Chapter Thirty-One
SEVEN HOURS LATER, Riley descended the jet stairs with Andre and stepped onto the tarmac at John C. Tune Airport. A short distance away, four men dressed in black suits, dark ties, white shirts, and shoes shiny enough to see her face in walked toward the operatives.
Feds. Her lip curled. She ought to know since she used to be one. Thank goodness she’d come to her senses and accepted Brent’s job offer.
Andre set his bags on the ground and shifted to step slightly in front of her.
Riley wanted to roll her eyes in exasperation, but the gesture was kind of sweet.
Since curiosity was eating her alive, she stepped to the side to get a better view of the crew who would take charge of their prisoner.
Although he was still asleep, the drug Violet used was only good for around twelve hours.
After that, Garcia would wake disoriented, cranky, and hungry.
The feds arrived as Brent stepped onto the tarmac. Short One walked up to Brent with an outstretched hand.
“Rob Foster, FBI.”
“I want to see identification from all of you.”
The four men exchanged glances and reached into their pockets for their credential wallets. They handed them over as each man introduced himself to the Fortress CEO.
The boss took his sweet time examining their credentials and returning them. “What do you want?”
Foster spoke up first. “Javier Garcia.”
“What about him?”
“You have him. We want him. Simple as that.”
Riley flinched at the implied insult. Man, she hoped Brent was in a good mood after a successful mission. Otherwise, he would tear strips off their hides before he really got mean.
He folded his arms across his chest and eyed Foster. “As simple as that, huh?” Brent shook his head. “You don’t have a clue what you’re doing.”
The agent’s face flushed. “I don’t appreciate….”
“I don’t care if I hurt your feelings. What I care about is getting back to my family in the next hour so I don’t miss my daughter’s dance competition.
I care about holding my wife for a long time, and I care that we escaped Obsidian Storm and damaged the organization.
But do you know what I really care about? ”
Foster rolled his finger in the sign to keep going.
“Two things. One, I’m concerned your interrogators won’t learn anything from Garcia. Two, I’m also concerned about your ability to keep Garcia in custody.” His gaze raked across the four of them. “Frankly, I doubt it.”
Foster’s face darkened further. “Shut up. Just shut up. Have some respect for the office if not the person. And for your information, we have more experience interrogating high-value targets than you could ever dream about.”
Andre huffed. “What kind of convoluted line are you feeding yourself, Foster? Do you really expect us to believe your lies?”
“Are you serious right now? I’m a federal agent. We’re here to help. The only trouble I see around here is you and your girlfriend.”
“Find a mirror, dude.” He inclined his head toward the jet’s stairs. “There’s your package. Boss, I assume we’re debriefing tomorrow?”
Brent gave him a slight nod without taking his gaze from the feds. “Go.”
“Wait a minute.” Foster glowered at Brent. “I need to interview Marsh and Sloan.” His lip curled as though an unpleasant taste had assaulted his taste buds.
Andre scowled as he rounded on the agent. “Let’s cut to the chase. You want to interrogate us.”
The other man shrugged. “You said it, not me.”
Riley grabbed Andre’s arm when he took a step toward Foster with a clenched fist. “Not worth it.”
“Might be.”
“Nope. I have plans with you, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” He gave her a slow smile. “Those plans.”
She smiled. The only plan they had was for her and Andre to go on dates. Lots of dates. They had many dates to make up since they had wasted so much time getting together.
Foster rolled his eyes. “You can wait a few hours while we find out what we need to know.”
“No,” Brent said. “My people are wiped out. They deserve a chance to rest before they’re back on duty. You have one hour to get the answers you want, and not one minute more.”
When the agent protested vehemently, the boss grabbed his phone and made a call.
A moment later, he said, “I’m calling in one of the dozens of favors you owe me.
” He explained the situation. “I believe one hour is reasonable, sir.” A pause, then, “Yes, sir. We brought him back to the States. He needs a little medical attention for a couple of knife wounds.” Brent listened again, then held out his phone to Foster. “It’s for you.”
The agent looked at the phone with suspicion, but placed it to his ear and said, “Hello. This is Special Agent Rob Foster, FBI. Who is this?” The agent’s face went pale as he straightened. “Yes, sir.” A pause, then, “Yes, sir. I understand.” After a beat, he handed the phone back to Brent.
Foster turned back to Andre and Riley. “Where can we talk?”
“Fortress has a private waiting area in the building behind us,” Andre said. “We can talk there. Might be best to take Garcia to your vehicle so he’s not out in the public eye.”
Foster motioned to two of his colleagues. “Take him to the SUV. O’Leary and I will interview Marsh and Sloan.”
“Yes, sir.” The two younger agents took Garcia from the Montgomery brothers and carried him to their vehicle.
“This way,” Andre said. He clasped Riley’s hand and led the two agents to the Fortress waiting area, which was behind a door secured with a biometric scanner. “Have a seat. Want anything to drink?”
Foster and O’Leary looked surprised. “What are you having?” O’Leary asked.
Andre looked amused. “Water. Did you think I was going for alcohol?”
Both agents’ cheeks turned pink. Foster cleared his throat. “Water is great. Thanks.”
Riley went to the company refrigerator, grabbed four bottles of water, and handed two of them to the agents, then joined Andre on one sofa. After she drained half of the liquid, she said, “What do you want to know?”
For the next hour, the FBI agents peppered Riley and Andre with questions about their time in Mexico and their interaction with Garcia. “Are you sure Garcia didn’t mention the possibility that infected people had already crossed the border into the United States?”
“No, he didn’t,” Riley said. “In fact, the people designated to be infected were talking about how they were scheduled to receive a shot in the next hour. No one mentioned another group already receiving the shot.”
Andre gave a small nod. “None of the scientists, Garcia, or Mendoza mentioned earlier border crossers.”
“We’ll have to confirm that with Garcia.”
That was fine as far as she and Andre were concerned. Once Garcia left their custody, he was no longer their problem. “Do it.”
Foster and O’Leary stood. “Thanks for staying to talk to us.” O’Leary’s voice conveyed his reluctance to be polite.
Andre opened the door. “Safe travels.”
Foster paused. “How long will Garcia be unconscious?”
“About three more hours, but everybody metabolizes medications differently. Don’t take your eyes off him for a minute. He’s a good liar and actor.”
The men smirked as they turned to go. “We’ve got it from here. You just take care of yourselves.”
After they left, Andre glanced at Riley. “Does their response fill you with confidence?”
“Those boys don’t have a clue how dangerous Garcia is. I’m afraid this isn’t the last we’ll see of him or his people.”