Page 17
Story: Finding Fate
He turns on the bench to face me, urging me to continue with a pointed look and raised brows.
"After the initial emails, once they knew 'Faith' had bought into their lie of a better life, they asked for proof of age and lack of sexual activity. So I got one."
"How did you—"
"I just changed up a few things on the information I found on my sister’s online history. It helped that I knew they would be asking for it, so I was able to get a head start on finding a doctor who would vouch for me. And by vouch, I mean lie after I blackmailed him." Pursing my lips to suppress the smile that wants to grow, I turn away from Matt.
Am I proud of the blackmailing? Well yeah. He deserved it.
"Blackmail sounds very illegal, Fate."
I shrug and tuck my legs to my chest, wrapping Matt’s large jacket around them. "It was warranted, promise. Knowing I needed the form verified, I scoured a few of the sites we’ve recently found predators using and found this one doctor who’s into younger than legal age boys. I used that information to make sure he was willing to sign whatever I asked him to."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Matt staring, processing.
"Wait. We just arrested an orthopedic doctor in Fairfax who...." I nod and rest my chin on my knees. "You gave us the information anyway?"
"He's a predator, so yeah. And technically I didn't send the information to our unit. The mom of one of the boys he targeted sent it. She just doesn't realize it yet." I need to get this conversation back on topic before he starts wondering what other predators I've found on my own and sent their way. "Besides the tracker, what else do they want?"
"Time frame. How long do you need before they send their people in to extract you and the general?"
I turn to face him, confusion clearly written on my features. "Their people?"
"Yeah, it won't be anyone directly tied to the CIA. That's too messy and visible for those bastards. I'm sure some outsourced gun-for-hire firm will be the ones to make the extraction."
"Oh." Not sure why, but it bothers me that the CIA says they’re willing to help but yet they don't seem to be doing anything except ordering people around. "Four weeks." Matt's eyes widen. "I know it sounds like a long time, and I'm sure it’ll seem longer once I'm over there, but we have to be sure the general is there before anyone comes to get me. Get us. His pattern is the first couple of weeks he lets them sit, waiting for him like he's some kind of prize. Then he holds them for their 'training' for four to six weeks before killing them. I'm betting the general will be there somewhere between the two- and four-week mark."
Still staring, he shakes his head. "I'm not sure they, or I for that matter, will agree to that. Four weeks is a long time. Especially for someone who has no formal training like you. He could kill you."
"I understand the stakes."
"You're upset and want revenge but not like—"
"Four weeks," I say firmly.
He sighs and runs a hand over his cropped dark hair. "Have you thought about the other men? What will you do if one of his men forces themselves on you before the general even gets there?"
Dobby drops a random ball in my lap and jogs off a few paces before turning with an expectant look. "They won't. If anyone hurts me, it’ll be the general. As long as I'm his chosen bride, I'll be okay. Until he gets there, of course."
"You seem to have this all figured out," Matt says begrudgingly.
I shrug and toss the soggy ball as hard as I can. Dobby takes off, smiling. "I've had a long time to think and plan. I get it’s sudden for y'all, but it's not for me. I've been working on this since...." I can't finish the sentence. Instead, I clear my throat of the emotions threatening to bubble up. "It's why I came to DC. It's why I have zero life. Revenge is my life. I know it’s not the best plan, but at least it’s a plan. Those CIA bastards sat there doing nothing. Three months ago, I informed them of a group of local girls who were kidnapped, raped, and murdered by the general’s troops. And nothing has been done. All their victims deserve justice."
My hands tremble at the restrained anger and rage building in my veins. No, Matt has no idea how dedicated I am to this vengeance mission. Hell, maybe I don’t even realize that this festering anger has driven me to near insanity. Because looking at this plan, hearing their logic, it is insane.
Too late.
A hand rests on my shoulder and tightens. Sometime during my rant, Matt scooted down the bench and now presses against my right side. It's nerve-racking and comforting at the same time. A reassuring touch is something I’ve been lacking for a while. I lean into him instead of away, now eager to accept his comfort.
His hand wraps to my other shoulder to hold me tighter to him. "Okay, Fate. We'll make it work so the victims get justice and you come home safe. We'll figure it out. But I need to ask you something."
I try to pull away to look up at him without being nose-to-nose, but his hold only tightens.
"Why not stay here? With me. And maybe you could see me as someone other than your boss."
My brows furrow. "Like a friend?"
I swear his cheeks flush before he turns, shielding his face. His hold shifts from comforting to awkward.
"After the initial emails, once they knew 'Faith' had bought into their lie of a better life, they asked for proof of age and lack of sexual activity. So I got one."
"How did you—"
"I just changed up a few things on the information I found on my sister’s online history. It helped that I knew they would be asking for it, so I was able to get a head start on finding a doctor who would vouch for me. And by vouch, I mean lie after I blackmailed him." Pursing my lips to suppress the smile that wants to grow, I turn away from Matt.
Am I proud of the blackmailing? Well yeah. He deserved it.
"Blackmail sounds very illegal, Fate."
I shrug and tuck my legs to my chest, wrapping Matt’s large jacket around them. "It was warranted, promise. Knowing I needed the form verified, I scoured a few of the sites we’ve recently found predators using and found this one doctor who’s into younger than legal age boys. I used that information to make sure he was willing to sign whatever I asked him to."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Matt staring, processing.
"Wait. We just arrested an orthopedic doctor in Fairfax who...." I nod and rest my chin on my knees. "You gave us the information anyway?"
"He's a predator, so yeah. And technically I didn't send the information to our unit. The mom of one of the boys he targeted sent it. She just doesn't realize it yet." I need to get this conversation back on topic before he starts wondering what other predators I've found on my own and sent their way. "Besides the tracker, what else do they want?"
"Time frame. How long do you need before they send their people in to extract you and the general?"
I turn to face him, confusion clearly written on my features. "Their people?"
"Yeah, it won't be anyone directly tied to the CIA. That's too messy and visible for those bastards. I'm sure some outsourced gun-for-hire firm will be the ones to make the extraction."
"Oh." Not sure why, but it bothers me that the CIA says they’re willing to help but yet they don't seem to be doing anything except ordering people around. "Four weeks." Matt's eyes widen. "I know it sounds like a long time, and I'm sure it’ll seem longer once I'm over there, but we have to be sure the general is there before anyone comes to get me. Get us. His pattern is the first couple of weeks he lets them sit, waiting for him like he's some kind of prize. Then he holds them for their 'training' for four to six weeks before killing them. I'm betting the general will be there somewhere between the two- and four-week mark."
Still staring, he shakes his head. "I'm not sure they, or I for that matter, will agree to that. Four weeks is a long time. Especially for someone who has no formal training like you. He could kill you."
"I understand the stakes."
"You're upset and want revenge but not like—"
"Four weeks," I say firmly.
He sighs and runs a hand over his cropped dark hair. "Have you thought about the other men? What will you do if one of his men forces themselves on you before the general even gets there?"
Dobby drops a random ball in my lap and jogs off a few paces before turning with an expectant look. "They won't. If anyone hurts me, it’ll be the general. As long as I'm his chosen bride, I'll be okay. Until he gets there, of course."
"You seem to have this all figured out," Matt says begrudgingly.
I shrug and toss the soggy ball as hard as I can. Dobby takes off, smiling. "I've had a long time to think and plan. I get it’s sudden for y'all, but it's not for me. I've been working on this since...." I can't finish the sentence. Instead, I clear my throat of the emotions threatening to bubble up. "It's why I came to DC. It's why I have zero life. Revenge is my life. I know it’s not the best plan, but at least it’s a plan. Those CIA bastards sat there doing nothing. Three months ago, I informed them of a group of local girls who were kidnapped, raped, and murdered by the general’s troops. And nothing has been done. All their victims deserve justice."
My hands tremble at the restrained anger and rage building in my veins. No, Matt has no idea how dedicated I am to this vengeance mission. Hell, maybe I don’t even realize that this festering anger has driven me to near insanity. Because looking at this plan, hearing their logic, it is insane.
Too late.
A hand rests on my shoulder and tightens. Sometime during my rant, Matt scooted down the bench and now presses against my right side. It's nerve-racking and comforting at the same time. A reassuring touch is something I’ve been lacking for a while. I lean into him instead of away, now eager to accept his comfort.
His hand wraps to my other shoulder to hold me tighter to him. "Okay, Fate. We'll make it work so the victims get justice and you come home safe. We'll figure it out. But I need to ask you something."
I try to pull away to look up at him without being nose-to-nose, but his hold only tightens.
"Why not stay here? With me. And maybe you could see me as someone other than your boss."
My brows furrow. "Like a friend?"
I swear his cheeks flush before he turns, shielding his face. His hold shifts from comforting to awkward.
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