Authors: Lisa Harris
Tags: #Drug traffic—Fiction, #FIC042060, #Women teachers—Fiction, #Students—Fiction
Fatal Exchange (25 page)
He missed them. Hated the fact that they’d been deceived. Unsure if he’d ever figure out a way to make things right.
If he stayed undercover, he’d end up with a contract hit on his head. If he tried to come home, he’d be arrested. His handler was right. Unless their plan worked, there would be no escape.
Please, God, just one more week to finish the job.
1
M
ichael Hunt staggered from the impact of the blow. His hand reached automatically for his bruised rib cage. He knew the techniques of ignoring pain. Bargain with self. Dissociate yourself from your body. Focus on the finish line. But focusing on the finish line wasn’t easy when two years of undercover work was about to vanish.
His attacker, Tomas, shoved Michael into a chair and hovered over him. Topping six foot with a solid two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle, the man was clearly enjoying himself.
“I can do this all day.” Tomas’s smile displayed a gold tooth and far too much pleasure. “What’s your real name?”
Michael struggled for a breath. “Michael Linley.”
“Who are you working for? CIA? FBI? DEA?”
Michael groaned, then spit out the same name he’d repeated over and over the past twenty minutes. “Antonio Valez.”
He could add his own list of jumbled abbreviations for Valez. CEO . . . CFO . . . CIO . . . After two years of working with the real estate mogul, the answers, both real and fake, surfaced automatically despite the thick fog clouding his brain brought
on from the pain. Michael Linley . . . Liam Quinn. . . Michael Hunt. All layers of who he was and who he’d become.
“Try again,” Tomas spat out.
Michael’s jaw clinched as the man pulverized his side with his ironlike knuckles, knocking the breath out of him. He fought to concentrate on a water spot on the dingy wall, shaped like a rabbit. Tried to concentrate on anything but the pain. Anything besides the fact that today was Christmas and he might not ever see his family again. The best he could hope for—if he managed to survive—was a few cracked ribs and bruises.
But he wasn’t betting on that.
“Last chance. Who are you working for?”
Michael groaned, tired of the relentless questions. The lines between fact and fiction had begun to fade months ago. All he’d ever wanted was to serve God and country. Now his family believed he was dead. His country believed he was a traitor. To live, he needed to convince Tomas he really was the man he’d claimed to be. A corrupt businessman, happy to insure Valez’s dirty money came out clean. But while today wasn’t the first time he’d faced death, something told him he’d run out of extra lives.
Michael lifted his head and caught Tomas’s gaze. “I keep telling you. I work for Antonio Valez. You’ve known me for months. Nothing has changed.” He forced a weak smile. “Besides, why would I betray any of you? I make too much money off of your boss.”
“That’s a question you’re still going to have to answer to him, but in the meantime, I have something that should help jog your memory.”
Michael looked up, his left eye swollen, vision blurred. Two of Valez’s goons dragged a man into the cottage. It took Michael a few seconds to recognize Sam Kendall. The man’s face was beaten. Blood crusted across his right cheek and his upper
lip was split. They dumped Kendall onto the floor in front of Michael, then one of them shoved him over onto his back with his boot.
Kendall worked to brace his elbows against the floor in order to sit up. “I’m sorry, Michael.”
Sorry?
The word shot through Michael like a stray bullet. Nothing—especially not sorry—would save either of them at this point. Neither could sorry make up for all those months of risking his life for the sake of justice. He never should have trusted the man. Never should have believed that having an inside man would save him.
Michael turned away, trying to mask any hint of recognition, but one look at Tomas’s eyes and Michael knew everything he’d managed to accomplish had just been destroyed. He’d never be able to take down Valez and the men above him. His decision to meet with Kendall had been a mistake. Undercover work had always come natural to him, but he’d missed something today. Something that could end up costing both of them everything.
But despite the odds, he wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.
Michael shifted his gaze back to Tomas. “Wait until Antonio gets back. He knows I’d never betray him.”
“Really? I find that hard to believe, because Antonio’s the one who told me to take care of this problem. He’s had some doubts regarding your loyalty, and this man proves it.”
Michael drew in a breath and felt crushing pain sweep through his rib cage. Push too hard and Tomas
would
kill him. Push just hard enough and he might be able to save them both.
“Does Antonio really know what you’re doing or is this your own personal witch hunt?” Michael kept talking, not giving Tomas a chance to answer. “I know how this works, and I even understand. Valez isn’t easy to impress, and you need to climb the ranks. But what if you’re wrong about me. Betraying one
of the boss’s trusted men isn’t going to go over well when he finds out what you’ve done.”
Michael caught the seed of doubt germinating in Tomas’s gaze, but was another string of lies going to be enough?
“Untie me and I’ll explain everything.” Michael jutted his chin toward Kendall. “Including this man, because clearly someone is feeding you the wrong information.”
“I don’t think so.” Tomas shook his head, clearly not ready to buy into Michael’s attempt to talk his way out of an early grave. “We intercepted a message from your friend here to meet you. We know he’s one of them. That the two of you have been communicating over the past few months, primarily phone conversations on burn phones and blocked email addresses, and that you were passing information on to him.”
“No—”
“There’s no need to defend yourself.” Tomas laughed. “Your friend here’s already confessed everything.”
Michael studied Kendall’s expression but couldn’t read him. Tomas knew how to play the game as well as he did, but still, he had to be bluffing. They were both trained to withstand interrogation, which meant if Kendall had kept his wits, Tomas knew nothing. He was simply playing him. But if he were wrong and Tomas
had
stumbled upon the truth . . .
Michael felt his world slowly collapse around him. If they could tie him to the agent, they’d both end up with a bullet in their heads. Even if he did survive, killing Kendall would put him on the run, not just from the cartel, but the government as well.
The hesitation Michael had caught momentarily in Tomas’s gaze vanished. “You do know what Valez does to people who betray him, don’t you?”
It was a rhetorical question. Michael had seen firsthand what Valez and his men could do. The only reason he hadn’t walked away months ago was because there were bigger fish to fry.
Taking down Valez would put a dent in the cartel’s grip of the southern United States. Finding out the identity of La Sombra could cripple the entire organization.
He knew the stakes, just like he’d known the risks of staying undercover. There was no one to come to his rescue. No one beside Kendall who knew where he was. Or knew for certain, for that matter, that he was innocent.
Funny how life played out sometimes. This morning, despite Kendall’s new reservations, he’d convinced the agent to give him another week before he walked away. Another week was going to be seven days too late.
“Can’t answer?” Tomas’s smile broadened, dragging Michael back to the present. “Valez has a dozen ways to silence people, but he prefers methods that are slow and painful. Whatever method he chooses, you’ll both end up at the bottom of the Atlantic.”
Michael’s chest heaved, followed by another wave of searing pain through his torso. The authorities would never find either of them. All it would take was a trip out into the ocean, a weight, and their bodies would disappear. The chilly water surrounding the lengthy string of barrier islands off the coast of Georgia would become the perfect graveyard.
Tomas pointed his weapon at Kendall’s head and pulled the trigger. Michael flinched at the explosion. Kendall’s body jerked. A trickle of red trailed down his forehead as he stared lifelessly at the ceiling.
“You didn’t have to do that!” Michael felt his heart rate accelerate, while his mind worked to absorb what had just happened. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.
I’m not ready
to die, Lord. Not yet. You brought me here to
help bring about justice, and this . . . this is pure evil
.
Michael sat rigid, waiting for a bullet to stamp out his own life. Had he really thought he could outsmart the cartel? Believed
they wouldn’t find out what he was doing? His desire to bring them down might have numbed the sense of danger, but he’d never forgotten that death could—at any moment—become his reality. Just like he’d never stopped believing that integrity and truth could still prevail in a fallen world.
Tomas pressed the gun against Michael’s forehead. The weapon clicked. Adrenaline soared. Nothing. Michael stared at the barrel of the gun, his heart racing as a wave of nausea swept over him. Russian roulette wasn’t a game he wanted to play.
“Don’t worry.” Tomas pushed Michael’s head back with the barrel of the gun and laughed. “The boss has something different planned for you. He’s currently caught up with some unexpected business, but he’ll arrive early tomorrow morning so he can take care of you himself. He told me he has s
omething special in mind for you. Which gives you just over twelve hours to think about your final demise.”
Tomas shoved the gun into the holster in his waistband, then exited the room with his two lackeys. Michael’s gaze flicked toward Kendall’s lifeless body, his open eyes still staring up at him.
It wasn
’t supposed to end this way, God .
. .
A stab of pain shot through his throbbing rib cage as he weighed his options. It would be dark within the hour. His hands and feet were tied with zip ties, the windows of the cottage barred, and the nearest neighbor—a half-dozen miles away—would never hear him. Which meant he had twelve hours to find a way out. And even if he did manage to escape, finding a way off the island was only the beginning of his problems.
Writing a book is always a team effort. I’m so grateful for my fabulous editors, Andrea, Barb, and Ellen, who are incredible at what they do. And to my family who gives me the time I need to meet my deadlines. Love you guys!
Lisa Harris
is a Christy Award finalist and the winner of the Best Inspirational Suspense Novel for 2011 from
Romantic
Times
. She has over twenty novels and novella collections in print. She and her family have spent the past ten years living as missionaries in Africa where she works with the women and runs a nonprofit organization that works alongside their church-planting ministry. The ECHO Project works in southern Africa promoting Education, Compassion, Health, and Opportunity and is a way for her to “
speak up for those who cannot
speak for themselves . . . the poor and helpless, and see that
they get justice
” (Prov. 31:8).
When she’s not working, she loves hanging out with her family, cooking different ethnic dishes, photography, and heading into the African bush on safari. For more information about her books and life in Africa visit her website at
www.lisaharriswrites.com
or her blog at
http://myblogintheheartofafrica.blogspot.com
. For more information about The ECHO Project, please visit
www.theECHOproject.org
.
S
OUTHERN
C
RIMES
Dangerous Passage
Fatal Exchange
