McKay, Undercover Agent (Part 1)

Cameron McKay is working undercover for the Morwen NYCDA to break band up a of human traffickers. But when his cover is blown and he's captured, it's up to his team to rescue him before it's too late.

Cameron McKay knew he was running out of time. He was losing blood fast, and he knew that if he didn't get help soon, it would be too late.
It probably already was.

He'd already ripped his black t-shirt shirt off and had it pressed against the bullet wound, but it had already soaked through and was practically useless.
But he continued to press it against his left shoulder.
He couldn't believe how this had turned out. He'd gone undercover, hoping to catch the leader of a human trafficking job, but nothing had turned out as planned.

2 HOURS EARLIER

"You look good." Agent Dana Brookes came up from behind Special Agent Cameron McKay, carrying a black jacket and smiling.

Cameron grinned at the beautiful woman standing in front of him. "I don't feel great. I've gotta admit, I've got the shakes."

Dana tipped her head. "You'll be fine, Cam. Just do like Jackson told you, and you'll be alright."

McKay smiled. "I sure as hell hope you're right." Dana stared at the gorgeous man in his early thirties. He wore black combat boots, with black pants tucked military style into his boots, and a black T-shirt. He wore black belt with a gun hanging from the right side and an HT radio on the left. Cameron also had a gun tucked into the waistband at the back of his pants as an extra precaution. No emblem or tag to show that he was one of the Morwen NYCDA.

"Here," Dana said, handing him the jacket. "Jackson said it's to hide the gun."
Shrugging, Cameron took the jacket and put it on, not bothering to zip it at the moment.

Chief Parker Jackson stepped into the room and turned to Cameron, looking him over. "You look good, McKay." Cameron smirked. "You ready for this?"

"I hope so, sir."

"You better be sure you are, McKay. Now get the hell outta here."

Cameron turned, hiding a grin, as Dana followed him out. "Good luck, partner," she said, and left. Cameron stood there a moment longer, shrugged his shoulders, and walked outside.
He stopped at the top of the concrete steps. He could see Agent Harlow across the street near the bank looking inconspicuous.
Cameron lifted his left hand and pulled a pair of dark sunglasses that were perched on top of his head down over his eyes.
He was ready for this.
Taking a deep breath, Cameron walked down the steps and across the street. He could feel his heart beating at an unusually quick pace against his chest. He knew it was because was afraid, but why was he? Agent Cameron McKay had been many things before, but scared had never been on the list before. Why now did he have such a strange sense of foreboding? This job would go down without a hitch. Piece of cake. Not a problem.
But then why did he feel scared? Biting his lower lip, he shrugged it off and focused on the task before him. In his line of work, fear had no place. There wasn't room or time for it.

He could see the man he was supposed to speak with, Jered Gateson, sitting on a public bench, looking through a backpack beside him. "Breathe," Cameron commanded himself. He swaggered toward Gateson, looking a lot more confident than he felt.
Gateson stood to his feet. "Gary Osborne?" He asked, using the alias Cameron had given him over the phone two days ago.

Cameron nodded. "And you're Jered Gateson."

"That's right, boy." He gave Cameron an odd look. Almost as if he recognizes me from somewhere, Cameron thought, but he pushed the thought aside. New York City was huge. No way they'd seen each other before. He was just being paranoid.

"So you're wanting to have a part in my little...business?

"Yep," Cameron said. "That's the idea."

Gateson nodded slowly. "And where did you say you know my brother from?"

"I met him in prison a few months back. He said I should look you up when I got outta prison. Says it's practically impossible to get an honest job after you've been in prison."

"What were you there for?"

Cameron bit his lower lip. "I killed a man."

Gateson didn't ask anymore questions. He was staring at Cameron's face, almost scrutinizing it. "Come with me. We can talk more freely behind the general store."

Cameron glanced over his shoulder and was glad to see Harlow watching them, getting already to follow. Having backup in case he ran into trouble was a bit of a relief. And the fact that he was following this guy into an abandoned alley was suspicious....especially after the way he'd been looking at Cameron. He'd have to keep an eye on Gateson's hands in case he went for a weapon.

Cameron walked into the alley, with Gateson behind him. He hated that he had to look over his shoulder to see him. "Harlow's got your back," he thought, trying to reassure himself. "He's a good guy. Knows how to do his job."
Cameron stopped at the end of the alley and turned around to face Gateson--and the barrel of a Smith and Wesson revolver. Cameron sucked in his breath. S**t. He glanced over Gateson's shoulder, hoping to see Harlow standing behind him with his gun trained on Gateson. But he didn't.
Where the hell was the guy?

"What's the matter, man?" Cameron asked, feigning innocence.

"What's your real name, boy?" Gateson asked, his voice hard, shoving his gun only inches from Cameron's face. He reached into Cameron's jacket, pulling out the gun he had.

"I don't know what you're talking about, mister," Cameron lied.

"Yes you do. Saw your picture in the paper a year or so ago. Something about how you'd broken up some sort of smuggling ring. Now what's your name?"

Cameron could do nothing but tell the truth now. He had no other choice, and unless something had happened to Harlow, he ought to show up still. And there was the extra gun he had behind his back, too.

"McKay. Cameron McKay."

Gateson nodded, his posture becoming a bit more loose and relaxed. "What are you? A cop?"

Noticing that Gateson had relaxed somewhat, Cameron said," yeah, you could say so." Before Gateson knew what was happening, Cameron's hand flew to his back, coming back with a Browning semi-automatic, while at the same time he ducked just as a bullet flew over his head landing into the brick wall behind him, and he kicked out with his foot, catching Gateson on the leg. Nobody would ever said Cameron McKay couldn't multi-task. But Gateson wasn't down, and he was had his gun. He fired at Cameron, he leapt aside as the bullet went past. Gateson took this moment to slam Cameron into the hard brick wall. Cameron's gun dropped to the ground, and he slid down the wall, dazed, as he saw Gateson take off running. But he wasn't beat. Snatching up his Browning, he stumbled to his feet and ran after Gateson. Yanking off his jacket, Cameron took out his HT. "This is McKay, come in Harlow," he said I to the radio as he ran. "Come on Harlow," he muttered when no response came. "Come on." He could see Gateson up ahead turning a corner. Shoving his HT back into its holster, he put on a burst of speed. "Where the hell is Harlow when I need him?" He thought as he ran out of town, Gateson only a few blocks ahead. It was a good thing his work made sure he kept in such great shape. If there wasn't everyday exercising he had to do, there was always jobs like this--where you chased a seemingly never wearying bad guy for twenty miles. A few more blocks, and Cameron came across an old abandoned shack--or so it appeared. Approaching it cautiously, his Browning raised, he kicked the door open. Nothing but dust and cobwebs. No one had been in this place for months, at least. Cameron spun around, thinking he heard leaves crackling, and something slammed into his left shoulder, knocking him backwards onto the ground, his gun flying from his grasp. His vision was blurry, but he could see Jered Gateson standing over him, and it looked like he was grinning. Bending over, Gateson reached down. "I'll take these, if you don't mind." He snatched up Cameron's HT and Browning. "See you around, McKay."

Cameron groaned in frustration and pain, biting back the swear word on his lips. He watched as Gateson walked away, and wondered how far outside of town they'd gone. Quite a few miles, he knew. No source of contact, no way to get back, nothing. He just lay on the ground, bleeding. Pulling himself up a little, Cameron yanked his shirt over his head and pressed it against the gunshot. It was his only hope right now. He'd done all he could do for now, and he let darkness close in around him.

----

His eyes opened, and the first thing he noticed was he was still on laying on the ground, still miles outside of New York City. The second was, he could hear Elvis Presley singing in the distance. Had he died and gone to heaven? He could definitely imagine Elvis wearing wings and a halo and leading all the other angels in song. Totally what he always expected to see when he got to heaven. Yep. Well, if this was Heaven, then it meant he must been a pretty good guy in life--he wasn't in the other place, after all. But as the music came nearer, and his shoulder began hurting again, and an amazing looking Corvette came into sight, he was pretty sure he wasn't dead. After all, there weren't cars in heaven, were there? Even God didn't have much need for a Corvette, did he? And he'd always heard that there was no pain in heaven, and his shoulder was certainly hurting him.
It was then that Cameron realized that the music was actually coming from the snazzy car, the kind he'd wanted to own since he was a kid. Then the car came to a stop, and the driver's door opened. Someone stepped out, and Cameron was surprised to see that it was Jered Gateson. Crap. Why was he back? And why is it the bad guys who always get the hot cars? And women, too, he thought as a very sexy woman stepped out of the passenger side. Was this woman a bad guy too?
No. Impossible. She was too damn hot.

The woman pulled out a handgun from her purse and pointed it at Cameron's head, as if he was going to put up a fight.
On second thought, maybe she wasn't too hot to be a bad guy. Or, at least, it didn't stop her. Gateson approached Cameron and crouched beside him. "Still alive, are you?" Cameron's wound screamed out in pain as Gateson rolled him carelessly over onto his belly, jerking his arms behind his back and tying them too tightly. Yanking him to his feet, Gateson swung him effortlessly over his shoulder. No small feat there. Cameron prided himself in the fact that it took more than an ordinary man to pick him up. He wasn't particularly light, but that was due to muscle. Cameron had muscles that he was extremely proud of and most every girl thought were sexy.

Get your mind on focus here, McKay, he thought, as Gateson carelessly dumped him into the backseat of the beautiful Corvette. The hot girl climbed in beside Cameron, holding her little gun on him. Smiling sweetly, she took a cloth out of her extremely short jean shorts and tied it around his mouth.
Not cool. Why did a girl this cute have to be this mean? It wasn't right. He rolled his eyes, and the girl giggled. Damn. Even her giggle was sexy.
Cameron wanted to ask where they were going, but it was impossible with his mouth gagged.
The hot girl handed her gun to Gateson and said, "he's not going anywhere. I gotta get him bandaged up or he's not gonna make it." She reached over to the passenger seat at the front of the car and retrieved some white bandages, which she wrapped around Cameron's shoulder a few times. "Good thinking using your shirt to stop the blood," she said, eyeing his bare chest. "It could have saved your life."
They drove on for a few hours, and it was getting dark outside by the time they stopped. Cameron was feeling pretty pissed off by now, but he let Gateson drag him out of his fancy car and into a large building. And still in the middle of nowhere.
Gateson carried Cameron, who was too weak too walk, into the building. They came to a heavy metal door with a bolt and padlock on it, and stopped.
"Unlock the door, Jill," Gateson said to the girl, looking at the door.
Jill took out they keys from her purse and unlocked the large door. Gateson carried him down the stairs. Cameron was shocked to see there were about ten kids down there, all of them teens, huddled together, looking terrified. This must be the place where Gateson kept them until he sold them. A hot rage surged through Cameron, and he wished he could get his hands around the b*****d's neck. Gateson carelessly dropped him in front of a tall pillar, and Jill, who had gone off, returned. She was holding a men's dark green olive shirt. "Untie his hands," she said to Gateson, who proceeded to do so.
"Here," Jill said, bending over him and getting ready to slip the shirt over his head. But Cameron snatched the shirt from her.
He'd be damned if he was about to let this girl put his own shirt on. He could do it himself. Once he had, Gateson tied him to the pillar.
"He's not going anywhere," Gateson said, and went up the steps. Cameron could hear the door being bolted and locked. He closed his eyes for a moment, wondering how he was gonna get out of this one.
And the poor kids, he thought to himself. Who knows how long they've been down here.
One of them, who looked to be the oldest, but no more than fifteen, stood to her feet and carefully, slowly, walked toward Cameron. Crouching down beside him, she pulled the gag down off his mouth. "Are you hurt?" She asked quietly.

Cameron shook his head, finding it hard to speak after having a gag shoved into his mouth for several hours. "I'm alright," he croaked out, and coughed. "Are you kids alright? Have they hurt you?"
They all shook their heads.
Cameron looked relieved.

The girl smiled at him in sympathy. "I'm Lana Milford."

"Cameron McKay. I'm a New York detective and I was working undercover to catch Gateson and throw his a*s in prison, but it didn't turn out as I'd planned. " he turned his brown eyes on the pretty young girl in front of him. "I'm so sorry, Lana."

"It's not your fault, Mr. McKay."

"Think you can untie me?"

"I can try," Lana said, and went around to the back of the pillar. She worked for several minutes, but with nothing to show for it but broken fingernails and sore fingers. "I just can't get them. They're crazy tight."

Cameron nodded. "It's alright. You can stop. I'll think of something."