Page 34 of Renegade

“Yes.” I checked the clock on the dashboard. “I know it’s dinnertime, but could I stop over with my partner now? We’re just leaving our office in Hollywood.”

“That’d be fine. Let me give you my address.”

“I really appreciate it.” I glanced at Raven who could obviously hear the entire conversation. I put the phone on speaker and jotted down Evans’ address on my notepad. “Thank you, sir. We should probably be there in about twenty minutes.”

“Looking forward to it, Mr. Huerta.”

“Please, call me Miguel.”

“Fine then, Miguel. See you soon.”

“See you soon, sir.” I hung up the phone and looked at Raven. “Well, at least he’s willing to meet us.”

Raven turned to look at me and nodded before looking back to the road. “Hopefully, he can tell us something. I mean, he probably knows a whole lot about your ops out there, but can’t tell us much because of how missions are classified, though…right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“He seems nice, though,” Raven said, sounding so hopeful I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by arguing the point. I’d never met a nice spy. Most of them were creepy as hell, perhaps because of what they had to do. I couldn’t imagine having to turn people into “assets” by using threats or sex or whatever those fuckers did to advance the CIA’s agenda. I’d seen too many people get manipulated into providing information onlyto be discarded when they were no longer useful. In the cases of civilians on the ground in Afghanistan, that meant a death sentence if the Taliban found out they were working with the CIA.

I simply nodded. “Jarrett’s a nice guy. It only follows that his father would be also.” I’d let Raven believe what he needed to. I loved him and I was more determined than ever to protect him from all the evil in the world.

Chapter Eleven

RAVEN

Miguel lapsed into silence as we drove to Mark Evans’ house in Sherman Oaks. My stomach growled and I realized we hadn’t stopped to eat anything all day. It had been a ridiculously crazy day, starting off with our meeting with Mr. Aston to our encounter with the dark, dangerous stranger who’d scared the life out of me. If it hadn’t been important to meet with Mark Evans while he was willing, I would have insisted on going through a drive-through to pick up burgers or something equally as awful for our bodies, just to fill the void.

As it turned out, Mark Evans lived in a townhouse on a quiet street in a nicer part of the San Fernando Valley. He let us in, greeting us with a warm smile, and I couldn’t help but size him up in comparison to his son, Jarrett. He was a tall man with striking light blue eyes, and in fit shape for a man in his sixties. He wore casual well-worn jeans and a plaid flannel shirt. The inside of the roomy first floor, smelled good and was decorated in warm autumn colors with tasteful art on the walls. I was only slightly surprised to see an R.C. Gorman print hanging over the fireplace which blazed with a warm fire. He offered us a seat on the couch near it, and I was grateful. Even in Southern California, February was cold in the evening.

“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice,” Miguel said as Mark sank into a padded club chair across from us.

“I’m more than happy to meet Jarrett’s friends,” Mark replied. His face was neutral and I found it hard to believe allthe things Miguel had told me about the CIA when I took in this unassuming and friendly man. He was big and had no doubt held a powerful political position in the CIA as the Associate Director of Military Affairs, but he had kind eyes, which told me a lot about him. He looked at Miguel. “He tells me you’re ex Special Forces, son. I also served in the Corps.”

Miguel nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Mark…please.” He smiled. “Neither of us are active-duty Marines anymore.”

I glanced at Miguel and watched the hint of a smile curl the corner of his mouth. “But we both know there’s no such thing as an ex-Marine, sir.”

Mark nodded. “That’s true.” He leaned back in his chair. “How can I help you? If it’s in my power to do so, I will, though Jarrett told me very little over the phone.”

“I should probably start at the beginning, sir,” Miguel replied. “I’m going to assume that you were active during the most recent engagements in the Middle East.”

I noticed he ignored Mark’s request to call him by his first name and it made me smile inside, knowing that there was a protocol when it came to these things, regardless of Mark’s insistence otherwise.

“Yes, go on,” Mark said, darting a glance at me which spoke volumes.

“As you know, the majority of our ops are still classified, so I won’t go into detail for Raven’s sake.” Miguel glanced at me, and I nodded in understanding.

“Yes,” Mark said as we looked back at him.

“If I may make the assumption that you still have access to classified ops, then you’ll be able to access some details we weren’t privy to at the time of our missions.”

“Miguel, I think there are very few things about that period of time that I don’t already know. Chances are, I was the one who provided intelligence for most of your missions.”

I could feel Miguel visibly relax beside me and it made my entire body flood with relief. Without this valuable resource, it was impossible to imagine being able to confirm any of our suspicions. I brought my attention back to Mark when he continued talking.

“Why don’t you tell me as much as you can without disclosing anything classified, Miguel.”

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