Fully Loaded Read online

  Fully Loaded

  By

  Mike Ryan

  Copyright © 2017 by Mike Ryan

  This book is a work of fiction and comes entirely from the mind of the author. Any similarities to any person, place, or thing is completely coincidental and unintentional. No part of this book may be reproduced in any way without the written permission of the author.

  Cover Design: The Cover Collection

  Formatting: LK Campbell

  If you enjoy this book please consider helping other readers by placing a review at the website you purchased it from.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Other Books

  About the author:

  Chapter 1

  Jones had been calling Recker’s phone multiple times an hour for the past two days, not getting a response to any of his calls or messages. He was beyond worried at that point. He knew something had happened. Something had to have gone terribly wrong. Whatever it was, he knew it must’ve been gravely serious for Recker to not get back to him. Not only that, but Recker didn’t complete the assignment. In the nine months they’d been in operation, it was the first time Recker did not successfully complete the task. It was supposed to be a relatively easy mission, at least as easy as any could be in that line of work. He was supposed to be looking after a woman who was being stalked and harassed, and had recently received a death threat. The perpetrator didn’t appear to be that serious a threat, at least not for Recker. The man in question had no violent past and didn’t seem to own a gun, not one that they could trace, anyway.

  That’s why Jones was so perplexed as to why Recker had suddenly gone missing. He couldn’t find any signs that Recker willingly left town, or had been taken to a hospital, or had been taken to a city morgue. He checked patients recently admitted to hospitals, death notices, and police reports. He hacked every database he could think of that his friend might show up in. But nothing matched Recker’s description or the area he was supposed to be in. It was just about midnight and Jones was close to calling it a night one more time. He glanced at his phone again, thinking if he should give it one more try to end the night. He dialed Recker’s number again, growing even more worried upon hearing each unanswered ring.

  “Michael, if you get this, please call me,” Jones said in his message. “It’s been a few days since I’ve heard from you and I’m…I’m just worried about you.”

  Jones put the phone in his pocket, knowing his message was likely to go unanswered, just as the previous twenty had. His eyes happened to glance over to Recker’s gun cabinet and a sense of sadness came over him as he started to think about the possible reasons his friend hadn’t contacted him. Most of them involved Recker’s death. Jones had tried to think positively, and for the most part had for the past several days, but now the realization was starting to settle in that Jones had seen him for the last time. Jones shut off the lights and laid on the couch, as he so often did when he was in the middle of a case, so he could get an early start in the morning.

  When Jones woke up, he decided to retrace all of his steps, everything he’d done up to that point, just in case he missed or overlooked something. At nine o’clock, he tried Recker’s phone again, not bothering to leave a message this time when it went to voicemail. He put the phone down on the desk, switching his attention back to the computer screen. After a minute of working, he looked back down at the phone, contemplating the one thing he hadn’t tried yet. He picked it up and scrolled through the numbers, stopping once he saw the number he was looking for. Part of him wondered why he didn’t try it sooner. The other part of him said, if Recker wasn’t there, he’d be worrying another person unnecessarily. Plus, Mia’s apartment wasn’t anywhere close to where Recker was assigned that night. Despite his concerns, Jones figured he had to try it, as he was desperate, and out of ideas. He dialed Hendricks’ number, hoping to get something, maybe even a lead he didn’t have before. Maybe Recker had spoken to her about something that he wasn’t privy to. After the fourth ring, Hendricks picked up.

  “Hello?” she greeted.

  “Ms. Hendricks, how are you?”

  “Uhh, fine, do I know you?”

  “Not directly. I was wondering if you could help me with something…”

  “I’m not helping you with anything until I know who you are,” Hendricks scoffed.

  “My name is unimportant,” Jones said. “What is important is a mutual friend of ours.”

  “I’m sure we have no mutual friends,” she told him, just as she was about to hang up.

  “Michael Recker.”

  “I don’t know anybody named that,” she replied. “I’m sorry. You must have the wrong number.”

  Hendricks then hung up, not sure what just happened. Recker had always told her not to admit to anyone about knowing him, in case his old CIA friends came looking for him. In the event someone did, he instructed her to say that she didn’t know him. If they showed her proof, she was to say he used a different name. She was a little scared and shook up by the call, even though she knew the day might, and probably would, arrive.

  A slight grin overcame Jones’ face, knowing that Recker had taught her well. Though Jones always had his doubts about Recker knowing and trusting her, he always told him that she wouldn’t be an issue. That she would never give him up. It seemed as though Recker was right, though Jones was upset that it had to come to this for him to finally believe it. Jones could’ve just left well enough alone, but something was tugging at him that she knew something. He didn’t know how he’d break through her wall, but had to try again and convince her that he was on the same side. He rang her number again, hoping she’d answer once more and that she didn’t ignore the phone. After a few rings, she picked up again.

  “Ms. Hendricks, please don’t hang up, it’s imperative that I find Michael,” he quickly told her.

  “Why do you assume I know this person?” she asked.

  “Because he’s told me you’ve become friends. He’s the one who helped you with your former boyfriend, Stephen Eldridge.”

  “How could you know that?”

  “Because I’m the one who assigned him to your case,” Jones said.

  “You’re his employer that he talks about.”

  “Yes. Not that I’m trying to worry you, but I’ve exhausted all other options, I’ve been trying to locate him for the past three days and it seems he’s disappeared. Do you have any idea where he might have gone? Perhaps something he mentioned to you in passing or something? Anything?”

  “How do I know you’re really his employer? How do I know you didn’t just find that stuff out somehow? I mean, you could’ve found that out about me and just assumed he helped.”

  “Hmm. That is an excellent point,” Jones admitted. “Let me think of a way to prove it to you. He’s driving a black Ford Explorer, does that help?”

  “What’s the license plate number?”

  “FMJ23…”

  “Who’s it registered to?” she quickly asked.

  “Jason Smith.”

  “That doesn’t really prove anything. You could’ve found that out somehow.”

  “Yes, I suppose I could have. Except I’m the one who bought the truck for him and gave it to him, registering it in that name.”

  “Besides all that, you still haven’t told me who you are.”

  “That is a predicament in itself. Nobody knows who I am. That’s a condition I adhere to in orde
r to be able to do the things I do,” he told her.

  “Well, it’s been nice talking to you, but I still don’t know the guy.”

  “Wait,” Jones hurriedly said, sensing he was about to get hung up on again. He assumed he wasn’t going to get another chance after this one. “What else can I tell you?”

  “Name, nickname, anything that would indicate that you really are a friend of his,” she replied.

  “Well, there is a nickname he has started calling me.”

  “What is it?”

  “The professor,” he reluctantly said.

  “The professor?”

  “Yes. I know it sounds silly, but…”

  “So you really are telling the truth,” Hendricks stated. Recker always told her that if he was missing and someone came looking for him named The Professor, she could trust him. “He’s been saying something abo …” she said, cutting herself off after realizing she said too much.

  “Ms. Hendricks? Are you saying that Michael is there with you?” Jones asked, picking up her on her hint.

  There was almost thirty seconds of silence as Hendricks pondered what to do. In her heart, she knew he was telling her the truth. But there was still a small piece of her who wasn’t quite sure. But she also knew that she’d basically just given it away that he was there with her.

  “Is Mr. Recker OK?” Jones asked. “Please tell me something.”

  Hearing the concern in his voice, Hendricks finally relented, deciding that she could trust him. “Yeah. He’s here,” she told him.

  “Is he all right? What’s going on?”

  “He’s OK now.”

  “Now? What do you mean, now? Was he not before?”

  “He showed up at my door the other night bleeding pretty badly. He’d been shot in the shoulder and was in pretty bad shape. He’s been drifting in and out of consciousness ever since. He made me promise not to take him to the hospital, so he’s been laying on my couch while I’ve been taking care of him.”

  “Is he alert now? Will he survive?”

  “He’s sleeping right now. It looks like he’ll be OK. I did the best I could with what I have to work with. I’m not exactly set up here for a makeshift emergency room,” she answered.

  “Why didn’t he contact me at some point while he was awake? Or if you heard his phone ringing, I’ve been ringing it constantly the past several days,” Jones stated.

  “He doesn’t have his phone on him. I don’t know what happened to it. He didn’t have it when he came. I had no way of contacting you since I didn’t know your number.”

  “I understand. Don’t do anything, I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she objected.

  “Half an hour,” he restated.

  “OK. Do you need my…” she said, stopping when she realized he hung up already. “My address. I guess not.”

  Just as he told her he would, Jones showed up at Hendricks apartment almost exactly thirty minutes later. When Hendricks opened the door and saw him standing there, she realized why Recker called him the professor. He looked like one to her too.

  “I see now why Mike calls you that,” she told him. “I see the resemblance.”

  “Yes indeed,” Jones responded, not necessarily overjoyed with the reference, though it really didn’t bother him either.

  “He’s over there,” Hendricks said, backing up and pointing to the couch.

  “Thank you.”

  Jones walked past his host and went over to the couch to check on his friend’s condition. Jones stood over him for a few minutes, with Mia just watching him, making sure he didn’t do anything to hurt Recker. Though she trusted what Recker told her about the professor, there was still a piece inside her that didn’t fully trust who he was. He could’ve been an imposter for all she knew. Or the one who actually shot Recker and came back to finish the job. She knew that was unlikely and she was probably just being paranoid or from having watched too many thriller movies. She knew it was a ninety-nine percent certainty that the strange man in her house was the real professor, but it was still in the back of her mind.

  “Do you expect him to awaken soon?” Jones asked.

  “Probably. He’s been sleeping for a while so, yeah, he’ll probably wake up soon.”

  “Is the bullet out yet?”

  “Yeah,” Hendricks replied. “It’s a good thing that I used to work in the ER and it’s not my first time doing this sort of thing. Although it’s the first time I did it here.”

  “I guess we’re fortunate that you’re well versed and experienced.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s just lucky he came to me.”

  “I’m quite sure luck had nothing to do with it,” Jones replied, remembering Recker telling him this was one of the reasons he wanted to keep Hendricks close.

  Though he always understood Recker’s reasoning, he never fully grasped it until now. He was right in trusting Hendricks. Jones could see that now. He watched her as she tended to Recker, seeing the care she had for him. It was unmistakable. Either she was an extremely caring type of nurse, or she had genuine feelings for him. Jones guessed it was a little bit of both.

  “Have you been with him the whole time?” Jones wondered.

  “Day and night,” Hendricks answered, pulling a blanket over Recker’s body, up to his chest.

  “Good thing you’ve been off in order to take care of him.”

  “Would’ve been if I was.”

  “You haven’t gone to work?”

  “No. I called out for the entire week,” she said. “Told them I had a family emergency that I had to deal with.”

  “That’s an incredibly kind gesture on your part.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that. He’s part of the reason I even have my life right now. Without him, who knows what would’ve happened with Steve. I owed him for that. This is the least I could do,” she explained.

  “I can see he’s getting the best of care under the circumstances.”

  “Well, like I said, I’m not set up for major emergencies. I keep a box of basic equipment and supplies just in case. I’m doing the best I can for him.”

  “And you’ve done that.”

  “When he came in, he made me promise that I wouldn’t take him anywhere or have someone come look at him. He said if I couldn’t fix him up to just let him go. The biggest issue was the risk of infection and the amount of blood loss he sustained. It looked like he’d been bleeding for quite a while.”

  “Did he happen to say what happened or who shot him?” Jones wondered.

  “Hasn’t said much of anything. He’s been very weak with the amount of blood he lost.”

  Hendricks yawned and rubbed her eyes, the result of not getting much sleep in the few days that Recker had been in her care. Jones could see that she was exhausted. She had that tired look about her.

  “You look exhausted,” Jones said.

  Hendricks looked at him and smiled before sitting in a chair. “Yeah. You kind of get used to it in my profession though. Long hours are part of the deal sometimes. You learn to push through it.”

  “Is there anything I can get you?”

  “No, I’m OK. Thank you though. It’s nice of you to ask.”

  Jones looked back at Recker, not sure what else he could do there. It seemed as if he was getting the best of care under the circumstances. Until he awoke, he wasn’t sure there was any other reason for him to be there.

  “Well, I can see you’re doing everything possible for him so I won’t stand in your way anymore,” Jones said. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to come back around lunch time, see if he’s up yet.”

  “That should be fine.”

  “Great. I’ll bring lunch.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

  “On the contrary, you’ve done a wonderful job here, I can see you’re exhausted and probably haven’t had much time for yourself. It’d be my pleasure.”

  “OK, well, if you insis
t.”

  “Turkey BLT with French fries on the side sound good?” Jones asked, knowing from her file that was one of her favorite sandwiches.

  “Uhh, yeah, I would actually love that. That’s actually one of my favorites. Did you already know that somehow?” she wondered.

  Jones showed a small grin on his face. “Must be a lucky guess on my part.”

  Jones then left the apartment and went back to the office. At least now he felt a small sense of relief. Though they still had to deal with Recker’s injuries, Jones knew he was alive and would be up and around soon. The bigger issue would be in determining what happened to him. Whether getting shot was a mistake, or whether Recker was actually targeted somehow. Those would be questions that couldn’t be answered until he spoke with Recker directly though. Finally knowing that Recker was OK, Jones was actually able to get some work done. It was the first time in days that he was able to concentrate on work without getting distracted by wondering about Recker’s health.

  A little after twelve, just as he said he would, Jones dropped what he was doing in order to go visit Recker again. He stopped for some food and sandwiches along the way, including Hendricks’ favorite. Once he got to Mia’s apartment, he saw her warm smile greeting him as he brought in bags of food, one in each hand. As soon as he stepped inside, Jones noticed Recker sitting up on the couch, looking alert and well rested.

  “Well…it’s good to see you’ve finally rejoined the ranks of the living,” Jones mentioned.

  Recker smiled. “Good to see you too.”

  “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”

  “I’ve been up for a while,” Recker said. “Mia told me you came by this morning. Got a sandwich there for me?”

  Jones looked over at him as he put the bags down on the kitchen table. “It just so happens that I do. I was anticipating you being awake and hungry. Well, maybe hoping more than anticipating.”

  “He woke up about an hour after you left this morning,” Hendricks told him. “I would’ve called you and let you know but you didn’t leave your number.”