Varick’s dumb-ass vice president was the one who decided their Motorcycle Club needed to become a full MC and start running drugs up the coast. Varick had just wanted to have a group of friends who all enjoyed riding together.
Well, if it hadn’t been for that, Mischka would have never been sent into the field in Santa Cruz to investigate the Pride by his Uncles for the Private Investigation Firm. Mischka had been the right age to make friends with the tattooed motorcycle enthusiast leader of the Pride.
The things that fucking man got his ass into. He thought for a minute and bit hard on his lip. He certainly shouldn’t be thinking about Varick’s ass at the moment, but there it was. He sighed and glared at the annoying bulge in his jeans. Dammit. He blamed it on being left high and dry by his boy. Still, Varick seriously had an amazing ass. He groaned in frustration. That fucking man was less interested in sex than anyone he’d ever seen in his life, except maybe for one of his sisters. Perhaps since Devan had got him going, Mischka could convince him to have a bit of fun one of these days.
Mischka attempted to will away his annoying erection. Of course, there was a chance talking to this person was going to make the situation in his pants worse as well. He tapped the call button on the number he had selected, hoping he was still in the office.
“Santa Cruz Federal Bureau of Investigations,” came the response from the switchboard operator. “Extension please.”
“4593,” he answered. There was a long pause then the sound of another line ringing.
“Special Agent Marco Desoto.” The sound of his voice after such a long time was enough to send blood to his face.
“Marco.” He felt his face slip into a smile, even without intending. It seemed there was still a bit of spark there after all. Marco was a good man. He’d known him a long time, and they’d been through a lot together so he knew he could trust the agent. “It’s Mischka.”
“Hey, man, what’s up? I heard you left Cali for the Midwest?” Marco commented, and he heard the talking in the background diminish. Mischka guessed he shut his office door.
“Yeah, I did, but I need your special brand of help again.”
“That kind of help, huh?” Marco sighed in obvious exasperation.
“Yeah, so you remember our friend, I’m sure.” He smirked, because he knew it had been a while since they busted The Pride.
“Of course, how is the tough bastard?” Mischka could hear the smirk in his voice.
Marco had got on really well with Varick when they had all worked together. There had been a lot of times the three of them had been stuck in little no-tell motels. Between dodging tails and avoiding getting shot, they were often hopped up on adrenaline. Varick would pass out, and on more than one occasion Marco and Mischka ended up entangled. Even as they were getting enough evidence to put away the stupid fuck for good, Mischka had started to realize he felt more than a small attraction to his friend. Marco had provided relief, but it wasn’t the relief he wanted. That had been incredibly frustrating for Mischka, because not only had he been stuck in the same room, he was sometimes in the same bed, as Varick. He couldn’t see his boy to relieve the incredible tension it caused for several months, so it had worked out with Marco also being in need. Marco had been on the outs with his current wife. Needless to say, when he’d gotten his hands on Artemis again, he swore the boy couldn’t walk straight or speak without being hoarse for a month. Of course, Artemis hadn’t minded at all.
“Well, he’s gotten into some shit again,” Mischka sighed deeply. “And I have a favor to ask for myself as well.”
“What is it? After the help you and yours still give us out here, I’m always willing to repay the favor, if I can, of course.” Mischka noted Marco had completely slipped into his business mode.
“He’s mixed up in the Family feud, and there’s a vic for witsec. The vic fits the perversity aspect of the other one’s profile, if you know what I mean,” he trailed off thoughtfully.
“No, I’ve heard of it. My first partner got sent to St. Louis for that case, actually. She’s a good one, too. One of the few women I’ve see make it in this field. She can roll with the boys better than most,” he remarked firmly. “When she got offered the spot, she asked me what I thought. I told her organized crime was tough work, but she could manage it. She’s been working the case like ten years....”
Mischka sighed, more out of relief than anything. “Well, here’s the thing, if half of what I hear in my channels is true, they might be more compromised here than they think. He’s got his fingers in a lot of pies, if y’know what I mean. He may be losing his mind, but you know how Irish are. Doesn’t matter what he does. Hell, he could run around naked with a lampshade hat, and the Family would smile and nod before they even mentioned pushing him out of power.”
“You got that right, fucking bastards are all like that. Hell, I busted down a Mafia boss not long ago who used to talk to his dead wife like she was standing with him. But he was the Family Head, so they didn’t oust him.” Marco snorted in laugher. “I bet the crazy fuck’s got a second running the show.” He seemed to be thinking out loud. “So, what is it exactly you want? I mean, I’ve seen the reports of what he does to young men he gets hold of, so I’m guessing that’s what you’re talking about.”
“Talk this agent into letting us take them.” Mischka hadn’t even talked to the others about it, but he knew when they found out what was going on, they wouldn’t argue. “Y’know we’ve got the ability to keep them safe, and you know damn well if you put them into a regular witsec, chances are someone on the detail will be compromised.”
Marco was silent for a long time. “It’s a tall order, Misch. I mean... It is asking a lot. To sanction a civilian residence as a witsec safe house...”
“Marco, I bet I know every safe house in a hundred miles of both here and there. And if I do, you know someone with resources and money will too,” he snapped at Marco. “Besides, you know this place is a feckin’ fortress. Hell, I’m probably still on the watch list as it is.”
For a second Mischka thought he heard Marco snort again. There was the sound Marco tapping a pen on his desk. “I mean, you aren’t wrong. You’ll stay there, amor. Look, no promises. I’ll call my friend there, tell her if she feels like it isn’t safe, she can take it up the chain. You know it isn’t up to us alone. I’ll vouch with the upper offices, but your people are already on record as being verified informants and private investigators. Business wise, you’ve all got your licenses up to date, right?”
“Guns, cars, residences, business, got it all. Marco, you know we run above board. That’s not going to change. Doesn’t matter who I’m related to, what I do is legal,” he stated firmly, feeling like he might just be getting somewhere. He hoped so, at least.
“Okay, look, got anything else that might make her change her mind if she doesn’t go for it?” Marco asked, and he could hear him scratching notes onto a pad.
“Just...look, this boy’s been through a lot in his life, and we’ve got a nurse he knows well, so his medical could be taken care of easily. I know if they’re offering information, your people will have offered amnesty, because this is a big bust,” he rushed, hoping this was going to work.
“I’ll do what I can, but no promises.”
Mischka debated whether or not to continue with what he was thinking about telling Marco. It wasn’t like he couldn’t find out but he felt like it was a necessary piece of information. This might pus h him to act when nothing else would. “Ah, the vic we wanna protect, he’s a grandson.”
A long silence ensued. “Fuck, really, Misch? How the fuck do you get in these messes?”
He chuckled. He finally pushed him to curse outside of an orgasm. “Yeah, well. You know us. Apples don’t fall far, as they say.”
“Tch. Alright, I’ll try to help out, so stay out of it until you hear from us. I’ll tell her if her witness goes missing to track your Irish ass down.”
“Ah, feck you.”
&nbs
p; Marco chuckled. “If you insist, but the Midwest is kinda away for booty calls. This number good for you?”
“Yeah, public listing, so you can pass it on, and keep it on hand,” he was just hoping things worked out the way he needed them to work out.
“Alright, take care, Seath.” There was a silence before Marco spoke again. “Next time, call me without it being business, Misch.” Then, the line cut off.
Mischka sat on the bed for a long while and tried to figure out exactly how he was going to handle this. He rubbed his crotch and knew he was going to be far too busy to jerk off, so he was just going to have to suffer. He supposed he should call in the others... If the reports coming across the desk at the PI office lately were right, the St. Louis law enforcement and feds was well paid off by the Callaghans.
He couldn’t let his boy suffer by losing his Kie. And he also didn’t want to lose Leo.
SO FAR, THE PAPERWORK had been a nightmare. The requests for outside personnel alone had killed a small forest. The noble sacrifice of those trees in this digital age was ridiculous. One would think something called a Paperwork Reduction Act would have, you know, reduced paperwork. Instead, it seemed like they found more reasons to need back up hard copy than ever before. The biggest problem with digital communication in this situation was she had no idea who was compromised and who could intercept digital copies of orders. The orders she was currently going over were her attempts to place the four guys in protective and get them in a safe house as soon as possible.
Lauren had to get these guys in a protected location immediately. The hospital worked for the moment, but she knew it couldn’t stay that way; it was far too public so they couldn’t conceivably lock down the whole place. She had half her field office out watching the area, as well as some police officers from the city. However, she had run into a major problem. She picked up a file and stared at it for a long time, already feeling angry and frustrated beyond belief. They had a leak. In her office. In her fucking division. They had a mole, and she was livid. Despite being furious, she appeared placid as always.
The report was from one of the field agents who had a criminal informant inside Callaghan’s organization. He’d been reliable in the past, so she had no reason to doubt him when he passed the word Callaghan already knew where Kieran Sung was, and was planning to go take him back by force. However, the informant didn’t know how soon, or exactly what he planned to do. Callaghan had issued kill orders on the two men who had helped Devan Sullivan take his “treasure”, and issued capture orders on the young doctor and Devan. The orders had been issued as open contracts; this meant anyone could try and fulfill them, from inside or outside the Callaghan Family. That type of contract could lead to collateral damages.
Lauren put away the file and picked another. She glanced at this report, which was from one of her contacts inside the O’Brien Family. While not as alarming as the first report on the contracts, this was concerning from the standpoint that people were going to die. The contact had said O’Brien was more than furious; he had called all the outlying Family into a private conference. Though only those present knew exactly what happened in the room, the informant said not one person left without direct orders. The informant said they’d heard O’Brien wanted to limit bloodshed, but it didn’t mean there wouldn’t be plenty before this was over. At the very end, the O’Brien contact stated they were sure Callaghan owned “eighty percent of the law” in St. Louis. They were scared because nowhere would be safe for anyone connected to O’Brien. Lauren knew the eighty percent of the law had to include her office.
Sighing in frustration, Lauren ran hands through her dark hair. What the hell was she going to do with these four? If her office was compromised, no matter where she took them, there was a chance they could be hit right under her nose. Devan Sullivan was the fucking keystone she was building her case on, having been inside both organizations. The two others, Carmine and Varick, they were almost bystanders, having fallen into the bad luck of being good Samaritans doing the right thing. And the doctor... She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to put him on the stand. She’d seen some people who could come through that kind of assault and speak on the stand, but with his problems even talking in public, she wasn’t sure he’d be able handle it.
Still, even if they managed to say the rape had been consensual sex she had the PRAK, and the doctor’s report which made it clear it wasn’t. The pattern of injuries was indicative of nonconsensual acts, and the presence of some kind of substance which seemed to be an arousal gel or lubricant was also suspicious. Of course, the blood work had also come back with some interesting results, such as the presence of a small quantity of Viagra in his system. Kieran had indicated in the report he’d been forced into an orgasm, and it was obvious he was bothered by this fact. Most of the male victims she’d worked with were mortified when they were forced into “enjoying it.” He’d also been given a sedative, valium it looked like. By the time the tox screen was done, the amounts were almost negligible. She knew Kieran hadn’t mentioned having been given anything in his statement, but he said he’d “fallen asleep” for a while. Lauren was guessing he’d been given something during that time, and rather than sleeping, the doctor had actually simply fallen unconscious for a while. The beating he had taken beforehand would have been enough to knock him flat.
She looked out the windows of her office and watched the people she had worked so closely with for the last ten years move about, doing their jobs. All it took was one of them, one who was dirty, one who was bound to Callaghan in some way...
She was surprised out of her thoughts by her cell phone ringing. She glanced at it curiously because not many people had her number. She frowned, seeing the name pop up. Picking up the phone, she found herself grinning because he hadn’t given her a call in almost three months now. Not since he got married. Again. He seriously just needed to find him a steady man instead of this slew of wives he had. She thought this was wife number five.
“Marco?” she asked, standing up and flipping the blinds on the window down.
“Hola, que pasa, chica?” came her ex partner’s voice.
Before she left California ten years ago, Marco Desoto had been her partner from the time she started in the FBI. They’d been together for almost five years before the promotion came up to head the organized crime division in St. Louis. She had to admit, now as she was nearing forty, she was getting a bit tired of the life she’d been leading in the field for fifteen years now.
“Um, well, in the middle of a major break with you know who...” she began, wondering just why Marco was calling her right now.
“I got a call today, from a mutual. I heard about what’s happening down your way, and wanted to buzz you and see how it was going.”
“Well, I have to admit it’s been better. I’ve got people who need protection, and I’m seeing evidence I might not be able to protect them.” She knew Marco was well aware of the situation; he had been hare partner on the exact same case before. “One of these people is a keystone.”
“That’s actually what I called about. See, we know this guy in St. Louis. You remember he moved from me to you. If you want to get these people completely off the grid, he would be able to help. You’d have to get approval, of course, but if you’ve got even a chance of being compromised...”
She back sat down. “I see. Our mutual. The one you were fucking or his uncle?”
There was silence on the other end and then a sigh. “Well, if you put it that way, technically, both.”
KIERAN HAD MANAGED a fitful sleep on the exam room table after his father had taken him down to radiology to check his face and ribs. He had been plagued by memories he would rather not think about. He woke several times, reaching for someone, anyone, and every time he found hands and arms there willing to hold him until he fell back asleep. I am not alone, I know I am not, he would think as he fell asleep again.
He never noticed who it was, and he did not care. He knew for su
re whoever came to him was Devan, Carmine, or Varick. It was enough for him to trust in. He did not understand why he could accept this so willingly, but he had an idea it had to do with their willingness to be there for his needs. Knowing someone would answer his needs so readily rather than chastise him for having them meant more to him than anyone could ever know.
He woke with a start and sat up from a particularly awful sensation. It was not a dream so much as this horrible, aching feeling of being alone and completely out of control. He felt someone put an arm around his shoulders, and he glanced to his left and saw it was Devan. His thoughts were still hazy about the events from last night, at least afterward was hazy; he vividly remembered every detail of what happened before. No matter how hard he tried, Kieran seemed to retain memories he would rather forget. No doubt, this would be one of those events. Eventually all the details would clarify in his mind, leaving clear memories of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Eidetic memory... As if having the problems he dealt with weren’t enough, he had to remember every detail of everything in horrific clarity, even when he would rather not remember at all.
“Morning, Cutie,” Devan told him. “You had a rough night,” he continued, watching him with a look Kieran was not sure he understood. It was not pity, he had seen that look often enough; no, it was something else entirely.
“D-Devan,” Kieran stammered. “I... I... I...” He searched for the words he needed but he could not find them. They were just outside his ability to speak them. Kieran knew what he needed; he needed Devan to tighten his grip. He needed him to squeeze him as tight as he could, but his traitorous mouth would not form the words. He was about to manage it. I can do this, he told himself. I can verbalize what I need.
Stolen Innocence Page 29
