Her Loyal Seal (18 page)

“But I thought you were brought here for my benefit, or did I misread things? I don’t work for free.”

Before Clint or Drake could even form an answer, Lydia was in Sylvia’s face.

“Sylvia, I expected better of you, but I’m saving my evaluation until after our meeting is completed. In the meantime, listen very carefully. Just because you’re a woman and he’s a man, doesn’t mean the same rules don’t apply. I’m allowed to bring eye-candy to butter you up and make the meeting go smoother, but everyone at this table is free and belong to themselves. They will not be coerced or paid to do anything abhorrent to them. Now pull down your damn skirt, you’ll scare the customers.”

“Lydia–” Drake started.

Lydia held up her hand, her eyes never leaving Sylvia’s face. Finally Sylvia nodded.

“She’s right. I apologize.” Sylvia uncrossed her legs, tucked them tightly together and tugged at her skirt.

What the fuck just happened? He looked over at his woman, but she was still staring at Sylvia. Sylvia looked back at her.

“So you’re a friend of Melvin’s too? How’d you meet him?” Sylvia asked.

“I was doing a research paper for my Criminology class. I needed some information on how information was being hijacked out of company Ethernet despite their firewalls and security.”

“Yes, Melvin’s your guy for that.”

“We talked for months, and then he turned me onto the dark net, and all things related with human trafficking, drug trade, and illegal arms. I was interested in the Mexican cartels, specifically Alfonso Guzman, so I focused on drugs.”

“You’re being naïve, he’s got his hands in all of those other pies as well.”

“Not human trafficking,” Lydia protested.

“Is it illegal? Does it make money? Than Guzman is doing it.”

“What’s your angle? I finally figured out Melvin’s.”

“Oh really, what did you figure out about Melvin?”

The waiter came back, and this time everyone ordered for themselves.

“It’s private. If he hasn’t told you, I don’t want to break a confidence,” Lydia said.

“Fair enough.” Sylvia played with the napkin the waiter put down on the table.

“You’re on the side of angels Lydia, I’ve checked out you and your merry men. So I feel comfortable telling you I’m going to retire within the next twelve months. Sylvia Hessman will no longer exist.”

“Why does she exist in the first place?”

Clint really looked at the woman, and realized she wore a lot of make-up.
A lot
of make-up. She had made herself look much older than she was. Lydia was twenty-four, but he was thinking this woman was probably four or five years younger.

“My angle is simple. I make money by following the stock market. All of these criminal assholes have their money tied up in banks and corporations. I watch their illegal business, I see how their operations are doing, I know how it will impact their legal businesses, and voila, I will make good trades.”

Her hand trembled as she reached for her drink. It was subtle, but he looked over at Drake and realized that he had seen it as well.

“If you’re only in it for the money, why are you here talking to Lydia?” Clint asked.

“Sylvia is only in it for the money. Like Melvin I have my own story. Helping Lydia is something that makes the real me happy.” She took a sip of her whiskey and Clint saw her put on a blank face. Obviously Sylvia liked whiskey but the real girl didn’t. Fuck, this was all too confusing for him.

“What should we call you?”

“Sylvia!” Both women said in unison.

“Clint, anything else gets her killed.”

Drake lifted his hand and asked for the bill. He got out his wallet and pulled out a wad of cash. When the waiter gave him the ticket, Drake eyes widened. He handed it to Clint.

“We’re going to be charging it to his suite.”

How could four drinks cost that much?
Then he saw the price of Sylvia’s whiskey. For God’s sakes, she didn’t even like the stuff. He signed the tab.

“We’re moving this party upstairs Sylvia.”

****

Darius was in the room waiting for them. He took one look at Sylvia and he started frowning.

“For God’s sake, you’re a baby.”

“I’m five feet, one inches tall,” Sylvia said indignantly.

“Are you even twenty?”

“I’m thirty.” Clint and Drake both laughed. The girl had guts. Lydia started really looking at Sylvia. Now that they weren’t in the low light of the bar, she saw all the make-up she was wearing. If her hair wasn’t pulled back in such a severe hair-style, then her baby face would really be noticeable.

“You’re the contact that brought us to Houston. The one who is the barracuda who was going to eat Drake alive?” Darius sounded exasperated. He put his arm around her and guided her towards the couch.

“Get your hands off me, Mr. Stanton.” She tried to shrug out of his hold, but it did no use, as he had her sitting at the couch before she could finish her protest.

“That’s Master Chief Stanton. How in the hell do you women walk in these shoes? How do you know my name?” He pulled them off her feet and she let out a sigh of pleasure.

“Damn, Dare, quit manhandling our guest.”

“I know all of you. My business is information. I suppose you were listening to our conversation?”

“Yep, I heard it all. You’re one of the good guys. Or good girls. So we have to take care of you.” He started to massage her foot. Sylvia gaped at him.

“Y’all are bat shit crazy. I just wanted to meet Lydia, make sure she was on the up-and-up. If she was, then I was going to tell her what I knew, and start supplying her with info going forward. I’m not signing up with y’all. I work alone.” The last was said with a distinct Southern accent.

“So did we pass the test?” Lydia asked.

“Yes, you did. These men you’re surrounded by haven’t. How in the hell do you stand them? They’re like steam rollers.” She shot a glare over

“Look, let me give you my information and then get back home. I should have known it was a bad idea to meet with the likes of y’all. I should have just trusted my instincts and done this all online.”

The accent was getting thicker by the minute and she looked so forlorn. Clint crouched in front of her.

“Why
did
you meet with us honey?”

“What I found out for Mizz Lydia scared me. Melvin normally finds out all of the criminal stuff, I find the money stuff. But I found a video hidden away. It was awful.” She twisted her fingers in her lap, and Lydia covered them with her own. She looked up at Lydia with tears in her blue eyes.

“I only saw part of the video before it was taken down. I thought they would trace back to me, but I put up enough walls that they couldn’t find me. I’m so sorry I didn’t copy it.”

“What happened?”

“They tor-tor-tortured this man. They cut him…open. They were pulling…” She stopped and gagged. Darius was there with a glass of water. Sylvia took it gratefully and sipped.

“He died. The man who did it had a mask. He told the camera that if they didn’t tell them the location of Ricardo Hidalgo that this is what would happen to his family.”

“Lydia, I know you, we are part of the same online community. I had to find you and tell you. I had to warn you.” She gagged again. She lurched up off the couch and looked around wildly.

“The bathroom is this way.” Lydia put her arm around her, and guided her down the hall at a run.

“Fuck. Who are these people?” Dare asked.

“What are you talking about? What else would you expect from Guzman?” Drake snarled.

“No, you dumb fuck. Lydia, this Melvin guy, and now this brave girl. Who are these people who are basically fighting evil? I mean we’re soldiers, we are trained for this shit, but they all got involved and they’re right in the middle of it.”

“I still can’t believe I didn’t notice how young she was,” Drake said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “She had me running scared. I was ready to go join a convent, and then I find out she’s just a baby.”

“It’s pretty fucking funny if you ask me.” Clint watched as Drake ripped off the silver tie and pulled off his suit coat. They heard the women coming back from the bathroom. Sylvia looked totally different, all of her make-up had been wiped off, and she now looked like a fresh faced farm girl.

“Where are you from?” Drake asked, playing up his own Tennessee accent.

“Texas born and bred.”

“Do your parents know you’re out this late?”

“Ah fuck, here we go,” Darius muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Shouldn’t you be studying for your finals, so you get to go to homecoming? Does Dad know you’re running around downtown Houston? Who do I need to call? I know you think you’re the big bad, but you are not going to risk your life on my watch.” Drake pulled his phone out of his pocket and took her picture before she had a chance to move. He pressed another couple of buttons.

“Clint, I just sent you her pic, do me a favor and track down Nancy Drew. I want her back home and in bed by midnight.”

“Thanks ever so sir,” she said sarcastically. “Mom and Dad are dead. But the last foster father I had would love to have me back in my bed so he could come and visit. Is that what you want for me? Is it?”

“That’s not where you’re staying now, is it?” That was Drake, never backing down.

“Fuck no! That was four years ago.”

“So you have someplace safe you could be? Somewhere not in the middle of trying to take down international drug smugglers?”

“Yes! And as soon as I’m done giving Lydia,
not you
, my information you will never find me again.”

“Bullshit. You now belong to us. You will be under our care.”

“Are you out of your ever-loving-mind?” She turned to Lydia who shrugged. She turned to Clint who grimaced. Then she turned to Darius who looked poleaxed. She turned back to Drake.

“You are a special kind of stupid, aren’t you Drake Avery. Not only do I take care of myself. I’m the one who takes care of others.”

“Look missy.” A shrill whistle sounded. Everyone turned to Darius.

“Enough,” Darius said quietly.

“He started it.”

“Well I’m finishing it. Drake get Sylvia’s computer from her room. She needs to get Lydia some information.”

“How do you know I have a room here?” Darius raised an eyebrow. Her shoulders drooped. She handed her room key to Drake.

“Don’t let her leave while I’m gone.”

“Shut up Drake, you’ve done enough damage.”

As Drake shut the door behind him, the four of them stood in a circle in the middle of the room.

“I hate being the shortest. I hate having everyone looking down on me.”

“We’re not looking down on you, I promise. You just gave Drake hell, as far as I’m concerned I’m looking up to you.” Clint grinned.

Darius bent down to the coffee table and picked up the room service menu. “Sylvia, do you trust us enough to tell us your real name?”

“Rylie Jones.”

“So you only trust us halfway?”

“Huh? Oh no.” She laughed. “Jones is my real last name. I suppose we have to tell the caveman right?”

“He’s a good guy, just overzealous,” Lydia explained.

“Okay Rylie Jones, what would you like me to order from room service?” Darius asked as he held up the menu.

“Anything that gets out the taste of vomit and whiskey. What are their desserts? Do they have strawberry shortcake?”

“I’ve got Sylvia’s computer, and I want prime rib if you’re placing an order from room service.”

“She’s not Sylvia anymore.” Lydia pulled the computer out of Drake’s hands and put it on the dining room table in the suite.

“Huh, what’d I miss?” Darius was on the phone and Rylie was standing next to Lydia. Clint explained the name change.

“So just go easy on the girl.”

“I’ll be more than happy to go easy on her, as long as I’m assured she is leaving here to go someplace safe.”

They all worked late into the night going over all of Rylie’s information. It was clear Guzman wanted Ricardo Hidalgo dead. By midnight it became clear why he was so intent on his goal.

“Oh my God. The DEA agent that Papa is going to testify against was involved in not just drugs but in human trafficking.”

“Yep. That means if he rolls over, he’ll implicate Guzman not just on drugs but on sexual slavery.”

“No wonder they want Papa dead.”

After that revelation, they decided it was time to call it quits.

“I’m exhausted. I need to go to my room.”

“Are you okay?” Lydia asked.

“Yeah, this was great,” she said slowly. “It’s weird working with others. I’m so used to working on my own.” Rylie gave a rueful smile to the others around the table. Lydia was happy to see Rylie was at least considering working with her and the SEAL team in the future.

“Rylie, we’ll talk about how you could work with us more going forward in the morning. I’ll walk you to your room tonight.” Lydia saw Rylie bristle, but then she calmed down.

“Okay, Drake. What time should I be here?”

“We’ll order room service for breakfast. Why not eight o’clock?”

Rylie went over to the couch to pick up her shoes. Darius was there before her.

“Don’t wear them, just carry them. The hallways all have carpet.” Rylie looked into Darius’ brown eyes and nodded.

“Come on girl, let’s get a move on.” Drake had her laptop under his arm and the door open waiting for her.

In retrospect Lydia realized they should have known she acquiesced too easily. She wasn’t in the hotel the next morning.

“You’re the computer guru’s,” Darius growled at Clint and Lydia. “Find her.”

Lydia turned her computer screen around so Darius could see what she found on-line. It was Rylie Jones’ obituary. It was from four years ago. She apparently died when the small home she lived in with her foster parents burned down. The parents and three other children who were living there survived.

The picture of Rylie looked very close to the woman they met yesterday. She had hardly aged. She’d just turned seventeen when she’d supposedly died.

“Look up Roger Edwards, the foster father. What happened to him?” Clint was already searching through his computer before Darius finished asking the question.