Chapter 99 The End?
Ranger’s POV
Human nature: Try to be mysterious when trying to be sneaky.
Never works. I learned that from Les. When Les wants to be sneaky, he attracts attention. While you’re busy watching him, his associate is screwing you over and all you remember is what Les was doing. The moment you take your eyes off Les, he gets you.
Someday, Javi will figure out that’s how Les keeps stealing his ball. He already knows how he’s going to lift it. He just needs another NYC man to provide a diversion.
If I were Knox, I would never have tried to board a plane in south Florida, but if I were going to try, I would have taken a flight from Sarasota. It’s an international airport but smaller. Instead, he’s trying to sneak out via Orlando because he expects the Disney-exhausted parents and kids will hide him.
Impossible. Unless you’re in the middle of some huge convention group, you stand out more because you don’t have kids. Parents watch you, trying to figure out what you want and who you are. Are you a child molester? Kidnapper? Something else? They’re tired but they’ll watch him like a hawk.
TSA and airport security assume you’ll act like every other exhausted traveler irritated about being surrounded by a bunch of kids. When you aren’t surly, irritated and mean, you stand out yet again. More importantly, he didn’t have status to avoid the lines with all the kids, so he had to go through security following loads of families and children. He simply stands out.
Sarasota? Clearwater-St. Pete? Tampa? He would have had more success looking like a successful businessman.
Besides, he’s the head of ICE for this region. They know his face, regardless of what his ID says.
So I’m able to spot him the moment he arrives at the airport. He’s looking around, nervous, wondering if he’s going to be spotted. He’s taken vacation leave and he’s been in hiding for the past week. Well, so he thinks.
His wife and children are clueless. They think he’s on a business trip. He’s been bouncing around Florida all week. I’ve been watching his credit cards ping everywhere. He sucks at espionage. Didn’t change his hair color, attempt contacts or do any of the basic things he could have to change his appearance. Grow a beard, Knox!
I signal to the TSA agents to take him into custody when he’s going through screening, and they move in on him.
“William Knox?” He’s startled. “You’ll need to come with us.”
“I’m not William Knox.”
The two agents look at each other. “Sir, you were here three months ago for a training session. We know who you are,” the older one says.
“I repeat, I’m not William Knox and I have a flight to catch.”
“Well, sir, if that’s true, then we apologize but we still need to speak to you. Please come with us.” The younger agent smiles. “Won’t take but a moment.”
They put him in a holding room and take his fingerprints. I call Trent.
“Got him. Orlando.”
“OK. I’m sending the warrant. Thanks!”
I text Tank. Where’s her next stop?
LA.
I lost weight.
LMAO.
An airport security agent approaches and I flash my badge. For the purposes of scoping out the airport, I’m now a TSA agent. I had to make an emergency stop in DC to have this identity created but Madam Secretary found it amusing.
I never fake official badges when the chance that the ID will be scrutinized is high. I either get an official one or I brazen it out.
The agent looks at the badge closely then stares at me.
“Sir—”
“Jackson.” The head of TSA for this airport approaches and the agent turns. “He’s from DC. Leave him alone.”
“Yes, sir.” The agent nods at me and walks off. Williams, head of TSA here, stands next to me.
“He’s in custody. We’re taking his fingerprints. You’re conspicuous here. We have a room for you now.”
“Great.” I follow him to a small conference room and sit. I make a point not to touch anything.
I keep watching until TSA agents walk him out in handcuffs. He’s in tears. I lean back against the wall and sigh.
Williams comes back into the room. “His identity was verified. We’re putting him on a plane to DC now. Will you accompany him there?”
“No.” I nod behind him. There are two US Marshals waiting. “They’ll take him.”
His eyebrows rise. “OK. Well, thank you, sir. Have a good flight.”
Nine months. James White is the last one left, and I’m sure Manny will appreciate the irony of the setup.
I take a cab to Orlando Executive Airport and drive up to my ride.
“Sup primo. Or should I call you ‘Hairy Carlos’?”
“Idiot.” I can’t stop grinning but I catch Les in a hug.
“Such sweet words to capture my heart.” Les tugs on the beard. “Heard there’s an angry mob looking for you.”
“Yeah. The incident made CNN.” Thank god the hotel cameras were shit. Between the fabric mask, the beard, and the cameras, you couldn’t identify me if you tried.
“Yeah. Amazing that no one can identify your face.” Les laughs and I laugh with him. “Where to?”
I raise an eyebrow. He grins, I climb in the cockpit of the Cessna with him, and we set off.
Manny’s POV—Monday
The past few months with Juana have been quiet. Wifey posted me to Boston, so I’ve been keeping an eye on Juana and on Mark.
Mark knows I’m watching his ass. I’m tempted to kill him most of the time but Wifey’s performed her usual work on him. He likes her. He respects her. I can tell when he’s on the phone with her because he’s alert and attentive, taking notes, and thinking carefully about what she tells him. He calls all of his leadership together to brainstorm ideas and get new lines of business open.
At first, I thought my assignment was merely to watch him, but I quickly realized that the active work section of RMBoston was damn near dead. I was stunned and I realized my true job was to help rebuild Boston. So I started working with Vic to overhaul Bonds Enforcement and the bodyguard section.
The numbers are surging and Hal’s pissed. Wifey told me he was pouting in Trenton, grousing that he wants his entire team back now and she needs to stop sending them off to help everyone else’s branch! We laughed but I feel him on that. I’m still working with Zip on branch matters, but the guys have everything under control. Not much for me to help with.
Juana’s improving. I’ve been taking her to Mass General, one of the best hospitals in the country, to get treatment. She’s on my insurance.
As my wife.
We took the plunge and got married. Juana’s finally realized that the house, the cars, the stuff that meant so much to her doesn’t matter without the right person. I finally realized that if I want her in my life I have to continue to court her.
But I’m not Prince Eric. She laughed at that.
She admitted that she kept dating White because he was romantic. Wonderful dates. Thoughtful gifts. He courted her. Of course, he was courting her to keep an eye on her but she didn’t know that. She was being wooed and it was wonderful.
I felt sick. Shit. Familiarity had bred contempt in my case. We’d been together for so long I’d forgotten to treat her like she was precious to me. I have to show her that I love her and I’ve been trying. I’m cooking for her, putting on music and slow dancing with her, trying to be romantic while in hiding. She’s amused by my attempts but it’s working. She’s let go of a lot of her old desires for me so I need to meet her halfway.
I told her to search for a house near Trenton. She’s thrilled. Houses are cheaper there and she’s found plenty of things she likes. Kids are on the table, but later. We’re in no hurry. We’re working on what she’ll do.
She called her boss and right now she’s out on sick leave. She rarely used it, so she has five months of it that she can use. Ranger’s said that if she wants to join RangeMan, she’s welcome. She’s a great investigator and I know Juana; it’s the perfect balance of investigation, field work, and doesn’t require her to pull her gun often. Juana could do what Wifey did in the field. Les and Fernando Rodriguez are excited. I had to remind Nando to calm down. She’d still have to make standards.
I gotta give Steph a new nickname. Now that I’m married, Wifey has an actual claimant.
I’m standing on the other side of the two-way mirror. Trent is with me and we’re watching Knox. He’s scared shitless and he’s crying.
Federal lockup is no joke.
“He should break easy,” I murmur. It’s been a bad week for him. On the run and now under arrest.
“Good,” Trent says, rubbing his hands together. Trent amuses me but I know he’s a top-flight lawyer. He proves it the moment he steps into the room. Gone is the overeager little boy. The ruthless shark takes over.
“Mr. Knox, we could both play coy and pretend you don’t know why you’re here or we can be adult about this.”
Knox looks up, opens his mouth to speak, and Trent waves. “No, please don’t bother. Assume the person you think is behind this sting really is behind it. You think he left anything to chance?”
Knox swallows hard.
Trent flips open a leather folio, uncaps his pen, and smiles.
“Start talking.”
Knox talks for six hours straight. He gives up the entire scheme, his role, and how he got involved. With his lawyer present. I’m amazed, but it’s clear the lawyer is hoping that by cooperating with the government, he can work out a decent plea deal to have his client testify as a government witness. Trent’s having none of it. That’ll be a fight for the lawyers later on.
Knox’s interest started because the infamous Raptor, someone ICE had been after for years, suddenly vanished. No one had any information. No one knew who he was, where he went, or why he stopped. He just stopped one day.
A three year investigation to find this person ended. They were desperate to find out who he was. The charges had a statute of limitations and they wanted to charge him before they ran out. Unfortunately, whoever he was, he covered his tracks well. He never moved anyone else.
The statute of limitations on the only charges they could prove expired six months ago. Knox is in tears saying this. I feel for him there. I know what it’s like to race the clock trying to find a criminal and lose the clock race.
The assumption in ICE now is that he’s dead. Thank god he doesn’t know Raptor has a new clock running.
A clock that will never stop.
Anyway, he was at Quantico for training and ran into White. White was obsessed with RangeMan because of Hector. He was determined to put the case to bed. Problem was, ‘Stop Snitching’ is more than a phrase. It’s a way of life and although everyone knew Hector Gutierrez was behind the murders, no one could prove it.
Hector’s alibis were rock solid. His method left no survivors, no traces, and no evidence. Well, he left evidence once and it was destroyed. Hector got out of the gang, went on with his life and White was beyond pissed.
They had a common interest: righting what they perceived as wrongs. And this is where I diverge from them. Yeah, OK, Hector and Thomas are guilty as hell but two wrongs don’t make a right. You keep that person under surveillance. You keep watching. If they’d done that, they would be arresting both men right now.
Instead, they went after Ranger because they felt Ranger was shielding Hector. They still don’t know that Thomas is, was, Raptor. If Knox had really wanted Raptor, he would know that Thomas was a prime suspect in the disappearances of five former RangeMen. If he really wanted Raptor, he would be in Miami pushing MDPD on Thomas’s alibi.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Knox and White joined forces to take Ranger down. They studied him, learned more about him, and waited for the optimal time to launch their plot. However, there’s no honor among thieves. Knox was a year into his partnership with White before he realized that White was an active gang member. He assumed it was an undercover thing. He didn’t realize it was ongoing and he was stunned and desperate to tear himself away from White, but he was in too deep.
The sting to find out why the state agents were dying was his first hint that something had gone terribly wrong. The fact that no one in the Agency knew about this sting was huge. The Agency hadn’t kept a secret like that since ‘Donnie Brasco’ and every ambitious agent wanted in. This was a game changer. A man could make a serious career off this sting.
Les’s work with White’s own mentees has killed his rep. Damian is now suspicious. He’s pulled his men back from following White’s orders. Ranger reports that they’ve been given orders to retreat to Charlotte four or five men a week. Damian is still meeting with him and listening, but his personal enforcer, Alberto, is watching White.
Good.
Worse yet, everyone they were catching in the sting was guilty as hell. Trent’s been having a field day. This will make his career in the Department of Justice. He told me he has to bring a bat to work to keep the other lawyers off his caseload. All the captured agents have lined up to testify about their activities. They know the law. They know Trent has them cold. The captured gangbangers aren’t talking but they don’t have to. The evidence is overwhelming and compelling.
Knox stayed thinking he would be able to flip White too. He planned to turn state’s evidence against him and pray for a plea deal.
Sad but smart. Trent’s determined not to cut a deal with him. He’s as guilty as White in Trent’s mind. He had knowledge and evidence of a continuing criminal enterprise and said nothing. Hell, he was a leader in it. Federal prison is in his future.
By the time Trent finally takes a break, I’m desperate to pee. Trent steps out and knocks on the door.
“What do you think?”
I look at him and smile. “Someday, when you’re a silk-clad, thousand dollar an hour lawyer, can I still call you for lunch?”
Trent’s grin is massive. “RangeMen can always call me for lunch, but you’re gonna pay. Student loans are a bitch and the government doesn’t pay.” We crack up. He looks at the window, at Knox’s sobbing form, and sobers. “This is why I’m a lawyer. Because his reason was right, but his method and actions were all wrong. He was no better than the men he was trying to put away.”
I nod. Amen brother. Amen.
Morally right, if legally grey. The RangeMan motto, which is why we protect our brothers.
In Knox’s case, morally right but also legally black, which is why no one is protecting him.
Now, to bring down the mastermind. I leave and return to the hotel. Juana’s ready to do her part tomorrow.
She’s looking forward to it.
Juana’s POV
I’m nervous but resolute.
This started with me. It will end with me.
Manny’s holding my hand tightly. This is the first time I’ve been back to DC in three months. He looks beat but he’s determined to bring this to an end.
So am I. I have my folder, I have my gun, and I have the truth on my side.
And I have my husband at my back.
“Hey, Lauren.”
She looks up and gasps. “Juana!” She leaps up from her desk and hugs me tight, nearly squeezing me to death. “Oh my god, Juana, it’s good to see you. I heard you were coming in today but I didn’t believe it. Oh it’s good to see you!” She looks over and spots Manny and her eyes grow impossibly wide. “Manuel? Oh my god, it is you.”
“Lauren. Good to see you.” He accepts Lauren’s super tight hug with a smile. “Look, we need to get in to see Sam. I need to show ID?”
“And declare.”
Manny chuckles and shows his ID. He was nervous about not having any weapons but it’s a federal building. I can carry but he can’t. She nods us in and we take the elevator to the 7th floor.
I step out and the floor is silent. Everyone is staring at me over their cubicles. Lauren did her job well. I’m sure all of Metro DC now knows I’m here.
“Juana.” The voice causes a chill to run up my spine. I turn.
James is standing next to the elevator. There’s a half smile on his face but his eyes are cold. I wish I’d caught on to that earlier, but every man I dated was just an attempt to replace Manny. I was desperate and stupid.
Good things come to she who waits . . . and in this case, gets shot.
“James.” I open my arms for a hug and, after a moment’s hesitation, he hugs me tight.
“Where have you been?”
“Recuperating.”
“Yes,” he says gravely. “I heard about the shooting.”
“Yeah.” I bite my lip. Bastard. “Thank god my husband was a trooper through it all.”
The whispers start immediately. James stills. “Husband?” He looks behind me and I’m absolutely certain Manny is smirking. I turn. Yeah, he’s smug.
“Yeah. Don’t know if you guys ever met, but James White, this is my husband, Manuel Sanchez.” I turn to James. “Manny used to work here in the Bureau.”
“Right. We met.” James is hiding it well but there’s a look of loathing in his eyes.
“Yes.” Manny turns to me. “In your apartment. Dick measuring contest. I keep winning.”
The gasps and cringing are audible. I roll my eyes and pretend I don’t hear it. James is taut now, a firecracker ready to explode. “Thanks. Helpful.” Manny grins and reaches for my hand. I pat James on the back and take Manny’s hand. “Anyway, I’m here to see Sam. Good seeing you, James.”
“I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.” He stares at Manny. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks!” Manny grins. “Can’t wait to see you again.”
I tug Manny toward Sam’s office. “You’re going to ruin this,” I hiss.
“Nope. I’m giving him a reason to stick around. Maybe make some calls.” Manny winks and kisses my cheek.
I spot Sam Douglas standing in the doorway of his office, smiling. I loved Sam when I first joined this office and he was a great mentor and friend. The problem was, the longer I investigated Diego Mendoza, the more frustrated and irritated he got with me. He constantly requested that I drop my investigation, but I couldn’t. I knew something was wrong. After that, my relationship with Sam soured. I no longer got the plum assignments and the assistance I needed on any case I was assigned.
Manny chalked that up to my unwillingness to bust my ass in the range but that wasn’t it. It was because I was poking a hornets’ nest and I didn’t know it. We’ve had it out about that, about his lack of faith in me, and we’ve agreed that we were both right and we were both wrong. I didn’t take the physical aspects of the job seriously, which hurt respect for me in the office, but I had a great service record and I wasn’t getting support or promotions.
Manny’s apologized. He said he wasn’t going to be ‘the Italian asshole’, whoever that is. I have his full support from now on so I’ve taken time in the range seriously to eliminate that argument.
Sam’s standing in his doorway and, at the sight of me, he smiles. “Juana. I’m glad to see you’re up and moving about. Here to discuss coming off sick leave?” He gives me a warm hug and, although I’m here to stick it to him, I’m glad to see him.
“Among other things.”
He moves and we walk into his office. Manny immediately checks for bugs and nods. Clear. Sam smirks. He takes his seat behind the desk and tilts back in the chair. His blue eyes are looking at Manny in amusement.
“You think I’m bugged?” he asks, as if the entire idea is ludicrous.
“You’d be surprised,” Manny replies. We sit.
“Well, didn’t know you two got married, but congrats. Does this mean you’re coming back to the side of law and justice, Manny?” Sam laughs and I’m annoyed.
Manny kicks back and smiles. “Nope. I’m here as moral support for my wife.” He nods at me.
“Sam, remember when I came to see you two years ago about something interesting I thought was worth following up on?”
Sam rolls his eyes and kicks back. “Yeah. Gang banger from Oakland that was making a name for himself on the east coast.” He snorts and looks at Manny. “She has this crazy idea that it was James White, the guy you just met.”
“Amusing,” Manny says, not a hint of amusement in his voice. “By the way, she’s talking to you, not me. So don’t disrespect my wife by verbally patting her on the head in my presence again. She’s one of your best. Act like it.”
I smile at Manny while Sam stares at him in shock. He sits back in his chair and stares at us, then me. “OK. Fine. My apologies, Juana. So? What’s your point?”
I smile and slide the DD368 Request for Conditional Release and the name change forms forward. The missing link I was never able to get. RangeMan got it. Sam puts his reading glasses on, takes a look at the papers and shrugs. “OK, so some guy named Diego Mendoza changed his name to James White. So what?”
The heat kicks on and I’m grateful. My legs were getting cold.
“So, after I got shot, Manny did a little digging. Of course, I’d arranged for him to get all my research if something happened to me, so he had a head start and, unlike you, he took my info seriously. He managed to connect the dots. James White is Diego Mendoza.”
Sam sighs. “Juana, I already knew that. The agency knows. It’s one of his cover aliases.”
I stare at him. “So the entire time I was investigating, you knew I was right?” He nods. “Then why not tell me?”
“Because it’s a registered alias,” Sam replies, sitting forward. “You know the rules.”
Yeah. Registered aliases are kept secret. I can’t believe it. He knew all along. Manny taps my knee and smiles. Not important. Keep moving.
“So you’re aware that the guys who shot me, they were arrested? Baltimore police told me yesterday.”
Sam is quiet.
“And because I was one of your best investigators, I’m sure you kept an eye on the investigation. BPD did a great job. I’m sure you’re aware they gave up an FBI agent as the guy who ordered the hit on me?”
His fingers are twitching. I can see he’s figured out where I’m going.
“Which means he put out a hit on a federal agent. Conspiracy to commit murder. Capital charge, right?”
His hand is really twitching, now. That’s an automatic life without the possibility of parole charge. Possibly a death sentence.
“But that’s not even the interesting part. You want to hear the interesting part, Sam?”
He swallows hard. “What?”
“The interesting part is that my husband took all that information that I collected and passed it to contacts he has with the DOJ since you didn’t seem to care. They thought it was really interesting.”
Sam’s pale. He sees the noose.
“You see, that sting everyone heard about and wanted in on? Well, all the information I had tied into that sting. They contacted me. I’ve been depo’d god only knows how many times in the past month. Inconvenient when your new husband only has one thing on his mind,” I tell him, winking at Manny, who gives me his most innocent, choirboy look.
“So really, I’m here for two things. One, to give you my resignation.” I hand it over. “I want to go work at a place where when I tell them I have a suspicion something’s wrong, they believe me.”
Sam reddens and I enjoy the look of discomfort on his face.
“Two, I wanted to be here when they arrested James.”
“What?!” Sam says. He looks up at the door and we hear the rustling and murmurs on the other side.
Sam gets up and sprints over to the door. Manny grins and helps me to my feet. We get to the door just in time to hear,
“James White, you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder.”
I smile at Manny and watch as my former boyfriend, my former lover, is arrested and handcuffed. I watch as they recite the Miranda warning and walk him into the elevator. The door closes and the whispers explode.
Sam’s dumbfounded.
One chapter of my life closed. I lean against Manny’s arm and exhale. That asshole is finally off the streets.
We leave an hour later. Manny carries me out of the building, since I’m still moving gingerly on the leg, and practically runs with me to the SUV that pulls up. The rear door opens and Caesar, who I’ve met before, quickly maneuvers me into the SUV.
“Yo.”
“Hi!” Manny’s partner is gorgeous and, if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear they were related.
“How are you, Mrs. Sanchez?” He grins.
“I’m fine.” I look at the driver. “Hi, Hal!”
“Hey.” He waves. “Your suitcases are in the back, here are your tickets,”—he hands Manny our tickets back to Boston—”and we have a decoy couple headed to the airport now.”
“Chatter?”
“He made a few calls. Got your fake flight manifest. It’s a shame no one ever thinks about trains.” He winks at me.
We laugh. Hal drops us off at Union Station and we quickly make our way to our train. We sit back in our seats and I smile.
“Did you have to antagonize him?”
“Did I absolutely have to? No. Was it the final nail in his coffin? Yes. Now there’s a hit squad waiting at BWI to kill us and they’ll be met by the FBI and TSA. If the charge he was just arrested on doesn’t do it, that one will. Please wait as I play the world’s tiniest violin for him.”
I hit Manny in the side and he laughs.
“Why was he only arrested on the conspiracy charge? He can get bail off that. He could be back out on the streets tonight.”
Manny’s smile drops and he closes his eyes and kisses my forehead. “He won’t live long, Juana,” he whispers. “Trust me on that. I’d say he has 48 hours, at most.”
