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Agent Lawrence looked at me with pity.
“You’ve got two options, and I’m pretty sure you won’t like either,” he sighed.
My eyes scanned the room, and landed on the scene that was replaying over and over on the TV.
We’d made CNN
The reporter, the one I didn’t like because she didn’t support neither the military, nor law enforcement, spoke about the incident that likely was one of the mafia’s ‘biggest mistakes they’d made in years.’
Kilgore, Texas SWAT team consisting of seven men, entered the home of one of the most prominent members of the Russian crime mafia and his wife earlier this afternoon. The SWAT team was acting upon a court order for the arrest of Adam Agata and his wife Stephanie Martin Agata. The Agata’s were suspected to be linked to the deaths of a disabled military hero and his wife. Upon entering the home, SWAT members were assaulted with a hail of gunfire from not just the Agata’s, but nearly five other suspected members of the Russian crime family located in Texas. News is still pouring in on the case, and the Chief of Police of Kilgore PD has declined to comment at this time.
My mind was replaying the events as the newscaster recited what she knew. I went back to that morning as we’d entered the home. The gun fight that’d broken out between the SWAT team and the occupants of the house. The first one to go down was the wife. The second the husband. The others followed in short order afterwards as the shots continued to rain down. And it’d been a massacre.
I’d taken a bullet to the left lower chest and right upper arm.
The others had been luckier, getting away with minor scrapes and bruises among the lot of them.
The reporter’s closing statement shattered my recount as the news anchor finalized her newscast with a potshot at the KPD police department for how the entire situation had been handled.
The entire segment took less than four minutes to report, but it felt like a lifetime.
“I can see you’re understanding what this means,” Agent Lawrence asked softly.
I nodded. “War.”
He stayed silent for long moments. “From the papers we were able to recover from Stephanie’s personal files, she accepted bribes for rushing adoptions and overlooking certain details. She’d done that for all of The Sergei family’s children, as well as nearly twelve other children. What the company had thought a flawless adoption rate turned out to be Stephanie giving kids to people who’d then do some very bad things to them. Some of which include rape, selling them overseas, and collecting the dividends that the state sends every month without the child seeing any of it.”
I wanted to shoot her again. Too bad she was already dead.
“What else?” I asked as I saw he had more on his mind.
“As of right now, we don’t have much more information than what was learned shortly after the warrant was carried out. However, we do know two things.”
“What’s that?” I asked, having a sinking feeling I knew exactly where this was about to lead.
“You’re a target. And so is your entire team,” Agent Lawrence said without inflection in his voice.
I nodded again. “Yeah.”
“Two, your name is the only one that was released. All other names were sealed, and we’ve made sure to keep it that way,” Lawrence assured.
“What does any of that have to do with me?” I asked tiredly.
“There was a survivor.” Agent Lawrence said.
I opened the eyes I hadn’t been aware of closing and glared at him.
They’d all been dead.
“What do you mean there was a survivor?” I barked.
They’d all been dead. I’d checked the pulses of them myself.
Then I remembered something. Something that’d been in the back of my mind all this time.
As I’d entered the back entrance, I’d seen what I’d originally thought was the husband in the room with the child. But if that’d been the husband, who was the man that Stephanie Martin kept calling out to as she tried to crawl across the floor to a man that’d been taken out by one of James’ sniper bullets?
“Took the kid?” I asked.
He nodded. “You were the only one who saw him. You counted seven when the rest of them only counted six.”
A knock at the door had me looking up, and I saw the shiny gold badge hanging off the belt of a man wearing a large cowboy hat on his head.
A Texas Marshal.
“You want me to go into Witsec,” I stated hollowly.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Can I take her? Georgia?” I asked fearfully.
At the shake of his head, I turned to the Texas Marshal and stared, knowing I only had one option. “Can y’all watch over her? I won’t go if you can’t watch over her. If my name was the only one released, my family and woman will be the first one they look for to draw me out of hiding.”
They nodded. “We know. They’ll have twenty four hour surveillance for as long as it takes. And as of twenty minutes ago, you had an embolism and died.”
My head fell back, hitting the pillow beneath with a soft thud.
I felt sick to my stomach.
She’d think I abandoned her all over again.
“Can I talk to her one more time?” I asked. “Tell her what’s going on?”
They both said ‘no’ instantly, and I became nearly dead inside.
Just when I thought I had it all, it all fell away, slipping from my grasp like a paper bag ripping and its contents spilling carelessly all over the floor.
All things that could break, would. It was a law.
The words I’d spoken to Georgia just yesterday replayed in my mind.
More than absolutely anything. More than my own happiness. More than my own life. That’s how much I love you.
I swear to God I wasn’t crying. I was watering my beard. Then I laughed humorlessly. I should’ve known. I didn’t deserve anything nice. Especially something as beautiful and perfect as Georgia.
Then something happened. I don’t know what it was. My head started to pound, and my eyes went lightheaded.
