Seth extended his hand. “It’s safe. Come with me.”

  She followed him down the side of the house toward the porch where he entered tentatively, pistol drawn at the blackness. A mouse scuttled across the floor, startling them both.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Seth dug a pocket-sized flashlight from his jacket and turned it on, bathing the kitchen in a muted gleam.

  The beam of light fell onto termite infested floorboards, moth eaten furniture and a pair of well-worn sneakers at the entrance of the kitchen. Seth gasped when a face squinted back at them in the torch light.

  “Dawson! What are you doing here?” he asked. “I thought this place was deserted.”

  He stepped out of the beam of light until half his body was aglow. “This is Samantha Quinn’s safe house. I’ve been tracking you for some time.”

  “What do you mean?” Seth stepped forward and whacked his knee on a kitchen cabinet. “Shit! Dawson, can we have some light here or something?”

  He reached over and switched on a portable lamp by his side. Terra could now see him more clearly. Dawson was short and stumpy, his dark clothing camouflaging a beer belly spilling over his jeans. Unkempt ash blond hair concealed a large forehead, falling into beady brown eyes. They gazed at her and interest dawned. “So you’re the formidable Terra Bloom.”

  “In the flesh.”

  “You’re prettier in person.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Seth stepped up between them. “Kids, we don’t have time to play. Dawson, how did you know where to find us?”

  “Sheer luck. I saw you stalking the neighborhood and this house was the last on the street. It doesn’t take a genius, Seth.”

  “How do you know Samantha?” Terra asked. “She’s not affiliated with many.”

  “She’s dead.”

  A ball of air formed in Terra’s throat. “For what reason? She was an innocent bystander.”

  Dawson shook his head. “Not in Spencer’s eyes. She provided another reason for you to hide from him. I’m sorry.”

  “Who killed her?”

  “A man named Joca Ryan.”

  Terra swallowed a cry and stared at a coffee stain on the bench. She promised to avenge all of those who died and take out Joca Ryan personally.

  “What are you doing here then?” Seth pointed an accusatory finger at Dawson. “Spencer wouldn’t send you to me unless it was a trap.” He stole a glance around the room. “Are we being recorded?”

  “No, I’ve come here on my own. He doesn’t know I’m here so I’ve taken a big risk. I wanted to tell you to keep running. Spencer will never stop hunting you. He’s ordered Joca on your tail. Killing Samantha Quinn was another move on his chessboard. By eliminating your allies, he’s weakening you.”

  “What about my dad?” Seth asked. “Is he being watched?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  Terra broke free of the conversation and wandered into the blackened living room. She felt the heat of the men’s stare on her back as she kicked at pieces of broken glass and dusty knickknacks.

  “Dawson, is this place safe for a night’s rest? I’m sick of running.”

  “I’ll keep Spencer off this cottage for a few days,” he replied. “He’s planning a thorough search of the area once he collects more intel. You must be out of here by dawn on Wednesday.”

  Seth threw a handful of couch cushions onto the floor and knelt down, making a makeshift bed. Terra noticed the softness of his brow, the lines of concern erased. “We stay in one room,” he said. “I can’t risk someone breaking in and taking you, got it?”

  She nodded and approached Dawson, placing a feather light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for b
reaking the rules for us. It means a lot.”

  Two spots of color erupted on his cheeks. It was probably the first time a woman had complimented him.

  “It’s nothing, really. Seth and I mightn’t have the brightest future, however, you are worth breaking the rules for. Haroun Agency must be stopped.”

  “Terra has a good point,” Seth interjected, tossing one more cushion onto the floor. “Why are you helping us? You and I never got along. I can’t say we’re even friends.”

  Dawson scratched at his head absentmindedly. “I’ve been working for Spencer for as long as you have, Seth. I see all the bad he does, even if he justifies it by believing he’s killing criminals. I’ve held my tongue for years in fear of my life. I don’t care if I lose my job. Many people have died and I did nothing to stop it.” He pointed at Terra. “But I can stop it because of you. Terra, you represent what is lacking in this world—redemption and hope. I’m helping you because I don’t want the Spencers of this world to win. As long as you keep this conversation to yourselves, I will try my hardest to keep you one step ahead of Spencer at all times.”

  The men shook hands. “It’s a deal.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Never did Seth think he’d hate the smell of cigarette smoke. Sitting in Donald’s dark, claustrophobic apartment with a cloud of smoke hovering over his head made him rethink his favorite vice. The stench embedded his skin, his hair, and his clothes. Or, perhaps it wasn’t so much the smell he minded as the reminder of Trix. Any time after a show at the club or a walk down to the Hudson, she’d fish a cigarette from her purse and puff on it until the stench enveloped them both. God, how he missed her. Luckily for him, Terra provided a welcome distraction.

  She perched on the edge of the couch, cradling a cup of lukewarm coffee, and Seth chuckled at her sheet flattened hair. The sleepless nights at the safe house had delayed their trip to Queens by one day. Knowing Spencer was closing in ensured they slept with both eyes open.