The Cartel

Chapter XV

It was extremely early in the morning when Kayla awoke to her phone ringing. She glanced at the her bedside clock, which read '3:27.' She too tired to grain or swear, so she summoned up what energy she had to answer the damn phone.

"What?" She spat groggily. It didn't sound as pissed off or aggressive as she would have liked

"Rax, you need to come to the headquarters immediately. I have already sent guards to you. Have they-"

Hard, heavy knocks on her flat's door interrupted the captain of the guards.

"Sadly," Kayla snapped. But why were extra guards sent to her so early in the morning? Suddenly, she was on high alert and bolted up in bed. "Care to explain?" she spoke into the phone as she pulled on a robe over her silky shorts and spaghetti straps.

"There have been intruders," he informed her as she strode over to the door and let the guards in. "They stole security footage from your office, ma'am. Would you like us to search your office? We're in it now, but nothing looks out of place when skimming it over. We're running fingerprints now. Two of my men are dead."

"Don't let anyone touch a fucking thing in my office!" Kayla yelled furiously. "Clean up any evidence of a break-in before people begin to walk through those entrance doors! I'll come right away to look over my office for myself, but no one must know what happened, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am. No evidence left. I'll keep guards stationed in front of and in your office," the captain said, and Kayla hung up. It seemed things were beginning to crumble around her. But they couldn't, not to her, not to The Cartel.

* * *

Carly stood up from where she had been sitting at her dinning room table and walked into the middle of the living room. She stood there, in near shock after listening to what Andrew had to say about the CIA. It made her incredibly happy but also extraordinarily frightened that they would be sending help.

This is it. The end. The Cartel would be finished. But what would happen to her? To Andrew?

Andrew came in after her. "Carly? You're not exactly...very happy." He abruptly turned wary, fearing the worst:another betrayal. It was the worst feeling, somehow even worse than when it happened with Penelope. "You are happy, aren't you?" Instead of wanting to sleep with more women and to just get it over with, like he had after Pen, Andrew wanted nothing more than a simple, truthful 'Yes.'

"No"-for that second, Andrew wanted to kill someone-"I am," she finished, and Andrew let out a breath of relief. "But they'll figure out the truth that I was here-what then?"

"I'll pull a few strings so that while you're being interrogated, they'll let you go afterwards," he promised, taking a couple of steps closer to her. 

"That's cheating," she slightly grinned to herself. 

"That's the CIA." 

At that remark, Carly smiled, relief seeping into her body.  Her joy faltered. "We'll have to go in so that we're not suspected. And if we already are, then we should still go." 

Andrew frowned. Business, business, business. Of course they had to go, but they were within arm's reach from the finish line. Going in wouldn't be a death sentence, would it? 

"We're going to be fine," he promised. 

"I know," she said as if to reassure herself. Then she attempted to lighten the mood: "As long as they don't notice your arm." 

"As long as I don't have to move it, it's fine." Andrew glanced down at his useless arm. Underneath his suit, it was wrapped, but he refused to put it in a sling no matter how much Carly had pushed him to. "That would be too obvious, even for me."