Three worlds collide, p.27
Three Worlds Collide, page 27
Without hesitating, he turned away and walked across the hall to his smoking room. ABCs paused at the door, pulled out his phone, and scrolled through his contacts, searching for the number of his Shaman.
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The stage had been set for an outdoor performance. Despite the crowds, Armando insisted they force the dark sedan into the backstage area before the performance started. He was let out by a flustered driver to whom he rattled off detailed instructions for his plan after the performance.
He made his way around so he could see the stage. Although he stood off to the side, Armando tamped down his superiority complex and allowed himself to be part of the crowd of people enjoying the performance. The women were skilled and not only danced and sang but also performed on a variety of instruments. Armando had never smiled so much in one day. He clapped and moved his hips to the music, allowing their talents to seduce him.
After the performance ended, Armando hurried backstage. He had instructed the driver to situate the car so that the women would have to pass him on their way out. Armando stood beside it, the driver behind him at the ready. As the women made their way off the stage, Armando waved a hand and three boys hurried toward the women, carrying colorful bouquets bigger than they were. Each boy handed one to each of the women. Armando stepped forward, snapped a finger, and they scurried off to the car. The women paused, stunned by the weight of the unsolicited gifts. Exhausted from their performance, they exchanged dismayed looks, searching for someplace to set the heavy arrangements down.
Armando walked up to them as stately as he could and bowed his head slightly. He stood straight and surveyed the beautiful women before him. “Your performance tonight was inspirational.”
“Thank you,” they all said.
“I am Armando Cardentias,” he said his last name with a bit of a flourish of his hand, then watched them expectantly.
One woman stepped forward to speak for them, “We are The Paititi Three. I am Carmen, this is Rosaria and Frederica.”
Armando bowed his head again. “It is a pleasure to meet you again.”
“Again?” the woman asked.
“Yes, we almost bumped into each other on the street today in the market.”
Carmen thought for a moment. “Sorry, I do not remember.”
This wounded Armando a little, but he did not let it show. “I wanted to make up for my rudeness in the market by treating you all to an evening of dinner and music.”
He snapped his fingers again and the driver opened the trunk of the car. The three boys scampered around, lifted the gift boxes from the trunk, and hustled back to Armando, pausing behind him. Armando gave an amused look to the women before turning to whisper instructions to the boys. Then they hurried over to the women. One boy stood before each woman with the gift box held out. He snapped his fingers again and the boys removed the tops in unison. The women were shocked for a moment by the glistening necklaces inside—each had a different color stone. One blue, one green, and one red. The red one had been offered to Carmen, but she did not take it.
As they stood, breathing heavily under the weight of the flowers, a man came trotting up from behind Armando. “What is this car doing here?” he said, motioning to Armando’s sedan. The man surveyed the scene for a moment, then turned to Carmen. “I’m so sorry. We would’ve been here earlier, but we were blocked out by the crowds.”
The women gave him pained looks from behind the flowers. He hurried over and took them one by one from Frederica and Rosaria, then hustled to the side and set them on a table. He turned to go help Carmen with hers, but she put an arm out to stop him.
Carmen had been studying this man the entire time. She found his boldness obnoxious but had grown accustomed to adoring fans overstepping, especially wealthy men. She knew her car would be here soon, and, just in case, waited for her escorts to arrive before letting the man down easy. She waved off the boy with the box and walked up to Armando. Her dark eyes seemed to cast diamond sparks reflecting the lights from all around. Armando could only watch as she shoved the flowers into his arms. “We thank you for your offer of gifts, but we cannot accept such extravagances from a man we do not know.”
Armando stepped back, stunned. Two more men trotted up to Rosaria and Frederica, worried looks on their faces. One asked, “Is everything okay?”
The next performance was about to go on stage, but they had paused to watch the scene unfold. Armando looked around, suddenly conscious of eyes watching him. Watching him being refused—being humiliated.
Carmen gave Armando a level look, then turned to walk away. He dropped the bouquet, stepped over it, and grabbed her by the arm. She stopped and turned. The angry look on her face made Armando pause a moment, then he motioned his head for her to look down at his hand. She followed his gaze and saw the red scorpion tattoo. The Paititi Three were not from Central Mexico, but Carmen knew a cartel tattoo when she saw one. She turned, fully facing him, got close to his face, and said, “Do you think your reputation precedes you?”
Armando said nothing, only inclined his chin.
“I don’t know who you are, but I know what you are, and I would never accept advances from a man who does what you do.” She wrenched her arm away, turned, and walked to her car with Rosaria and Frederica.
“Leave us alone,” Rosaria added so everyone could hear. The three men followed, nervously watching behind them.
Armando watched them leave. They all got into another dark sedan, only longer, which backed away and pulled around his car to leave in a cloud of dust. Laughter floated around him from the dissipating crowd that had witnessed the failed gesture. Armando laughed it off as he snapped his lapels. But within moments, his face hardened. He motioned to the boys. They ran to put the gift boxes back in the trunk. The driver opened the door to the backseat. Armando threw a handful of coin on the ground before getting in. The boys fell to their hands and knees to gather them. Once inside, Armando gave the driver a single command, “Follow them.” He reached forward and pulled his handgun from the pocket in the back of the front seat and checked it. Then he made a call, ordering a nearby group of men from the Scorpion Cartel to meet him. “Right now,” he growled before slamming the phone down and letting out a wild scream. The driver cowered in his seat as he maneuvered through the crowds, doing his best to keep the other car in sight.
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“Are we heading to the workshop?” Sean asked.
“Yeah. We need to stop someplace secure, take a minute, clean up, and put together a game plan. I also need some privacy for a phone call,” Michael replied.
Jackie rustled in her seat. “I appreciate all this, I really do. But why aren’t we working with the police department?”
Michael’s expression hardened as he considered how to answer. “ABCs has corrupt officers on his payroll. Several in my department are under investigation for taking money, drugs, and other incentives. These officers inform him and turn their heads when needed to let his business operate.”
“It can’t be the whole department. I mean, at least some of the officers are still honest, right?” Jackie asked.
“Sure. But we are in the middle of an investigation and unsure as to the extent of his corruption. My instincts tell me he has enough people on his payroll to at least delay any action to save Elena. That delay would be long enough to disappear her.” Michael stopped there, he wasn’t going to say that it would be too late, not again.
Jackie’s expression became pained as she turned this over in her head. Then, with a look of realization, she asked, “You said ‘we’ are in the middle of an investigation.” She gave him a moment before continuing. “Are you working with Internal Affairs or something like that?”
Michael looked up and caught a sideways glance from Sean. He had slipped. He didn’t intend to reveal his involvement in an internal investigation, so he simply said, “Yeah, something like that.”
Sean sighed and shook his head. Jackie gave Michael a hard look. “We are about to risk our lives to save Elena from this monster. Everyone in this car deserves to know the truth. Now is not the time to hold anything back.”
Clay had been listening to the exchange in silence until that point. “I agree, and it goes without saying that you can trust us all to keep this just between us.”
Everyone nodded in agreement, including Martha. Sean spoke up, “Just tell ‘em, Michael. You’re about to risk it all anyway, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Michael replied as he turned and looked out through the cracked windows of his SUV.
“You really did a job on my Suburban, Clay.” Michael frowned as he took in the damage to all the windows.
“Take it up with Evan,” Clay barked.
“Maybe I will,” Michael shot back, unable to hide the annoyance in his voice.
Clay sat brooding in the back seat while Jackie reached out her hand and set it on Michael’s, giving it a light squeeze. “You can trust us. This is about Elena, nothing else. If we can save her, it should be worth anything that’s possible right now.”
He looked up at Sean, who felt his stare, and turned his head to nod in agreement.
“Okay.” After a deep sigh, Michael proceeded, “I’ve been frustrated for a long time. ABCs and his pawns have been getting away with just about anything, which made me suspicious. After some investigation on my own, it became clear that several officers were on the take. In fact, I had a hunch that Officer Hines was too, and his actions confirmed it this evening at the hospital.”
“The officer from this morning? The one who arrested the driver of the truck?” Jackie asked.
“Yes, the same. And by the way, they fast-tracked that guy’s bond hearing. Someone posted bail for him, probably ABCs. He was in and out of jail in a few hours.”
Everyone huffed out a breath in disgust as Michael continued, “It’s the same with anyone who comes in on any prostitution or drug-related charge. They are in and out. Almost none have done time.” Michael’s eyes took on a distant look as he followed his thoughts, long since honed into a crystal-clear understanding. “When drugs and prostitution and all that comes with it proliferate, it tears at the moral fabric of the places it infects, brings out the depravity of an otherwise good-natured community, makes it too easy for people to check out when things get tough instead of digging in and making the hard choices that lead to... I don’t know... Just about anything would be a better fate than what I’ve seen. The people I’ve pulled out of the mess ABCs has created are so badly broken... It stays with you.”
Murmurs of assent.
“It’s been frustrating,” Michael added.
“That’s an understatement,” Sean added.
“Yeah, so I took my own course of action. I’ve been looking for a way up and out of the department. One of the avenues I explored was the DEA.” Everyone sat in silence as Michael paused a minute to gather his thoughts. “Long story short, they approved my application. They brought me in on a probationary status pending the investigation into the department. I’ve been working with the DEA office in San Antonio to provide information that will hopefully lead to the arrests of not only the dirty cops but also their main suspect in Texas—The Alphabet King.”
“I’m glad to hear you’re moving up, but I don’t see how this can help Elena now,” Jackie said.
“I have someone I can call. Maybe get reinforcements we know we can trust. There are other resources that may be available. I won’t know until I talk to someone.” Michael took his phone out of his pocket and sent a text.
Jackie turned to look out the window as Sean slowed the Suburban. “That’s a lot of speculation. But given our situation, I can’t see any other options. I’d go in there after her myself if I had to.”
“Right and get yourself captured in the process.” Clay turned his head and winced in pain. “That guy made it clear he wanted to take you too.”
Jackie didn’t respond as Sean took a turn off the highway and then another quick turn into what looked like a massive industrial complex consisting of several nondescript buildings each a city block in size, spaced evenly inline. Every building had several bay doors. There was a tall fence surrounding the entire complex. Sean pulled up to a keypad and hesitated as he looked out the cracked window. Thinking the window might not hold, he opened the door, reached out, and entered a code. The gate rolled open and they pulled in.
Chapter Twelve
Detective Slade sat back in his chair in the privacy of his office on the second floor of the precinct. He had heard the conversation that just took place in the suburban, as well as all the events prior. In the melee, Michael had apparently forgotten about the flip phone in his pocket.
Slade had no one to consult on this. Grad school and marriage had forced him to leave his old life behind, and he had not yet made any real connections around the precinct. With a pregnant wife at home, he typically refused social invitations. To make matters worse, she had been battling excessive fatigue brought on by physiologic anemia. She could barely keep up with the day-to-day. He turned to look at her picture and wondered if he would be a good enough father. Melody was usually patient with his work hours, but lately had been more critical of the overtime because she needed his help. His eyes fell to his diplomas and the hard work he’d put in to obtain them. His college days seemed distant—another lifetime.
Slade tore his mind away from the past and turned back to his desk. His education hadn’t prepared him for this. He’d committed to helping an officer who had now gone rogue, which landed him in the gray area between right and wrong. When Streets asked him to communicate ‘off normal channels’, Slade suspected they might be forced to employ back-alley tactics—just not to this extent. Although he could not afford to lose his job, he could not leave a good cop hanging either—especially if he intended to stick out his neck to save a child from being trafficked. He thought of his unborn child, what he would to save her life in a situation like this. With that, all hesitation melted away.
Knowing now he had unwittingly signed on to be part of a corrupt precinct, Slade knew he had to do something to distinguish himself from the dirty cops.
Knowing that he and Officer Street were among the few that stood between a little girl and a life of misery, Slade knew he had to set aside his doubts and take action.
A plan came to mind, and his fingers went to work on the keyboard. The mouse moved smoothly on the soft pad as he brought up the software and files he would need. As he worked, he heard background noises from the phone, a soft crash, car doors opening and closing, tired sighs and footsteps... but few words.
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The bay door rolled back down and stopped with a soft metallic crash, the Suburban and its passengers safe inside the spacious workshop. Sean slid a bar in the frame to lock the door in place. Everyone piled out and gratefully took turns in the restroom built out in the back corner. With an office opposite the bathroom, the two small rooms along the back wall created a nook for a well-worn leather couch. A small wooden table and matching chairs were set up a few feet in front of it, along with a couple of side tables. Michael kept the space clean and open except for worktables, storage cabinets, and toolboxes lining the left side.
Everyone milled about the couch and table waiting for a turn in the bathroom. First out, Michael walked over and pulled a new dark gray t-shirt from a shelf. “Sean, can you help me get this off?” Sean came over and helped his big brother peel off the bloody shirt Jackie had cut up while treating his wounds, then they went over to a utility sink and used wet bundles of paper towels to wipe off dried blood. “Okay, help me get this on.”
After they got the t-shirt on, Michael popped the hatch on the back of the Suburban so he could access another bag in the stow space behind the third-row seat. He took it out and walked over to the long worktable that lined the wall and started to spread out the contents of his weapons duffel. Then he paused to look back over at Clay and his bloody shirt. He looked around and found an old dark gray tee in a cabinet and reached down under the table for an old pair of work boots he kept stashed in the shop. He went over to Clay and handed them to him. “These might be better than your sneaker slippers.”
Clay took them and looked at the tag sewn inside the boots. “Twelve—my size too.”
“We cool?” Michael asked.
“Yeah,” Clay replied. “We’re cool.”
Michael nodded and turned to walk back to the bench and the duffel. Jackie came out next and went straight over toward Michael to see what they had. “How can I help?”
He turned his head to look at her with a small smile. “Mind grabbing the med kit duffel from the truck?”
“Sure.” Jackie stepped around to the SUV and reached in for the bag.
“In the cabinet next to the table here, you’ll find some items to restock the bag.”
“Good idea,” Jackie said.
Before he could finish inventorying the weapons duffel, his phone dinged a text notification. “Excuse me, I have a call to make.” Michael headed to his office and closed the door before dialing the number.
“Connor.”
“Thanks for answering this late,” Michael said.
“Sure, what do you have that’s so urgent?” Agent Connor asked.
“We are getting ready to run down The Alphabet King.”
“What? Why the hell would you do that?”
“Long story short,” Michael paused a moment to align his summary of the day’s events. “One of his mules got popped with a sack full of merchandise. The driver almost hit a little girl because he wasn’t paying attention, and a good Samaritan had to save her. The driver hit the guy with his truck. I worked the scene, found the drugs, and made the arrest.”
“Okay, but why would you contact me about a routine bust?”
“Glad you asked. This is anything but routine. Apparently, ABCs took exception to the fact that his merch got confiscated and blamed the little girl, her mom, and the guy who saved her. The guy—Clay—had to be taken to the hospital. The mom, Jackie, and her girl, Elena, were there visiting along with me, my brother, and another woman. ABCs and his men attacked us at the hospital. The confrontation spilled out into the parking lot. They kidnapped the little girl, most certainly as recompense for the confiscated drugs. You know what happens to little girls who disappear into their human trafficking network.”
