Tate's Quandary

Chapter 1-2

“The eagle has landed,” Tate said, his phone gripped tightly in his hand as he paced the living room of an apartment across town from where the cab had dropped him off.

“Could you be any cornier?” Zavier, his handler at C21, asked.

“Probably, if I weren’t so…tired.”

“Our subjects have been dealt with successfully?”

“One of them. He’s out of the picture for good.”

“Tate…”

Tate could imagine his handler shaking his head. “Sorry, but it came down to him or me and I rather value my life, Zavier.”

“As do I,” Zavier replied. “I’d hate to lose a good operative. Is Gwen with you? I want to talk to her if she is.”

Tate took a deep breath. “No. We ran into a problem and…Fuck, Zavier.”

“What happened?” Even over the phone, Tate could feel Zavier’s panic.

“Apparently someone managed to figure out why we were there. Barone and Hicks were waiting for us when we got to the club parking lot last night. As I said, I was able to deal with Hicks, but Barone grabbed Gwen before she could fight back, shoved her in a car, and took off.”

“Goddamn motherfucking son of a b***h!”

“I’m sorry, Zavier. I did my best but I had my hands full. Hicks was out for blood.” Tate instinctively touched the thick bandages on his side.

“Why the hell did you wait until now to let me know?”

“I just got home from the hospital a few minutes ago. Don’t worry, I’m pretty much okay. As far as the cops are concerned, they believed me when I told them Hicks was trying to mug me and I managed to get his gun and use it on him. But not before he shot me. I avoided saying anything about Barone. I wanted you to know what happened first, but I didn’t think you’d want me calling on an unsecured phone, all things considered.”

“No, but…” There was a long pause. “Find her!” Zavier said angrily.

“I’m going to do my best.”

“Who do you need to help you? Give me names, and they’re yours.”

“No one—yet. Not until I figure something out.”

“She could be dead by then.”

“No. Barone has a thing for her. That’s how she got the job in the first place.”

Zavier sighed deeply. “Why the hell did I let her talk me into sending her with you?”

“Because she can be real convincing and she’s got the body of a stripper.”

“Like you’d notice that,” Zavier muttered.

“I’m not blind, just not interested,” Tate protested. “But that’s neither here nor there at the moment. I have to find where Barone’s got her. Once I do, then I’ll ask for help.”

“Damn it, Tate. The more of our people we have there, looking, the better.”

“I disagree. What I need is people who know the city and I have an idea where to find them. Barone isn’t going to be hiding her in some swanky apartment where the neighbors know everything about everyone. And for damned sure he doesn’t have her at his house. His wife would castrate him. He’s a punk at heart, Zavier. He grew up in the slums. He knows his way around them. I’m betting, and I’m real sure I’m right, he’s got a place somewhere there no one knows about. I just have to find it.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“Get some local help. The kind who is always around, but no one notices them.”

“Do it fast. She’s my only family. If I lose her…”

“I know, Zavier. I’ll find her. I promise.”