Colorado Flames WIth A Texas Twist (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

The assassin made it to the buildings and looked back once. His face was covered, his head too. To Mike, he looked like a military operative, but he had no idea if the guy was American or Brazilian. The assassin stilled for a second then turned left disappearing from view. Mike didn’t slow, hoping he’d be able to keep up with the guy once he hit the city streets.

The final few hundred yards racing down the hill was little more than controlled falling. When he finally hit pavement, he almost lost it as he scrambled on the gravel and asphalt mix. He still didn’t look back, hoping that whoever was following was competent and wouldn’t shoot to kill.

Mike rounded the building and turned to the left, following behind the assassin. Up ahead he thought he saw the guy, but he wasn’t sure. The sidewalk was filled with people milling about, moving slowly in the heat. He wanted to tell them to hurry, pushing them out of the way, but he was the foreigner and these people probably wouldn’t listen. Plus he wouldn’t accomplish anything other than drawing attention to himself.

The crowd thinned, and he made out the assassin about eight hundred yards ahead of him. Unless he took off running, he’d never catch up to the guy. The sidewalk was packed, so he took to the street, racing ahead of the crowd. It would have been impossible to run through the streets if he were in the middle of Rio, but out here in the suburbs, the traffic was less. A few cars honked, but he made progress.

The assassin glanced back and saw him approaching. He ran across the street and disappeared between buildings. Mike raced toward the alley, praying he could catch the bastard. A motorcycle roared past behind him, almost clipping him. He yelled and shook his fist before running down the alley.

No one was there. He’d lost the guy.

“Fuck!”

Mike raced ahead anyway, looking both left and right when he came to the next road. He saw a bunch of people, most of them dark skinned and probably Brazilians. One white guy in a baseball cap stood out amongst the crowd. The guy wasn’t carrying a bag, didn’t have on a black jacket like his assassin, but Mike had a feeling.

A motorcycle raced past and stopped at a bench across the street. The guy on the motorcycle picked up a pack and raced away. Mike stood still and stared at the guy on the bike. Three more motorcycles, all looking similar to the first guy raced past. He could call in the guy on the motorcycle, but he had no evidence and he didn’t have any plate numbers. There were thousands of people on motorcycles like that one in this city. Whoever was running the operation that assassinated Ruiz was good.

“What the fuck is happening?” Mike said to himself and turned to follow the white guy in the baseball cap. The man wasn’t walking fast but he was the closest thing Mike had to a lead. He should call for backup, but what the fuck would they do? His men and Alexsandro’s guys were going through Ruiz’s information and shutting him down. They’d stop all ships carrying his products, turning the information over to other governments, hoping to get convictions on others operating in Ruiz’s network.

Mike couldn’t believe that Ruiz was dead. He didn’t know if the second and third in command were dead, but he was sure they’d been in the group that had been ambushed today.

The white guy stopped at a street vendor and ordered food. If he were the assassin, would he stop and eat? Mike moved to the vendor and stood behind the guy in the baseball cap, reading off the menu. The guy in the cap stepped back and ran into him.

“Oh, desculpe. Eu não tive a intenção de bater em você.” The words came out hesitantly and with a very bad accent.

Mike smiled at the guy, trying to judge his reaction. He didn’t look overly excited or afraid. “That’s okay. You speak English, right?”

“Yeah, is my Portuguese that bad? I worked so hard to get it right, but they say that full immersion is the only way to learn.”

Mike nodded
and studied the guy. He wasn’t an assassin, that much Mike was sure of. H
e realized he was wasting his time. The guy’s order was up, and he took the bag of food, smiling at Mike before he turned to leave. Baseball cap guy turned back, his blue eyes looked striking against his dark brown hair and tanned skin.

“Are you alone in your travels?”

“No, I have a group I’m—”

A car screeched to a halt in front of them and Mike spun around. Two guys with automatic guns exited the car, aiming right at him. Mike jumped behind the vendor, pulling the American with him. The bag of food was forgotten as gunfire erupted. He pulled out his Glock and aimed. He didn’t have enough firepower against the men on the street. Sirens could be heard in the distance but he didn’t know if they’d arrive soon enough.

Now that they were under fire and no one from their team had approached, he had to wonder if the guy following him had been one of Ruiz’s men. He leaned out and took a shot, hitting the glass in the windshield of the car.

“Fuck.”

They started firing again and one of the bullets skimmed underneath the food cart and caught him on the leg. He cried out in pain and dropped his Glock. The American reached for his gun then grabbed Mike under the arms, carrying him into a shop and through the building to the back. He kicked open a door and they were in the alley.

“When will your team catch up with you?” the American asked.

“What?” Mike was confused as pain spread through him.

“Don’t give me that. Are they closing in on you?”

“Huh?”

“Fuck, give me your phone.” The American searched his pockets, coming up with his phone. He pressed redial and put the device to his ear.

Mike felt lightheaded as blood pumped from his leg. The American used a knife to cut his pants as he shouldered the phone.

“Shit, you’re bleeding a lot.” Zander couldn’t believe they’d been ambushed. This mission had gone to hell. Why hadn’t they known the government was going to do their raid a day early?

Someone answered on the other end. “Hello?” The voice was tinged with an accent.

“Hey, I’ve got...” Zander searched the front pocket of the guy’s jacket and pulled out an ID. “I’ve got Mike Jarred. He’s been shot. It’s a through and through on his calf. I’m doing triage, and he should survive. The police are out front. If you have any say in your government, have them come back here cautiously. Mike needs an ambulance.”

“Who is this?”

“Nobody.” Zander hung up and wiped Mike’s phone clean. “Okay, mister DEA agent, here’s your phone back.” Zander cut the pants leg into a strip and tied it around Mike’s wound, wrapping another around to help stem the flow of blood. The fast pop and thunder of gunfire could still be heard from the front of the store.

“Who are you?” Mike asked.

“No one. Forget I exist.”

“You’re the one,” Mike mumbled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Zander hoped Mike was impaired enough not to notice what he really looked like. Next, Zander wiped down Mike’s wallet and placed it back in his pocket.

“Why?”

“There are people bigger than you and me in this world, Mr. Jarred. We all have our assignments.”

The gunfire stopped out front and cheers went up. He probably only had a few seconds before the police came through the door. This wasn’t the time to get into a philosophical discussion with a DEA agent on the legality of his job.

“Be safe,” Zander said.

“Wait,” Mike called out.

Zander still had Mike’s gun and it was too late to go back and give it to him. He hid the gun in the waistband of his pants, noticing for the first time the amount of blood on his black jeans. He looked at his shirt and saw that it was covered in blood too.

“Shit.” Zander removed the gun from his pants and tugged off his shirt, wrapping the gun in the bloody material. He stopped at a street vendor and bought a blue T-shirt. He pulled it on before walking away from the area. The gun was in place at the small of his back, hidden underneath the new shirt. His old shirt, the one coated in blood, he tossed into the trash.

The day was getting hotter as the sun rose higher. Zander stopped in a park and moved behind the bushes where he couldn’t be seen. He cut off the lower portion of his pants where most of the blood was smeared. After tossing the ends of his pants in the trash, he spied a bus stop. It was the easiest way to get out of the area. It didn’t matter which way the bus was going, only that he would be out of this neighborhood and safe.

He had plenty of time to make it to Copacabana. When he felt better, he’d check in with Billy and Roger. They had to be worried about him, but they each had a job to do, and they had to trust that the other would do their job. He shouldn’t have helped Mike Jarred. That might come back to bite him in the ass, but Jarred didn’t know his name and he’d wiped the phone of prints. His ball cap was low on his forehead, blocking any street cameras from getting a good shot of him.

Zander loaded onto the bus, keeping his head down as he paid and took a seat. He stayed on the bus for about twenty minutes as they headed south. He checked, seeing that there were no cameras on the bus. Midway through the ride he ditched his ball cap, tossing it under the seat. After he got off the first bus he purchased another shirt, this one yellow, and found another bus that would take him closer to his final destination. Darkness came and he found a place to stay for the night. He still didn’t feel safe calling in so he stayed under the radar eating at a small café and going to bed early. He woke before the sun was up and headed out, eager to connect with his team.

*~*~*

Marshal hadn’t slept at all during the night. Every second had been spent going over their information. Nothing new had come to light. They’d searched the Internet for information coming from Brazil, but they hadn’t found anything. Tucker had broken into the DEA’s computer for a short while but didn’t find any operational notes.

Waiting to find out what had happened was driving him mad. By four in the morning he was ready to give up. His stomach was sour and his head throbbed. The guys had taken turns sleeping so he’d not been left alone, but having company did little to make him feel better.

He got up to pour himself another cup of coffee when the phone rang. No one moved at first and then Tucker jumped up to answer, placing the call on speaker.

“Tucker here.”

“Hey Tuck, is Marshal around?” Zander’s voice bounced around the room, sliding over Marshal.

Hearing Zander’s voice caused his throat to close with thick emotions and his head to spin. He dropped to the chair beside him, almost falling over. No words would come as he replayed the voice in his mind, making sure it really was Zander he’d heard.

“Yeah, he’s here. He’s a bit overwhelmed. We were worried about you,” Tucker said.

“I’m on a burner cell and will call back later. Marshal, I’m fine. Not one hair on my head is hurt. I’m on my way to the hotel. When I meet up with Billy and Roger, I’ll call again.”

“Sure thing,” Tucker said.

“Wait,” Marshal cried out.

“Marsh, you still there?” Zander asked.

“Yeah, let me pick up the extension.” Marshal fumbled with the phone, causing noise to spit from the base. When he had the receiver in his hand, he nodded at Tucker, indicating that he could hang up. “Hey,” Marshal whispered, not trusting his voice.

“I love you so much. It was a rough mission, but it’s done.”

Marshal breathed out a sigh of relief. “God, I was so worried.”

“But you know I’m good, right?”

“I do and I trust you. I was just afraid the DEA would take you into custody.”

“Yeah, they almost did. I ended up helping Mr. DEA. Don’t worry, it’s all cool today. I’ll be on a plane tomorrow and on the way home. When I get back, we need to schedule some time away. Maybe we’ll go to Hawaii or something.”

“That would be good.” Marshal propped his head up with one hand as exhaustion hit him.

“Cool. I need to go so I can get to the hotel. I love you and will talk to you later.”

“Okay, love you.”

The call ended and Marshal replaced the receiver. The room was full now, all eyes on him. He nodded but couldn’t say anything. Zander was okay, that’s all that mattered. He’d never been this worried about a mission before. He glanced over to James and nodded. Now he understood why James was going to leave. Too many more missions like this one and he’d be ready to walk away too. When Zander got home, they’d have a lot to discuss.

Chapter Twenty-Five

James had spent the night at the ranch and it had been enough to convince him he was making the right choice. He drove into Pueblo, finding a spot to park down the street from the hotel where Landon was staying. The scare with Zander had driven home how much he cared for Brody. Maybe moving away from the ranch was premature, but his mind was made up. For now, he could do one thing that would take pressure off Brody.

About twenty minutes after he parked, Landon came out of his room and headed to his truck. James followed behind him, waiting for the guy to make his move. James watched as Landon set up outside the fire station where Brody was working. His shift would end in thirty minutes. James didn’t see any illegal activity from Landon but he feared what the guy was setting up to do. Even though he didn’t have any evidence against Landon, James used a burner cell to call the police, reporting a person with a gun inside a car outside the fire station.

James drove his car around the block and parked before walking over to the diner. Becky was on the clock, her clipped heals echoing through the building like usual. He took his normal seat, the one that gave him the best angle to watch the station and waited for the cops to show up. They weren’t moving fast enough and he began to get impatient. He was worried that Brody would show his face outside of the fire station before the cops arrived. Another minute passed and he was about to pull out his phone when Becky walked up to his table.

“Oh my, dear, how have you been? Goodness, I don’t think I’ve seen you in here in a couple of days. Where have you been? I didn’t see you at the dance. You know, there are a lot of girls out there just waiting for a guy like you. I did hear that Jessica broke up with that fireman. She’s on the market again, maybe you could hook up with her.”