Castoffs

Chapter 8

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Deeks realized he was staring into the eyes of an amoral traitor…one willing to commit mass murder to advance his political ideology. From the moment he'd met him, he'd sensed there was something off about the man. He enjoyed being in a power position too much. He was arrogant and unwilling to take any advice from his own undercover agents. His actions and remarks had sent up a red flag, and Deeks remembered talking to the head of the task force about it, but the man had simply put him off. It was all coming back to him now. The head of the task force was named Ferris, a so-called leader unwilling to question anything, so he shouldn't have been surprised he gave in so easily when someone higher up the ladder insisted Stokes be assigned as their handler.

There were still blank spots in his memory, but Stokes was more than willing to fill them in. He seemed to enjoy it, proud of his ability to have played them all. Some of the things he did remember Deeks decided to keep to himself. Things he knew Stokes had not been privy to. Frank Lozano, his undercover partner had warned him what Mata had in store for him. He'd told him Stokes had encouraged the man to use whatever means necessary to find out if Deeks had voiced his concerns about Stokes to the task force or to his team at NCIS. He'd also shared how much money they'd been paid, as a way to try and flip him. Frank had seemed resigned to his refusal, as if he expected it, then told him Stokes had already bought a yacht with his bribe. A big one, which meant it was probably docked here. That yacht could be his best bet for getting the girls off this island and to someplace safe.

"I can see the wheels turning in your head, Deeks," Stokes said, breaking into his train of thought, shoving the muzzle of the gun deeper into his neck. "If you think someone's coming to save you, forget it. I sent a text before I walked in here. I told them you were dead. And you know Ferris doesn't have the balls or the brains to question it."

"So, what's the plan, Stokes? You're working for the Russians, right? Who's pulling your strings?"

"I'm the one pulling the strings," he bragged. "It was my idea to include the Russians. They're just a means to an end."

"So, you're playing them too? For what? Or should I ask for who? Because I doubt you're in this alone."

"Oh, I have friends in high places who will benefit from my plan and Russia's involvement," he replied. "When I heard about the task force, they paved the way for me to become your handler."

"So, you aren't the only traitor." Deeks said.

"Far from it," he laughed. "Our organization has been planning this for quite some time. Your mission worked right into our plans."

"And the Russian connection? Who set that up?"

"My family has deep connections with similar minded men across Europe," he bragged. "Powerful men who don't like the current balance of power in the world. Shall we say it needs to shift in a different direction."

"Monetary policies included I'm guessing," Deeks said. "And the Russians are in because they could use a major distraction right now, let alone the derailing of all that military aid the US has been sending to Ukraine."

"An unnecessary and unproductive expenditure, but I doubt you agree," Stokes said. "I thought about bringing you in, but I came to realize that you're too much of a straight arrow. Too law abiding to trust."

"So, you outed me to Mata," Deeks said softly. "Why go to all this trouble? Why not just buy the Sarin from Mata and be done with it?"

"And leave my fingerprints all over this thing?" he laughed. "He's my scapegoat, Deeks."

"That's your plan? To use Sarin to destabilize our government by killing off your political opponents and blaming it on Mata?" Deeks was stunned when the man smiled.

"When Washington is attacked and brought to its knees, our organization will point fingers at Mexico and Mata in particular. The country will believe it and Russia will have its distraction and the freedom to continue their little war without interference from our government. And as for me…I will take down Mata and become a hero…with enough money to rise to power in the vacuum left by our attack."

"Sonofabitch, Stokes. Are you really willing to use Sarin on your own people? A nerve gas attack won't just kill government officials, it will kill innocent people."

"There are no innocents."

"You're insane."

Stokes eyes flashed dark, betraying his madness. He struck Deeks just above the eye sending warm blood streaking down his cheek. Roaring with anger, Deeks grabbed the gun, but Stokes slammed him back against the wall, leaving him breathless. As Stokes raised the gun to hit him again, a raw egg hit him in the head and splattered across his face. He yelled out a curse and loosened his hold on Deeks. A split second later another egg hit him square between the eyes, blinding him. As he wiped at the slimy mess, Deeks charged, taking the maniac to the ground, the gun firing wildly off target. He landed on top of him and shoved his face into the dirt floor, ripping the weapon from his hand. He slammed the butt of the gun into the side of his head and felt him go limp. After blowing out a couple of breaths, he struggled to his feet and stood over the unconscious man, wondering if he should shoot him.

"Lucía? Are you okay? ¿Estás bien?" Deeks yelled.

"Si. Si." She said softly. "Are you?"

"Am now," he said and stumbled back, grabbing the edge of the desk. "Huevos? Seriously? Nothing heavier than eggs in the kitchen to throw at this guy?"

Lucía shrugged and smiled shyly.

"Awesome. Gracias, señoritas. You were amazing. Estuviste increíble," Deeks smiled with relief. "Who's your friend, Lucía?"

"Isabella."

"Hola, Isabella."

Isabella never cracked a smile, or acknowledged him, her face a mask of sadness. She never took her eyes off Stokes. Finally, she handed the bowl of eggs to Lucía and walked over to the unconscious man and kicked him viciously in the face. When he groaned, she kicked him again as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I'm guessing he deserved that," Deeks said, making no attempt to stop her.

"What do we do with him, Señor Deeks?" Lucía asked as a few of the girls cautiously came out to see what had happened.

"See any rope in that kitchen?" He asked. "Necesito…rope…una cuerda."

Lucia spoke rapidly and a couple of girls hurried back inside. Isabella continued to stare at Stokes, and Deeks could feel her pain and tucked the Glock behind his back.

"Isabella?" He said gently "¿Hablas inglés?"

She shook her head and finally looked at him. Her eyes were red with tears, but there was also a depth of fierceness there that was scary. She had been hurt so deeply, that he wondered how she could possibly overcome the trauma she'd suffered. She couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen, yet she had endured a constant hell she'd been unable to escape from. He understood, as dark tendrils of his own childhood wrapped around him. She looked almost feral, and he knew he needed to keep Stokes' weapon away from her.

"She thinks he killed her sister, Rosie," Lucía said. "She has one of the knives from the kitchen."

A large butcher knife appeared out of the folds of Isabella's dress. She was gripping it so tightly her knuckles were almost white.

"I can't let her kill him, Lucía," Deeks said, worried that he might be forced to physically take it away from her. "This man has information I need to stop a terrorist attack. Do you understand? Comprende?"

"He is a bad man," she replied.

"More than you know," he said. "Remember what you told me about the scary room? There is a terrible weapon in there. A weapon that can kill thousands of people. This man has plans to do that, and others are helping him. People we don't know. I need him to tell me who those people are so we can stop that from happening. I need him alive, Lucía. Please, explain this to Isabella. Please."

"Can you make him tell her what happened to Rosie?" She asked.

"Once we tie him up, it will be my very first question," he said. "I promise."

Isabella stared vacantly at him as Lucía translated what he'd told her. He wasn't sure she believed what she was hearing. Or cared. She had been pushed beyond her capability to cope, and it made him sad. He needed to connect to her, or this wasn't going to end well. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt or traumatize her any more in an attempt to take the knife.

"Lucía…translate what I say," Deeks said, and began to relate what had happened to him in his own childhood.

When he told her he had shot his father, he saw her flinch. For the first time she focused on his face, now full of curiosity, but also anger. She shouted something at him that he couldn't understand.

"What did she say, Lucía?"

"She wants to know why it was okay for you to shoot the man who hurt you, but it is not okay for her to kill the terrible man who hurt her."

It was a fair question, and Deeks closed his eyes to think of how to answer it. She did look curious about what he might say, and that gave him a small bit of hope.

"I shot my father in self-defense, but I didn't kill him. He had a shotgun and was going to shoot my mom," he said as Lucía translated. "This man is unarmed and unconscious. It would be murder, Isabella. And…if you kill him, he won't be able to tell us what happened to Rosie. So please…give me the knife."

"I hate him," Isabella said in a voice full of emotion.

"So, you do speak English," Deeks whispered with a soft grin. "Will you give me the knife? Please?"

She dropped the knife, and spit on Stokes. She gave Deeks one last look before running back into the kitchen. The girls close ranks as she passed by, one of them holding out an electrical cord. He suddenly felt weak, his emotions raw as he took the cord and turned back to tie up Stokes. Just as he finished, he heard noises and a mumble of voices in the corridor. He pulled the Glock and moved quickly toward the sound, fearing Mata and his men had returned.

"Deeks?" Ramon said as he limped into the room. "You okay, amigo? I heard a gunshot."

"I'm good. You?"

"Yeah. Stokes had a man on his boat," he replied. "Hurt my knee taking him out."

Ramon walked over to look down at Stokes, nudging the man's body with his foot. "See you got the bastard. That his Glock?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Looks like he used it on you before you took him down," Ramon said, pointing at the fresh blood on Deeks' face.

"Had some help. It's why he has egg on his face…literally," he replied with a wide grin as he pointed to the girls.

"Ramon? Is it safe?" A voice echoed out from the corridor.

"Si, Sofia."

Sofia came into the room carrying Julio and holding hands with a little girl with long dark hair. Deeks' eyes filled with tears when he realized it had to be Rosie. Lucia yelled for Isabella as the girls rushed over and surrounded Sofia and Rosie. Their conversations were poignant. He listened for a bit, feeling their relief, and reveling in their small sighs of joy. Isabella pushed through to embrace her sister, crying, stroking her hair and touching her face as if she couldn't believe she was real.

"Is Stokes' boat big enough for all of them?" Deeks asked.

"Si. Si," Ramon replied softly.

"Help me get Stokes over to the cage and tie him to the chain link," he said. "Then you take the girls down to that boat and get them the hell out of here."

"What about you?"

"Mata and Stokes are hiding a batch of Sarin here…it's a nerve gas," Deeks explained. "Stokes planned to use it in Washington DC."

"I know what Sarin is and what it can do," he replied. "What are you going to do?"

"Stay here and try to contact some friends of mine on Stokes' phone…tell them what I found," he replied. "They have the resources to deal with this."

"What about Stokes?"

"I need to interrogate him," Deeks said, reaching down to pull Stokes' phone from his pocket. "But first I need Lucía to show me the scary room."

After tying Stokes to the chain link, he asked Lucía to take him to the room where the Sarin was being stored. She was reluctant at first, but she finally agreed, leading him into the darkness of an adjacent corridor. The building turned out to be a concrete labyrinth of cold, dimly lit corridors and rank rooms full of shadows. Crumbling concrete staircases climbed high into dark, forgotten spaces. They passed by rooms with old mattresses and blankets on the floor, and strewn with broken beer bottles and half empty bottles of tequila. Rats scurried through the garbage left by Mata's men. Not one room looked close to being sanitary. He began to understand why Lucía would call one of them "the scary room", even if terrible things hadn't happened to her there. The whole place was creepy, full of haunting secrets and a residue of fear.

Lucía stopped abruptly and then backed into him. "Lugar de miedo."

"The scary room," Deeks whispered in response. "Gracias, Lucía. Usted es muy valiente. Very brave. You saved my life and maybe thousands of others today. Now go back to Sofia and Ramon. They will take you out of this hellhole."

"Are you not coming?" She asked.

"I need to find that dangerous weapon I told you about," he replied. "And I need Stokes to answer a few questions."

"Don't stay here, Señor Deeks. Come with us. If Señor Mata comes back…he will kill you for what you have done."

"I have to stay, Lucía. It's my job," Deeks said quietly. "Now, go. Vamos. Por favor."

"Gracias, Señor Deeks. Thank you for setting us free," she said, tentatively touching his arm before taking a step back towards the corridor.

"Lucía? These men will pay for what they did to you and the others," Deeks said. "Don't let this define you. No permitas que esto te defina. ¿Lo entiendes? You're strong. You survived. You're gonna be okay."

She looked down at her hands and he noticed there was blood where she nervously picked at the skin around her fingernails. When she looked back up at him her eyes were wet with tears.

"I am different now. Broken. Alone. I have no family. No place to go."

"Lucía…I'm so sorry this happened to you, but…"

"You cannot understand, Señor Deeks," she interrupted. "Promise me these men will suffer as we have. Promise me that."

"I promise."

"I believe you."

She wiped the tears from her cheeks, and smiled briefly at him before she turned and walked away. He felt helpless and angry and inconsolably sad. She was right. He would never understand how men could do such horrific things to children. It was monstrous. If he didn't need to know who Stokes accomplices were, and what their plans were, he would go out there and shoot the sonofabitch with no regrets. But he couldn't do that. At least not yet.

The room in front of him was the only one with a door. A heavy iron one. He tried the latch and pushed. It swung open with a loud screech. He stepped into the darkness and searched for a light switch he knew had to be there. Ambient light from the string of lights in the corridor helped him locate it hanging against the wall. Once the lights flickered on, he saw he was standing in a storage room. Basically, an armory. There were stacks of wooden shipping boxes full of automatic weapons and pistols. One box held several rocket propelled grenade launchers. RPGs. Mata was ready for war.

It took him a while to find what he was looking for, but not before he stumbled over a couple of wool blankets crumpled in a corner. An empty bottle of whiskey lay on top of a soiled pillow. It was a haunting tableau of suffering. It made him gag. He immediately turned away toward a long table pushed against the wall. Two small metal boxes with combination locks sat there in the open. Terror and death lying right there in front of him.

"What now, buddy?" He said quietly to himself. "What now?"