Chapter 78: Close Calls
Danilo’s POV—2 am
I hate downtown duty, and downtown duty watching the local ICE office is the worst. It’s boring and demeaning and I shouldn’t have to do this shit. I’m a Don, not a soldier. I should be home, coordinating shit since Piman is in ATL. Instead, I’ve been sitting in the same fucking spot, in this car, for the past three hours thinking of ways to kill Piman. If I didn’t love him and trust his judgment like I do, I’d kill the bastard.
He got me to agree to this because he said he felt, in his soul, that I needed to be at ICE tonight. When Piman feels things, in his soul, I shut up and obey.
All Reyes in Miami are on alert tonight. He called an hour ago. Hector’s viciousness has reached a new level, but Piman’s getting word that el Tigre’s woman may have been kidnapped. Everyone is to stay alert and ready for action.
Still, this is boring. Next time, I wanna pull duty on the Cub.
Wait, what’s this? A woman, white, slight, small tits but a nice ass, comes tearing around the corner, followed closely by three men. This chick can run in those heels. Tight black dress, curly brown hair, nice Jimmy Choos. . . I take back the tits assessment. Nice bounce on that rack.
No fucking way! I couldn’t get this lucky. I take it back. I love Piman and his soul!
My gun starts popping off shots before I even think about it. The men take cover trying to find the source of the gunfire. The woman never stops running.
That convinces me. I start the car. She’s almost at me.
“Plum!”
She glances over but doesn’t stop. The men are running again so I take action. I swing out into traffic and pull up beside her, creeping, firing backwards to slow them down. I let the passenger window down.
“Yo! I’m safe. I know Ranger. I’m with Piman.” The name ‘Ranger’ makes her stop, as I hoped it would. The men are gaining. “Hop in. You’ve got less than a minute before they catch us.”
She looks back at them, looks at me, and hops in. The moment both her feet are inside, I floor it. I slide through six red lights, make a quick left turn, and kill the car.
“Come on! Gotta switch cars.”
I grab the gun and my phone and haul ass to my real car, a blue Chevy Malibu. We climb inside just as my phone rings. I answer the call.
“Yo!” I put it on speaker and toss her the phone. It’s Piman. I know it.
“YO! Any word?”
“Got her. She’s holding the phone.”
“Seriously! Shit! Yo, Ms. Plum?”
“Yes?” She looks bewildered but not afraid. The Newark Reyes were correct. This woman’s fear threshold is high.
“My name is Piman. Nice to make your acquaintance. I’m sure the asshole with you hasn’t introduced himself.” I cringe. “That’s Danilo. Are you OK?”
“My feet hurt.”
I snigger. Just like a woman. Fuck the kidnappers and hostile gang members. Her feet hurt. I hear Piman chuckle.
“Sorry. We would’ve gotten you quicker had we known. Look, let me level with you. There’s a contract out on you and hostiles are searching for the Cub. I assume you’re following me?”
Her eyes have gotten big. “Yes, I’m following.”
“Good. I have my soldiers watching her right now. Don’t send your men. Everyone connected to your office is being watched closely by rivals.”
Her jaw clenches and her nostrils flare.
“Do you have anyone you trust, beyond a shadow of a doubt, who we can hand you off to? We need to get you back to the office, but we can’t be connected to you.”
I watch her consider the question. “Let’s call my partner.”
“OK. You mind letting me do the talking?”
“Probably better if you do.”
She gives Piman the number. We soon hear another voice on the line.
“Yo!”
“Yo.” My eyes widen. Who is this?
“I have Tigresa.”
“Where?” The voice sounds furious.
“Danilo has her. He’s driving around the city now to keep anyone from finding her. Moving target. She needs a safe place to do the handoff and you need to step up security on the Cub.”
“I need to speak to her.”
I’m stunned when she starts speaking in Spanish.
“I’m here, Hector.”
Holy Shit! I’m tempted to slam brakes. Her partner is Hector? The Asesino? Jesucristo! I look over. She’s gotta get in that seatbelt. I wish I had a harness to keep her safe.
“Angelita! Are you OK?” He sounds panicked.
“My feet hurt.”
Hector sniggers. “You and your heels.” That was somewhat calmer. “Danilo, do the handover in the airport short term parking lot.”
“Yeah.”
“OK. One hour.”
“Hec?”
“Angelita?”
“My phone was stolen.”
“Really?” He sounds amused. “Nate will enjoy hearing that.” Click.
“Seat belt.”
She looks over at me in confusion.
“Hey, we’ve managed to avoid getting killed tonight. Let’s keep the success rate up.”
I’ve enjoyed life so far and Hector’s a vicious bastard. We’re starting to get reports back from Atlanta. He’s not in a mood to be fucked with tonight. If even half the shit we’re hearing is true, he’s passed legendary status. He’s moved into el Tigre’s Teflon Don territory.
She grins and puts the seatbelt on. I look over at her. Now that the chase and gunfire is over, she’s leaning back, pale.
GRROOWWLLLLLLL
What the fuck was that? She turns red. “I need food.”
“That suggests you need a fucking Chinese buffet,” I reply, in awe. She stares then laughs. “Where to? I think McDonalds and Steak and Shake are open right now.”
“Mickey D’s please.”
We hit the drive through and order. Big Mac, large fry, apple pies, the woman is putting it away. I feel small with my McDouble but hey, this body is hard to maintain.
Since we have an hour to kill, I swing out toward South Beach. The traffic will be thick and it won’t look unusual for a car to continuously circle for an hour. It’ll look like I’m looking for a parking space.
After 40 minutes, I head to the airport and enter short term parking. Brilliant idea. I wait and eventually she points at a Porsche Cayenne parked on the 2nd level. I park next to it and Diego Garcia steps out the car. Good. I know Diggy. He’s good peeps and he’s about business.
“Steph!” He grabs her in what looks like a bone-crushing hug and lifts her straight from the ground. He nods at me and she turns and waves. I smile and exit the airport.
That was enough excitement for one night. I think I’ll go take a nap then clean my rifle. I get the feeling that Ms. Plum’s presence in Miami means it’s about to get some use.
Unknown FBI Agent—Miami, Zero Dark
I’ve been staring at this phone for an hour. This is insane. I can’t even tell what the encryption hash protecting this phone begins with. Whoever is protecting this phone knows what they’re doing. Screw 5/1 GSM encryption. He (or she) installed 192-bit AES and went straight to full disk PGP encryption to back that up. Crap.
I don’t know who did this, but I tip my hat.
I reconnect the iPhone to my computer and start attempting to break the algorithms, but I’m still not getting anywhere. I don’t know why I’m trying. 192-AES and PGP are government standard. NSA can’t crack them. NSA approved them for government use.
The door behind me opens and Knox enters. He’s been hounding me ever since he arrived with this phone.
“How far have you gotten?” he asks.
“Nowhere.”
A vein in his forehead throbs. I shrug. Shit, what do you want me to say?
“Explain.”
“Whoever encrypted this is good. They’re fucking great. They have to be working for the NSA. It’s that good.”
I pick up the phone and smile at it. I’m impressed. “At the moment, this is a $600 brick. The person who encrypted it did a thorough job. Breaking into it takes on a whole new meaning. You get past the standard iPhone 4-digit password and you’re immediately presented with a demand for a different password. This one requires something that conforms to 72 bit key encryption standards. A brute force attack to crack that will take 125 years. So nothing simple.
Then, if I look at my code, it requires a minimum of 15 digits, mixed case, a number and special character, and nothing dictionary based. It’s a beast. I’m not even past this, which means that the person who encrypted this phone certainly isn’t communicating over the PSTN network. They’re going to use point-to-point encryption.”
He’s looking flabbergasted. I passed that point an hour ago. This is really good work. “In English?”
“They aren’t using the regular airwaves, they have a really difficult password on here, and I suspect this thing is encrypted at government standards.”
“If they’re calling a home phone line?”
I shake my head in amused wonder. “They can still encrypt their side of the conversation. Phone calls on this phone are using the phone’s data plan or available wifi. The phone minutes are unused. I guarantee it.”
“Text messages? Emails? Anything?”
I sniff desperation from him. I snort then chuckle. “My guess? Text messages are designed to self-destruct after a certain amount of time. Emails are encrypted on both sides. Hell, I’d put money on the fact that this phone has full-disk PGP encryption.” I look at him. “That’s uncrackable.”
“Nothing’s uncrackable.”
Really? Where’s your degree from Carnegie-Mellon? Mine’s hanging up behind your head, asshole.
I laugh. “Without the keys, PGP is. There are legal cases all over the country involving PGP encryption, about whether requiring a defendant or suspect to reveal their keys amounts to a violation of their Fifth Amendment rights. Case law is all over the place about it and the Supreme Court is running scared from ruling on it. The government initially classified PGP encryption as a ‘munition’, like bullets and bombs. That’s how good PGP encryption is.”
I look at him. He’s pissed. He steps off to make a phone call then puts the phone on speaker. “Then what can you tell us that’s actually useful?” he asks coldly.
I look at him. I hate field agents. They think they’re the biggest dicks around but the moment they need IT, they’re the biggest bitches in the complex.
Beg, fucker, beg.
“Sometime this year . . . ?” Knox says, barely succeeding in holding his fury.
“I can tell you that at the moment it’ll take me 125 years plus infinity to break this phone unless the NSA comes out with something sooner. IF, big if, I get lucky and break this phone, I’ll find that it’s been wiped. I’m sure of it.”
Prophetic statement.
White and Knox burst into my office two hours later. White? Jesus, I hate this bastard. Isn’t he supposed to be working on some big bust in Baltimore? “Have you made any progress?” White asks, pacing and furious.
I shake my head. I’m still watching numbers roll on my screen. “Nope. You want to crack this, take it to the NSA. That’ll knock five years off the solution.”
No sooner do I get that out of my mouth than the phone beeps. I hide a smile. The computer freezes and I immediately disconnect the phone and the computer. We watch, White and Knox in fury, me in amusement, as the phone turns on and displays a message.
FUCK YOU. QUANTICO? REALLY?
HAHAHAHAHAHA. WATCH THIS, BITCHES!
The phone starts its wipe sequence. 1 of 50. Fuck. I start laughing. I knew I should’ve taken the SIM card out immediately. Why did I listen to field agents? They don’t know their assholes from a hole in the ground. I look at the computer. Wipe sequence. 1 of 50. I laugh. Damn, this fucker is good. Uploaded a fucking virus right to me. Now I’ll have to discard the computer.
I look at Knox and White. “$600 brick. Once that wipe sequence is done, the phone will be less than useless. I guarantee that. If this wipe sequence is good, which I fully expect it is, it has a kill command at the end. It will send a command to the internal motherboard to overload, essentially frying it and destroying the internal components. You’ll get nothing off it.”
“How do you stop it?”
“Can’t. It’s started. You’d have to break it open and attempt to rip out the battery, which is suicide in an iPhone if you don’t know what you’re doing. I should have taken the SIM card out, but you assured me that the owner was busy. No matter what, the phone will complete its wipe sequence the moment you install another battery.”
“I did not tell you that,” Knox says coldly.
I turn to my laptop and play the audio file.
“I’ll need to remove the SIM card and possibly the battery. How much time do I have?”
“Take all the time you need breaking that,” Knox says. “The owner is a little preoccupied.”
“Arrested?”
“Napping.” Laughter.
I turn back around and smirk. I tape everything, assholes. They leave, tense and angry, and I stop the audio recording on my laptop.
I turn back to my computer and tip my (metaphorical) hat.
Well played, my law-breaking friend. Well-played.
Hector’s POV—2300. All conversations in Spanish
Mijo was thrilled to see me today and I’ve not allowed him out of my sight for the past six hours. I’m stroking his hair as he sleeps, trying to calm myself. I came so close to losing him today. I still feel the terror, the absolute burning fear and horror. I wipe my eyes.
Mijo. My beautiful little boy. I stopped here to celebrate his birthday, the happiest day of my life so far, and very nearly ended up losing him. He was nearly taken from me. I nearly lost him.
I wipe the tears and thank God and all the saints for their intervention.
I look over at Nikki, who is on Mijo‘s other side. She, too, looks as terrified and exhausted as I feel. I’m trying to remain calm, look calm for her, but I know that I’m not going to heaven any time soon. My bags are packed, my blades have been sharpened, and my alibi is ready. Death 27 will be recorded tonight and I’m resigned to it. Nikki is not. She’s pale and scared and furious. So am I.
The Atlanta RangeMen finished the security work on Nikki’s townhome this afternoon. Every available man wired the place for round the clock security, but Nikki has moved into this apartment temporarily. I hated to do it but I took Mijo to be chipped with a tracker this afternoon. Nikki will be chipped tomorrow and Cindy will accompany her.
“Are you absolutely certain about this?” Nikki asks quietly.
I clench my teeth together and nod. “Do you want him?” She shakes her head. “Could you ever trust him again?” She shakes her head. “Then why allow him a second opportunity?” Her eyes close and I can see the tears roll down her cheek.
“Simple fact of the matter. He was willing to sacrifice his own son to save his own skin. There’s no mercy for that, no absolution. I will never forgive that and you will never forget it.”
The call from Manny’s school comes at 4:30 p.m., just as Danny and I are headed there to pick him up.
“Mr. Castaño?”
“Sí?” I hope this person can speak Spanish.
She can. “Mr. Castaño, this is Jacintha Monroe at Marietta Montessori. I’m calling to authorize the removal of Alejandro Carlos Castaño from our facility by a,” she pauses, “Mauricio Medina. He’s here to pick up his son.”
“Absolutely not. If Alejandro leaves with him, it will be parental abduction and I will sue your facility.” I’m livid. Shit! Atlanta rush hour means we’re at least 30 minutes away, maybe more. Danny’s jaw clenches and I see him start dialing on his phone. “How did Mr. Medina even find him? The child is registered under a pseudonym.”
“I’m not sure, sir, but when Alejandro spotted Mr. Medina he walked right up to him and called him Daddy.”
“Please remove him from his father’s presence as discreetly as you can.” NOW! Get my son away!
“Understood, sir. One moment.” I hear her call Mijo and move into another room and shut the door.
“Mr. Castaño, frankly, we’re all frightened here. Mr. Medina is here with three other men and it’s clear they’re all armed. When I asked them to step outside, one indicated he had a gun. My staff and I are frightened silly.” I can hear it in her voice and I hope the school doesn’t drop Manny for this.
“I understand, Mrs. Monroe. I’m on my way. I may be preceded by men in all black who will have badges from RangeMan, Inc.”
“The men here have badges from RangeMan.”
I’m swallowing hard. No fucking way. “Then do not release Alejandro to anyone until I get there.”
“Mr. Castaño, I pray you get here soon. We’ve rung the silent alarm for police backup but until someone arrives, we’re sitting ducks.”
“I understand. Thank you for calling.” Click.
Danny’s jaw is clenched. “Three of my men are ten minutes away.”
I shake my head. “They’ve faked our badges. Can you give full physical descriptions of those men?”
“Better. I have a plan.”
“Will my son be alive and well at the end of it?”
“I wouldn’t suggest it if even a hair on his head were harmed,” Danny says seriously. “I’m a father too.”
I hit redial on my phone. I’m putting my trust in another father to save my son.
“Marietta Montessori, Jacintha Monroe speaking.”
“Mrs. Monroe, this is Hector Castaño. I’m going to pass you over to Daniel Woods now. I’m authorizing him to walk you through the plan we’ve created to remove the men from your facilities.”
“Wonderful,” she breathes. I pass the phone to Danny.
“Mrs. Monroe, this is Daniel Woods, head of RangeMan Atlanta. To verify that you are talking to the correct man, please call the number you had for Hector Castaño.” Click.
She calls back moments later. “Mr. Woods?”
“Yes. Thank you for calling back. Our Atlanta branch has three men who are seven minutes away from you. If you check your paperwork, you’ll find an authorization for Marcus Daniels among Alejandro’s paperwork.” I hear her fingers tapping the keyboard.
“Yes, I remember him. He’s a known.” She sounds relieved.
“OK. Please remove Alejandro to a back entrance. Marcus will approach the facility on foot and remove the child in that manner. We’re going to run a decoy operation.”
“It’s unorthodox, but acceptable.”
Danny walks her through the exercise. He tells her to tell Mauricio that she will release the child to his care as soon as he and the decoy RangeMen fill out an information card. In the meantime, she’ll send Manny to his teacher’s room to collect his things. She’s nervous but determined. Danny hangs up. “They just arrived.”
We’re stuck on I-75 and my heart is pounding in my chest. I quickly check my phone for the right saint and start praying to Saint Nicholas, the patron saint of children. We’re still not moving so I pray to the Sainted Father Joseph for both myself and my son. We sit in tense silence and wait for the phone call to let me know my son is safe. Fifteen minutes later, the phone rings.
“Yo!”
“Yo!” Marcus. Thank god! “We have Hector Manuel. Took him out a back entrance and ran a mile with him to the truck. We made sure the unfriendlies saw the decoy vehicle leave so they’re chasing Jase right now. They assume he’s in that.” He sounds out of breath but happy. “We made like it was a game. Manny thought it was fun.”
I lean back and swallow hard. My son is safe. I pull over to the shoulder and climb out. My knees are shaky and I lean against the SUV for a moment, fighting the tears in my eyes. Danny says nothing. He hands me a bottle of water and takes the keys from me. We turn back toward RangeMan, me thanking all the saints for my son and all the men of RangeMan Atlanta, the men who saved him. We arrive and I wait in the garage. Thirty minutes later, Mijo arrives, looking sleepy until he sees me.
“Tío!” He runs at me and I pick him up and hug him close, squeezing him. I’m not ashamed of the tears that fall from my eyes and I carry him inside the building, still hugging him close.
“Tío? Tío, do you have a boo-boo?” Mijo asks, looking at me close. I smile and shake my head.
“Nope, just happy to see you, that’s all. How was school today?” I wipe my face and kiss the top of his head, letting a few tears soak into his hair. I swallow hard. My precious, precious son. My son. My phone beeps and Nikki tells me she’s headed to the building. She’s unhappy about the RangeMan escort. Mijo wiggles until he can see my face to tell me all about the excitement of his day. Then his little face gets serious.
“Papí showed up at my school today with some big scawy men,” he says, looking confused. “He wanted me to leave with him but I told him you were going to come get me.” He grins at me. “What’s a fucker?”
Danny and Marcus choke back a laugh and I smile. I forgot they were here. I look around. I walked into Danny’s office. “Why?” I ask, smiling at Mijo. I’m finally calming down.
“Cuz that’s what the men with Papí said when I said you were coming for me. He said we gotta leave before that fucker shows up and kills us all and I said that it wasn’t true and you didn’t kill people you just slice them and Mrs. Monroe looked confused and Papí looked frightened and he laughed and said that wasn’t true that was an accident and it was only one time and I asked him why he sliced you and he said you lost control of the knife and it was a big watermelon—”
Mijo is repeating everything word for word and we’re all laughing. Danny looks at me. “At this age, they repeat everything.”
I nod. New info. Thanks, Danny. This fatherhood stuff is hard.
Mijo repeats everything he overheard and when he’s done we’re all hiding how angry we are. Clearly Mauricio led Sureños right to my son in order to save his own life, but the school stalled for time by making Mauricio fill out a wad of paperwork and take pictures for his file. She also made the Sureños sit and fill out paperwork and take pictures, noting she didn’t have their names in her official list of RangeMen allowed to pick up Mijo. Jacintha Monroe has gone on my short list of people to trust. She kept her head and stalled for time with bureaucratic bullshit. That was creative.
Even better, I know who I need to kill later.
Nikki arrives and Mijo runs to her and tells her about his day, including the near kidnapping. By the time he’s done, Nikki is pale and frightened. She looks at Danny.
“You wouldn’t happen to have an extra apartment here, would you?”
Danny smiles. “Joe’s cleaned it out and Ms. Rose is sheeting the bed for you and our favorite little boy as we speak.” He pinches Mijo‘s cheeks and Mijo grins and runs out, yelling for Jase, who is apparently his favorite Atlanta RangeMan. Once they leave, everyone turns to me. I look at Danny.
“Manny gets chipped today. Find someone.” I look at Nikki. “You too.” She nods. “I need an alibi for tonight.” They nod and I leave for the control room.
Time to put in work.
The Sureños have Mauricio under guard, but they made sure that I was aware of how to find him. They think I’ll come rescue him.
Nope. He dies tonight and I’m going to do it in a way that cements the legend.
I parked two miles away and scanned the perimeter. I see the guard. It’s good but it’s military. I take a moment to thank Ranger, Tank, Les, and Bobby for giving me some military training. So this is confirming that Diego Blanco, James White, is involved.
I change into the camo, put on my hat and gloves, and black my face before pulling the mask on. I had to talk this plan through with Les to ensure it would work. It’s ridiculously dangerous and more apt to blow up in my face than not, but I’m making a statement.
To fuck with my son is to receive NO mercy.
I can kill you anytime, anywhere, and I will NOT hesitate.
You will NOT last long if you fuck with me or mine.
I strap the blades down and take the stolen sniper rifle out of its case. It’s amazing the weaponry you can pick up on the Atlanta streets. The silencer and the CornerShot are already on. I’m using Angelita’s circle defense, adapted to a hostage situation, in order to kill Mauricio.
Even after everything this asshole has done, I’ve always promised myself that I’d never kill him. He’s still Mijo‘s father. I’m more furious than ever that I have to break that promise to myself, but he will never put Mijo’s life in danger again.
I begin belly crawling the perimeter. The house is at the edge of a new subdivision, surrounded on two sides by woods. I see the motion detectors in the trees and brush and I slide past each one carefully. Getting in will be the hard part. I don’t care if I set one off getting out. Guards walk right past me, overlooking me. I’m tempted to snort. Clearly, White doesn’t give his men training. It takes two hours of careful maneuvering to get within sight of the house, and I crawl inside the doghouse and wait.
Eventually the house lights shut off and the flood light illuminating the yard is turned on. Silly Sureños. Those tricks are for kids. I dial the preset number and wait. I watch Nando drive by slowly, in my Lexus, looking out of the window at the house. Fernando is a distant cousin, Nikki’s cousin, and a Reyes. He was happy to help and he won’t talk. A minute later, they come streaming out of the house.
“We saw him! He’s scoping it out. Get him.”
They go running for their cars and I redial the number to give Nando the heads up to go. I smirk. You really think I’d be stupid enough to allow you to see me? You think I’m stupid enough to use my car for this?
What kind of assassin do you think I am? I’m insulted. You guys aren’t true bangers.
I belly crawl the house and climb in through a window. My entry is met by a Sureño. Bobby’s training comes back in an instant. I have him on the ground and unconscious before he consciously recognizes my presence. I tip toe quietly down the hall, checking rooms, ensuring I’m not being seen by anyone live. I check the entire house before heading back to the bedroom I know him to be located in.
I kick the door in and stand to the side. Smart move. The gunfire is almost instantaneous.
“The famous Asesino. A pleasure to finally meet the legend. Please, come in.”
I wait. Beware the fury of a patient man. I checked the room before I left the doghouse. Two bodies in this room. I assume that’s the gunman and Mauricio but I’m not taking chances.
I lift the rifle and watch him fire at it. Good. Center mass shots coming dead on. This will be easy. I look through the scope. He’s right there, dead center, like an idiot. No one else except Mauricio in the room and he’s been beaten to a near pulp. Fuck. I wanted the pleasure.
I slide the CornerShot forward while pulling the trigger. The CornerShot can fire at a 60 degree angle and my gunman goes down with two bullets while I’m still safely on the other side of the door. I run inside and pop one dead center in his chest. I remove the rifle from his hands and look at Mauricio. He looks grateful and I smile coldly.
“Not a chance. You were willing to kill your son,” I whisper, barely audible, in his ear. He shakes his head violently. “Then how did they find him?”
“They already knew. I knew that if I went with them, the school would call you, you would find out, and they would be thwarted.” He’s raspy with fear.
I’m thinking and that’s the stupidest plan ever. His presence confirmed they had the right place and, because Mijo knows his father, confirmed which little boy to snatch. IDIOT! I can only thank God that we’ve taught Mijo to go nowhere with his father unless Nikki and I are with him.
I make a phone gesture with my thumb and pinkie, then point at myself. He shakes his head.
“I don’t have your number.”
And you’ll never have that worry again. I check my watch. I need to be out of here in fifteen minutes. I turn off the fan and pull the chair over. I hitch the rope around the drop pole and shorten the noose. Familiar smell. I look over and Mauricio has pissed himself.
“Please! No!”
I shake my head. He’s already tied so this will be easy. I punch him in the temple, stand him in the chair and tie the noose around his neck. I wipe near his ear, just in case. No DNA from me.
I kick the chair away and walk out.
I set off every fucking alarm leaving. They’re in a panic trying to figure out where I am and I’m amused. I could mow them all down but two lives tonight is enough. That’s one more than I intended and I’ll need to go to Mass and pray for Purgatory. I doubt novenas from the Pope will clear me of tonight.
My phone beeps and I double time it to the road. Three minutes later, Adam pulls up and I hop in the backseat and begin stripping while he speeds away. He pulls over ten minutes later to give me time to clean up.
“APD is on its way. The gunshots were finally heard by the neighbors. Bloodbath?”
I shake my head. “Two dead.”
“Weapons?”
“Back here. Fernando?”
“RangeMan. Piman sends his regards.” I look over. Adam is smirking. “Fernando led them into a trap Piman had set up. They had fun taking care of 14.”
Thanks Piman but I work alone. Then again, that will muddy the waters so that was good.
Adam passes a thermos of hot towels so I can wipe off the blacking. I finish up with baby wipes and start pulling on Atlanta club attire. My alibi is a prerecorded video of myself at the club we’re ‘leaving’ now. Johannes is a genius with video manip, his hobby, and my presence there earlier in the evening gave him plenty of material to work with. Adam gets back on the road as I’m buttoning my shirt. We pass two APD cars leaving and the third car flags us down. I’m redressed and in the front seat now.
“Adam!” I breathe a sigh of relief. Adam knows these cops and he’s relaxed.
“James! What’s good?”
“Where you coming from?”
“King Wings.” Adam grins. “Leaving the clubs.”
The cops laugh. “Hell yeah! Great wings.” They nod at me. “Have you been near Camp Creek Parkway tonight?”
Adam shakes his head. “Nah. Just left a new club. They wanted extra security, so we wanted to see them in prime time.” He looks at his watch. “You guys good? We’re beat.”
They nod. “Yeah. Responding to a ‘shots fired’.” James snorts. “I doubt it’s anything important. I’ve got $10 on a drunken redneck.” He steps back and waves and we take off. I lean back and sigh.
I feel sorry for Atlanta CSI. They’re going to have a busy night tonight.
My phone beeps. Angelita.
“Yo!”
“Yo!” Piman? “I have Tigresa.”
WHAT THE FUCK!
Steph’s POV—10 p.m.
The club is in Miami Beach and Diego and Thomas are ready. Maria looks fantastic. She wasn’t kidding about the red dress and heels. Maria looks ten years younger and Thomas is acting as her escort tonight. She’s teasing him with ‘cougar’ jokes and he’s blushing, embarrassed.
“Maria, the way you’re acting, I doubt I would have had the energy for you in my prime.”
We laugh and Maria pokes him. “You’re barely over thirty. You mean the 20-year-old you couldn’t take me?”
“I don’t think the 15-year-old me could take you!”
I’m grateful I put on the waterproof mascara. We finally pull up to the club and I join the rest of the RangeMen at the entrance. Diego parks and rejoins us. We’re waved in and find a table in the VIP section of the club.
It’s a gorgeous Latin club with a great dance floor and lots of tables. Diego looks over and grins.
“I hear you’re no slouch on the dance floor.”
I grin. “I hope you can keep up.”
A RangeMan behind me groans. “What’s with the women tonight? All of you are acting like oversexed teenagers.”
I turn around and stare. So does Maria.
“Excuse me?” She glares, hands on hips. He shuts his mouth and the other men glare at him. “We happen to enjoy dancing and we’re good at it. If that makes us oversexed teenagers, then get a prescription for Viagra and keep up!”
I grin and high five her. I decide not to address the comment. It was stupid and Maria has handled it. Nice to see her put them in their places.
Diego and I hit the dance floor immediately and I’m soon dancing with one RangeMan after another. A merengue starts and Antonio approaches.
“May I?” I nod. We slide across the floor and he grins. “You’re good, Boss. Who taught you to dance like this?”
I smile. “Lessons as a kid. Hector and I hit the clubs sometimes.”
He nods. “Nice. We’ll have to come back. You move like a woman who knows what she’s doing.” He grins slyly.
I’m trying to decide if I want to take offense to that and I decide to let it go. “I’ve had years of dance lessons. I don’t like to let my mother’s money go to waste.”
A bachata starts and I break from his arms. “I can dance a bachata,” he says, smiling, not letting go.
“I only dance the bachata with the man who taught me. I doubt he would appreciate me practicing that one with someone else.” His smile drops and he lets go and escorts me to the table.
Diego looks confused. “You can’t dance a bachata, Steph?”
I smile. “I only have one partner for that dance.”
He smiles. “Then let’s get a drink.”
He escorts me to the bar, where I order a Sprite. Minutes later, Maria walks over.
“Stephanie, I need to use the ladies’. Join me?” I nod and hand the rest of my drink to Diego. We head to the ladies’ room, where Maria and I wait forever to use the facilities. We’re bumped and jostled while in line and I’m getting irritated, but Maria laughs and says that it’s common in Miami clubs. Not enough room. We finally get inside the restroom and are able to pee. As I’m finishing up, Maria calls, “I’m right outside the door, Stephanie.”
“OK.” It’s crowded in the bathroom and I don’t blame her.
I step out of the stall and that’s the last thing I remember.
I feel groggy. A straw is placed in my mouth.
“Drink.” I move my face. “It’s water.” I take a quick sip and sigh in relief. Water. I drain the cup and open my eyes.
There’s a woman in the room with me and three men. I’m handcuffed to the chair and there’s only one door. The woman leaves and I look around. One door, no windows. Crap.
“Ms. Plum?” I turn to look. Older white guy, buzz cut, hazel eyes. He doesn’t look very friendly. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Can’t say the same. I’d like to leave.”
He smiles. It’s not a friendly smile. “Not happening until we get some information.”
“I’m invoking my right to remain silent and I want my lawyer.” I’m trying to think if I have anything I can use to get out of these cuffs. I don’t think I have anything.
“Pity. We’re prepared to release you as soon as you cooperate.”
“Are you FBI?”
“None of your concern.”
“It is if you expect me to talk.”
He smiles again. “I expect you to talk because you enjoy life. I expect you to talk because you don’t want to be raped. I expect you to talk because you want to go home to your RangeMen.”
“Blah blah blah. Right now, I need to pee.”
“You peed at the club.”
“You knocked me out with something and I just drank a cup of water. First thing I do every morning is run to the bathroom. My bladder is talking.”
“You must be the world’s worst morning fuck,” one man mutters. The others laugh. I look over.
“If I pee on myself, you’ll be the ones smelling it for hours. Bathroom. Now.”
They look at me and the guy in charge nods. “Don’t try anything cute.”
I motion for the purse. They shake their heads. I smile. “Find. Then get me a tampon.”
They cringe (I’ll never understand that) and hand me the purse. I remove the tampon and glare. “Bathroom.”
Idiot A unlocks the cuffs from the chair and locks it onto himself. “Just till we get there.” We travel down the hallway to the bathroom, and he unlocks the cuffs and motions for me to enter. I enter the stall, open the ‘tampon’ and remove the bobby pin and the ring. The ring contains pepper spray and I hope I remember how to use it.
Thank you, Cindy. She told me that she advises every Atlanta woman to keep this in her purse. Just in case. It was her gift to me for passing RangeMan standards. I hope I don’t have to use Monica’s gift.
I work the bobby pin into my hair, pee and exit the stall. I toss the ‘tampon’ and situate the ring on my finger. I find the button on the side and smile. I exit the bathroom and nod. As Idiot A hands me my purse and reattaches the cuffs, the other two walk over. Good.
I lift my hand and press the button. The pepper spray catches all of them directly in the face. They drop to the floor, screaming, and I drop with them, eyes closed, playing along while I use the bobby pin to get out of the handcuffs.
Thank you, Hector, for teaching me how to do this with my eyes closed. Another reason to love you.
I finally get free and run forward. I nearly fall when someone reaches for my ankle, but I open my eyes and run down the hallway to the exit I saw earlier. Great, a stairwell. I start down the stairs carefully, hating the fact that these shoes have a buckle and I’ll waste time trying to pull them off.
I didn’t plan on being kidnapped tonight. I’ll wear my kidnap-friendly shoes to the club next time.
I’m grabbed from behind and the Trenton self-defense lessons kick in. I stomp his instep, put my elbows to his gut and sweep his legs. I see the other two agents catching up so I start running again. I finally reach the bottom (six flights? Thank god for the physical conditioning) and hit the emergency exit.
The alarm blares. So much for a quiet getaway.
I see the end of the alley directly in front of me and three men running for me behind me.
I look at my shoes. Damn. I’m definitely going to end up breaking a heel tonight.
Manny’s POV—1700, Baltimore, MD
I’m antsy. We’re waiting on the doctor to come back with Juana’s paperwork and I haven’t told her I’m taking her directly to Charlotte. I told Mrs. Baez that I was taking Juana to a safe place and she packed two suitcases, which I immediately stashed in Wifey’s car.
I needed a car that isn’t known as a RangeMan vehicle and Wifey insisted I use hers. It’s brand-new, blue, and it’s a sports car. She won’t be back for at least a month and I’m sure Ranger will have us move before then. No one would expect me to abduct Juana in it, it has the standard RangeMan protections and I’m taking her to a location that’s brand new. No one would look for us in Charlotte.
The doctor finally arrives. This is Juana’s first checkup since she was released from the hospital last week, and her mother accompanied her here. Juana is given her care paperwork and I lift her from the bed to the wheelchair. I kiss Mrs. Baez and promise that I’ll care for Juana; she’ll come to no harm with me.
This has to go exactly right. I coordinated with the hospital in advance and I’m using the exit for VIP patients. I exit at the first floor and wait for the beep.
“Manny?”
“Hmm?”
“Is everything OK?” Juana’s voice sounds so tiny and scared. I can’t wait to get her in the car and on the road.
“Everything will be fine. I won’t let anyone harm you,” I whisper. She smiles, a shaky smile, and kisses my cheek. My phone finally beeps and I push Juana forward. Woody exits the car, helps me get Juana settled in, and heads for the normal discharge exit. I make sure Juana is comfortable in the passenger seat and we pull out of the parking lot. I immediately hit I-85 for Charlotte. I hand her my phone and take her hand. It’s been a long, tense day.
Just as Juana and I were leaving via the back exit, her sister Lola was being loaded into a RangeMan SUV at the normal discharge exit, Mrs. Baez hovering lovingly. Lola and Juana look similar and Caesar is doubling as me. He will escort Lola to her mother’s house, along with a full contingent of Trenton RangeMen. If anyone is watching, they’re blocking the view. It’s enough men and firepower to assure anyone watching that they’re watching the right discharge.
“Manny, where are we going?” Juana’s been quiet, and clingy, ever since she woke up.
“Charlotte. We have safe houses.” She nods. My phone rings.
“Yo!”
“Yo!” Caesar. “Mr. White is an extremely pissed individual.”
I chuckle. “He found out we removed that chip from her?”
“I believe so. I took the liberty of leaving it at the discharge desk, taped underneath.” I look over at Juana, who is silently crying. Knowing that he chipped her broke her spirit. Chipped like a common fucking dog. It’s one thing to be chipped and know it, like I am. Another to be chipped without consent. I rub my thumb over her hands.
“What’s he doing?”
“Looking around pissed and harassing Mrs. Baez for Juana’s whereabouts. She told him that Juana’s recovering at home.”
True. My home is where she is. She told me her home is where I am. I think we’re going to give it another try.
“Thanks, partner.”
“De nada.” Click.
I look at Juana. “Step one is to get to Charlotte. We’ll stay with Mariela and Armando, the head of the branch and his wife, while you recover. After that, we’ll see.”
“Ranger’s involved, isn’t he?”
“Ranger is overseas.” I look at Juana hard and she swallows and nods. She understands.
“James White. You figure it out?”
“He’s Diego Mendoza. Diego Blanco Mendoza.” She nods. “When did you figure it out?”
“Two days before you showed up. It just clicked and I broke up with him that night.”
I nod and turn on the CD player. I pop in an Aventura CD and set the cruise control. We’ll be cruising for the next seven hours.
Ranger caught one of White’s calls to arrange an ‘accident’ for Juana. He intended to pick her up from the hospital but she would never get home. We managed to put this plan into place to extract her from the hospital in time to completely fuck up his plans.
I was amused watching him glare at me this morning when I arrived at the Baez’s to pick Juana up to escort her to the doctor. It was a dick-measuring contest and I clearly won. Again. Juana’s been by my side since I arrived and now she’s out of his grasp.
Still, that was a very close call.
A/N:
- Hector Manuel’s pseudonym is a combination of Les’s middle name (Alejandro), Ranger’s middle name (Carlos), and Bobby’s last name in Spanish (Castaño meaning ‘Chestnut’ instead of Brown.) Castaño is one of Hector’s aliases.
- Steph’s phone encryption was done by Nate in Atlanta. Encryption is his hobby. Everything I listed on Steph’s phone is available commercially for cell phones. If you’re interested in keeping your phone out of the PRISM program, it’s possible. The case law in regards to PGP encryption is unsettled, as our Unknown FBI Agent noted.
- Because I can sense the confusion: White was there for Juana’s discharge. When it was clear that Manny had abducted her, he hopped a plane to Miami (the reservation having been made in advance to provide him with an alibi during the time Juana ‘disappeared’), which is why he was there in time to harass the Unknown FBI Agent at 0200.
- Strongly suggest you read Part I of Lester’s Two-Shot, which will be released on Sunday.
- Gorge Schedule on my website under ‘Extras’. Check my profile for the link.
