Page 39 of The Fixer
Jake watched as she nibbled on her lower lip, her frustration evident. “There’s one person who might have what we need,” he said, his voice steady but reluctant.
Lyndsey’s eyes snapped to his, the realization dawning instantly. “Marcus.”
Jake nodded. “If he’s involved—even on the edges—he’ll have information. Maybe more than he realizes. And if he isn’t dirty, he’s going to want to help.”
Lyndsey sat back, crossing her arms. “And what if he’s not on our side? What if he’s working with Lang?”
“Then we’ll know,” Jake said simply. “But if there’s even a chance he’s willing to help, we have to take it.”
She sighed, her gaze dropping to the table. “I trusted him, Jake. For years. If he’s been part of this... I don’t know if I can handle that.”
Jake leaned forward, his voice softening. “Then let me handle him. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Lyndsey met his gaze, and recognized that something had changed—a shared commitment, a flicker of trust. “No,” she said finally, her voice firm. “If we’re going to do this, I need to be involved.”
Jake nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Okay, then.”
The laptop screen glowed faintly in the dim room as Lyndsey dialed Marcus on a secure line. Jake stood behind her, arms crossed, his presence a steadying force. The line rang once, twice, before a familiar voice answered.
“Lyndsey?” Marcus sounded surprised, almost wary. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
Lyndsey’s grip on the laptop tightened. “I’m fine, Marcus. For now. But I need to talk to you. In person.”
There was a pause, the hesitation palpable even through the line. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Things are... complicated.”
“They’re more than complicated,” Lyndsey snapped, her voice sharp. “Someone is after me and my research. The people protecting me think you’re involved, and at this point, you’re either with me or against me, Marcus. And I need to know which it is.”
Another pause. Then, “Where?”
“Cerberus headquarters here in Chicago.”
“No way,” said Marcus. “If anyone sees me and tells Lang, I’m a dead man.”
Jake leaned down, speaking into the microphone. “All right, then some place secluded. You pick, and we’ll decide if it’s secure enough.”
Marcus hesitated again before rattling off coordinates to a cottage just outside the city limits. “It’s remote,” he said. “No one knows about it.”
“We’ll be there,” Jake said, cutting the call before Marcus could say anything else.
Lyndsey turned to him, her expression a mix of anger and nerves. “What if it’s a trap?”
Jake’s jaw tightened. “Then he’ll regret it.”
The cottage was nestled deep in the woods, its dark silhouette barely visible against the twilight sky. Jake parked the SUV a safe distance away, his Glock tucked securely at his side. He scanned the area, every sense on high alert.
“Stay close,” he said to Lyndsey, his voice low.
She nodded, clutching the strap of her bag tightly as they approached the cabin. Jake pushed the door open, his hand hovering near his weapon.
Marcus was already inside, sitting at a small wooden table. He looked older than Jake remembered from the photos—more tired, more worn. But his sharp eyes gave nothing away as he stood, his hands raised slightly.
“I’m unarmed,” Marcus said. “And I’m alone.”
Jake’s gaze swept the room, confirming the truth of Marcus’s statement before stepping aside to let Lyndsey enter. Her posture was stiff, her arms crossed protectively over her chest.
“Lyndsey,” Marcus began, his tone almost pleading. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” she snapped, her voice rising. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? What your name showing up in those files has done to me?”