Chapter 76: The Consequences of My Actions
Danny’s POV
I have a head full of dust and a headache. I also have an intense desire to body slam this RangeMan.
“Perhaps if you told me what you were looking for, sir, I might be able to help you find it.” Jason, in charge of the gym and garage. Usually the man in charge of those areas also has charge of the building. I know he’s curious but I’m doing an assessment. He’s been following me around all morning and I’ve asked him, politely, to leave. He hasn’t. My instinct is to tell him to go away, rudely.
“Go away. Now.“
He looks shocked, then angry, before he turns on his heel and marches off. Thank god. Peace and quiet at last.
I started with the bottom floor and looked around. Nothing seems out of place. Indeed, RMBoston is living up to its reputation as well-run, well-organized, and headed by an arrogant asshole. One who seems to be reforming. Either Hal’s punch or Steph’s complete verbal emasculation seems to have done the trick. Mark’s behaving like a semi-decent human being.
I’ve seen nothing to make me question Mark’s written responses to Steph’s questionnaire. Everything is indicating that he needs a new building. He’s out of space. RMBoston has grown well under his leadership.
Each floor reinforces that assessment. Space here is at a premium. Even the gym is out of space. Mark needs a new building or another building and he needs it soon. I call for Jason to fob me into Lester’s apartment. Again, nothing out of place. Space allocation is fine. Everything looks good. I go back downstairs to the conference set aside for Steph’s use and run into a problem.
Nosy RangeMen. Five of them.
They look shocked to see me and I quietly shut the door behind me. They’re looking at all our info.
“Your lookout sucks.”
They swallow hard and put the papers down. Each man knows he’s screwed. I point for each of them to stand against the wall and they silently file over to the wall and stand. They look nervous and unhappy, but I see that they’re still interested in the paperwork. I begin flipping papers over and covering Jorge and Steph’s notes. Now they’re really unhappy. I see nerves in jaws throbbing and fingers twitching. I smirk mentally: the adult version of watching my sons fidget when they know they’re going to be grounded after we talk.
Eventually I hear Mark asking where they are. I motion for one to open the door and wave. I wait to see the response .
“What the fuck are you guys doing in here?” Mark asks angrily, striding in. “It’s off limits.” He stops cold when he sees me, my blank face in place, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. He drops his blank face in place , looks at me, looks at his men, and closes his eyes. “Snooping?”
“They learned from you.” I smirk and Mark reddens. He clenches his jaw, looks at his men and nods.
“One hour. Each of you, starting at 1700 today. Dismissed.”
Each man walks out, shoulders slumped. Mark closes the door behind them and sighs. It’s silent for a few minutes.
“Do you still see me as beyond redemption?”
“At the moment, yes.” His head falls back against the wall and I shake mine. “Mark, a few actions are not going to overcome years of disrespect and frustration. You’re doing a good job at the moment, but I can’t tell if this is long term. You’re asking me to put my honor on the line with Hal. I have to be completely sure before I do that because if I’m wrong, Hal will never forget and he will never forgive.”
Steph’s POV—Friday
My interviews with the Client Services group are going well. On Monday, I asked Mark to quietly ask Victor what his Bonds Enforcement day looked like on Friday. I feel like chasing a skip.
Biggest reason I didn’t want Hector to come? I miss this. I finally get to chase a skip! There would be too much pressure if I tried in Trenton right now. Hector would not be happy, Hal and Ram would probably try to tag along, and the entire town would open a new book just for it. I prefer to get that first skip caught and out of the way before I go back home.
Mark told me that Friday looked good for Victor and he’s anxious to talk to me about Bonds Enforcement here. Then he hung his head.
“My men were snooping in your conference room.”
A muscle in his jaw was twitching and I felt like laughing. “How’d they get caught?”
“Danny walked right in on them.”
I laughed. Damn. “Wow. That’s sad. They snoop about as well as you do, Mark.”
Mark looked angry then embarrassed. Finally he chuckled. “Yeah, clearly we need refresher courses in espionage.”
I laughed. I could get angry but he’s learning a valuable lesson. “This is what happens when you break respect for leadership and chain of command in your office.”
He nodded ruefully. “I’m seeing it more and more now.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll have to rebuild respect for that here and, if you want to save your life, you better make sure you do it well.”
Victor is eager to chat. It’s just me and him and we’re on the hunt. Today’s target? Charles Lefebvre, 39, $500,000 bond.
“Bonds Enforcement is overlooked here but I think it can grow. Truth is, we limit ourselves to Boston, but we touch Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, Vermont and New Hampshire.”
I look over at him, confused. “With the exception of New York, those states don’t exactly scream ‘Dangerous fugitives live here!”
He laughs. “Wrong! It’s insane but true. Maine is actually a hotbed of gang activity and the cops up there are desperate for help. Between the meth heads and the ‘one-percenters’, the FBI and local cops have been stunned and caught off guard. I’m desperate to get consulting contracts for that. The cops are asking for our help.” He looks at me. “You know, floating under the surface, like Miami and Trenton. Extend our intel reach with those groups but slip info when it’s in our interest. On the rare occasion that a gang banger gets bail up there, that’s the end. He either slips across to Canada or down I-95 to safety. Hell, if they get the right fisherman, they can go right down the coast.”
“So why is it so overlooked?”
Victor sighs. “Honestly?” He looks at me. “Because Mark sucks at this. He has no internal radar for skips or bad guys. Mark was an altar boy, straight to college, excelled in the military. He’s never ridden the dirty dark side,” Victor says slyly. I laugh. “Mark reminds me of Hal in a lot of ways. He’s gotten tougher over the years, but he’s definitely a ‘lead by example’ man and, since he can’t lead in this, he hesitates to expand it.”
Victor sits back and sighs. He looks at me then nods. “This is an effect of having Ranger as a leader. Every man strives to emulate our CCO, but Mark worships him. Looks up to his example. Whatever Ranger says goes, and since Ranger would never allow his men to chase deadly fugitives if he were unwilling to do so, that’s how Mark approaches ‘active work’ at RMBoston. Our client services stuff is killer because it has to be to make up for the fact that Mark is not an ‘active work’ boss.”
I sit back and smile. That’s the answer I’ve been looking for. I knew something was off. OK. That’s going to be something else I ding Mark on. Just because you can’t doesn’t mean you hold your men back. Give them the leeway to run and back and support them. That’s what Hal does. If he can’t lead in something, he turns it over to the person who can and lets them run with it.
“Bobby told me that Mark is your partner.”
He smiles. “Yeah.”
“Were you in Miami with him?” He nods. “And you followed him here?”
He grins. “Someone had to.”
“Why aren’t you the strategist or liaison?”
He shakes his head. “I know my limitations. I like active work and I hate the office, rare in Boston. Plus, my job is, was, to talk Mark off ledges on the rare occasion he found himself on one.” He frowns. “It doesn’t happen often, but when he climbs on one now, the only person who can get him off it is Ranger. He doesn’t listen to me as much anymore.”
“How is that affecting your partnership?” This isn’t good. There’s a division between them. There shouldn’t be any division between partners.
He clenches his jaw. “It’s been rough lately. Pat actually took me to the mats for muttering Mark had gone off the deep end and I was stunned. Mark’s been my boy for years and it was just me and him when I said it. Not like I was breaking Mark’s authority in front of the men. I was expressing concern for my partner with one of his subordinates. I’m not sure what’s happening among those three, but they each came back from the beach looking like someone killed their moms.” He looks at me from the side of his eye. “I know I’m not going to get any details. I’m just letting you know.”
I smile. “You’re being incredibly open.”
He laughs. “I’m no idiot. I called Zip. I called Marcus. I called Mack. I reach out to the other heads of bonds enforcement in this company and I heard the same thing over and over again: If you get any alone, uninterrupted time with the CO, spill your guts. Tell her every fucking thing, excuse me, tell her everything you can think of. Give her a complete picture of what’s going on.” He smiles at me. “Mario, down in Miami, can’t wait to talk to you.”
I raise an eyebrow and he coughs to hide a laugh. “Damn. Anyway, can I trust his word?”
He nods enthusiastically. “Mario’s had it with the insanity in Miami. The fact that you sent him a ‘thank you’ note for simply doing his job, when he covered Hector during that shooting, touched him. He beat the shit out of Antonio and Nacho, excuse my language.”
I laugh. “Don’t worry. I heard plenty of curse words with Mack.”
He laughs. “OK. Anyway, he’s ready to talk to you. The sexism in Miami is insane. It was never like that when I was in Miami. When Ranger was there, at the beginning, if you got too aggressive with a woman and he saw you, you’d find yourself being posted by Ranger the next day. Eventually every man understood what he was saying: You don’t enjoy this shit, so stop doing it.” He shakes his head. “That attitude toward women started after Ranger left. It got bad, like ridiculous, when Antonio joined the branch.”
“I keep hearing that name over and over again.”
He snorts and we pull into a parking lot. We flip the visors down and take the position. “Mario and Deuce have taken control of Miami among the men. Used to be Antonio, Nacho, Juan, and one or two others, but between Mando’s leaving for Charlotte and Diego’s willingness to thrash the shit outta them, the men are starting to get it.”
I take another look at the picture we have of the skip and the man I just saw exit the apartment. Nope. Not him. “Boston?” Better get him back on track.
He grunts. “We’re not sure what’s up. Mark’s been tight lipped ever since he returned from the beach. Rod’s the most scared man I’ve ever seen and Pat?” He shrugs. “Mark made it clear the Monday he returned: our lives and our branch depend on your good review. Senior leadership has failed and everything else depends on us. Each man is nervous and scared because it’s clear that something happened, and we figure Mark’s bout of insanity over you the past few months caught up with him at the Jersey Shore.” He looks at me quickly then looks back out. “We’re desperate to help him fix it, whatever it was.”
“What’s your opinion of the Leadership Core?”
“Four brilliant men. Follow orders without question.”
“Opinion of me?”
“Mine or the branch?”
“Both.”
“Mine. Smart woman. Follow orders without question.” He looks over at me quickly. “The branch? Improving.” I snort and he grins. “Sorry, but the Bombshell Bounty Hunter stories are the problem.”
“Not Mark’s opinion?”
“It didn’t help, but we’ve heard the stories for years. They started out being funny then they weren’t. You lost a lot of respect here in Boston the longer they went on because every man was wondering why you didn’t put a stop to it. Get training. Get some skills. Quit being a disaster magnet.” He looks over as if scared he’s said too much, but I smile and nod for him to continue. “Sorry. Anyway, you ever heard the saying ‘The body makes its own luck’?”
“No.”
“My grandma’s favorite. In other words, you get what you deserve.”
We’ve been sitting in the truck chit chatting for two hours. We’re both still looking for the skip but it’s easy chatter. Nothing too strenuous. I’m thinking about what he said.
The body makes its own luck.
I need to give that one some thought. At the moment, my luck is crap and the more I think about it, the more I realize my luck has always been crap.
Try to fly? Break my arm.
Like a boy? Interesting poems about me on the walls of a lot of buildings around town.
Get married? Get cheated on, then divorced.
Get a job selling undies? Find out company’s mob-related and get laid off right before it files for bankruptcy anyway.
Get a job as a bounty hunter? Successful but I cause chaos.
Date the poet? Four years of misery because neither of us can commit.
Run RangeMan? Resounding success.
Exactly what have I done differently to change the pattern? Or is there a more spectacular fail coming?
God I hope not. In any case, my butt’s numb and I’m antsy. I look out the window and spot a corner deli .
“I’m headed to the deli. I’m hungry.” I can see the indecision on his face. Follow me or wait for the skip? I watch as Vic pulls the keys from the ignition and I smile. “Nope, you keep watching. I’m getting snacks. You want anything?”
He’s extremely nervous. “Water.”
I hop out and cross the street to the deli. Once inside, my phone rings.
“CO?”
“Yes?” Hmm …water, Sprite, where the hell are the Tastykakes?
“The gentleman that entered behind you has been watching our car for at least 15 minutes. Be careful.”
I resist the urge to look around. “OK. Anything besides water?”
“Nope. I’m good.” Click.
I grab Doritos and ask for two sub sandwiches (‘two grindahs, comin’ up). I’m hungry and I need to kill time. While waiting, I text Hector to watch my trackers then look at what I’ve done.
I asked Hector to watch my trackers. Wow …
The deli guy hands over the sandwiches and I take the food to the cash register to pay. I fish my wallet out of my purse and pay for the food, then stuff as much of it as I can inside. Meanwhile, I’m finally scoping out the place.
The suspect is 5’11”, brown hair, brown eyes, completely unremarkable. I smile at him and he nods, a tight smile on his face. He’s dressed in a suit and tie, unusual for what I’ve seen in this neighborhood, which Victor says is Roslindale . I smile at the owner, who is also watching him carefully, and turn to leave.
“Ms. Plum, correct?”
I turn and face him. “Yes.”
“I’ll need yah to come with me.”
I shake my head. “Nope, I don’t think you do.” I back out of the store and run directly into another wall of muscle.
The skip.
The body makes its own luck? I need a new body.
I turn to the skip and smile. “Excuse me. You mind helping me?” He looks at me suspiciously, so I motion for him to lean down. “This guy is harassing me and you look like the kind of guy that can help. Can you walk me to my car so he’ll leave me alone?” I whisper.
The skip smiles. “You bet .” He glares at the other guy and takes my arm. “We can get a cahfee at the Dunkie’s down the street.” He escorts me back to Vic, whose eyes are wide and stunned. Once there, I smile at the skip.
“Charles Lefebvre?” The skip looks surprised but I’m ready.
Pzzzzzt! He slumps to the ground. Nice to see my stun gun still works. I was prepared to use it on the other guy but I used it to catch the skip. That works too. I hear a snort, then a laugh, and I look over. Vic is red and tears are running down his face.
“I think you may be right. If my body makes its own luck, I need to make sure my stun gun is always charged.”
I walk back across the street and back inside the deli. This time, Victor’s at my back. We zapped Lefebvre twice more and locked him in the car. Even if he wakes, he’s secure. He’s going nowhere.
“Who are you?” I demand. The man looks confused then reaches for a wallet, no, it’s an ID case. I’ve seen Joe’s. He flips his ID open.
“Special Agent Thomas Moran, FBI. We need ta tawk.”
“If you want to talk to me, follow correct procedure.” His jaw tightens and he looks angry. “Call RangeMan and make an appointment. I’m not just sitting around waiting on you to call.”
“It won’t take but a couple secs.”
“My day is filled with things for me to do and your ‘couple secs’ might last more than an hour. Again, you want to talk to me, call RangeMan and ask for an appointment.” I turn to leave, Vic right behind me.
“I could have you arrested and brought in as a material witness,” Moran says.
I turn and give him my coldest look. I hope it works. I’m still working on this face. “If you had the ability to arrest me, you would. You have nothing, and if you arrest me the only words you’ll hear from me are ‘I want my lawyer.’ Got that?”
I exit the store. I need to tell Hector. That’s not over, by a long shot.
Hector’s POV
I’m watching Angelita’s trackers like a hawk. I’m stunned and thrilled she called but terrified about what’s going on. I called Boston and found out that Victor is out with her.
Only Victor.
They’re skip chasing.
Daniel is a dead man. Jorge too. Damn shame. I liked them both.
“Daniel?”
“Hector?”
“Why is my partner out alone?”
I hear the gulp. “She isn’t, but she thinks she is because she ordered me to stay.”
I stare at my phone. “I do not like this answer. I made my expectation crystal clear. There should not have been any confusion.”
“She ordered me to stay in front of the Boston men. To argue with her would have been to question her authority.”
Shit! I sigh heavily. I see the problem and I email Hal to come join me. Hal enters moments later and I put the phone on speaker.
“Danny, is Jorge there with you?”
“No. He’s making like a bum on the street.”
Jorge? I’m betting he sucks at it. The thought gives me a moment of amusement. “Get him.”
We wait and I hear Jorge shut the car door. Danny gives him the update and Hal and I hear a muttered “We’re dead men, aren’t we?”
Danny’s reply: “Deader than dead.”
“Did you tell him we tracked her?”
“The convo didn’t get that far.”
“Explain,” Hal says.
“No way would I let her out alone, Hal,” Danny says nervously. “We followed Vic and he knows we’re here, but we didn’t announce ourselves. We don’t want to piss her off, so this was the best compromise between following Hector’s orders and hers.”
I look at Hal and he nods, jaw set. “You have highlighted a failure in communications. We will send a memo to all Core Teams within the half-hour. It is known and understood here in Trenton that any orders that Hal and I give in regards to the CO’s safety and well-being, any orders we give in regards to her protection, override her concerns. I will remind her of that. For the remainder of this trip, the orders I gave you earlier apply. She leaves that building, one of you accompanies her. Understood?”
“Yes,” they reply. I can sense the relief.
“You are clear but do not let that happen again. If she attempts to slip the guard, inform me or Hal immediately.”
Click.
I text Angelita to call me ASAP. Moments later, she calls.
“Hector?”
“Angelita, Hal is here with me.” I turn to him. “Translate.” He nods.
“Hey, Sis. What’s going on?”
“I texted Hector to watch my trackers. Vic and I were waiting on a skip to show when I went on a snack run across the street. A guy followed me into the store and Vic called to tell me he’d been watching us for at least 15 minutes. He was a fed, FBI, and he wanted to talk to me.” I clench my jaw. They’re actively tracking her. This is a disaster. “I was nervous. If I got kidnapped, I wanted Hector watching me, looking to see where they were taking me.”
Hal looks as pale as I do. He understands the implications. While he’s translating, I’m texting Ranger. He needs to know. This is a major problem. Manny will need to be informed also.
“Sis? I’m glad this happened. We realized we had a major failure of communications here. Look, long story short, if you leave the building, Danny and Jorge must accompany you. You asked us to stay away because of our feelings about Boston and we’ll respect that, but please take them with you. If the FBI is tracking you, take both of them. We’re sending an official email to all of RangeMan that when you leave the building you need a security detail.”
Cue angry partner. “Hal—”
“This isn’t about you, Steph! This is about him.” The whining on the other end stops. “Look, all you need to know is that he’s been extremely successful. He has enemies. If they’re tracking you, that’s a major concern because they might be able to hide you where we can’t retrieve you.”
There’s silence on the other end. Again, something my Angelita will have to accept in a relationship with Ranger: constant protection when the threat level is high. This is the first time since her clearance that it’s happened.
“So, you get the skip?”
I smile at Hal. Good job. I text Nikki to contact me immediately. New security procedures will have to go in place for her and Hector Manuel. If they’re targeting Ranger, I’m sure I’m not far behind.
“Yup! Used him to get away from the fed then stunned him once he escorted me to the car.”
We laugh. That’s my Angelita!
Ranger’s POV
I’m pacing in my hotel room. Steph’s being watched. They’re hunting her trying to find me. This is my worst nightmare.
I glare at my phone. Ring, dammit! I know Hec won’t call back until he has every bit of information, but I need to know now. I need to know how far the threat level goes. I need to protect my Babe.
Rin—Ipick up the phone before it finishes the first ring.
“Yes?”
“Victor spotted him. FBI according to the badge. Thomas Moran is the name.”
I check my list. “Violent Crime and Major Thefts. I haven’t assigned him to anyone yet.” I deemed him low level, but someone sent him after Steph. He’s just rocketed up the priority charts for me. I look at the agent list and assign him to Lewis. He’s doing a damn good job lately and he’s from Chicago. Their backgrounds are similar. I’ll need to take Lewis’s target in Connecticut. I start making arrangements to move him ASAP.
“Piman’s really working a campaign of misinformation on your behalf. Most of the South believes you’re overseas. Tomas is shitty but I’m keeping his ass to the fire to do the same from Newark.”
I snort. Tomas is the reason I ended up in juvie. He honors my ‘requests’ now because he knows I haven’t forgiven that shit and he’s not Piman. I’m more than willing to help one of his Dons become an Inca by withdrawing my blind eye from his shit. My beef with him is personal so I try to keep it away from his business just as he keeps his ass away from my business.
Hector? Hector’s beef with him is very personal, which is why he does exactly as Hector tells him.
“Steph?” Please tell me she’s OK, Hec. Please tell me she’s not going to run.
“Fine.” I exhale and relax slightly. “She called me while in the deli to ask me to watch her trackers. Vic said she handled it like a pro. Gave no indication she was afraid, actually used the skip to get away, stunned the skip with her stun gun and was prepared to use it on the feeb. Went back, confronted him, told him that if he wanted to talk to her, call her at RangeMan and ask for an appointment. She’s a busy woman.”
Hector’s laughing at the end of it and I’m astonished and thrilled. I swallow hard and sit.
My Babe put herself first. She put her safety first. She had a charged stun gun and was ready to use it. She called Hector, in advance, and told him to watch her trackers. She told a federal agent where to get off.
I look down. Well, it’s not as if I’ve never masturbated to thoughts of her before.
A blissful hour later, I review all the intel I have and realize I’m going to need to spend some time cross referencing the shit Morelli is bringing in with the stuff I’m hearing from Kelly and Donaldson, in Virginia. I sit back, prepped for a long night of intel sifting, when the phone rings.
Morelli.
“Yo.”
“Yo. Got a problem.”
I sit up. He hates calling me when he has problems, so this is big. “Go on.”
“I’m being searched for.”
Shit! Disaster. “How do you know?”
“Bunchy and Meri dropped in on my Mom. She was shaking and nervous when she called. They wanted to know about my case because there’s no hint, no rumors about it at Quantico.”
“How did she contact you?”
“Went to my uncle’s and left a message. We have a system.”
I lean back. Thank god. Morelli and Babe will be how I get caught unless I manage this now. “OK, I need you to head to Vegas for a day or two, then LA for the rest of the week. Enjoy yourself, call it a vacation, and call your mother once from a burn phone. Enough that she picks up but don’t talk. Hang up immediately. Carry the phone around for a day or two, call her again, don’t talk, then discard it.”
I hear the confusion and I sigh. My men would have understood at once. “If they’ve tapped your mother’s phone, your signal will triangulate out west, keeping with the undercover persona already established. They’ll kill themselves trying to establish a signal for it and they’ll devote resources to trying to locate you out there. Use your system to let her know you won’t be calling for a few days. I’ll get my men to discreetly determine if there’s a tap on her line.”
“Got it.” He’s quiet. “Thanks. Regular calls?”
“Fine.”
“What about Mom’s phone records? They’ll have a history of the calls made.”
“Sat phone with a scrambler. All of you have one. The same phone number will not show on her records twice and they won’t break it without getting the NSA involved, which is more paperwork than they want.”
“Shit. You think of everything.” The tone is grudging respect and I smile. Of course I do. I don’t leave my survival to chance. That’s why I’m running this sting. “Thanks.” Click.
I start sifting again and listening to the tapes. Three hours later, I have six new leads, but the pattern is off. The pattern was shaping up clearly. State agents, working in tandem, were feeding information to certain Treces in order to receive payoffs. I’ve been looking for a commonality, but haven’t found one to tie everyone together. Now, there’s no commonality between them. I’ve taken so many off the streets there’s nothing active to tie all of them together. That also explains why Knox’s calls are becoming more frequent and scared. He’s lost his base and he’s worried.
I sit back and consider options.
“Madam Secretary?”
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m calling with a request.”
“Go ahead.”
“My loved ones are being searched for, as is one of my task force members.”
“The one with the closest connection to you?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, I’m hearing from the Attorney General that his organization is feeling pressure from below. They want to know about this sting, both of them. Ambitious agents want in. We’re discouraging anyone from looking in that direction.”
“Thank you. I would like someone to interview Alexandra Torres. I want to know how and why they flipped her so fast. My pattern is changing and I need info.”
“I’ll have it done this afternoon.”
“Thank you, Madam Secretary.” Click.
The tape of the interview is transmitted to me on Monday. I listen and laugh. Mason might have been a drunk but apparently his partner, Jackson, didn’t get laid often enough. Torres, hoping for immunity or a lighter sentence, spilled her guts.
Jackson got involved with MS-13 after a successful stint in Charlotte-Mecklenburg PD. He was the top gang liaison officer and had a good rapport with most of the gangs in the area. That’s how he first made contact with the Treces. The Treces pushed all the other gangs out of their territories and damn near took over Charlotte and, like mafia dons of old, put Jackson on the payroll. When there were multiple gangs, no one had supremacy; when the Treces took over it was ‘deal or die’. He dealt to keep his wife and kids safe. Plus, the extra money relieved family burdens. He was flush again and Mason got suspicious. He demanded a cut, which is how they both got involved.
Saddest part of the entire fucked up interview? Jackson knocked Torres up. She’s now around two months along and is terrified of giving birth in prison. Jackson was informed and refuses to have anything to do with the kid.
Fucked up all the way around.
I check back through the other intel. This was a standard reason for the other agents, which is why it was so easy to nab them, but Mason and Jackson didn’t appear to have any increases in income. I send back info to get a warrant for their financial records for the past ten years. I’m betting the increase will show there. They’ve been involved longer than everyone else.
Now, where’s the nexus between them and Knox?
I keep searching police records, service commendations, everything I have and the pattern emerges. Each officer was in a separate training session for Operation Community Shield. No one agent was trained with another, which is why no one clicked. I start checking the list of instructors for the classes. Knox isn’t on it but he was always present when the trainings occurred. One instructor is present in each one.
James White. FBI. Violent Crimes and Major Theft. Specialty? Gangs. Manny’s new enemy. Finally! New pattern. I keep searching and find a military link between Knox and White. White is a Marine, not Army, who was commissioned in Texas and trained in his specialty at Quantico. Knox started off as FBI. There’s the nexus, but something is still off.
I shake my head to clear it and carefully lock everything away. I go for a jog and pick up some groceries before heading back to the hotel, a Residence Inn. I’m prepping dinner when it finally hits.
James White. Diego Mendoza.
SHIT!
I drop everything and head back to my notes. Diego Mendoza was an MS-13 member from Oakland, California. He left, went to school in Texas, and entered the military. Juana Baez was trying to figure it out and she solved it. She just couldn’t prove it.
Diego Mendoza.
Diego Blanco Mendoza.
Diego Blanco. James White.
He Anglicized his fucking name and everyone missed it because they assumed Mendoza was his last name. Blanco is his last name. Shit. That’s why she told Manny his name. She knew he would figure it out.
Now, how did the asshole end up . . . I send in a request to determine if Diego Mendoza has a DD368 form Request for Conditional Release. That’s how he would have muddied the waters. He went into the Army with one name, changed it and transferred to the Marines, eventually being discharged under another name. Juana couldn’t prove it because she couldn’t get the DD368 or the name change forms, but I can.
I head back to the kitchen, grateful to finally have figured it out. Now all the pieces are slamming into place and the weird bits of info I had that didn’t make sense finally do. I can see I’ll be up half of the night putting all of it together, but I finally have the true picture.
Manny’s his new complication. Manny was fucking his woman and asking too many questions. He has a price on his head. Manny will have to stay out of sight for a while.
I review the other info. The bumblebees in the way (I could kill Blanco for that slight alone) must be me and Hector. We’re holding up progress, ie. MS-13’s takeover of Miami from Piman. My refusal to move against Piman legally and take a contract to bring him in is pissing Knox off because Blanco’s holding his ass to the fire to make that happen. Meanwhile, Hector’s legendary reputation, and the fact that it’s been reactivated because of this case, means Hector’s the newest target.
Manny’s involvement has pretty much cemented the fact that I’m involved. On one hand, Juana and Manny met up on a regular basis and their meeting was at about the right time for it not to be suspicious. He also confirmed that I was overseas and not involved in the sting. But MS-13 has been working off the assumption that I was here and involved the entire time. It’s too coincidental. They will believe I’m involved unless I’m shipped home in a body bag.
And my Babe’s in the middle. The one woman who ties me, Hector, Manny and Morelli together. They’ll be desperate to kidnap her and use her as leverage against any one of us.
With us out of the way, he assumes Piman would be easier to bring in. He doesn’t realize that Piman controls over 3,000 men. Piman doesn’t need me to take the Sureños down. He just doesn’t want to bring that kind of heat. If he gets a bead on who his real problem is though, well …Ram’s my sniper. Danilo is his.
I sift for another hour and realize that this is too simple. No, there’s still a missing element here. I need to search deeper. What’s his motivation to do all this? The fucker is a gangster working for the FBI and he’s not undercover. There’s no way Quantico doesn’t know about that affiliation. And what does White gain from all of this?
I sit back and sigh. I’m nearly there. I’m nearly done with this one. I text Hector and tell him I need to talk to Babe. I know he’s already told her to watch her safety, but I need to repeat that. She needs to know I’ve found the link. Her life is about to get crazy. I text Manny and let him know that we need to speak tonight. His safety is my utmost concern right now. The phone rings.
“Babe?”
“Is everything OK?”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes. Answer my question.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Babe, we need to talk.”
“Is this going to be a lecture about wearing my trackers and accepting bodyguards?”
“Yes.”
Sigh. “I passed standards. Why is all this necessary?”
“Babe.” I’m trying to figure out how to say this when I hear a frustrated noise. “I know you need more than one word. Be patient, please.”
“OK.”
It’s silent on the line. “OK, here’s the deal. I’ve put away all the easy characters. Life is about to get very hard. You see that they’re already tracking you. They’re tracking Morelli too.” Sharp intake of breath and something in me dies a little but I soldier on. “Manny and Hector are also tied in. You’re the link between all of us, the only person we all have in common. He’s gone, I’m gone, everything is suspect, Babe. There’s a lot of nervous men who want answers. None of this is your fault but Babe, I’m asking you, begging you, do not go anywhere without backup. Let Hector be your back. Let Manny or Hal be your back. Please Babe, put your safety first.”
Again, it’s silent on the line. I hope she took me seriously. This is the first time I’ve ever begged her not to ditch the guards.
“How high is the threat?”
“Babe.” Seriously! “You were confronted by an FBI officer last week—”
“He might not have been real! It might have been a scare tactic.”
Are we really having this fucking conversation!? “No, Babe, he’s on my list. Low-level, but since he confronted you he just shot up the list. Angie Morelli got a visit from Bunchy and Meri Maisonet. The threat is real Babe. It’s high, especially for you and Manny.”
I hear her swallow and I’m leaning back in the chair, looking at the ceiling. I can’t believe I’m having this insane conversation. Why can’t she just believe me when I try to keep her safe? Shit! I’m not even putting her in a safe house this time. I’m just asking her to watch out and always have a partner.
“I always thought when I passed standards I wouldn’t be under guard all the time,” she says quietly, and I’m really getting fed up.
“No, Babe. Passing standards means you can do field work but no matter what, unless I’m offline, I always have Tank at my back and vice-versa. Hector is not your guard. He’s your partner. Unless you are in a safe place and protected, he needs to be at your back as Tank would be at mine.”
I walk over to the fridge and pour another glass of water. I’m frustrated by this entire conversation .
“OK. I’ll make sure I don’t go anywhere alone,” she says quietly, and I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I miss you, Ranger,” I hear her whisper.
“I miss you too, Babe.” I exhale. Maybe someday we’ll be able to have this conversation without the argument. I lean back against the headboard and smile. “So, what did you do to end up in front of a feeb, Babe?”
“I caught a skip!” She sounds excited and my eyebrows rise.
“Really? Tell me about it.”
She tells me about using the skip to get away and I chuckle. My Babe. Using the bad guys to get away from the questionable guys.
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m not telling you about the company, Ranger.” I smile. “You’ll hear about the company when the op is over.”
“Fine. Then talk to me about something else.”
Steph talks about arranging gymnastics lessons for her nieces and going to watch them at the gym. Apparently Angie is a natural but Mary Alice, who she expected to have all the talent, is having a hard time but she is having fun.
“They look so cute in their outfits and Val and I had fun cheering them on. I wish I could go watch them more.”
“Why can’t you?”
“Well, I left for Boston the next day and I’m headed directly to Miami in three days.”
“Have fun. Enjoy the beach, Babe. Wish I could be there to slather you in sunblock.” I mean that too. My cock is getting excited at the thought.
“I wish you were here too, Ranger.” I can hear the sadness in her voice and I wish I knew what to say to make her feel better. “I love you, Ranger.”
Wow. I didn’t even feel my death. They’re right; it’s painless.
“Ranger?”
Hmm … maybe I’m not dead. I always thought I would be dead or dying before I heard those words from her.
“Te amo tambien, Babe. I love you too, Babe.” Saying it in English was effortless. I feel weightless. I could take on the entire world right now. My Babe loves me! She finally fucking said it!
“I made my choice, Ranger. I’m not going back to Joe this time and if you push me back to him, I will kill you.” Her voice is fierce and I’m elated. I feel like having another celebration with my hands tonight.
“I will never push you back to him, Babe. Mine. I told you that.”
“I know.” She sounds disgruntled. “We have to talk terms at some point though.”
“Yeah.”
“Not tonight.”
“No.” Gracias a Dios. I’m not ready for that discussion.
“If I’m on a sat phone and you’re on a sat phone, why can’t you call me?”
Good question. I suppose I can bend here. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
“OK. I’ll call you. Do not call me except under extreme circumstances, Babe.”
“I know. You’re in the field. I’m in the building. Got it. Love you.”
“Love you too, Babe.” Click.
I smile. My Babe.
She finally got it.
