Moth Read online




  TIMOTHY

  Written By Jennifer Foor

  Copyright © Jennifer Foor JMF PUBLISHING INC. 2016

  This book is a written act of fiction. Any places, characters, or similarities are purely coincidence. If certain places or characters are referenced it is for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This book is not allowed to be offered for sale, discounted, or free on any sites not authorized by the author. This book may only be distributed by Jennifer Foor, the owner and Author of this series.

  Sharing this book is illegal, and doing so will grant you the guilt of forever being a douchebag to society. Don’t be THAT person everyone hates. Purchase a copy and feel good about your choices.

  Beta read and edited by the following individuals, in no particular order:

  Kristy Davidson

  David Maher

  Kayla Kennedy

  Emma Clifton

  Georgette Geras

  Danielle Schaaf

  Kayla Teeples

  Amanda Mooney

  Kaci Stewart

  To my husband Timothy.

  You are always such an inspiration to me.

  Chapter 1

  The chime is loud and annoying, and what’s worse is knowing it’s work telling me my night of rest is going to be cut short. While I take a second to allow my brain to function, I feel a nudge at my side. “Are you going to shut that thing up? What the hell, Tim?”

  I cringe every time I hear her call me that. It’s just a reminder of how little she knows me, or how little I want her to know.

  I slap my hand around the bedside table until I feel a familiar object. My eyes open just as the bright screen is inches from my face. A double check of the time tells me it’s half past three in the morning. “Yeah, Agent Douglas.”

  “It’s me,” my director in charge, John Lawson reiterates, even though I recognized the number. “You’re going to need to get your team together.”

  “I thought we weren’t leaving until noon.”

  “Plans change. We need to get a jump on this guy. He’s unpredictable. This case needs to be closed. I’m getting heat about it from above. With the amount of resources we have, we should have nailed this guy a long time ago. We have to be one step ahead this time. I don’t want to have to pull your team from the case. Get me results.”

  I wipe my eyes as I listen. It feels like he’s challenging my authority and the work we’ve done to secure this operation. It’s been painstaking and no one wants it over with more than me. “I’ll be in as soon as I can.”

  “Meet at the surveillance platform house. The chopper will be fueled and ready.”

  The place we use as our secret headquarters is off the beaten path. There’s plenty of room for a helicopter to land in the back without drawing a lot of attention. With crime the way it is in Guatemala, it’s normal to hear the sounds of choppers frequently. Not that it matters. If everything goes smoothly this will be the last time we’re at this location. When it’s all said and done a team will come in and pack all the files we’ve collected. Most are already digitalized for safekeeping anyway.

  I don’t say goodbye well, so I’m already sitting up and feeling around for my boxers and pants.

  The mattress moves behind me, a reminder that I’m not in my small studio apartment back in Miami. Instead I’m bunked up with a familiar chick I’ve known for some time while doing business in her town. Half of my team is still in the states, while a few remain here in Guatemala to continue monitoring the property our operation is focused on. We take turns doing surveillance. It’s important we’re rested up in case of an emergency. I wouldn’t exactly call the last twenty four hours resting, but getting my dick wet every now and again relieves pent up stress.

  I send a group text before standing and pulling my pants over my hips.

  Her exotic accent is difficult to make out since I’m still groggy. I feel her arms wrapping around me as she speaks. “Do you have to leave so soon? We were just getting started.”

  A snarl escapes me. It would be easy to fall back into bed and give her another round of hardcore pounding. It’s all I’m good for and she knows it. I sit then twist around so she’s leaning against me. Her hair is spread out across my lap and I run the back of my hand over it. “It’s work, babe. Duty calls.”

  She seems annoyed. Ali, short for Alijandra thinks I’m an airline pilot. What I do for a living has to remain a secret. Knowing my real identity poses a threat to her safety, and it doesn’t sit right with me. For that reason I keep my badge and gun locked inside of the compartment on my motorcycle. I can’t take the chance of falling asleep and her prying in my book bag being nosey.

  There’s always the chance that she’s not who she claims to be. This woman could be working for the enemy and the less she knows the better.

  Not that I think she’s a secret agent, but being aware it’s possible keeps me in check. My life doesn’t have room for romance or feelings. It is what it is. When I’m in town we fuck. She likes it just as much as I do. “Will you be back soon?”

  I almost flinch a smile. It’s a compliment to my ego when she practically begs for more. “Maybe.” I take her in. Her skin still glistens with sweat from our last encounter. With only a squeaky ceiling fan above, it tends to get uncomfortably hot while we’re getting it on. The scent of her pussy lingers on my beard, forcing an unstable hunger I know hasn’t yet been quenched.

  Her fingers trace my lips. “I’ll make it worth your while.” I know she will. Her smooth caramel skin is like my favorite dessert. Since I’m not around often I treat her like one, savoring every lick, each bite.

  I grab her by the hair and pull her up until we’re kissing. Unsurprisingly, I’m immediately turned on. I know time is of the essence so I come up with a solution to best suit our situation. I pull away and look into her chocolate colored eyes. “I can’t focus today if all I can smell is your pussy on my face. Let’s take a shower. I’m sure we can figure out a way for a proper goodbye.” I shove down my pants as I say it, immediately standing while offering a hand for her to join me. The grin plastered across her face is a telltale sign I have her full attention.

  Only minutes later we’re under a stream of piping hot water in a full blown grope fest. Her tits are a perfect fit in the palm on my hands. I cup them and dive down to suckle the beads of water pouring down her delectable skin.

  Her hands find my erect cock and begin the intimidating task of readying me further. I back away at this point and push on the top of her head. If she wants a reason for me to come back for more, she’s got some work to do to make it happen. Well, she really doesn’t, but it’s fine if she thinks she does.

  Ali has the most plump lips. Not only do I enjoy kissing them, but get the utmost pleasure when they’re devouring my dick. I watch as she latches on, at first holding my ass, and then moving her free hand to traipse over my neglected balls. The tickle isn’t enough to distract what her mouth is able to do for me. While she works I use my hand to guide her to a faster pace. I could come in her mouth easily and be done with it in order to make a quick exit. It’s the right thing to do since I’m cramming for time. Ali’s been with me enough to be aware when I’m about to blow. After several minutes she pulls away and snarls her sexy grin in my direction. I capture her by the shoulders and guide her back to stand only to flip her around and smack her soaking wet ass. The sound of the slap is loud. She turns her head to the side and I catch her biting down on her lip. She likes it this way. I growl and take my rock hard dick in my hand, tea
sing her ass with it. She offers me assistance by bending over. It’s like a green light flashing before my eyes. I waste no time penetrating her asshole. She tightens up as it slides in. The water makes the friction unbearable in the beginning. She’s crying out words that I know are a mix of Spanish and Mayan. I’m fluent, but most locals tend to have their own slang. The more she wails the harder I pound. I’m slapping into her, my balls hitting the underneath of her pussy. I bring my hand around and circle her clit. Right away she’s writhing. The sounds she’s making change. I can feel her hole relaxing as I continue. She’s getting into this. It’s too much to take. I feel my body going into uncontrolled spasms and then my release fills her. For a few seconds I remain inside of her until I regain composure. When she turns around it’s obvious she enjoyed it, though I doubt she’ll be the first to admit it. I take her by the hair and lick my tongue over her lips. “I’ll be back,” I say in my best Terminator voice. She laughs and kisses me chastely.

  “I hope so.”

  When I finally get onto my motorcycle I realize I’ve spent nearly forty minutes longer than I planned to. It’s still dark out, and even in town there’s not a vehicle on the road. I drive like there’s no tomorrow in hopes of making up at least ten minutes. Thankfully when I arrive there’s only two of my team members waiting. I toss my keys down on the table and pour a cup of thick black coffee. They say it puts hair on your chest, but I’ve yet to have that problem.

  While waiting I run through the initiative. It’s important we leave no rock unturned. This has to happen tonight, or else I’m going to have to hear a lot of shit from my director. I’ve never been one to appreciate authority, so I take pride in getting my job done fast and efficiently.

  My director arrives and provides me with exact orders I’m to follow. It’s rare he takes the reigns but I know it’s because this crucial situation can’t be swept under the rug any longer. The drugs we’re after have been seized around a ton of countries throughout the globe. There’s no telling how many accidental deaths have happened from this particular kingpin’s franchise.

  Nearly one hour later were loaded up with the mission delivered. Everyone has a certain job to do that will ensure we all make it out alive. If one person screws up it could be the end of the whole team.

  This is my life. I’m in charge. It’s my duty to keep them safe.

  While in the chopper I look around at each of them. Ground support will be offered once we’re at the chosen drop zone. All communications have ceased in order to prevent us from being detected. We need to get in and remain hidden until we’re prepared to follow through with the bust. Timing is the most important factor in this plan, and I’m determined it’s done by the book.

  Chapter 2

  A short time later, my team mentally prepares for what’s about to happen, while my mind is fixated on an ill feeling I can’t seem to shake. In the pit of my stomach I feel unease, and it’s a serious concern considering we’re about to put ourselves in harm’s way yet again.

  Cowboy, aka Special Agent Shawn Matthews, leans close to talk so I’m able to hear him over the loud noises around us. “You think he’s in there, Moth?” He’s not usually part of our team, but has been offering us assistance this time around.

  Moth. It’s short for Timothy. When I joined the Drug Enforcement Agency there were three people with my same first name in my unit, and another person with the same last name, no relation. They started calling me Moth when we began training because it was discovered I could come out of nowhere in the middle of the night and attack, like a moth to a flame. It’s stuck through the years, and now I prefer it over anything else.

  I answer him with a sense of certainty. “Damn right he is. We’ve made sure of it.” Last week one of our informants, Maria Gonzalez delivered crucial information that Roberto Alizar was flying into the suspected hot zone we’d been detailed to. The compound is owned by a fake corporation we discovered to have been created to move money throughout the grid without actual cash switching hands. The internet has made our jobs a lot harder, and drug smuggling only hits the surface.

  Roberto Alizar is a monster. Head of the Lacosto Cartel, his bonds with local officials have awarded him the ability to operate a continual prospering business, granting him regard to smuggle whatever he needs around the globe.

  We’d raided three of his suspected properties already, only to discover women and children were being used to pack and prepare his heroin deliveries. It’s so damn common it should be considered an epidemic, especially in poverty stricken areas where jobs are hard to come by, especially for women. Most countries don’t have equal rights, so they tend to do whatever necessary to put food on the table. Most of them don’t have husbands to care for them, so drastic measures are implemented in order for them to be able to provide.

  The more innocent the woman looks, the easier it is to slip through international security, so they’re always looking for the young and hungry they can take advantage of and make mules. The woman is of no importance to them, therefore if she doesn’t make it back, they’ll replace her and move on. It makes me sick.

  Known for his trademark logo of a raccoon with crossbones, his drugs are professionally packaged and sealed before they’re distributed. During our last seize they were using taxidermy animals for stuffing and shipping via cargo trailers to locations with nearby ports. They’ll have a liaison waiting at an undisclosed location to unload the paraphernalia before the ship reaches port authorities. We’re not exactly sure how long that plan has been in place. We only recently discovered they were operating and were able to put a stop to it.

  We have on good authority that they’re now involved in a plan to use synchronized drones to smuggle contraband into the United States without being detected. If that happens, there’s no telling how much will slip by us. We’ve implemented a new unit that will specialize in this type of activity, which I’m pretty stoked about.

  We’ve worked alongside the border patrol police, and the FBI in hopes to try and nab this criminal. He’s wanted for over forty known murders. It’s suspected he’s killed his own family members when they got greedy and stole from him. This guy is the worst of the worst. He’s not the first drug lord we’ve taken down, but he will go down as one of the most elusive criminals we’ve ever had the pleasure of bringing into custody.

  Lucky for us, we’ve placed people on the inside to collect intelligence. Millions of dollars have been invested in the capture of this guy. Two FBI agents lost their lives several years ago after being discovered within one of his operations. Since then he’s been a recluse. In the beginning we thought he was just a myth, created to disguise the real kingpins so they couldn’t be discovered. No matter how hard we tried, we could never locate the infamous kingpin, up until now. While his name remains, he stays out of the limelight and lets others run the show. We’ve waited years to set eyes on him. He’s like a chameleon, always changing his appearance and staying in remote places without visitors. All we have are pictures of what he looks like, making our job extremely difficult. Our inside agents have only been able to infiltrate his tight circle on a few occasions, and his second in command is who they go to. We know he’s not the one we want. Sure, he could provide us with intel, but it would be a waste of time. We want the leader of this organization. This guy has always known what we’re going to do even before we’ve decided to make a move. He’s smart and patient, which makes him highly dangerous. He’s unpredictable, and he likes setting an example for others to follow, going as far as to cut someone’s throat while sitting next to him at the dinner table. No one is safe. He doesn’t trust many. If we don’t act now there’s a chance the agents on the inside won’t last much longer. “Maria called this morning. She said he’s flying in on a private plane to a farm nearby. We’re going to ambush him before he can exit that plane. He’ll only have a few of his employees with him making it easier for us to contain the area. Once we have him in custody we’ll seize everything at the compo
und as planned. The other ground unit will be in position within the hour. We’ll slowly be able to infiltrate and seize all of his properties, including the narcotics and people involved with the cartel. Everything is a go.”

  He nods. “Sounds good, boss.”

  We’ve arrived at the designated surveillance platform we’d been using for the past two years to collect intel for our current operation, only to have to take a helicopter and finally an off-road vehicle to reach the drop site. I’d never been one to settle in one place, probably from being a military brat, so traveling for work has it’s benefits. It also carries a kind of danger most people won’t see in their whole lives. After spending most of my twenties in the Marines, followed by law enforcement, and other government positions involving international intelligence, I’d landed a position with the Drug Enforcement Agency. The vigorous training was unlike any I’d experienced. We are the best of the best, having divisions all over the world. My unit is based out of Miami, but for the past several years I’d been back and forth to Guatemala, spending most of my time forcing the hand of my informants in order to finalize what needed to be done for our bust. I’m used to living out of a bag, only communicating with family a few times a year, and basically being invisible for my own security. People in my line of work usually don’t have families, and if they were married it never lasted long. I’d seen my fair share of divorces happening with other members of my unit. There were times where we had to go off the grid for weeks, even months. It was no kind of life for a wife and children to have to live.

  All that’s okay with me. I’m a lone wolf, a recluse. I don’t give a damn about anyone else. I live each day as if it’s my last. The rush I get when I’m staring down the barrel of the gun expecting the assailant to pull the trigger and end me is like nothing else. Putting my life in danger only fuels me to want more, much like the drug addicts I spend every day trying to get off the street. Because of people like me, there is hope that one day the world might be a better place. For now it’s a warzone. The more we think we’re gaining inches, the further away from peace it gets. We take down one kingpin and four more surface. People die, innocent men, women and children. Drugs don’t care what race, or religion a person is. Drugs mean death. That’s the fucking truth.