by Margaret Kay
“Roger that, Razor,” BT replied.
Garcia clicked on that property and scanned through the information that displayed. At the bottom of the text were three words in bold red letters that caught his attention, “Do not approach.”
“Sonofabitch,” Garcia mumbled to himself. He flipped the switch, patching himself into the team’s communication channel. “Coop! Abort, abort, abort!”
A few seconds later came Cooper’s reply. “We’re holding, Razor. What’s going on?”
“I just decoded the remainder of the cipher. Andrews’ report is thorough. He notes that property should be avoided.”
“Avoided?” Shepherd questioned. “Any reason given?”
“No, but as detailed as this file is, I’d heed it.”
“Agreed,” Cooper said.
“Return to your previous positions,” Shepherd ordered. “I want all the information you have within the hour, Garcia.”
“I’ll have it all over to you as soon as I confirm the links and documents are secure. I have enough here to keep everyone at the agency busy for a week. Looks like Andrews spent months compiling this. I have to wonder why he didn’t turn in any of it.”
“Maybe he didn’t trust his chain of command,” Cooper suggested. He, Jackson, and Mother had pulled back to their vehicle and were preparing to leave. He gave one last glance in the direction of the building Mendoza had been in, and then turned the engine over. “Heading back to our locations now.”
“Roger that Coop.” There was a pause. “Garcia get me that intel ASAP,” Shepherd said and then dropped from the line.
Garcia shook his head. It was amazing the network hadn’t been infected or compromised while he was away. He knew the others obeyed Shepherd’s orders without question. He on the other hand, put the proper security protocols before Shepherd’s insistence. He began by making sure the files and links in the decoded cipher were safe. He was still working on it when Cooper and Jackson returned with a couple of pizzas. He hadn’t been hungry until he smelled it.
“There better be shrimp and pineapple on half of one of those,” he warned.
The men laughed. “That’s an abomination,” Cooper said. “But of course, we got you it.”
“Thanks,” Garcia said.
Cooper pulled several pieces onto a paper plate. He sat it down on the desk beside Garcia’s laptop. Then he stood behind him, looking over his shoulder. “Did you get that over to Shepherd yet?”
“No, I’m still checking to be sure it’s safe to upload to our servers.” He gave Cooper a little tour of what he’d found. “There is a shit-ton of intel here. Andrews definitely didn’t trust someone to have it.”
“I’m going to recommend to Shepherd that Vargas be kept out of the loop on this. He was Andrews section chief, the one this should have been handed over to. The fact that he didn’t, and that he encrypted the file screams that something is definitely off,” Cooper agreed.
Then Garcia showed him the document that listed out the owners of the New Mountain Enterprise building. He had already investigated the names. Mendoza’s alias of Raul Valle was an owner with an address in Arizona. The nine other names on the list, he’d discovered, were legal growers or dispensaries in five nearby states, Colorado, Utah, Arizona, New Mexico, and Oklahoma. Further investigation revealed that Raul Valle was a partner in a dispensary in Arizona too.
“Legal growers?” Jackson called from across the room.
“Yep, and cartel customers too from what I’ve figured out. Someone needs to spend a lot more time than I have, going through all of this. There are hundreds of documents and reconnaissance photos,” Garcia said.
Madison returned to the room. Her night had been quiet. Nothing suspicious came through the railyard during her shift. She and Cooper went to bed in the adjoining room. It was after that when Garcia finished packaging the information from the decoded cipher with descriptions and uploaded all of it to the servers. He messaged Shepherd and Ops when he was through and gave the file locations.
He grabbed the last piece of his pizza, which was cold, and then brought up one of the files that referenced the railyard they were surveilling. It was a big file, over a gig. He read through every document, reviewed every photo. Greg Andrews had been very thorough, of course he already knew that. If he hadn’t left his wife in danger, he would have respected the man.
There were dozens of photos of the Cumberland Tires warehouse they were watching, both inside and out. One photo showed a plain silver trailer up against the dock. He checked through all the other documentation. There was not a single mention of airport cargo, nor did the Sanitary Canal get even a footnote. He poured over the records. No ships, no airplanes, just truck trailers and rail schedules were referenced.
He did a similar deep dive into everything related to the New Mountain Enterprises facility. The drugs moved in and out in truck trailers hauled by independent over-the-road truckers. The majority of drugs processed at this location primarily went to the legal growers and dispensaries in those five states.
Even so, there was a sizable amount of heroine and cocaine processed at that facility as well, and from what Garcia could make out, some of the processed product went in the shipments to the legal growers, some were split off and shipped to the larger cities in the area by a variety of means. Once there, he knew the product would be received by the highest-ranking cartel member and then passed to the smaller distributers, who would pass it to their people who sold the poison on street corners, school hallways, and in dive-bars.
He made his report and sent it off to Shepherd and Ops. It was nearly zero-five-hundred. Jackson had long-since been asleep on the couch in the room, having returned from checking the one and only shipment that flagged as suspicious. Garcia grabbed a water bottle and stepped out into the quiet of the pre-dawn morning. The air was still, a warm eighty degrees, with low humidity. The moon hung heavy in the western sky. The first rays of the new day were just cresting in the east.
His thoughts went to Sienna. Breaking into that file was a major accomplishment which helped to remove her from danger. She would be safe soon to go wherever she wanted. He knew he wanted her to stay but wasn’t sure what to say or do to make that happen. How would he convince her to stay with him if returning to her life in Virginia was what she wanted?
He pulled out his cell phone and tapped out a good morning message to her. It was early and he didn’t expect a reply. The return message instantly popping in, brought a smile to his face. He dialed and brought the phone to his ear.
"Good morning,” her sleepy voice answered.
“Good morning, yourself. It’s early. What are you doing awake this early? I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, I was awake. I’m meeting Angel in the gym at six. She said Shepherd can watch Sammy if we go early.”
Garcia chuckled. Colonel Shepherd on baby duty. He couldn’t picture it. He was glad though, that she was staying busy and spending time with Angel. Angel had gone through hell and came out whole on the other side. Not many could claim that. Angel was the perfect person for Sienna to spend time with. “Good. I’ll be going to bed soon and just wanted to check in with you before I did.”
“Were you up all night?”
“Yeah, and I got the document decoded and fully reviewed. Greg was thorough. The intel he got that we now have, is significant.”
“That’s good I guess,” she murmured.
“Sienna? What’s the matter? It is good, very good.”
“Was it worth his life? Why didn’t he turn it over to anyone? Why did he involve me in it? I didn’t even know what he really did, wasn’t a part of any of it!”
“Sienna, please don’t cry,” Garcia said. “I don’t have any of those answers for you. I wish I did but he didn’t have any explanations in the file. I don’t know how he could have put you in danger. I never would. I promise that if I ever suspect you’re in danger, I’ll squirrel you away someplace safe until it’s over.”
&
nbsp; “Like the Silo?”
He smiled to himself. “The Silo, that apartment at HQ, anyplace where I’ll know you are safe. But we don’t know how it all went down for Greg. I don’t think we should judge him without knowing all the facts,” Garcia sad. Yes, he was being very generous, but he didn’t think Sienna needed to hear how big of a scumbag he thought her dead husband was.
“I suppose not,” she agreed.
Garcia’s call waiting signal chimed. He viewed the screen, Shepherd. “Shepherd is calling, Sienna. I have to take it.”
“Sure,” she said. “I hope to talk with you more later.”
“Me too,” he said. Then he switched over to Shepherd’s incoming call. “You’re up early, Shepherd.”
“And I see from your report that you never went to sleep. It’s nice to have you back, Razor.”
Garcia’s lips twisted into a smirk. He too was glad he was back. “I had to figure a few things out.”
“Looks like you figured a lot out. If I’m reading your report right, you’re suggesting we pull all surveillance from the two other locations and concentrate on the railyard and that target warehouse.”
“Affirmative. Those other locations aren’t mentioned in this file anywhere. The drugs are coming in by either truck or rail and they’re passing right through this railyard.”
“I agree,” Shepherd said. “And I have spoken to Manning too. He’s looking more into Vargas. I agree with your assessment that Andrews didn’t find it safe to turn in his report. Vargas or someone else in the office or up the chain of command was not trusted by Andrews. I wish he would have noted in his file who he suspected.”
“Yeah, there’s a lot I wish he would have done differently.”
“Good work. Get some sleep.”
“Yes, sir,” Garcia said.
Tango
It was nearing eight p.m. and Sienna had been alone in the apartment for nearly two hours. She had no idea what was on the television that filled the room with background noise. She had finished the book she’d been reading and was into and had started another, which failed to capture her attention. It sat on the table. In her hands was Angel’s iPad. She was mindlessly playing spider solitaire. She hated any type of computer or video games; had always thought they were a waste of time. But it had been a long few days and she needed something mindless to occupy her time.
She had worked out in the gym that morning with Angel and Michaela, after sleeping in. She hung out in the kitchen near Angel’s desk for part of the afternoon and had dinner there with Angel and Michaela. She really liked both women. They were warm and genuine. Dinner was the first time she had really talked with Michaela. She still shook her head at herself, feeling jealous when she saw Anthony embracing the dark, exotic beauty that first day they arrived.
The text alert on her phone chimed. She grabbed it, hoping it was Anthony. It wasn’t. It was Angel. The message read, ‘You up for some company? Sammy and I are heading down to Ops. We could swing by and get you.’
‘Sure,’ she texted back. Then she went into the bathroom to view herself in the mirror. She wet her hands and splashed water onto her face. Then she ran her fingers through her hair. The curtains on the window were open. The room faced west. She could see the last traces of the sun sinking low on the horizon. The sky was clear, and it looked like a beautiful evening. She wished she were outside.
A knock at the door tore her attention away from the window. She opened it to find Angel standing in the doorway with Sammy in her arms. Angel was dressed casually in capri-length leggings and a tank top. Sammy already had on a lightweight sleeper. The small bag that Angel carried with a few baby necessities, a mini-diaper bag, was slung over her shoulder.
“Hi, I’m glad you were up for some company.”
“Thank you for thinking of me. Why are you going to Ops?”
“Shepherd is pulling a short shift to help out. They’re pretty short staffed with everyone in the field. It’s quiet there now, so I was going to let him have some time with Sammy. When we stay with him, he usually holds him and talks to him for a few hours every night during Sammy’s fussy time. That helps me get a little time to myself.”
“You named him after both Shepherd and Anthony,” Sienna thought aloud. She wouldn’t ask.
“Yes,” Angel said with a smile. “Both Jackson and I wanted to honor them both. They’ll be his Godfathers when we have him baptized.”
“You do know there is an actor named Samuel Jackson.”
Angel chuckled. “Yes, and probably hundreds of other people too. Both Shepherd and Anthony are important to us, so his name wasn’t even up for discussion. We both assumed that was what it would be.” Angel entered her code and her hand print got them access to Ops. They pushed through the door to find Shepherd and Yvette within. “Don’t you ever go home?” Angel asked Yvette.
Yvette shrugged. She looked tired. She’d been on for sixteen hours already. BT and Miraldi were in their offices catching some z’s. They had each put in nearly eighteen over the last twenty-four hours. With the arrival of the trailer, the assumption was that something would go down after dark.
“Is all still quiet?” Angel asked, her eyes viewing the monitors. The larger center monitor showed the building at the trainyard. A semi-trailer was backed up to one of the loading dock bays on the north side of the building. Two of the smaller side monitors displayed bodycam footage from two people. She squinted at the screens. Their callsigns were in tiny lettering, Razor and Lambchop.
“Yes, the trailer was left there a few hours ago. No one has been around. Garcia and Lambchop are moving in to poke around, see if they can take a look inside that trailer. The rest of the team are geared up and close.”
Angel pointed at the monitors. “That’s Anthony on the left, Landon is on the right,” she told Sienna.
Angel was just about to hand the baby to Shepherd when Garcia and Lambchop arrived at one of the doors that led into the east side of the building. They watched them clip the lock and enter. Inside, it was a large shadowy space. The last remnants of daylight reached just within the few dirty windows on the far side of the warehouse. It was still too much light for the men to use their night vision goggles but there was not enough light to give them as good of a view of the interior as they would have liked.
It took just a moment for each man to adjust his eyes to the dim lighting and then they moved forward. One was momentarily seen captured in the other’s bodycam footage as they shifted carefully through the cavernous building, covering each other and moving forward cautiously.
They stayed in the shadows along the south side of the building and moved between the few crates and boxes that were near the walls. All was going smoothly. Across from them on the north wall was the bay that their target trailer was butted up to. The bay door was open and the rear of the truck was surrounded by a seal that fit snuggly. That was their destination, once they were assured the remainder of the building was clear.
Garcia was in front. He passed around a crate that was positioned up against the metal wall. To his left up ahead, the first door of three that led into offices, appeared. They had studied the diagram of the building in their planning and pre-mission verbal run through. In Lambchop’s footage, Garcia approached the door.
And just like that it turned quickly, the events which followed played out in a matter of seconds. The door was locked and wouldn’t open. Garcia moved on, his attention focused on the next door, five feet further down the wall. All at once, the first door flew open as a large man filled the frame trying to process the scene. Before the guy could lift his Beretta, Lambchop double-tapped the bear of a man. Both hit the man, square in the back. He crumpled to the ground. Even though Lambchop and Garcia had suppressors on their AR’s, the sound of the gunfire was loud enough to make both Angel and Sienna jump.
Garcia turned back, his camera feed now showing Lambchop, whose large form was still pressed against the crate. Garcia moved back towards the open doorway, his
AR leading the way. In Lambchop’s footage, they watched Garcia approach the open doorway and the man lying motionless in the expanding pool of blood. He kicked the man’s pistol away. From behind Garcia, a shadow, a person appeared. Garcia’s body mostly blocked it, preventing a clear shot by Lambchop.
“Down,” Lambchop yelled.
Garcia dropped and rolled. Lambchop pressed twice in quick succession. High velocity rounds tore through the man's chest. The man didn’t go down. He stumbled and brought up his AK.
Pap! Pap! Two more suppressed rounds from Garcia settled it. The thug hit the cement and moved no more. Garcia shifted his gaze, his weapon trained at first, back towards Lambchop, checking behind him. Clear. He swept to the left and then right, both clear, before training his weapon in the same direction Lambchop’s was, at the open doorway.
“Team two and three, move in. Repeat move in,” Yvette alerted their team who still remained outside.
