Chapter 13

The Mexican detective’s gold badge lay on the table before him, the dim light gleaming off its smooth polished surface.

“Answer the question Mister F.B.I.” The detective spoke with his hands balled up in fists on the dirty wooden table before him.

Aaron shifted in his seat and touched the back of his head where it still ached from being struck earlier.

“I already told you. It’s my girlfriend. We fought. She was leaving me.” He didn’t hide his desperation, hoping it would convince them of his made-up story. He leaned forward, pulling against the chains that held his cuffed wrist tethered to the metal table. “Are these really necessary?”

The detective smiled wickedly. “You tell me? Are you going to try and assault my comrades again?”

Aarons’ eyes shifted to the guard standing in the corner of the room, the bridge of his nose swollen and bloody. “I apologized for that. You know how it is?” His lip curled into a twisted smirk, “When you love a woman, you’d do anything. I was desperate. I love her…”

“And the earpiece we confiscated, the Federal Government has time to assist with angry girlfriend issues now?”

A knock came at the door. The detective stood staring at Aaron without a hint of sympathy. He knew Aaron was lying. Aaron watched the detective head to the door. It was painted an ugly green. Flecks of paint had been chipped away; it looked like it had endured the brunt of much violence. Its hard surface had kinks and deep scratches. His eyes roamed over the tiled walls, which despite some lazy attempt at cleaning, traces of blood stains stubbornly remained in the grout, standing as testimony to some of the more brutal interrogations that had gone on in the room. These guys didn’t mess around. Aaron swallowed against the thought. He was tough but being tortured was not how he imagined his day starting.

The detective spoke quietly with someone at the door and then signaled to the guard who with a grimace took position, standing in front of Aaron with his legs spread and his lip snarled.

Aaron heard the door click closed, sealing him inside. It wouldn’t surprise him if he got a beating in the next few minutes. Maybe that had been the point of the detective leaving. A convenient, off-record bit of intimidation.

Aaron’s eyes studied every inch of the stressed looking interrogation room. He needed to get out. Hours spent in lock-up were hours wasted. Aaron bowed his head to his bound wrist, pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. He was inspecting the cuffs and strength of the chain.

A bang came at the door and the guard grunted with irritation, heading over to open it. Aaron took this small moment and with quick finger work and one old, wounded thumb, he managed to slip one of his wrists out and then the other. Like everything here, it was tired and cheap. That and the endless weeks spent at Magicians’ Camp as a kid had given him the easy skill set for escape that he needed.

The detective re-entered, announcing, “Your Captain…” before sitting down in front of him and glaring.

It took a second for Aaron to fully comprehend what the detective was saying and was still focused on the idea he would be needing to fight his way out. He glanced back in the direction of the new figure who had entered the space.

“Bryce! How did you…”

Bryce’s pasty face was darkened by a scowl, and it was clear he was more than a little pissed at being dragged into the situation. Suddenly, the detective noted Aaron was free from his cuffs and his anger swelled.

“How did this happen? Where you about to…” the detective looked to his guard with a look of thunder. Aaron let Bryce grab him by the shoulder and pull him to his feet. As he stood back, he couldn’t resist the look of arrogance and relief flashing in his eyes.

The detective was furious, and they needed to get out as soon as they could.

“Just get your agent and leave before I change my mind,” the detective snarled.

Aaron followed Bryce out into the corridor, unable to resist giving the detective and guard a wink. As they walked through the office, another senior officer stood with his arms crossed, clearly not happy.

As they passed, Bryce turned and growled, “I’ll ignore the shape you left my agent in.”

The officer pressed his lips together and sighed. Clearly there was some history between the two of them and Aaron didn’t miss the implication that Aaron’s misconduct should be forgotten in return for his department not pressing charges for police brutality.

Once clear of the station, Bryce stated with anger, “Your arrogance is going to get you killed.”

“Death by arrogance sounds like a fine way to go,” Aaron muttered.

His comment earned him a rough push against the SUV as Bryce took his collars. “And how does Makayla’s death sound to you, Aaron? Does it sound as good as Heather’s?”

Aaron’s stomach lurched but there was no fight in him. Bryce’s comments had punched him out as sure as a blow. Bryce dropped him when he saw a group of officers staring in their direction. Looks of disgust and disbelief were circulating among them and Bryce knew they needed to get out. They weren’t in the clear yet.

“We need to go back to the drop off zone,” Aaron said, recovering his feet and attitude.

Bryce shot him a look as he opened the passenger door and climbed in. “What does my badge say, Jarvis?” he asked the figure waiting in the driving seat.

“Captain,” Jarvis replied with a hint of confusion.

“That’s right. See, Agent Anderson - Jarvis gets it.”

Aaron flopped into the back seat, sulkily. Jarvis turned and greeted him with a mocking smile. “That’s means our Captain has already…”

“Jarvis!” Bryce warned. “Shut it and buckle up.”

“Yes, Captain,” he replied, adding extra emphasis to the word Captain.

Jarvis steered the car around a series of corners and onto the main road leading out of town. “You look spectacular,” Jarvis mocked as his eyes caught Aaron’s bruised face in the rearview mirror.

There was awkward silence that filled in the space of the SUV, and Aaron felt the need to say something. “Thank you for saving my ass back there, Captain.”

The captain sniffed. “Now we’re even.”

Aaron smiled. “I’ll let you know when we are even, Sir,” he said, chuckling.

Jarvis added. “Yeah Captain, after the Memphis incident….” A glare from Bryce warned him to be quiet but he continued anyway, “you know, when he caught that grenade…And he took full responsibility for all the damages caused…”

And that was why Aaron got away with stuff, because ultimately, he was a hero; one who got the job done and who had saved far more lives than he’d lost.

“If I remember correctly, Agent Jarvis,” Bryce said with an edge, “those damages were entirely his doing anyway.” Jarvis cocked his head to the side and looked at Bryce with challenge. They all know Bryce had given the nod that lead to the damages of that building.

Bryce unpacked the duffle bag at his feet saying, “Both of you kit up.

He then pulled out a tablet and passed it over to Aaron in the backseat.

“Our drone caught these images last night.” He shoved the tablet into Aaron’s hands.

“There’s a girl trying to escape and a man running after her. He snatched her up and hauled her back into that building.”

Aaron studied the pictures and Jarvis explained, “It wasn’t exactly a violent interaction. He just picked her up when she fell down. It could stand to argue that she was either intoxicated or drugged from the little resistance she put up.”

The captain nodded. “Hardly enough for a warrant, but then a series of calls came in during the following hours; concern that daughters and girlfriends had gone missing, who like Makayla and your unsanctioned guest, attended the party last night. Of course, the local police have that forty-eight-hour bullshit policy.

“Can you believe what the Sheriff said?”

“Perhaps there was an after party somewhere,” Jarvis mocked.

“An after-party? Where exactly?” Aarons’ pitch rose “We are in the middle of the desert for Christ’s sake. And what about Makayla’s tracker, which had her at the border…”

Bryce turned and rose his eyebrows, admonishing Aaron for using the Lord’s name in vein.

“Sorry, Captain,” he grumbled.

“Our connection at the DA’s office got us the warrant we needed.”

Bryce and Aaron shared a look, by connection their captain meant Bryce’s ex-wives. One was a judge and the other the DA herself.

“Well we can’t argue your marriages were total losses to us, Sir.” Aaron handed the tablet back over to The Captain.

Aaron took the warrant from the captain and shook his head approvingly. “This is good.”

“Now Jarvis, Anderson, you comb that place like a mother combs her pre-school kid’s hair for lice. I want agent Makayla McKenzie,” he paused and spoke through the grind of his teeth, “and the civilian you two pulled in with her, back. You understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” they answered simultaneously.

“I won’t let this ruin my application for Sergeant. Hillary will have my head for this.”

Hillary was Bryce’s current fiancé, his third attempt at eternal love. And taken his age, Aaron hoped Bryce would finally get what he truly deserved.

Bryce checked his holster straps then proceeded to double and triple check his gun. From the duffle bag he snatched up an ankle blade and strapped it on beneath his pant leg. When he came back up he added,

“Should either of you find something solid, we can procure more satellite images of last night’s events. It might allow us to see their exit roots.” Bryce pulled on his holster as he placed his gun. “Let’s find out how these guys operate, once and for all.”

Aaron’s eyes caught the captain’s in the side mirror. To both of them, this case was very personal. They had suspected for a long time that Aaron’s fiancé Heather had fallen victim to the very crime ring they were chasing. And they both would be damned if they lost another loved one to these assholes.

The engine was a soothing constant roar as they barreled down the freeway towards Fiesta square. Aaron and the Captain were both combing through maps of the structures that made up the tourist spot.

Aaron turned the page sideways and studied it. “These seem inaccurate.”

“How so?” Jarvis asked.

“Are these the latest plans?”

Bryce shot him a look.

“Sorry, Sir, I’m not insulting your work.” He blew air out through his flaring nostrils in frustration. Then Aaron pointed his finger on a spot of the large map where the entire Fiesta Square is located.

“It looked so much bigger.” He took a moment. “There are more streets, and up on the hill, I could make out a bigger structure, which isn’t indicated here.”

Bryce pulled the map closer to him.

“There was a huge structure on this hill, lights illuminated the white walls,” Aaron continued to explain. “It could be seen from both directions of the main road that cut through the town.” Aaron pointed to the spot on the town map. A church?” He pulled a face. “It’s not right,” he said, shaking his head.

The captain turned around and handed him the tablet. “Satellite image over the Fiesta square—taken only a month ago.”

“A church!” Aaron said, dumfounded. He was sure he had seen something like a mansion in that exact location. He stared out into the desert surrounds. The shine of the chrome rims of the SUV illuminated the strangled weeds on the side of the road. In the rearview mirror, Aaron studied the captain’s expression as he pulled together his thick dark brows, almost creating a knot in the middle of his forehead.

It was obvious the captain felt it, too. Something about this entire set up seemed off. Then Aaron caught a glimpse of two sets of headlights in the reflection of the rearview mirror. He turned slightly in his seat and Bryce followed suit.

“Back up has arrived,” the captain said.

Aaron smiled.

“Well, Anderson, you shouldn’t be surprised. You know how seriously we take one of our own being in danger,” Jarvis added.

Aaron thought to himself how animated Jarvis seemed when in person, but the thought was cut off by the pang in his chest. Subconsciously, his thumb felt over the thick scar that ran like a massive C letter, stretching from his wrist and over the cushioned area of his thumb. Indeed, he knew what lengths agents would go to save one of their own. He recalled the grenade that almost took off his thumb during retrieval of one of their agent’s four years ago in Memphis. He’d hit a grenade away from the captain’s face with his bare hand. For the main, he blocked the events of that damned evening out of his head. It had been the night his first partner had died. In saving one life, it had ended another. But that was in the past. All that mattered now was the present. And Makayla and Dannie were the present.

“Suite up, Jarvis,” the Captain instructed.

Jarvis nodded, and shifted in his seat, undoing his seatbelt while the captain handed him the Kevlar vest. The Captain held the steering wheel while Jarvis slipped the one half of his body in. He took the wheel again, and Bryce leaned over to fasten the straps for him. Jarvis gasped as his captain pulled it too tight. In the back, Aaron was methodically unpacking his kitbag. With all his equipment lined up on the back seat next to him, he closed his eyes and said a silent prayer, before suiting up himself.

The closer they got to town, the further apart the distance between the vehicles in the precession became. Their SUV turned off into a dirt road just before Fiesta Square. After another turn-off, past some old Spanish styled houses, they hit the cobble-stone main road where a few cars remained parked on a corner of an old motel. From one of the cars, music blared and drinks flowed out from the trunk.

“The after party,” Jarvis joked drily as they passed.

Aaron watched the other SUV that had followed them, pass them and turn into a side road in the other direction. He knew the raid strategies well by now—given the size of Fiesta Square, they would have the establishment surrounded in under two minutes.

In tall shadows of bigger buildings, Aaron could see the lanterns still burning, a few cars scattered along both sides of the road. It was nearly six in the morning, with daybreak quickly burning away at the shadows. They passed a newly built motel on the left, where many girls and a few guys were still eagerly partying in the small lobby area. Aaron noted that this too didn’t show on the map or recent satellite images. The barricades that formed the entire area last night had already been removed.

The sound of the SUV’s wheels over the cobblestones sang through the streets. Papers flew up, and lanterns swung back and forth, some popping as they hit the walls of the shops as the SUV hastily sped past. Chairs and tables that had remained in the road, got knocked over causing a lonely cleaning lady to throw her broom to the floor and run in the other direction. They had to move in quickly before the morning broke with tourists and workers.

“Watch the paint job Jarvis, it’s a new car,” Bryce warned.

The white walls of the large building on the hill gleamed as the early morning desert sun hit it, causing the captain to put on his shades to protect his eyes from the glare. The SUV came to a drifting stop, the two agents and their captain pulling their weapons from their holsters.

“Ready?” Bryce held his gun to his side as he opened the door.

Both agents nodded, their feet already out the door.

“That’s definitely not a church,” the captain said, glancing at Aaron. “You were right, agent.”

“Yes, I was, Sir,” Aaron agreed humbly.

Bryce, Aaron and the Captain rushed toward a shiny silver metal gate in the middle of a long and tall white wall that wrapped around the structure. From either side, both the other SUVs carrying the rest of the team members stopped beside them. Agents, all in black, streamed out like ants running from a flooded ant hill. The Captain signaled for Jarvis and Aaron to enter the gate; Aaron was surprised to find it unlocked.

They entered silently, Bryce behind Jarvis who followed Aaron. All three lined up against the wall, they looked up at an imposing set of white stairs, which led to another level where a sparkling blue pool was framed by a row of palm trees. The place was eerily free of any after party detritus. There was no evidence at all, glasses, drinks, clothes, or litter. So far it seemed pristine - as quiet as a ghost town. The only thing that was a dead giveaway that this place indeed was not a ghost town, was the lack of dust that usually accumulates should a place be empty for a certain amount of time.

Aaron signaled to Jarvis to follow him up the stairs. The grass had signs of disturbance and flowers had been trampled. The impressive floor to ceiling glass doors had smudges all over their tinted surface, but it also seemed like someone had tried to wipe its surface in a hurry to hide prints, leaving large streaks behind.

The three of them proceeded inside, where white couches stood at odd positions as if they’d been shoved aside in a hurry. One table lay overturned, but other than that, it too was eerily silent. It was like no one had been there the all of last night.

The rest of the team followed in, splitting in two different directions, covering the ground floor in seconds. Bryce and Aaron entered a room that was separated from the main lounge area. A thick white and golden curtain hung oddly in the center. Bryce cocked his head and Jarvis pulled back the curtain as Aaron pointed the gun.

“A DJ table,” Jarvis said in the anti-climax.

Bryce searched the rest of the room.

“Why would this room with the DJ table be off to one side?” Aaron noted.

Entering the square room, he searched along the back wall, kneeled down before the white glossy table where the DJ equipment was stacked. He found three switches hidden beneath the table. Aaron flicked one on, and the back wall lights came on. Switch two—nothing, or so he thought until Jarvis yelled,

“Off, put it off,” followed by a violent cough. “Gas, you dumb ass.”

“What?” Aaron jumped up from beneath the table.

“Get out!” Jarvis demanded.

Jarvis dropped to his knees as soon as they cleared the room.

“You okay?” Aaron crouched down beside him. “Seems like it was sleeping gas.”

Jarvis fell to his back and took deep breathes.

“Potent, by the looks of it,” he said, slapping Jarvis on the arm. “You just lie here while I inspect the rest of the place,” he added with a smile. “I’ll send Bryce to look out for you.”

As Aaron went into the kitchen, he heard the captain shouting from the other room.

“There’s no alcohol in these drinks.”

The captain came into the kitchen, holding out a tray of drinks to Aaron with gloved hands. “All of these glasses,” he took another and smelled it, “every glass, is free of alcohol.”

“I found the pantry,” another agent shouted.

Both the Captain and Aaron followed the voice. They opened the silver door that held a cooler room. Bottles of champagne lined one wall, all of which were covered in dust. A few empty bottles were stacked on the floor at the door.

“I don’t know about you Captain, but this is the coolest church I’ve ever been in.” Aaron shrugged when the captain just gave him a nasty glare.

The captain picked a bottle off the shelf. “These have alcohol, and they’re old. Vintage.” He murmured.

Aaron picked up one of the empty bottles from the floor labeled, “Alcohol free,” He held it to the light. “Looks like whoever handled these bottles wore gloves.”

“No prints?” Bryce stood beside him staring up at the dark glass bottle.

“Not that I can see.” Aaron pulled a face.

“It’s all clear, Sir,” a voice came from behind them.

The captain clicked his tongue and snapped at the agent who had just entered. “Did you find anything useful?”

The agent shook his head. “No trace of any crime,” he added flatly.

Aaron stepped past the captain and the agent. “Beside the gas you mean.”

Bryce shot Aaron a look.

“That reminds me someone should check on Jarvis, we found a switch in the DJ room that triggered some kind of knock out gas.”

“Well, what you standing around for Agent? Follow Anderson and get CSI up here to test that gas.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“Bag those glasses,” the captain demanded of one of his agents who was scouring the kitchen area for more evidence.

“Get fingerprints off those doors, the table, whatever you can. And now!” Bryce shouted to no one in particular.

“And the DJ box,” Aaron added to another agent passing by.

An agent came over to Bryce, who was standing with his arms crossed, looking hacked off. His eyes glaring at the lack of evidence.

An agent spoke. “There are no bedrooms, Sir.”

The captain half-tuned in the agent’s direction.

“I found change rooms,” he continued, “and a unisex bathroom but there’s no evidence of that being in use either.”

Aaron pushed passed going back into the large reception room, to find Jarvis sitting propped-up with an oxygen mask over his face, giving Aaron a thumbs up.

The captain swore as he stood beside Aaron, asking another passing team member, “What did your sweep of outside come up with?”

The agent looked disappointed. “Nothing spectacular, Sir.”

Aaron stood, narrowing his eyes on the interior structure of the house. “Is there a loading dock?” he asked the agent.

“No, Sir.”

The Captain pinched the skin between his brows. “So how do they get a dozen or so girls out of a buzzing party without anyone noticing?”

Aaron left the room and let Bryce go through the motions on his own. He knew his process well, and space was often what was needed most in a difficult case like this. When everyone had cleared the reception area, he went back into the DJ box—which was literally a box with three walls and a curtain. He then flipped the third switch, prepared to cut it immediately at the first sign of anything sinister. At first there was nothing but then a slight rumble accompanied a vibration as the curtains closed before him, creating a cocoon. When he turned around, the stark white wall with the blue and red downlights, which had been there before, was now gone.

Using his torch, he followed into a smaller dark room and found it empty except for the smell of perfume and girls’ cosmetics, which still clung to the musty air.

“Jarvis!” he called out. When Jarvis didn’t come, he headed back, flicked the switch so that the wall moved back into position and pulled back the curtain, calling for him again. Jarvis would want to see this, medically unfit or not.

Jarvis ambled across, shaking his head as if to clear it of the last bits of gas. Aaron flicked the switch and watched the wall move away.

“Holy shit!” he said, clearing his voice, seeing Aaron on his knees at the DJ box. “What is this?”

Aaron shot him a pointed look.

“Holy Crap! That is neat!” Jarvis said, wiping down his forehead with his sleeve.

“What are the other switches for?”

Aaron got to his feet and shook his head. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He shoved Jarvis’s hand away from the switches. “You want to be gassed again?”

“What?” Jarvis looked really confused.

“Nothing.” Aaron pulled him along, already taking note that the gas had someone erased the last few moments of Jarvis’s memory.

“Now, follow me.” Aaron shone the light into the dark room past the wall that had retreated. “Notice anything?”

“Nothing,” Jarvis said with his hands on his hips, appreciating the engineering and thought that went into such a space.

“Exactly, Jarvis. Shout something at me.”

“Pardon?”

“SHOUT SOMETHING!” Aaron said, roaring into the space. Jarvis looked at him like he’d gone mad. “Didn’t you notice there’s no echo? Sound stops dead.”

He walked over to the walls, gliding his hand over the surface. “It’s like rock absorbing the sound. It’s soundproof.” He cleared his throat. “And it smells like coco-butter and cheap perfume in here.”

“You think this is where they hold the girls?” Jarvis said, finally catching up.

Aaron nodded. “Makes sense. About the only thing that does.”

From behind them, Bryce’s voice cut in. “So, do they hold the girls here until the party is clear and then transport them out?”

Aaron studied the captain as he came closer. “It seems too much trouble.”

Aaron paced the room in deep thought.

“They’d be knocked out from the gas… herded into here, and then getting the girls out …?” He stopped in his tracks, having heard a slight change in sound. Jarvis and the Captain watched bemused as Aaron began stomping the ground with one foot.

“You found something.” the Captain stated.

“What? Is it a false floor? Trap door?’ Jarvis asked, unable to hide the growing wonder in his voice.

This was exactly the kind of thing that really turned him on. There was definitely a hollow noise under foot. All three shone their torches over the floor, until they finally picked up on a square of the tiled floor that had slightly thicker spacing than the rest of the large tiles. They headed to the corner of the room.

“I don’t think anyone else would have caught this.” The beams of his light swept the outline of the square.

“This is real good craftsmanship; a seriously professional job.”

“It’s flash concrete Sir.” Aaron added, “There are only a few places that sell this product.”

Bryce agreed with a nod.

“Sir, those plans of the area, they…” Jarvis began.

“I know,” Bryce agreed. “Someone must have gotten to the city planner. They assured us those were the most recent blueprints of the town.” He looked around, deep in thought. “Clearly someone didn’t want these house plans on record.”

Jarvis nodded. “And seemingly, no permits filed. This is such a large project it wouldn’t go unnoticed by the city officials. It’s a small town, which leads us to….”

“Major corruption shit!” Aaron snarled. The realization as to the level of danger Makayla and Dannie were in was beginning to surface. It had been a dangerous enough case before, but if local government were involved, the danger level had just skyrocketed.

In the distance, they heard someone calling for the Captain.

“In here!” Jarvis shouted, but noticing how his voice fell flat in the room, he left to go and find the agent himself.

Bryce and Aaron stood - struck silently by the fact that they many never find their Agent, or her friend. Jarvis walked into the room with an agent tagging behind him.

“The outside perimeter is clean Sir,” the agent informed.

Bryce took a step toward him. “Define clean.”

He stared him down and the agent shuffled his feet nervously. “We found no loading docks, no back exits, no tracks, human or otherwise. There was nothing further up the hill either.”

The captain and Aaron both stared at each other before their eyes fell to the trapdoor at their feet. They’d heard of something like this before and had started to suspect, that with the right power and financing, this operation could be a lot slicker than first thought.

“We’re pretty damned close to the border, Sir,” Aaron said.

The Captain nodded. “That we are. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Jarvis searched their faces. “Someone care to enlighten the rest of us?”

“This close to the border, the area would be abundant with underground tunnels and caves.”

“Get this trap door open, now!” Bryce insisted and he stalked off getting his phone out of his pocket to call it in.

“Satellite images won’t help us here, if they had given us poor intel before, I can’t trust anything.” Then he kicked something hard across the shiny floors.

“This is all going to shit!” Bryce snarled.