by J. T. Patten
Hello?
Havens spotted Lars stepping out of his car as he raised his head in time to momentarily lock eyes with the passing car’s driver.
Holy shit that guy could have passed for…
Lars walked out from the parking lot and into the street, his eyes following the passing car.
Havens looked in the rearview mirror without moving his head. He watched Lars step into the street.
Shit. What are the chances? I know his head is spinning now.
Havens pulled out his phone and dialed.
Chapter 45
“Doctor, we got the results back from the labs you ordered on the patient in 416.”
“Thanks, Brenda. Leave the charts up on the desk and I will take a look after lunch. Hey…who brought in pizza?”
“Some drug vendor. If you want deep dish, there is stuffed spinach in the second box. Can’t pass up Giordano’s. Plus, I wouldn’t mind getting your opinion on the labs while you’re here.”
The doctor grabbed a paper plate, reached for an end slice of the thin crust sausage pizza and stuffed it in his mouth while opening the second box.
“Mmmhmmm?” the doctor murmured as he pawed apart two deep dish pieces tethered by strands of cheese.
“Well the cell count was lower than you were thinking. I saw a trace of something else but it would need a toxicology test. I’d need your approval and then I’ll code it.”
The doctor had another mouthful, this time of the stuffed pizza. As he spoke the tomato and spinach on his teeth moved with his tongue like wiper blades cleaning bugs off a windshield.
“There’s no need for a tox,” he said dismissively before biting off another piece of pizza, cheeks still bulging with previous bites.
“Doctor,” the nurse said rising from her chair. “Look at these numbers.” She held her gaze and handed him the report.
The doctor rolled his eyes knowing she was not going to let this go unless he gave her a couple minutes of his time. He put his plate down on the makeshift buffet table and grabbed a napkin. He wiped his face and wadded the napkin in one hand as he began looking over the report. He stopped suddenly mid-chew and spit out the glob of dough and toppings in a nearby trash can.
“Just a sec.” He moved around the nurse station desk, eyes trained on Maggie Havens’ room. “I want to have a look at her.”
Chapter 46
“Hey Lars, was that you?”
Lars’ suspicions were confirmed the moment he saw Sean’s name appear on the caller ID of his phone.
“Yes, and what, may I ask, are you doing… not being you? Whose car was that?”
“New job thing. A soldier’s wife is getting harassed while walking home from the high school down the street. Just checking the area out before I meet with her. I was just over at the school trolling a bit. How about you? Thought you had a mountain of paperwork?”
“Yeah, I had some follow-up questions in the neighborhood and stopped by for a bite. They have a fleet of cars for you guys to use? That seems like a lot of overhead for a non-profit.”
“Oh, I just asked to borrow one of the admin’s cars who was coming into the office late since she couldn’t find parking near the building. She thinks I had to run out for a minute and didn’t want to take my car out of its spot. I said I’d park it for her in my place afterwards since I had some more errands to run.”
“So why didn’t you just change it in the first place? Where is the office?”
I don’t trust you, Seany. You are a shady dude. What are you doing in this area?
“I was parked a couple blocks away and figured she could just pull up. Anyway, just wanted to say hello since I saw you and figured a good sleuth like you would be wondering if that was me or not since we appeared to have had a moment.”
“Well, I was wondering.”
Havens jumped back in, “Well I was wondering why you were looking so close into the eyes of another man. Have something to tell me Lars?”
Lars wasn’t in the mood to be teased.
“Sean, I gotta go. Talk to you later,” he replied shortly and hung up without another word.
You’re growing colder, Lars. What’s going on in your head?
Convinced that Lars would actually be eating for the next ten minutes or so, Havens made a few more turns and parked on a street behind his mark’s store. He quickly walked along the side of the building and then lingered out front, hoping to be spotted by the proprietor. After making brief eye contact through the front window with the man behind the counter, Havens opened the door to the sound of jingling bells and walked in. The merchant placed something under a stack of papers and moved his phone from the counter to a drawer underneath.
Chapter 47
Harrison was briefing the team north of the city in a GSA-leased building that Draeger had found. It was paid and devoid of a tenant. A product of government waste perfectly suited to such activity.
Over time Harrison had made a number of adjustments to the team. A few became a bit frenzied after one particular job staging a Mexican drug cartel hit on a family. It was one of their first and Harrison thought it best to eliminate the entire team. Others had simply gotten too close to each other. Some needed to serve a higher purpose. Those men who were no longer needed were sent on a long journey in a COSCO container by sea while others found their way by rail. They would not require accommodations such as air holes.
Given the similarities of disposal, it could be easily construed as the M.O. of traffickers. In actuality, the men had done their jobs well, but a few slip-ups and a sharp detective almost blew their cover with the drug cartel crime scene. It was good to have that detective on the payroll now to avoid such inconveniences. When possible, the Activity put such astute individuals on the payroll, but in a couple of instances detectives had to be eliminated to ensure a less seasoned one would take over the case and produce less effective results. Even those added to the payroll were eventually eliminated once their usefulness expired. The jury was still out as to how long Lars would remain useful.
With a pause in the rundown, one of four Hispanic operators asked, “So who is this guy we are going after?”
“He is a known money launderer for Hezbollah. He is being monitored by OFAC but due to some jurisdiction issues, there is little evidence obtainable at this time without probable cause or something like that for Feds or law enforcement to enter his premises for a search. However, we know from our assets that he is involved in lethal aid logistical and financial support through his network. Our intent is that with our operation tonight law enforcement can come in and do site exploitation while investigating the crime and find some items that can link this man to other criminals and agents for Hezbollah.
“And what if they can’t?” another operator inquired.
“That’s not for you to worry about. At the very least it will open up some opportunities to expand investigations to some of the criminal elements in the area. If you look around, you can probably tell why you were selected, and it’s not just based on skills.”
“Hey, chief, my parents are Greek. I just look Mexican. I’m starting to feel discriminated against. Where is my HR rep?”
The room chuckled as the operator put his hands up in mock protest.
“With a flat nose like that you’re practically Mayan,” another operator retorted. “You must have gotten your ass kicked a lot growing up.”
Harrison raised a hand. “Gentlemen, please. Game face time. This mission is not to be carried out in military style. Precision, yes, but style has to be street. It can’t look like a robbery either; we need it to be a signature gang hit like this shop owner did something to cross someone.”
“Rico, you are locks and picks. I need you to put this collateral in any filing cabinet or moderately well hidden place in the store so it doesn’t look like it was left out, but not locked up either. CPD evidence will need to find it, but our orders are to leave room for proper chain of evidence collection to show the where a
nd how of discovery to be realistic. I have a sheet for you to review from our J35 of Plans on how I want this to look. Copy that?”
“Roger, sir.”
“Then you’re all going to scatter as planned. Your vehicles should be left outside another designated shop a few blocks down from where you will be.”
Harrison showed the driver and team lead a map point signifying the location.
“Meet back here for a debriefing tomorrow morning and we’ll discuss the next leg.”
“We going to have to get our homies in more trouble?”
“Nope, we get to rattle someone else’s cage next time. Review the board and the plans for the next few hours and work out your roles. Make sure, Rico, to get the shop owner’s prints on the files. You also need target in position for execution style if possible. He has to be hit by 21:45.”
Harrison wondered who he was going to pick to beat the corpse with a bat or two by four to further stage the crime. This zombie crew was selected by their military files for their aptitude but also for the low psychological scores for remorse. They were less professional than other teams that consisted of men like Havens and Gunny Gonzalez who were driven by acts committed against their family. These goons were just driven.
“Hey, boss, why 21:45? You trying to make the news?”
“Exactly.”
Chapter 48
The shop owner walked to the door to greet his customer. He was wearing a traditional sleeved tunic over slacks. His graying but trimmed moustache and designer glasses signaled to Havens that he was a man of traditional values who likely had money and some education. Given the neighborhood, Havens surmised this man either made a decent living before and may have lost work, as many PhD cab drivers can relate, or he was making more than he should at such a location given the economic status of the area and the type of goods on display.
“Hello, sir. Thank you for coming to my store and seeing us today. How may I be of help to you?”
The man cocked his head slightly to the side while smiling and clasping his hands together. Havens always appreciated the graciousness of Middle Eastern hospitality. It warmed him slightly despite the likelihood that this man was up to no good.
Havens gazed around the store processing his surroundings and trying to retain as much as possible, noting anything that could be of importance later.
“Well, I didn’t actually intend to come here, but when I saw the store, I thought perhaps you may have a few good deals on some electronics. I am in need of a small inexpensive radio with an alarm. Mine just shorted out. But I also see you have some remote control toys that my nephew might like for his birthday.”
The merchant reached out to Havens and grasped his upper arm firmly but without hostility.
“Yes, sir. You will be very, very pleased with what we can provide you. We have the best that I personally select. I am expert in this area of electronics with three masters degrees in electronics. Three!” the merchant chortled.
In typical bazaar merchant fashion, he drew Havens over to a number of random clock radio boxes that had worn edges and dusty plastic wrapping with cords hanging out of the cardboard encasements. The merchant threw open his arms in proud presentation as if it was the finest the world had to offer. A treat for this customer alone.
“You see, I have much for you here, my friend. Panasonic, Sony—I have the best! Which would you choose? I take it to the front for you while you look some more.”
“Oh, I suppose the Panasonic is just fine. Does it have a snooze button?”
“Yes, of course it has the snooze.” The merchant drew out some reading glasses that were likely a $5 pair in a $100 case. He switched his current glasses out and put the readers on, drawing the box near in order to see the actual product capabilities. The action demonstrated to Havens that the owner spoke first and verified his claim later as a mere technicality. A common cultural trait. “Yes, yes, sir, it does indeed say it has the snoozing for you. I will let you buy this one for you. It’s very, very good one. Very good quality.”
“How much?”
“This one…” The man moved the box around as if there would be a price tag. “This one is thirty dollars.”
“Thirty dollars?! That is a ten dollar clock at best!”
“No, no, no, sir. This is a very good clock. Panasonic does not make a ten dollar clock. I already give it to you for a good price of thirty dollars. What would you pay?”
“Maybe twelve.” Havens couldn’t resist haggling and it also bought some more time to look around the store.
“Please, sir. Can you pay twenty? It has the snoozing.”
Hmmm. My guess is that if this guy was doing something really shady, he probably would just want me out of the store as fast as he could. Let’s get towards the back of the store and see how he feels.
“I’m not so sure. I still have to buy a gift. Let me look around a bit.”
“Yes, sir. Please look around. The toys are by the register here.” The merchant motioned towards the front of the store.
“What is your name?” the merchant asked. “I am Adeel,” the store owner said, extending a hand to Havens.
“Alex,” Sean replied, meeting the man’s outstretched hand.
Adeel clasped Sean’s hand with both of his and vigorously shook it with exaggerated honor and salesmanship. “Alex. Alexander the Great! You are a great man. I can tell. You look very smart. Please. I will show you some more, Alexander the Great.”
I really didn’t want this much interaction. “That’s OK. I kind of want to look around. You have some interesting things here.”
“Yes, sir. You may look around if you wish, but over here is food items that you may not like unless you can cook. This is for our women customers.”
The merchant again cast his arms out to what did indeed look like food stuffs to include sacks of rice, canned goods, and a small produce area of mangos and assorted nuts and dates.
I think he really is trying to be helpful. No one else appears to be here. This does not seem to be a dark hawala shop at first glance. What could be going on?
“So, what got you into the retail business with all the electronics degrees you have?”
“Ah, very good question, sir. I am happy to tell you. I have the degrees from Pakistan, and from Penn State, and IIT. I am programmer for telecommunications controllers at Motorola for many years, but they sell off my group. I work for the railroad to make controllers for the switches and train controllers but then these bastards too have me to go away because I am too rich for them to pay. It is the bullshit, man. You know what I say? The bullshit! What is it that you do?”
“I’m just a teacher down the road. Subbing now, trying to find something. Hey, do you have any remote control cars that aren’t too much?”
“Yes, sir, they are right over here, but do you want to see something? I have the remote control helicopters. They are my specialty and I make them myself. A teacher. This is a very good job. Not good pay. Let me take you over here, Mr. Alex the teacher. I will teach you something!”
Chapter 49
Lars ordered another glass of milky white horchata. He was stuffed but wanted to sit tight with Havens in the area. Best to order some more chips to clean off the remaining pieces of carnitas, adobo carne asada steak, and globs of guacamole and salsa in a pool of chorizo oil that had not quite held together in the last bites of the two pound Burrito Gordo.
He’d give it another thirty minutes just to be sure he wasn’t within contact. Lars remotely accessed his cloud files to review a number of scenarios the consulting firm had sent him. At this point Lars was convinced he had been duped into working for a criminal organization to cover up hits. Lars’ mind was like a sponge. He noticed random events on the news and read cases at the department that pointed to scenarios he had advised on. This is not what troubled him though. He figured if they were criminals they were likely going after other criminals and he was getting paid to have bad guys fight it out with each other
. He just wanted to make sure he didn’t become a loose end to someone’s security.
Slowly munching on the last bits of his dinner and flicking through the files on his phone, Lars considered the situation. He could put his new house in Arizona in a trust so he couldn’t be traced and then have all his mail sent to a PO Box, but he would have to look into things a bit more before finalizing his plans. It would be a pity to retire only to be killed shortly after.
Chapter 50
He explained that he was particularly proud of this model because it had incredible lift and was capable of supporting nearly a pound of additional weight. The design would be complete later in the day. He was in the middle of welding what looked like a piece of rebar from the frame to tail.
“What’s this piece?”
“This is a special metal with great strength but is much lighter than steel.”
“Why do you have it on there?”
“Mr. Alex, this I admit I do not know. They have asked me for more of these kinds.”
The shop owner proudly bragged about how he had augmented the 3.5 channel transmitter with his own electronic recipe of configuration to ensure no interference to also meet the specifications of the customer.
“So what kind of customer buys one of these homemade units? Do they cost a lot?”
The shop owner grinned.
“I have collectors from all over the states and I have even made some for the U.S. government.” He lowered his voice and looked around cautiously although the store was empty.
“I can protect the homeland security. They have called me for the special ones like these with the bar. I am very, very good. Someday, I hope to be a big defense contractor, you know.”
