My Mystery Mate Ch 13 14

From Invictus

By William Ernest Henley

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

I am the captain of my soul.

...

Safe House

Los Angeles, CA

Joe mentally sent to Linda as they both shifted, "PROTECT LYNN." The wolf and the jaguar sprang forward from the weapons room in the back of the closet, their nails tearing up the carpeting as they took the hard corner into the hallway. Joe turned right towards the front door, nearly colliding with a man who was stepping over Trevor's body, while Linda took a hard left towards the living room and her daughter.

Joe leapt up, grabbing the forearm holding the silenced pistol, and used his weight to pull the man to the ground as his teeth ripped strips of flesh from his arm. The gun fired once wildly. The man screamed, his pistol falling to the ground, forgotten as the pain rushed to his head. The pair went heavily to the ground, Joe bouncing off the wall and floor without losing his grip.

Linda leapt forward to where her daughter had changed into her cat form. She picked her daughter up by the neck, moving them out of the way behind the short wall separating the dining room from the living room. As soon as they were out of sight, she let her daughter go, sniffing and inspecting her for injuries and finding none.

Joe had gotten to his feet and was starting to drag the intruder by his mangled arm away from his mate when he felt a sharp pain in his right leg. He dropped the man and spun around, the knife twisting against his bone as he did so. He was about to leap for his throat when an arm came up, dragging the man backwards, as Trevor got into the fight.

"We need him alive." Linda's words shocked him to action, he smoothly shifted back to his human form, then reached down and pulled the combat knife from his leg. Reversing it in his hand, he moved forward and clocked the man in the temple, knocking him out. Joe closed the door and pulled the man into the living room.

Trevor coughed up blood, the shot had hit him in the upper left side of his chest, perilously close to his heart. Linda ran into the kitchen, finding the combat first aid kit stored under the sink. She tossed a packet of Quick Clot and a battle dressing to Joe, his knife wound wasn't life threatening. She then moved to Trevor, she could hear the air being sucked into his chest through the hole. She placed a large dressing over it, then placed a plastic dressing over the top, being careful to seal around the outside. She then pulled down some pillows and cushions from the couch, using them to raise his upper body so he wouldn't drown in his own blood.

Meanwhile, Joe had field dressed his wound and was wrapping it with an Ace bandage. He went into the bedroom, limping heavily, and came back dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, the blood cleaned from his leg. While he was gone, Lynn had changed back to her human form and had run to her room to get dressed again. Linda removed a large syringe from the kit, drew a big dose of sedative, and injected it into the man's neck just as Joe returned.

"Go get dressed, I got this. Did you hit him with enough to knock him out for a while?"

"Yep, we won't have to worry about forced turn rage with him. He will turn, though." Their sensitive hearing could hear the sirens approaching, apparently the noise had attracted the attention of the neighbors. "We can't stay to interrogate him."

Trevor gestured for them to go, then spoke quietly, little droplets of blood leaking from his mouth. "Go, I've done nothing wrong and aren't in the system. I'll work with the cops and we'll figure out who this guy worked with and get his story." Joe and Linda looked at each other. "GO, you are both wanted, take Lynn with you."

Joe looked at his mate and they nodded. "Thanks, Trevor. We'll be in touch." Grabbing Linda's laptop, Joe moved into the bedroom to grab the rest of their gear while Linda got Lynn out of her room.

"Follow me, this house has an escape route." They all moved back into the gun room and closed the door just as the police arrived at the house. Mentally she told them, "Everyone be quiet, they won't find us if we don't make noise." She pulled a floor square loose, exposing a ladder going down into a tunnel. Jumping in, she told Lynn to follow her down. "Toss me all the bags we need, then get down here." Joe did so, then slid the deadbolts home in the door quietly before he turned off the light in the room. He went part way down the ladder, then lifted the floor plate and carefully set it in place.

The tunnel wasn't tall enough to stand up in, so the two adults were hunched over as they moved, Linda in the lead and Joe trailing. Both were carrying a bunch of gear. Linda had a headlamp on, it was illuminating their path enough with their eyes slightly shifted to use their panther vision. The tunnel went on for about a hundred yards until they came to another ladder. With room to stand, she pulled the two into a hug. "OK, I'll go up and make sure the garage is secure. Keep quiet." Moving to the top of the ladder, she pushed up on the trapdoor set in the corner of a one car garage. She raised it a few inches and let her senses expand; there were no smells other than rust and gasoline. Setting the trapdoor slowly aside, she moved up and verified there was no danger before coming back to the ladder.

"OK, come on up Lynn." Joe helped Lynn up the ladder, she was still shaking, the recent events starting to get to her as the adrenaline wore off. Linda pulled her into her arms, then opened the back of the plumbing truck. From the outside it looked like a working man's cargo van, but inside was another story. There were no windows in back, there was a couch and some cabinets containing supplies. "Honey, sit on the couch and don't make any noise, all right?" Lynn nodded.

She moved back to the trapdoor and one at a time caught the bags Joe tossed up. They still had the bag with the stuff from the bank safe deposit box, and now had added a bunch of gear and weapons from the safe room. Linda had even grabbed a few sets of clothes for her daughter. They loaded it all in the van and got in.

"What's the plan, Linda?"

"We can't stay here. As long as Lynn has GPS installed, they can keep coming after us. We need to get it out." She paused. "We need the CIA's help." Palming the thumb drive that contained their blackmail material, she pulled out her laptop and a map program. "The CIA station chief in Los Angeles is named Charles Atwater. I've never met him, but Trevor put his data in here. He lives in a high rise condo in Long Beach." She pulled up the address, then looked up the property data. "There is an underground parking garage in the mall nearby. If we get her underground, that might stop the signal, and it gives us a large population to blend in with."

Joe studied the building. "Looks like a challenge, he's on the penthouse twenty stories up and I'm sure he's got a ton of security as a CIA man."

Linda chuckled. "Leave that to me. I'm Black Ker, after all. This is nothing." She looked at him, the blood had soaked through the Ace bandage on his leg. "How are you doing?"

"It's healing up, I can move." She opened a cabinet, pulling out a pair of black trousers and a black polo shirt. He took them, wincing slightly as he pulled the pants on over the wound. "Basic black, huh?" The pants were a bit big, but the nylon web instructor's belt took care of that.

"Of course, blends into the dark and it doesn't show blood." She sat down with her laptop next to her daughter, who immediately cuddled up to her. She wrote down the address. "Program this into the Garmin before we go. You'll have to drive, it's less likely they have facial recognition on you. There are dark sunglasses and a plumbing company ball cap in the glove box. Once you slide the door closed to the back, no one will be able to see us. This van looks nondescript, but it is fully armored with run flat tires and two gas tanks. We'll be fine."

Joe moved into the front seat, getting everything set before he hit the garage door opener button.

Starting the van, he slowly moved out. They were just down the road and across from where the safe house had been. Cops cars and an ambulance surrounded the building, and as he turned onto the road he could see Trevor being wheeled out in a gurney. He sent the picture mentally to Linda, relieved that he was safe and still moving. He followed the computer voice directions to the freeway and started the fight with traffic to get to Long Beach.

Torchelli Family Estate

Outside Ocean City, Maryland

Frankie Pantolini knew he was in trouble with the Boss. His crew had been tasked with holding Black Ker's daughter hostage so she would cooperate with the jobs they wanted her to do. Ricky had fucked up, big time, and he had never even called him to check before he gave her away. Now he had to deliver the next bit of bad news. The doorman walked him out by the pool where the Underboss of the family, Sammy Torchelli, was having his cock sucked by a topless and clearly voluptuous blond. Sammy looked up as he approached, but he didn't stop his entertainment. The woman was kneeling between his legs as he sat in the wicker chair, the hot sun blocked by the trellis above.

Frankie knew not to interrupt, so he watched as the young woman forced herself down on his cock. She was gagging, Sammy was a big man in all respects, and her saliva was pooling on her chest and the patio below. He took hold of her hair, using his arms to push her down until she had his whole length down her throat. She tried pushing against his legs as she choked, but he held her in place for another five seconds before letting go. She pulled off, taking a few quick breaths, before he pulled her back down again. "Get in here, Frankie, spit roast this bitch." Frankie stripped, tossing his clothes on a nearby chair, and tossed a cushion down behind the woman. He untied her bikini bottom and tossed it aside; moving between her legs, he pulled back until she was bent forward at the waist. He was already hard, and he didn't waste any time with foreplay. She moaned around Sammy's cock as he slammed his length home with one powerful thrust. Quickly building up a rhythm, he pounded her wet slit as Sammy fucked her mouth. She started to scream as she came hard between them, but Sammy stopped that by forcing his cock all the way down her throat again. Frankie started to move even faster, her canal clenching tight around his dick was driving him to completion.

She broke again as Frankie drove himself in and held her in place, his come shooting deep inside her. Sammy watched her eyes roll back as his cock expanded deep in her throat, then he shot long ropes of man gravy in her. She went limp as he finished, the lack of air and the sensation too much for her. Sammy finally let her head up as Frankie guided her to the ground. The left her there, naked and unconscious, cum leaking from both ends as they got up and walked to the pool house.

"Spill, Frankie. Where's Black Ker and her daughter?"

"We don't have them, boss. Rickie T called me when he arrived, he had the address and was going to pick her up. He never called back. My contacts at LAPD tell me he killed a pizza delivery driver, then was torn up by a werewolf or something. He's still alive, he's in surgery now getting his arm repaired. They've got him heavily sedated as they expect him to turn when he wakes up."

Sammy opened the door to the pool house and they walked to the showers. "You think he will give us up?"

"I don't plan to give him a chance. As soon as I heard, I sent men to make sure he never wakes up."

They started to shower off, the room was large with a central post and four shower nozzles. Sammy was about to start shampooing his hair when he started looking around. "Shit, I left my conditioner in my locker." He walked out while Frankie continued to shampoo his shoulder length black hair. When Sammy returned, Frankie had his head back and eyes closed while he rinsed the shampoo out.

He never saw the gun in Sammy's hand, and his brain never registered the sound of the gunshot before it was splattered on the wall behind him.

"Stupid fuck. Good thing we used that implant." Looking at his watch, he smiled. "Two more hours and we won't have to worry about him saying a thing." He walked back out to the locker room area, towel around his waist. Two of his men were waiting with Tyvek suits and rubber boots on, a big tarp and some duct tape in their hands. "Clean this shit up. Tonight, you take the body out to deep water and make sure it's never found." The men jumped to it as Sammy left.

The bosses did not suffer failure, and every once in a while they had to repeat that lesson. It was time to tell his second that he was now in charge of their group, and their first assignment would be to go retrieve Black Ker's daughter. Once she was under his control again, he would control her, and there was money and power to be had in that control.

LA Freeway

North of Long Beach

"Honey, do we have more burner phones?" Joe was looking through the glove box as he sat in traffic.

"Yes, just a minute." Linda opened a latch and pulled a drawer open, inside were a half dozen untraceable models. "Who do you need to call?"

"I just thought of something. You said the Torchelli's put an implant in your neck with a timer to make sure that you didn't run off, right?"

Linda nodded. "Yes, plus if I was captured it made sure I would... SHIT!" She covered her mouth, looking at Lynn she didn't want to scare her. "You think that guy has one too?"

"It wouldn't shock me, and right now he's the only one that can corroborate your story about how the Torchellis used you." He looked in the rear view mirror, smiling slightly. "I think we should get the FBI involved. They investigate organized crime, this Family is from the east coast, and they were tracking Lynn."

"Go for it, we're in a place that will be difficult to track, they government knows we are in LA. Just keep your hat and sunglasses on." She pulled out her laptop, a quick search gave the number of the local field office.

Joe opened the old model flip phone and called the switchboard, a few moments later he was connected to the Organized Crime Unit. "OCU, Special Agent Ramirez."

"Agent Ramirez, this is Joe Miller." There was a pause on the line, his name along with Linda's was on the hot list so he knew this would be recorded. "About an hour ago there was a home invasion involving a pizza delivery in LA. The person who did it is a member of the Torchelli family. He was here to kidnap Linda Merrill's daughter, to give him leverage to control Black Ker. The Torchellis use a neck implant on a timer, it's small but kills instantly if not disabled. The man they arrested may have one, if you don't' get it removed soon he'll be dead. If you contact the El Paso wolf pack, their doctor can confirm removal of a similar device from Linda, and photos can show it is the same thing." He hung up before the man could answer, then rolling down his window he softly tossed the phone in the bed of a compact pickup that was taking the next exit. "OK, now if the FBI can just do their job maybe we can keep him alive long enough to interrogate."

"They better get it out, he's going to be heavily sedated for another two days while he completes the turn." Joe nodded, and turned his attention to the road as the traffic finally started moving again.

Long Beach, California

Ocean Vista Condominiums

"Good evening, Mr. Atwater." The security man in the lobby of the hi-rise condo smiled at him, not aware that the CIA station chief for the West Coast of the US, Canada and Mexico was who he was. Charles mumbled a reply, his mind was elsewhere. The FBI was raising a stink, apparently a crime boss tried to kidnap Black Ker's daughter and a former asset of theirs was now in the hospital. It had taken a while to confirm who Trevor Madison was, that information had been closely held. The Director had to talk to a retired Clandestine Division chief to confirm his identity, the current chief and former directors didn't even know about him. Even then, all the retired man would say was that Trevor had performed work for them in the past, was extremely dangerous and was to be LEFT ALONE.

Extremely dangerous? That didn't sit right with a guy who is shot by the pizza delivery guy. That kind of mistake screamed amateur, and he detested amateurs.

The idea that he had to leave a former asset alone didn't sit right with him either, and he was mulling through the possibilities as he went up the elevator. The building had received some special security modifications when he had made it his home. The elevator required a keycard to enable his floor, and a thumb scanner was cleverly built into the button to verify his identify. The exits to the emergency stairway were blast rated, locked and alarmed. The roof above him was similarly protected, and retired and current agents were residents of the floor below. No one except his personal security detail and his housekeeper had access to his floor. Even his housekeeper was a former employee who still held a high security clearance. As the door opened, he saw her standing near the door as protocol required. Any time the floor was accessed, it sent an alert to the floor and his people would be ready to meet it, guns in hand and ready just in case. He smiled at her as she put the pistol back in its holster and stepped around from the armored desk that faced the elevator.

"Good evening, Patricia." He didn't let many people in but she was a long time employee, it was hard not to be close to her.

"Good evening, sir. Robert has the shift tonight, he's in the security office. Your dinner is in the oven, and unless you have need of me I'll be going." He thanked her and watched as she entered the elevator, when it was gone he took his suit jacket, shoulder holster and tie off and hung them on the back of the chair at the small bar. Pouring himself a single malt, neat, he moved to the office just off the main hallway to check in with his security. He opened the door, Robert was in a chair facing the monitors but he didn't respond when the door opened. He started reaching for his gun as he realized he was slumped over, but his had grasped nothing as he had taken it off. He was about to turn around when the distinctive sound of a .45 Government Model pistol cocking froze him.

"Hello, Chief. Don't do anything stupid." He raised his hands. "Turn around, slowly. Don't worry, he's just going to be out for a few hours, no permanent harm done." Charles turned around, his eyes widening as he recognized the woman holding the gun.

"Black Ker?" His eyes looked around. "How?"

She gestured with her pistol for him to move into the living room. "You know my reputation, Charles. I can get at anyone, anywhere. Your security was not even a challenge for me." She pointed at a couch and he sat down. "Have your drink, I need you to relax. I also need to apologize about your agents. You see, I had a significant head injury a few weeks ago and had no memory of who I was." She turned her head slightly, lifting her hair so he could clearly see the scars. "When your men approached, we panicked and did what we had to in order to get away."

His eyes narrowed and rage filled them. "They were good men. I'll make sure you pay for that."

"No... no you won't." She tossed him a thumb drive. "On this disc is information related to the CIA's involvement in the death of Princess Diana. An encrypted version is already in the possession of the New York Times... if anything happens to me, the key gets sent to them. You can look at that later, though- I really don't have time and I'm not here to blackmail you. I'm here because I need to get things straight between me and my old employer, and because I need your help. Help first."