The Drazen World: Torn (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Torn #1) (2 page)

              My mind snaps to the reason I’m in Iowa, the case.  I’ve been working on this case with a vengeance for years.  Ever since I lost my family to drugs, I’ve vowed to track down the motherfuckers that are dealing shit on the streets and bring them down.  I’ve been stationed in cities from Chicago to L.A., I’ll go anywhere the bureau comes up with a lead.

              L.A. is one of the worst.  It’s a hot bed of gangs, mafia and drug lords just waiting to pray on the young and lost, just like my sister.  Well, the FBI finally caught a break.  The bureau has secretly intercepted massive shipments of opium entering L.A. from China.  We just don’t know who and how.  My guess, the L.A. syndicate. 

              The L.A. syndicate is a slimy, crafty bunch that deal their dirty deeds and feed off the backs of hard working people and their businesses.  If you have what they want, they’ll either make you an offer that you’ll
take,
or they’ll ruin you, taking what they want for free.  Up until recently there has been no cracks, no weakness in the impenetrable walls of protection surrounding the L.A. syndicate and its members.  A slow grin creeps across my face, but now, we might just have found a hairline crack, a weakness that could bust them wide open.

              I pick up my pace as I pass a couple, trying not to make eye contact as they make out like rabbits, oblivious to my presence.  Continuing along the path, Johnathan S. Drazen III has attracted the attention of the FBI, and has landed firmly on their radar.  Authorities have suspected that Johnathan Drazen’s father, J. Declan Drazen, has been a major player and heavy hitter in the L.A. syndicate for years, we just haven’t been able to prove it.  His son Jonathan could very well be the piece of the puzzle that brings dear old dad and the L.A. syndicate down.

              As I run along the last of the trail I spot a crane who immediately freezes as I approach.  It just amazes me how freaking big those bird are.  Suddenly, like lightening the birds head pierces through the water coming up with a fish in its sharp beak.  Within seconds the struggling fish is swallowed whole.  I watch in amazement as the wiggling bulge slowly sinks downward, making the lengthy journey, descending the cranes long neck, to its final resting place.  As I jog closer the mighty bird pushes off the water and glides to the other end of the river. 
Shit it’s wing span has to be at least six-feet wide.

              Johnathan Drazen is the reason I’ve been plucked out of D.C., and thrown into Iowa.  Seems Johnathan is expanding his ever growing real-estate empire by snatching up prime real-estate in Des Moines, Iowa. 

              The FBI has been tracking the Drazen family for years. They’ve been watching Johnathan Drazen expand his empire of hotels and bars from L.A. and Vancouver, to New York and Asia, specifically China
. 
China, just happens to be the leading grower and supplier of opium to the United States.  Does the bureau think Johnathan Drazen is dealing in opium through his hotel in China
—
no, at least not by himself.  The bureau is interested in finding out who his investors are in this particular real estate venture. There’s no way Mr. Drazen could build so quickly in China and be operational so fast, without some inside help.

              Our mole inside of Johnathan’s L.A. organization tipped us off, leaking the purchase of this property in Des Moines.  Immediately it was flagged for a number of reasons.  Why would a real estate mogul like Johnathan Drazen build in Iowa?  The only possible reasoning for choosing Des Moines, Iowa is its physical location.  Des Moines, is centrally located in the United States.  I-80 intersects the U.S East to West, and I-35 intersects the U.S. North to South, both running through the heart of Des Moines, Iowa.  What better way to move drugs through the Country. 

              Grinning with satisfaction, the FBI knew in advance that this Iowa deal was in the works.  We knew Mr. Drazen had made an offer to purchase the exclusive Escapade Hotel in Des Moines.  That’s where I come in.  Eight months ago the bureau planted me as one of the hotels assistant operating business managers, putting me in a prime position to get close to
the
Johnathan Drazen and his business dealings. 

              An evil grin openly slides across my face.  Johnathan Drazen has a reputation that follows him far and wide.  The man is a playboy.  Let me rephrase that. From the files I’ve read on the man he’s a fucking manwhore.  Ever since his divorce from his former wife Jessica Carnes, the man has whored his way through his grief, sticking his cock into anything he finds appealing. 

              I was given this particular assignment because of my MBA from Harvard, my keen business mind and my attractive physical assets.  Striding a little taller, squaring my shoulders, an evil shiver courses through my system.  I’m exactly what Johnathan Drazen looks for.  I’ve got a killer body, legs that go on forever, ample C – cups and an ass that most men can’t turn down.  Am I full of myself?  Maybe, but I’ve been tested out in the field many times, and I’ve always got the perp in the end.

              I round the corner exiting the park.  Stopping, I run in place waiting for traffic to pass.  Placing two fingers on my jugular, I breath deep and count, checking my heart rate.  I have one more push up the steep winding hill into my apartment complex.  The bureau set me up in a relatively nice two bedroom apartment, helping me to blend in.  ‘Back in Black by AC/DC,’ starts pumping through my ear buds as I sprint across the road and hit the steep incline.  As I stride my way past the enormous sign welcoming me to ‘Winding Hills Apartments’ my calves start to strain under the extreme incline.  Pushing harder, I work through the pain, climbing the hill as if it’s no big deal, at least I’m sure that’s what it looks like to others.

              The little wooden address signs fly by as I make my way toward my building.  I quickly approach ‘Twenty
—
Twenty
—
Two,’
that’s me.
  I turn right abruptly and I slow my pace to a brisk walk, beginning my cool down.  As I approach my apartment, I notice two new black Lexus sedans parked in front of the building.  Eyeing the license plates, both are from Polk County, so they’re from the Des Moines area. I wonder if they belong to new neighbors?  If I even have new neighbors.  Ever since I’ve lived here, the apartment across the hall has been vacant, so if I have new neighbors I hope they’re nice.

              Walking over to one of the many large trees that litter the small courtyard in front of the building, I place both hands against the tree, bending forward and stretching.  Inhaling a deep cleansing breath, the scent of freshly cut pine trees on a dewy morning, cloves and smoke tickle my nose.  The soft scents dance through the air, teasing my senses, beckoning me to find the person they belong to. 

              Trying to be inconspicuous, I let my eyes wander the front of the building, noticing the patio door to the apartment across from me, open. 
I do have new neighbors. 
My eyes hone in on the patio, where hiding in the shadows is a masculine outline standing just out of sight.  The orange glow from the tip of his cigarette suddenly burns brighter, as he takes a long drag, then steps back into the shadows.

              Fishing the spare key from my waistband, I sprint up the front stairs.  My muscles scream for a nice hot shower and my mind wonders who my new neighbor is?

              Half-an-hour later I’m out of the shower and dressed for bed in my usual shorts and cotton tank top.

             　Plugging my phone in to charge, I set my alarm for five in the morning.  That should give me plenty of time to get my long auburn hair under control and dressed for work. Making my way to the closet, I slide the hollow wooden door open with a
thunk.
  I want to look especially nice tomorrow, I want to make a good impression.  The memo came out a few days ago, Johnathan Drazen will be arriving tomorrow to oversee the transition of the company.  Grinning, this is exactly what the bureau was hoping for.  Flicking through the hangers, my eyes roam the countless pencil skirts and slacks that are hand pressed and ready to impress.  I’ll be wearing a lot of dresses and skirts, anything to catch the eye of Mr. Drazen.

              My eyes land on a light grey pencil skirt that fits me like a glove.  Plucking it from the bar, I then reach for the light silk grey top that matches the skirt.  The ensemble shows off my best assets, my tits and ass. 

              As an FBI agent I have to stay in good shape and god gave me the rest.  God granted me with a generous pair of C-cups and I’ve worked out tirelessly for the tight ass.  My light brown eyes shimmer gold in the light, catching most people’s attention.

              Grabbing my grey Louis Vuitton heels from the rack, yea I’m pulling out all the stops.  My ass looks great in three inch heels.  The poor bastard won’t know what hit him, especially when I play hard to get. 

              I walk over and carefully hang my clothes from the hook on the bathroom door and set my shoes in front of my dressing table. 

              I pad out to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator.  Next stop, my stereo cabinet. Squatting and opening the bottom door, it reveals the safe that I store all my FBI files and personal belongings in.  Punching in the correct combination, a green light flashes as a soft click indicates the safe is open.  Twisting the handle, I swing the heavy door open.  I reach in, grabbing the file I’ve committed to memory and my personal cell phone.

              Shutting the door with a click, I grab my water off the floor and head to the sofa.  Plopping onto the sofa, my thighs ache,
maybe I over did it a bit tonight.

              Setting the blue folder embossed with the FBI seal on the coffee table, I grab my phone to see if there are any messages.

              Tapping the screen
—
nothing.  Disappointment surges through my system.  My partner, Roy Gardner and his wife Heather are expecting their first child.  He called last night, telling me they were on their way to the hospital, Heathers water had broken.  I could hear Heather next to him going through her breathing exercises.  She sounded like she was in pain, and Roy sounded both worried sick and panic stricken.  He wanted to come with me on this assignment but with Heathers due date so close I told him I was okay to fly solo. Usually he poses as my husband, or boyfriend, but in this case, with Johnathan Drazen I needed to be unattached, and single.

              Sighing and setting the phone on the table, I flip open the file.  Staring back at me is a candid head shot of Johnathan S. Drazen III.  His eyes are an emerald green and twinkle back at me, making something deep in my stomach flip.  His copper hair is style perfectly in that sexy mussed up way that’s so popular now.  Even in a picture the man radiates power and sex.  I can see why woman find him so attractive, well that and his bank account.  I have no interest in Johnathan Drazen romantically.  It’s always been my strict policy to never get involved romantically with a perp
—
ever.

              Scanning the file, my eyes landing on their target.  I need to refresh my memory for tomorrow.  Hotel C is the twenty-eight story hotel and bar located in China.  Hotel K is the thirty-story, modern rooftop bar in LA.  Hotel M, is a possible venture in Seoul Korea.  The FBI found out about his tentative plans to build in Korea through diplomatic channels. Hotel I is his newest venture in Des Moines, Iowa. 

              Right now my main concern is the new Hotel I.  Johnathan purchased the elite Escapade Hotel in Des Moines as planned.  If he follows his usual business technique, he’ll be gutting the building and making it into another LA style club.  There’s nothing like it in the mid-west, so there’s no doubt that he has another money maker on his hands.  Johnathan Drazen is also known to clean house.  He’ll go through the company’s personnel files, keeping the people he wants and firing the rest.  In my case, I’m hoping to put my MBA to work and show him I can be a valuable asset to his company. All I needed to do, is pass his test.

              I jump slightly as my phone jerks to life, vibrating in circles around the table. 
Roy!
  Butterflies flutter in my chest.  I grab the phone hitting accept.

              “Are you a proud Papa?”  I can’t contain myself.  I can hardly wait for this little one to be born.

              In the back ground I hear beeping and cursing.  “No.”  Roy sighs deeply. “Not yet.”

              My senses immediately go on alert.  He sounds stressed.  “Is everything okay?”  I can’t hide the concern from my voice.  It’s been, I glance at the clock, eight hours since her water broke.

              “Everything is fine.  The kid is just taking its sweet time.”  In the background I hear the unmistakable moan, then a blood curdling scream of pain, followed by a string of profanity.

              I chuckle into the receiver. “Is that Heather?”

              “Yea.”  He whispers.  “I’m scared.”  I can almost imagine him hiding in the bathroom.

              “Is she okay?”  I attempt to sound serious, but can’t hide my soft chuckle.

              “You fucker.”  I hear Heather’s voice echo through the room.

              I giggle openly.  “I guess I should be asking if you’re okay.”