Extracting Mateo Page 7

  “How’s Mateo?” AJ inquired as he stepped through the open door.

  “Other than a killer headache and some bruising, he’ll recover,” Noah answered.

  Asher cocked a brow. “Rae was planning on checking up on him this morning.”

  Noah nodded. “Yeah, she already messaged me some bullshit about seeing him this morning and wanting to make him feel at home while he’s on base.” Noah smiled. “What I really think she wants to know is if he laid into my ass or not about me keeping my career choices a secret for so long.”

  “Maybe. And did he?”

  Noah shrugged. “Not as much as he could’ve.”

  Asher snickered.

  In reality, when Noah woke this morning, for the first time in forever, he didn’t feel the heavy burden he’d placed on himself by lying to Mateo. He’d gotten so used to the feeling; he didn’t realize how heavy the weight on his shoulders had been for their entire relationship.

  “By the way, did I miss a memo or something? When did you make Rae the official welcoming committee?” Noah teased.

  Asher chuckled. “I guess the moment I put a ring on her finger?”

  Noah grinned. “Sounds about right.”

  AJ piped up from her spot at one of the stations. “Scotty wants to know if you ladies are done with your morning gossip. If you are, he’s got shit he’d like to tell you about the person who took Mateo.”

  “He said it just like that?” Noah asked staring at their temporary hacker in amazement at the size of his balls.

  AJ’s cheeks flushed red, and she gave an embarrassed chuckle. “Not really. I might’ve paraphrased a bit and added a touch of my own flair.”

  “Better be careful, you could get your boy into trouble,” Asher warned.

  “But not with us.” Noah winked at AJ. “We’re an equal opportunist and like a pair of balls on a guy or girl.” he snickered.

  Scotty, apparently done and ready to get to work, smacked his hand on the conference desk to gain everyone's attention. Like a light switch being turned on, both Asher and Noah let go of the bullshit and went straight to business mode.

  “Show us what you got,” Asher ordered.

  The lights dimmed, and a half dozen grainy, black and white pictures showed on the screen that had dropped down.

  I hacked into video camera’s security feeds in a twenty-mile perimeter of the warehouse. These are pictures from last night. Scotty sighed

  “All six?” Asher said. Scotty nodded. “Not much to go on, and you can barely see anything.”

  Scotty scoffed before he bent over a projected keyboard on the wood surface of the table, his fingers flew, and within seconds, another image flashed on the screen.

  Noah shifted, moving closer to the clear shot of a man on the screen. “Who the fuck is that?”

  Our bad guy.

  Asher moved in behind him. “You got this from six, unclear pictures.”

  Yes.

  “How the fuck?” Noah said.

  I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.

  Noah looked over his shoulder at a grinning AJ. “Was that you or him.”

  AJ laughed. “That’s all him.”

  I ran it through facial recognition and got a hit.

  Jesus. This kid... He might even be better than Murray. “But you couldn’t get a better picture?”

  Noah glanced at Asher. There was only a handful of time times he and his commander were on the same page, thinking the same thing. This happened to be one of them. The only explanation he had for it; Mateo was the target of the attack. Everything inside of Noah demanded he find the puke bag, who had taken his husband, and bring him to justice. Which meant, they needed more than one grainy photograph.

  I’m still working on it. There isn’t a lot of information about him.

  “You did all this—” Asher glanced down at his watch before continuing with his line of questioning— “in under twelve hours?”

  I had a positive hit on his face in less than five hours in. It took me a little longer than normal because my new clearance allowed me to go places I’ve never been before. I was able to get way more information than I normally do.

  And that was the beauty of black ops. Allowing a person to dig deeper than they ever thought possible. Most Americans had no clue how large and profound the databases of the FBI and CIA actually were. Add in the international groups like Interpol and the amount of information was fucking staggering.

  For a hacker like Scotty, it was like a kid in a candy store.

  Which begged an even bigger question. “Why’d it take you another seven hours to get this information to us, then?”

  I wasn’t done looking. AJ handed both Asher and him a file. Inside those folders AJ gave you, you’ll find everything you need to know about Mateo’s kidnapper. From the moment of his birth until less than twenty-four hours ago. It wasn’t overly thick for having all that information. I’ve detailed what he likes to eat for breakfast, to his sexual interests. In case you’re curious, he’s a heterosexual and has a particular kink. He’s into Objectum Sexuality.

  Noah cocked a brow. He’d been around the block with his own sexuality before meeting Mateo. He’d had ménages, with both male and female partners and had even visited sex clubs on occasion. Yet, he had no clue what fucking kink Scotty was referring to.

  Asher sighed before inquiring when Scotty didn’t continue. “You going to leave us hanging on what that is, Scotty?”

  It means he has sexual relations with inanimate objects. According to his credit history, he has a thing for female sex toys. AJ’s voice faltered, she cleared her throat, as the pink tinge in her cheeks became a dark red. His most recent purchase was an Anime doll. Set him back over three grand.

  “Remind me to never piss this kid off,” Noah muttered.

  “I don’t give a shit about his sex life. I want to know how he knows about R.O.O.T and more specifically, how he knew our team members and why he took Mateo,” Asher said, his tone hard with anger. “Do you know any of that, or, I don’t know, even his name?”

  His name is Dario Breslow and unfortunately as of yet, no. I’ve been unable to find any connection between him and R.O.O.T.

  Scotty tapped on his screen and another, clearer picture appeared. If Noah had to guess, going by the shitty image, it was the perp’s drivers’ licenses. Next to the picture was the guy’s stats.

  Dario Breslow was single, thirty-one years old, weighing in at a buck eighty, and was six-foot one-inch tall. Both parents were deceased. His only living relative, a younger brother was currently a resident at Norwalk Metro; a California state-run hospital for the criminally insane. Scotty had even found a picture of the brother. It was an intake photo from when he was admitted to the hospital.

  Fucking peachy. This guy was a ghost, but from what Noah saw flicking through the file, he had no military background or training. It was entirely possible Dario Breslow was an insurgent or from one of the many countries R.O.O.T had gotten its hands dirty in over the years.

  “Parents? Do you know if they were US citizens or foreign born?” It would make sense if Dario had been radicalized out of the country and played everything close to the vest. It might also answer how he knew Noah.

  US Citizens as are Dario and his brother Hugh. Typical American Family. Hell, Dario has never been out of the country; he doesn’t even have a passport.

  Noah snorted at the young man’s naivety. R.O.O.T moved in and out of countries all the time when it came to solo missions. Most of the time their actions were for show. The passport Noah received when he joined R.O.O.T remained largely unused, yet he carried it everywhere he went. In addition, passports could be faked, and this asshole could be flying in and out of the US under another name.

  I was able to get some information on his parents. Mostly what I found was about his dad. A picture of an older man replaced Dario’s picture. Noah could see the resemblance.

  Noah rubbed at his chin. “What did you find on his
father?”

  A tightly sealed file at the FBI.

  Asher frowned. “You’ve got top-level clearance, and what you can’t get legally, you’re supposed to get illegally.”

  Noah snorted. Everyone always though Asher was so strait-laced. A rule follower. Their Commander was anything but when it came to getting answers for R.O.O.T.

  I’m not being conceited, but I’m one of the best hackers in the world. It’s a fact. And I’m telling you, this file on Dario’s dad, it’s buried fucking deep. Whatever Edwin Breslow was involved in, it’s either a current on-going investigation or so fucked up, no one wants it to see the light of day. Every time I got into the network or close, they’d tag me with a shadow who continuously threw roadblocks or re-routed me to something totally unrelated for my clearance. If I had to guess, Edwin Breslow had friends in high places. Friends who want to keep his secrets silenced.

  Asher grinned, but it was actually Noah who spoke. “So do we, kid.”

  He hadn’t even finished speaking, and Asher already had his phone out of his pocket. Within seconds, it was ringing. Noah didn’t have to ask who Asher had called. The answer was simple. Senator Jackson McNamara, Chairman of R.O.O.T, also Asher’s uncle. The good senator oversaw the day to day operations of R.O.O.T while also watching his nephew’s six.

  None of the teams had realized the relationship between Asher and the head honcho until Senator Lincoln, the douchebag motherfucker, who’d been a key player in the murder of close to two hundred-man, woman and children in a village in Puerto Nariño in Colombia, made a play to kill Asher and Rae. Lincoln, in an effort to save his own ass, informed Congress during his hearings that Senator McNamara was indeed Asher Rainer’s uncle. What he forgot to mention was the fact Lincoln had Asher’s father in his back pocket, tampering with evidence.

  Lincoln’s stunt backfired when the truth emerged. What the media hadn’t heard yet, had been the vote taken in the Senate to start impeachment hearings on Senator Lincoln. Everyone at R.O.O.T had been overjoyed when neither Asher nor his uncle were removed from their positions.

  The older Senator answered on the second ring with a gruff and impatient. “McNamara,”

  “It’s Asher.”

  “I’m aware, boy, I got caller ID on my phone,” the older man snapped, and Noah snorted. “Am I on speakerphone?”

  “You are,” Asher responded, not bothered by his uncle’s attitude.

  “Some warning would be nice, son.”

  Asher ignored him. “You got a minute?”

  A chuckle from the phone filled the silent room. “Son, you and I both know, things with you are rarely just a minute.” The sound of shuffling then movement and a door closing could be heard on the open line. It was a good minute before the senator spoke again letting them know he was secure. “Is this personal or work, son?”

  “Work.” Asher scowled, his tone matched his uncle’s—gruff and impatient. Asher quickly brought his uncle up to date on what had happened with Mateo’s kidnapping.

  “Is he feeling better this morning?” McNamara inquired; the annoyed tone had now been replaced with worry. Like Asher, the senator had a vested interest in making sure all of R.O.O.T was happy and safe.

  Asher nodded, letting Noah know he should respond. “He’s got a headache and a new badass scar on his brow. Other than that, he’s fine, if not slightly grumpy.”

  “Getting kidnapped will do that to you,” McNamara said.

  “So will finding out the man you married ten years ago has been lying about his job the entire span of your relationship,” Asher said nonchalantly.

  Noah’s narrowed his eyes at Asher and mouthed. “Asshole.”

  His commander just gave him a toothy grin, and AJ gave an unladylike snort from the corner.

  “Not a smart move, Noah. Relationships are built on honesty and trust, not deception and lies,” the senator scolded him.

  For a short second, Noah felt like he was back in school, getting in trouble with one of the teachers. “Not one of my best ideas to be sure.” Noah scratched the stubble on his chin. He had no excuse for his actions. Nor would he try to reason them away, even if deep down he still believed it’d been the right thing to do. “I explained to Mattie my reasons for what I did. He might not have liked it, but he understood my concerns. We’ll get past it.”

  “Like Asher, I have all the faith that you will.”

  “If you two are done gossiping like two old biddies, we got shit to discuss,” Asher snarled.

  “It seems to me, you’ve got everything under control, son.”

  “Except, my computer guru is unable to access a file on the kidnapper’s father at the FBI. We’ve been unable to make a connection between the asshole that took Mateo and R.O.O.T,” Asher replied.

  “You think it lies with the father?” Senator McNamara questioned.

  “I don’t know, because, as I said, Scotty can’t gain access. In addition, they’re throwing up roadblocks when he gets too close to even attempt to access it,” Asher stated.

  “Name?”

  “Edwin Breslow,” Asher stated.

  “Excuse me, did you say Edwin Breslow?” the senator asked.

  Asher’s brow furrowed. “Uh, yeah, I sure did. Edwin Breslow deceased. As is his wife Meredith Breslow. They have two surviving children, both male. Hugh is in a mental hospital, and Dario, we believe, is the one who took Mateo. I don’t recognize the name, and we can’t find a connection.”

  “Son of a fucking bitch!” McNamara hissed.

  “This can’t be good,” Noah muttered.

  “It really isn’t,” McNamara stated. “Edwin Breslow was going to turn state’s evidence with regards to the Aquila Cartel.”

  Asher cursed. “You gotta fuckin’ be kidding me.”

  It seemed his commander connected the dots way quicker than Noah had. He was lost on whom they were talking about.

  “I wish I was, son,” McNamara muttered.

  “I swear to fuck with all that’s holy, I’m going to go pull that slimy little bastard out of the dark hole we buried him in and beat the ever-lovin’ shit out of him. Then rebury his ass even further,” Asher said, his tone dark and angry.

  Noah joked. “Ouch, that sounds painful.”

  Asher glared at him.

  “Well fuck, Asher. Clue us in on who or what has set you off.”

  “Aquila Cartel ran Puerto Nariño.”

  It only took those four words for Noah to understand what the hell was going on. The cartel had come to Puerto Nariño the day Barclay massacred the village. There were still several pieces missing, however, Noah could put two and two together.

  “Fuck me,” Noah grunted. “Tell me this has nothing to do with Lincoln?” Deep down he was desperate to hear the words, “no it didn't.” His gut said otherwise, though. With a syndicate like the Aquila Cartel, along with the bullshit Lincoln had been involved in, this shit was a powder keg waiting to go off.

  “I wish I could, Noah,” Senator McNamara replied. “But, unfortunately, it does. Breslow’s family was being protected after he turned over evidence against the cartel. It started a chain of events that changed Dario’s entire way of life. It was ripped apart.”

  Noah couldn't help but hear the sadness in the older man's voice. It made him conflicted. In one breath he wanted to nail the man who dared to lay hands on his husband. Yet, on the other hand, he along with Asher were well aware of the devastation ex-Senator Matthias Lincoln could cause. “Damn it. What the fuck, Senator?”

  Asher glared at him. “Watch your tone.”

  “They kidnapped Dario and his brother and forced Dario to watch as the Capos tortured his brother after they murdered their father in front of them. Lincoln has long been suspected as the one who gave them up. Dario also lost his mother. Her death was listed as an accident. Suspiciously killed in a car accident on the very night her family was being tortured to death.”

  “R.O.O.T had no connection to the Aguila Cartel until two months ago. Wh
y come after us or those we love?” Asher asked.

  “Son, you and I both know, irrational people rarely make sane choices. Regrettably, R.O.O.T has been in the news more than either of us would like.”

  “It’s called black ops for a reason,” Asher snarled between his clenched teeth.

  “This is true. Our connection, right or wrong, to Lincoln, is strong. Add in the bullshit of Lincoln outing us and Rae’s testimony, it’s only been a matter of time.”

  Asher snorted. “I wouldn’t spit on the fucker if he burst into flames right in front of me.”

  “Tell us how you really feel, Asher,” Noah grumbled.

  “You’re extremely calm, considering,” Asher remarked.

  On the outside. Inside, like Asher, he wouldn’t piss on Lincoln if it meant saving the old asshole’s life. “Mattie is safe and will remain safe as long as he stays here while we go do what the fuck we do best at.”

  Asher nodded.

  “I want to see Hugh,” Asher demanded.

  “It’d be pointless,” the Senator said, his voice heavy with sadness. “Hugh Breslow is drugged to the extent he’s barely functioning.”

  “Remove him from his meds then,” Asher challenged.

  “Asher, son, to do that, would be to akin to torturing that boy,” McNamara’s voice was filled with shock and censure at Asher’s request.

  Noah would never call out Asher, especially in front of other team members or his uncle, but he was abhorrent to the thought of Asher’s demand. R.O.O.T did a lot of things, many of them in other countries without fear of arrest or prosecution and never to those they considered innocent of any wrongdoing. The fact he’d been okay voicing his wish, meant Mateo’s kidnapping had bothered Asher more than he’d care to admit. Noah made a mental note to speak to Rae about it later. If anyone could calm and refocus Asher, it’d be her.

  “He’s seen and experienced enough in his young life,” Senator McNamara said. “He deserves some peace, whatever that may be.”

  “How is living in a state-run insane asylum even peaceful?” Noah sighed. “Sorry. Don’t answer that, it’s a rhetorical question. Why are we unable to access Edwin Breslow’s file?”