Double Crossed

Chapter 18~Drake

I drive around aimlessly for a while to make sure no one is following me. When I'm positive it's safe I go to the outskirts of the city away from the coast. I drive down a dirt path I haven't been on in more than thirteen years. Moving quietly over the soft soil and shrouded by the tall redwoods, memories begin to resurface. None of them are bad, yet I'm not sure if I'm ready to face them.

However I don't have much of a choice. It's the only place I could think of going to. Even though they're not here, my parents are keeping me safe. I round a bend in the road and sitting there like has nothing changed is our cabin.

I slow down my motorcycle to a stop and just stand there for a couple of seconds staring up at the old thing. Mom and Dad bought it as a vacation spot, and we came here every holiday. It was one reason I decided to move to San Francisco even though I haven't visited this spot until now.

The cabin is a little worse for wear but the aged wood has held up well over the past few years. I walk up the porch that's now overrun by weeds. It creaks noisily as I place my weight on it. I reach above the doorframe where the spare key is and open the door.

Stepping through is like moving back in time. It's like I'm a little kid again, excited for a week of hiking and adventures. The wood pile for the fireplace is still in the corner, ready for the next time we come here. Some of my old toys and Mom's apron is draped across the chair just like we left it the last trip we took. Everything looks the same but nothing is. They're gone, I'm here, and that's that.

I set my things on the floor and sit on the worn leather recliner. I can't take being here, but I don't have a choice. I sigh and close my eyes tight as the anger, despair, and bitterness rise up inside of me. It's not fair. It's not fair that the dad who would hold me on his lap and sit on this chair is gone. The mom who would bake cookies for us when we came back from a hike is nowhere to be seen. They were taken from me in the worst way possible, leaving me with this life.

I don't even know what's happening right now. Everyone seems to be coming after me and I don't know why. If the CIA is targeting me it has to be about more than the files. The worst I could get charged with is treason. They wouldn't break protocol and send someone after me just to retrieve a copy.

I sit up as a sudden thought hits me. Maybe there's something in the files they don't want me to see. I wasn't officially assigned on that mission but they don't usually care if someone wants to help out on our jobs. The department I'm in is a little more lenient, but apparently not with this.

I lean over and pull the files out from my backpack. I haven't looked at these in months. There was so much information I couldn't get through it quickly. By the time I was beginning to make progress I found Mateo. I thought I fixed everything so I didn't bother searching for more answers. Now I'm back where I started.

Leaning back on the chair, I hold the papers up to my face and begin reading. I don't think I've ever read anything so boring before. There's so much unnecessary information and it's all written in overcomplicated words. How hard is it to say the weapons were discovered on a cargo boat? Why do they have to say "the arsenal in question was located on a foreign naval shipment vehicle?" It's so stupid.

After hours of getting nowhere I decide to head out again. It's dark by the time I get into the city. The only people out are those that have things to do, so I'm not worried about being watched. If anyone was following me they should be long gone. I buy some food to last me a couple of days and a disposable phone since I left mine at home in case it was being tracked.

I exit the small 24 hour store and lean against my motorcycle as I call Martin. It rings three times before he picks up.

"Hello?" he asks cautiously since the caller number is blocked.