16 - Aim for the Heart, Shoot to Kill
A wave of exhaustion rushed over Carlos as he looked between the two men sitting in the visitors' chairs on the other side of his desk. They were acting suspicious. Tank and Lester had just finished updating him on everything that had happened in the three weeks he'd been away, dealing with an overzealous drug lord for the government, and now they were lingering. Carlos hated lingering. And he especially hated it when there was a yawn crawling up his throat and a lack-of-sleep headache waiting in the wings for him to let his guard down enough to take over.
Probably, he should have taken the day to rest and cross off some of the sleep debt he'd accumulated on the mission, but it was the first time he'd been away for more than a day since they'd moved the Trenton Rangeman office into its own building. Business was coming in thick and fast, which had necessitated a swathe of new staff to be brought on board. And with so many men filtering through the two small rooms he'd originally rented while establishing Rangeman's reputation in the new location, it soon became apparent that the space was no longer suitable to their needs.
The new building on Haywood was seven stories and, Carlos hoped, would one day house nothing but Rangeman, but for the time being, he'd established a command centre on the fifth floor. Including offices for himself and Tank, enough desks for the other men to do their paperwork, a couple of conference rooms for meeting with new clients, and a control room for monitoring the security feeds. The second floor was devised into offices that were rented out to small businesses, similar to the kinds of facilities Rangeman had started out in, and aside from a reception area on the ground floor, there were also a couple of conference rooms that could be hired out on a short term basis.
Rangeman had been settled and established in the new building for a few months now, but it was the first time Carlos had been away since the significant increase in their staffing and client base. He had every faith that Tank could handle anything that was thrown at him while he was left in charge of the company, but that didn't change the fact that Carlos was a certified control freak and borderline workaholic. He needed to get the updates sooner rather than later so he could put his mind at ease.
Unfortunately, the way his cousin and his best friend were acting right now wasn't achieving that end goal at all.
"What?" he demanded when the pair continued to swap meaningful glances. Silently. Wasting his time and turning up the burner on his irritation so it was simmering just under his skin, ready to boil over at any moment.
"There's one more thing," Lester explained, like Carlos couldn't have figured that out himself. For highly trained ex-Special Forces they weren't exactly keeping any secrets about their apprehension over the last bit of news they had to share. Lester's knee was jogging up and down like a jackhammer, for Christ's sake. He was nervous. And whatever it was was either too big to be contained, or he wasn't bothering to contain it.
Both were equally possible of Carlos's younger cousin. Between the raging ADHD and his demonstrated ability to compartmentalise and switch seamlessly between the hardened warrior Carlos knew Lester Santos to be through their army days, and the incorrigible ladies man and jokester from their youth, he'd somehow managed to maintain more of his humanity than Carlos was able to scrape together for himself after the things he'd been forced to experience in the name of keeping his country safe. Point was, Lester was more than capable of shutting down the part of his brain that was taking liberties with his nervous system, but for whatever reason, he wasn't.
Carlos huffed a sigh and collapsed back in his chair, narrowing his gaze on his cousin. "Out with it."
"Vinnie hired a new BEA," Tank said succinctly, averting his eyes to his lap where he focused on plucking a stray cat hair from his black cargos. "To fill in for Byers while he's out of commission."
Carlos cut his eyes from one man to the other, confused as to why this news warranted such a build up. There was obviously something more to it that they weren't telling him. "And…?"
"And sh-" Lester started, but at that second the phone on the desk rang. Carlos held up a hand to pause the conversation while he checked the read out and answered the call..
"Yo."
"I need to cash in that favour you owe me," Connie stated without preamble. This was one of the qualities he respected in Vinnie's office manager; she knew how to get straight to the point. That, and she could easily manipulate Vincent Plum into doing exactly what she wanted. Like getting him to agree to the terms of a contract that favoured Rangeman over his own Bail Bonds business Just so she'd stop complaining about the rattle and whine of the office's air conditioning unit that was well past needing to be replaced.
"So soon?" Carlos questioned.
Connie was part of The Family, so she knew how to leverage a favour for maximum reward. It had been maybe six months since she did Carlos a solid. Six months was nothing. Carlos was still holding onto favours that have been owed to him since boot camp. Either Connie was really in a bind, or she didn't believe he'd honour it anyway, so she may as well call it in. The second option rubbed uncomfortably at his chest. He was a lot of things, but dishonourable was not one of them. If she needed help, he'd help her without question, but this wasn't going to be the favour he owed
"You're gonna question the opportunity to cross me off your ledger?" she asked rather than dignify his question with an explanation. The sass in her tone was thick, so Carlos remained silent, waiting to hear the favour or risk angering her. The last thing he wanted was to wake up with a horse's head on the pillow next to him. "Vinnie's hired a new BEA and I need you to show 'em the ropes."
"He hired a rookie?" Her eye roll was audible over the phone, so Carlos expedited the conversation. A glance at his watch triggered his stomach to clench, reminding him he'd skipped breakfast in favour of getting an update from Tank. "Get him to meet me at the Golden Dawn Diner in half an hour," he told Connie, disconnecting unceremoniously and turning back to the pair seated across the desk. Still lingering.
"So, I guess Connie told you about the new BEA?" Lester asked.
Carlos nodded. His eyes were narrowed as they moved from one man to the other, wondering what else they weren't telling him about the new BEA. "Anything else?" he asked. He had about fifteen minutes before he had to be on the road for the meeting, so if they had any insights they had better voice them now.
Another glance was exchanged and Carlos just barely contained another sigh. It seemed whatever they weren't telling him about the new BEA, he'd have to beat out of them later.
Tank shrugged and made a show of forcing himself to appear more relaxed in the too-small chair. "She's tenacious, from what I've heard, but she lacks-"
"She?" There it was. The idiot had gone and hired not just a rookie, but a woman. Probably, it was some floozy Vinnie was seeing on the side and he'd only hired her for an excuse to see her privately in his office. The guy was an absolute sleazebag.
Carlos could feel his patience draining by the second. The last woman he'd shown the ropes had attempted to seduce him at every opportunity. She was relentless and shameless, all but climbing on top of him to try to get what she wanted. But Carlos was a staunch believer in the old adage 'Don't fuck where you work'. Luckily Jeanne Ellen was a quick study and he'd been justified in calling an end to their training sessions sooner rather than later, freeing him of the frustrating woman as she retreated back to her side of the Delaware.
"I guess Connie didn't tell you about the new BEA," Lester muttered, sharing yet another glance with Tank and only infuriating Carlos further.
Clawing back his self control, Carlos took a deep breath in and let it out slowly before looking to Tank again. "Tenacious but lacks…?" he prompted his friend to complete the statement he'd interrupted with his outburst.
"Impulse control, subtlety, a certain amount of skill," Tank listed.
He changed his mind. If the woman was that green, it was going to take a lot more time and energy to get her to a point where she wasn't a danger to herself or society. This was going to count as the favour Connie owed him and he'd think twice about anything that would put him back in her debt again.
"Dios." He definitely should have taken the day off.
Standing, he shut down his computer and levelled a look at the pair on the other side of his desk that they correctly interpreted as the 'get the fuck out of my office' look and jumped up to follow him out the door. His mood must have hovered over him like a dark cloud as he crossed the command floor, because not a single person called out to him to check a detail or policy. A fucking miracle.
The elevator doors sprang open as he passed, revealing what appeared to be a small jungle that hadn't been there last time he checked the camera feed. He slowed to inspect the man stepping out of the elevator, assessing him for threats. Impeccably dressed, artfully dishevelled wavy hair, eyebrows that were almost as sharp as the look in his eyes as they landed on Carlos. He didn't have a chance to query it, though, as Lester rushed forward from behind him.
"Hildebrand! Right on time!" he exclaimed.
"I've already replaced the arrangements in the lobby. They looked atrocious," the man called Hildebrand replied, one of those sharp brows arching upwards in displeasure. "Those Flowers should have lasted at least a few more days. I'll need to talk to whoever is tasked with taking care of them before I leave. I can't have my babies being neglected like that."
"One of the clients complained that the building felt oppressive and intimidating, so Santos organised floral arrangements in the lobby and conference rooms," Tank explained quietly, stopping at his side. "This guys based in Newark, but he comes highly recommended by one of the night fill guys. He's doing the arrangements for his wedding or something."
"You didn't mention flower deliveries in your report," Carlos pointed out.
"Figured it was on the same level as Ella needing to alter the menu to account for changes in seasonal vegetables," Tank shrugged as Lester led Hildebrand down the hall that led to the conference rooms. "You don't care, so long as the need is met."
He had a point. It was a small change, and would increase the comfort of clients. He could deal with whatever the cost was. "Did you consider fake flowers that wouldn't incur a recurring cost?"
"I tasked it to Santos and this is the solution he came up with." Tank stretched his neck side to side, working out a crick. "I might have tuned out of his lengthy explanation after the first minute."
Carlos glanced at his watch and nodded. "Have the budget and justification on my desk by the time I get back." He didn't bother waiting for a reply. Tank had never failed him before, he couldn't imagine he'd start now. He used the time on his way down the five flights of stairs to the garage, to clear his mind and focus himself once more. He needed all his emotions in check before he met with this blasted woman, or he'd end up telling her to fuck off, and that didn't exactly bode well for his reputation or his life if he reneged on the favour he owed Connie.
Traffic was non-existent on his way across town, so he arrived at the diner early, which gave him plenty of time to secure the booth in the back, request some water of the waitress cleaning the next table and catalogue every other person in his immediate vicinity before the bell over the door drew his attention to the new body in his space.
He froze.
It had been years since he last thought he'd laid eyes on Stephanie Plum, but on every occasion he'd been able to disprove his initial assumption by simply looking closer. There was always something off about the woman. Too tall, skin too dark, breasts too big, eyes the wrong colour, nose the wrong shape. It was never Stephanie Plum.
After a while, he'd stopped seeing her. Which was a relief, because the pang of guilt that assaulted him every time was inconvenient at best, or a life threatening distraction at worst, depending on where he was and what he was doing when the phantom sighting occurred.
But now?
The longer he looked, the more he was certain this was the real Stephanie Plum. Hair, just the right colour and texture he remembered. Height, dead on. Build, maybe a little more filled out than she had been in college, but that wasn't unusual. And when she slowly turned her head to scan the diner? There they were, the facial features he'd committed to memory over a decade ago. And those piercing blue eyes.
He knew it was only a matter of time before he ran into her around town. Her parents still lived in the same house they'd had when Carlos first moved to Trenton in high school, and he found it hard to believe that she would never visit them. Which meant there was always a slight chance. But for all that knowledge, had he actually prepared himself for what would happen when they would finally meet again? What he would say?
Apparently not, because as her gaze found him in the back corner, surprise lighting her features, all he could do was stare.
"Carlos?" she asked, leaning forward without taking a single step forward. "Is that you?"
"Babe." The single, murmured word was wholly inadequate, a fact that was confirmed when the surprise on Steph's face morphed into something sharper. Anger, he acknowledged as she stalked forward, and it was all directed at him. Now would be a good time to say something, do something to stave off whatever she was about to unleash on him, but his body remained unresponsive, pinned to the booth under the weight of the glare that would burn him alive at any second.
"How. Fucking. DARE YOU!" Steph yelled as she approached. "You disappear off the face of the earth for ten fucking years, leaving nothing but a measly note to say goodbye, and you think you have the right to call me Babe?! No! You, Carlos Manoso, are an asshole! You were my best friend, but I didn't even warrant a decent farewell before you skipped off to put yourself in life and death situations for a living! You… You…. Argh!"
Carlos watched as though in slow motion as Steph snatched the jug of ice water from the tray the waitress had been bringing to his table before she started her tirade and hurled the contents in his face, dropped the jug on the table and spun on her heel all in one fluid motion, storming out the same door she'd just entered.
The combined shock of her frosty reaction to him and the cold water must have shut down his brain for several seconds, because but the time he managed to get a signal to his limbs to move, to follow, to give chase, the waitress was bumbling about trying to offer him napkins and a calling for a dish towel from the kitchen. Carlos pushed her aside as he slid from the booth, sopping wet from head to lap, and dashed to the door just in time to see a red Mazda screech away from the curb directly out front.
"Fuck."
"Fuck is right, son," an old man at the table closest to the door intoned, a forkful of bacon poised in front of his mouth. "Looks like you've got some grovelling to do if you want to make amends with that woman. You want my advice? Don't do flowers. I know it's probably your first instinct, but apology flowers just makes a woman suspicious every other time you wanna give her flowers. On the off chance you manage to dig your ass out of this hole, do yourself a favour and don't give her flowers right now."
Only half listening as his mind whirled out of control, Carlos nodded his thanks, and glanced at his watch. There were still another couple of minutes until the new BEA Vinnie had hired was supposed to turn up. Turning on his heel, he marched back to the booth, accepted the napkins the stunned waitress held out to him and sat down, sliding his phone from his pocket and dialling Tank.
"I need an address for Stephanie Michelle Plum," he stated before his second in command had a chance to greet him.
"Everything okay?"
Absolutely not. His whole world had been pitched sideways and he was struggling to claw back the calm control he'd prided himself on for years. "Fine. Text me the address as soon as you have it." He hung up without giving Tank another chance to question him, and slid his phone back in his pocket as he finally began attempting to mop up the water soaking into his shirt.
He wasn't going to make a good first impression on this rookie bounty hunter, but he didn't really give a shit. The sooner he got this meeting over and done with, the sooner he could go find Steph and…
And what? Apologise, sure, but was he going to grovel like the old man suggested? Should he confess the feelings he'd hidden from her? A frustrated growl rumbled in his chest, startling a young girl as she skittered past his table on the way to the bathroom down the hall to the left. This whole situation was a fucking mess.