Most wanted alexander ki.., p.9
Most Wanted (Alexander King Book 3), page 9
While José and Lawson made sure everything was locked and loaded, and José began plotting their course, King slipped away to the restroom. He needed to get his mind right. He shut the door behind him, and when he passed the mirror, it was the first time he noticed the damage done by Lawson’s fists. His first thought was that he’d had worse, but really, he wasn’t sure he had.
“How do you always get yourself into these messes?” he asked himself.
He thought about how the day started, with him being upset with himself that he’d let Ortega walk the girl into his place and did nothing about it. And after all the crazy in-between that had happened, the girl was shot and killed anyway. For what? That was the question King couldn’t answer. None of it made sense to him except if it were some sort of personal vendetta. Otherwise, why take the time to frame King for taking the girl, and for the drugs at his home in Kentucky, if no one knew Ortega had even taken the girl?
There was clearly something deeper going on, but that brought him to why he needed to get away to think. Ortega must have had a hand in setting King up. But was he the only one? King had to think past Ortega. He had to understand for himself if it was even worth it to go after the guy right now. He understood Lawson’s motivation. Revenge. Lawson was obviously the type of man who not only didn’t back down from fights but ran toward them. King recognized himself in that trait. But that wasn’t always the best course of action. Running in undermanned usually only served to put someone in more danger than necessary. If King could prove Ortega killed Brittany, the US would send an army after him. Not just a three-man team who hadn’t ever worked together before.
However, what if King couldn’t prove Ortega killed Brittany and planted the drugs? Then what? Ortega goes on being the criminal scumbag that he is, and King is still left flapping in the wind with no place to call home. On the run from the government he’d spent his entire adult life protecting.
King turned on the faucet, cupped his hands to fill them with water, and splashed his face. Going to war with someone as well armored as Raúl Ortega was no small thing. And as with every time he found himself in this sort of situation, all he wanted to do was talk to Sam.
King’s burner phone began to ring. He dried his hands and hoped Dbie didn’t have another awful thing to tell him as he pulled out his phone.
“I can’t take any more bad news, Dbie. So just hang up if that’s what you’ve got.”
“Well,” a familiar British accent tickled his ear, “don’t you sound like Sally Sadsack!”
“Sam!”
“You didn’t think I was going to let you have all the fun, now did you?”
“Can you believe this mess?” King stepped to the right and sat on the closed toilet.
“I mean, it is you, Xander. So I’m hard-pressed to be surprised. But whomever you’ve pissed off this time, they are certainly out for your head.”
“Unreal, right?”
“Where are you? Are you all right?”
“Remember José Ramirez?” King said. “The undercover agent from Sinaloa?”
“That wasn’t the big man pulling the girl into the car in the video, was it?”
“No, but he’s with me too. PI hired by Senator McKinley. Long story. Anyway, I’m at José’s secret apartment in Mexico City. He’s been undercover in Ortega’s camp for almost two years.”
“Not any longer, I suppose.”
“He knows where Ortega is. We’re going to hit him while he thinks I’m on the run.”
Sam was quiet. King let her take everything in.
“Don’t do that yet. I’m on an airplane now. I’ll be to you by ten o’clock.”
“I knew you’d find a way. You didn’t have to kill Director Lucas, did you?” He was sarcastic.
“No,” Sam said. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.”
“Be careful coming in. There are eyes everywhere. I can now account for most of it being Ortega’s men, except for one sniper.”
“Sniper? The one who shot Brittany McKinley?”
“Yeah, what do you make of it?”
Sam paused. “Certainly not cartel, but that doesn’t mean it’s one of ours.”
“All the enemies we’ve made across the world, could be from anywhere,” King said.
“My point exactly.”
King’s mind narrowed on one individual in particular who he knew would one day come for him. “You don’t think it could be Bentley Martin, do you?”
Bentley was the girl he’d saved from a car bomb back in London. After trying to keep her safe, she murdered Agent John Karn in cold blood and turned out to be a supremely trained terrorist. Her final vow was revenge against King for killing her terrorist-funding father, Andonios Maragos.
“Could be,” Sam said. “But not likely. As much as I hate to say it, and even though I just told you it didn’t mean the sniper was one of ours, it sure looks like someone with a lot of American connections is trying to bring you down.”
“Great, so we still have no idea.”
“No. So keep your head down and wait till I arrive. At least we’ll be two more numbers with guns.”
“Two more?” King said.
Sam let out a sigh.
“What is it, Sam? What happened?”
“I told Kyle you are alive.”
“What?!” King stood and paced the tiny bathroom in circles. “You know I wanted to be the one to explain things to him!”
“What did you want me to do, Xander? He saw the video. He’d been calling Dbie and myself all day. He left his post in Toronto even though he thought you were still dead. Just to go and kill the people who he thought were tarnishing his closest friend’s name.”
King was angry, but not at Sam. He was mad at himself. He knew he should have approached Kyle long ago, but he didn’t. He was afraid to open his relationship back up to Kyle because he knew he would never see him. King was supposed to be dead, and Kyle had his own assignments. But now he knew it had been a mistake to wait.
“He’s pissed, isn’t he?” King said. His voice was calm.
“He is. With you, me, and apparently the world.”
“Damn, I should have—”
“Xander, I have to go,” Sam interrupted. “He just got on the plane. We’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
King’s emotions were swirling. A lot was going on at the same time. But one thing a good operator does about as well as anything is compartmentalize. He started the day compartmentalizing his feelings about Cali leaving—burying them until he knew he could see her again. Now he had to avoid thinking about being reunited with a friend he’d kept a terrible secret from. A painful secret, for his friend. But that had to get buried, too, because he was about to have people’s lives in his hands, and you can’t be of a split mind when bullets are flying.
Either way, he was glad Sam and Kyle were on their way. They made the chances for success jump dramatically in the good guys’ favor. And he couldn’t wait to give his old friend a big bear hug. That is, if he would accept it.
21
Sam ended the call and stood to greet Kyle. He had just entered the plane, and the stewardess stopped him to ask a question. His short, dark hair was a bit of a mess. His square jaw seemed even more jagged than the last time she’d seen him. He had always been in great shape, but his 6’3” frame now seemed even more lean.
When Kyle caught her eye, his usual elated smile when he saw her was instead a disappointed dip of the head. Sam lowered her outstretched arms and took her seat.
“I’d say nice to see you,” Sam said, “but it’s clear that sentiment won’t be returned.”
Kyle placed his messenger bag beneath the seat in front of him, sat back, and let out a deep sigh. He smiled at the stewardess who was bringing him an airplane bottle of bourbon.
“Thank you,” Kyle told her. “Don’t run off too far, okay?”
The blue-eyed brunette batted her eyebrows and flashed a million-dollar smile. Then she craned her neck all around the plane. “Not too many places to hide. I’m sure you’ll find me.”
Kyle winked.
The stewardess giggled.
“I see you haven’t changed a bit,” Sam said, unable to bite her tongue.
“Don’t.” Kyle sipped his bourbon. “We’re not friends right now.”
“That’s mature. All right then, what are we?”
“Colleagues.” His tone was flat. His eyes were watching the United logo animate on the headrest television.
“I understand you’re upset, Kyle. You have every right to be. But—”
“No buts necessary,” Kyle said, turning toward her. “You can just leave it at I ‘have every right to be.’ Then just leave me alone.”
“Fine. Just want you to know I spoke with X right before you boarded. He’s safe . . . for now.”
Kyle faced forward again; he didn’t comment. It was ten minutes past the designated time to shut the cabin door. Sam thought it was the stewardess helping her out by stalling, but it should have been shut immediately after Kyle boarded. Sam hoped there wasn’t any mechanical issues. The last thing she needed was for the plane to be delayed. One reason was she knew the CIA would be watching; the other was Xander couldn’t afford her and Kyle arriving late.
As two men in black suits stepped onto the plane, she knew instantly it was the first of her concerns that was going to keep her and Kyle from getting to Xander on time.
“Damn it,” Sam said.
Kyle’s head swiveled toward her; then he followed her eyes to the front of the plane.
“Did you tell anyone you were coming here?” Sam said. “To DC?”
“No. I’m assuming those two are here for us?”
“How did they find me so quickly?”
“So that’s a yes?” Kyle said.
Then the two men stepped forward to the second row. The first man with a military-style buzz cut looked straight at Sam as he held out an FBI credential.
“Samantha Harrison?”
“Sorry, you’re mistaken. I’m Beverly Tanner. Guess I just have one of those faces.”
“Ms. Harrison, you’re coming with us.”
The man reached forward, but Kyle slapped away his arm. “The lady said her name was Tanner. Move on, fellas.”
The man pulled back his sport coat to reveal a pistol tucked inside his shoulder holster. “Okay then, smart guy, both of you are coming with us.”
Kyle started to rise to his feet in protest, but Sam placed her hand on his arm. Her processor worked fast. She knew Kyle was going to show his CIA credentials to let the men know they had no authority over him, but she also knew it wouldn’t matter. Not because they were FBI, but because the pistol in the man’s holster was a Beretta. The FBI had been issuing Glocks as their standard pistol since 2016. There was a chance it could be the man’s personal sidearm that he carries as a backup, but that nuance coupled with the way his partner’s eyes kept jumping all around the plane in a nervous twitch, Sam could feel something was off.
“All right, we’ll come along,” Sam said.
Kyle’s expression turned to shock.
Sam knew if she fought the men on going with them, they wouldn’t be afraid to pull their weapons and shoot right there. And while they may not hit Sam or Kyle, someone else would surely be injured or worse, in these tight quarters. Though exiting the plane was the last thing she wanted to do, she knew there was no other option. Either way, she and Kyle weren’t leaving on that plane, whether she fought them in the aisle or not. Everyone on the plane would be detained if there was a violent incident.
“Sam, they—”
“They caught us, Kyle. Let’s just go and take our medicine.”
Kyle’s face brightened. He knew Sam would never surrender. She always knew Kyle’s processor was a few bits slower than her own. Kyle fell in line, and the two men actually smiled when Sam and Kyle didn’t put up a fight. Also not something common of an agent. Sam just hoped these two were the only ones at the airport who had come for them. But she figured that wouldn’t be the case. Men like these ran in packs.
Sam reached down for her bag and simultaneously hit the CALL button on her phone as she slid it into her pocket. It would dial the last number she spoke to.
Alexander King.
The two men ushered them out in front, and as Sam walked behind Kyle toward the door, there were two more men waiting in the jetway. Absolutely terrible news. She didn’t know who they were or whom they worked for, but she knew they weren’t going to be taking them to FBI headquarters, and definitely not back to Langley. The question wasn’t if she and Kyle were going to have to fight to get away from these men, but when.
Either way, they weren’t going to be in Mexico City any time soon.
22
King walked back out into the living area of José’s small apartment. José was pointing to something on a map.
“Sorry for the delay,” King said. “Had to take a call. You boys get everything worked out?”
José moved his finger on the map. “Here is where Ortega is for the night. He keeps a suite at the St. Regis when he believes his properties could be compromised.” He looked up at King. “Since you are still on the loose, he’s playing it safe here. He will have maybe four men inside the suite with him. Two in a vehicle in the parking lot watching the front door, and of course a literal army that could be dispatched in minutes.”
“So basically it’s suicide,” Lawson said.
“Let’s look at this from another angle,” King said. “Lawson, you obviously are only here for revenge. You have no other motivation.”
Lawson shrugged.
“José, I’m assuming you just want to finish what you started and bring an end to your long undercover mission.”
José nodded. “Basically, yeah.”
“And my motivation is to clear my name,” King said. Then he held up his hand to Lawson who was about to speak. “I also want to stop Ortega from being able to do this to other girls, Lawson. As José knows, I’ve laid my life on the line before to stop a human trafficker. My point is, the two of you can just walk away, and should. No one knows you’re involved, and it is not worth risking your life for this today. We are too outnumbered, and we don’t have any other sort of advantage in the situation that can help us win.”
“We know where Ortega is,” Lawson said. “That isn’t an advantage?”
King looked at José. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’d be willing to bet it wouldn’t have been that hard to find out he’s at the St. Regis even if we didn’t have you, José, am I right?”
José looked at Lawson. “He’s not wrong.”
“And you said you have a daughter, right?” King took a couple of steps toward Lawson.
“Yes, but I can’t let this monster get away with killing Brittany. I can’t have my daughter ask me what I did about her babysitter’s death and tell her I could have stepped in, but did nothing.”
“Better than a couple of police officers showing up at your door to tell your daughter that you’re dead.”
Lawson put his hands on his hips, but he didn’t have anything to say. It was hard to argue with the ugly truth.
“I’ve been thinking,” King said. “Even though I have two more top-notch agents coming to help us, it’s not enough. Years ago I would have run headfirst into this thing—endangering everyone with my recklessness. But boys, this is a raid fit for a full-on military team—not for a few people who have never worked together before—no matter how skilled we are individually.”
“So what are you saying, X?” José said, putting his hands on his hips. “We just quit?”
“No, I’m saying we use our heads instead of our hearts. Trust me, it’s not something I’m used to.”
“So, what then?” Lawson said. “If we don’t take out Ortega, how do any of us get what we want?”
King looked at José. “What was the name of the guy you said was making the fake videos of me?”
“Manuel. Manuel Cortez.”
“Does he have an army protecting him?” King said.
“No,” José said.
“Then we start with him.”
“You want the tech guy?” José said.
“No,” Lawson answered for King. “He wants the tech guy’s computer.”
King made a gun with his hand and shot a “correct” air bullet at Lawson.
“I get how that helps you, King,” Lawson said. “You find evidence of faking the videos of you on the computer of one of Ortega’s men, and the CIA backs off of you. But what about Brittany?” Lawson looked at José. “And wouldn’t that leave José here in the wind?”
“Getting the computer is just the first step,” King said. “How do you eat an elephant?”
“What?” José said.
“Seriously?” Lawson wasn’t amused.
“I know, it seems silly,” King said. “But it’s true here. We can’t take Ortega all at once. It has to be—”
“One bite at a time,” José said.
“Glad you caught up there,” Lawson said as he gave him a pat on the shoulder.
José shrugged. “I don’t like it. I say we hit Ortega while he is in a soft zone at the hotel. The rest will be easy.”
“I disagree,” Lawson said. “King’s right.”
“Right about what? It being dangerous?” José said. “Well, no shit. You don’t think it’s dangerous being an undercover agent with these guys? My entire life is danger.”
“Who do you think you’re talking to?” King said. He didn’t like how much pushback he was getting from José. He understood it—the man’s life was hanging in the balance—but he didn’t like it.
“Look,” Lawson said, turning to José, “I don’t have the military experience you have, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen my share of tight spots. And from the sounds of it, King here and I have a lot in common. I used to storm the castle too soon too. Almost got myself, my partner, and my daughter killed in the process. I want Ortega for what he did to a sweet girl, but I don’t want to leave my daughter without a father.”
