Down the Rabbit Hole

by F J messina

  She took another breath. “Then one day this whacko sailor who was totally pissed at the government starts shooting up some post office in the city. It’s not the job of NCIS to jump in, they do investigative work; but his girlfriend is nearby and she’s armed, so she goes right in there to try to save anybody she can.”

  “Oh my God,” said Jet quietly.

  “Well the whacko sailor sees her and tells her that he’s got three hostages, three postal workers, and he’s going to kill them all. And she . . . she tells him that if he lets the others go that he can take her as a hostage. She says she makes a better hostage because she works for the Navy, just like him.”

  Sonia tried to take another breath but couldn’t. She coughed several times instead. “So, he tells her to put down her weapon and he’ll let the others go. And she does it.” Sonia’s body leaned forward and her brown eyes reached out to the empathy that was written on Jet’s face, on her lips, in her blue eyes. “And she does it,” she whispered softly.

  Sonia stopped for a moment and looked blankly out into the BCI offices. Then she continued. “So, the guy lets the three hostages go and then he makes the girlfriend call her office, you know, the NCIS office. Brad is there and he hears all about it with the rest of his guys. They all go flying down there. The police and MPs, the Military Police, they have the place surrounded by then but Brad sneaks past them and walks right into the place.”

  Sonia’s pace quickened. “The guy and the girlfriend are behind one of the counters by then, and he’s got some sort of box cutter right at the girlfriend’s throat. Without drawing his gun, so the guy doesn’t freak out, Brad walks right up to him.

  “The guy knows Brad must have a gun so he tells him to put it on the counter. And Brad does it. Then Brad says, ‘Time for another trade. If you’re any kind of man, you’ll take me as a hostage, not some little lady. Hell, she’s half your size.’ The guy doesn’t answer, so Brad says, ‘You got the balls to take a real man hostage instead of some woman?’ ”

  An image of the anger and fear Brad must have felt at that moment flashed through Sonia’s mind. “But then the guy loses it. He says, ‘Cool, I’ll take you as a hostage, hotshot. But that means I don’t need this bitch anymore,’ and he just pulls the blade across her throat, killing her instantly.”

  Sonia stopped again. Jet didn’t say a word, she just reached out and took hold of Sonia’s arm, squeezing it firmly, tears running down her own face.

  After a moment, Sonia took a breath and continued. “So, Brad goes nuts and charges the guy. But the guy gets to his gun first. The guy gets off a few of rounds and Brad’s hit several times, but he goes flying over the counter anyway and takes the guy to the ground.” Sonia sat up taller and gave Jet a weak smile. “Well, of course, as soon as the shots were fired, all kinds of police and MPs come rushing into the place yelling and stuff and they don’t see anyone in there. But as they come around the end of the counter, they see Brad holding the girlfriend in his arms. They’re both covered in blood, her blood, his blood.” Sonia stopped there and was still.

  “And the guy?” The words were shaky in Jet’s throat.

  Sonia swallowed hard. “They found him dead. Brad had grabbed his head and twisted it so hard he broke the guy’s neck and spinal cord. Brad said later that all he was doing was using the skills the Marines had given him before they sent him off to Iraq.”

  It took a few moments for Jet to digest the story. Sonia sank back in her chair, her shoulders slumped, her chin dropped to her chest. As she did, a thought clarified in her mind. She knew she wanted to work with Brad, to be his partner, maybe more than his partner. She knew as well, however, that if he came to see her in the same light he saw this other woman, as a victim, they would never be equals─in their work─in a relationship. No, she would have to come through this whole thing as the strong, competent person she knew she was─that she knew she had always been.

  Jet broke into her thoughts again. “And Brad. Was he okay?”

  “Yeah. Well, kind of. He was in the hospital for a week or so while the bullet wounds started to heal, but his friend said he was never the same.”

  Sonia stopped speaking. Jet let the silence hang in the room as she moved to the red chair across from Sonia’s desk, the same kind that sat across from her own.

  Eventually, Sonia took yet another deep breath and forced herself to sit up. She looked at her coffee cup but decided to pass. “You know, one night they were out drinking, Brad and the friend. I think she had it bad for him. And I think he liked her too. So, they’re out drinking and he tells her that it was all his fault that the girlfriend died.”

  “Because he rushed in to save her?”

  Sonia’s voice became stronger. “No. That’s the thing. Not because he rushed in, but simply because he loved her. It’s like he feels that once he loves somebody it puts them in danger. When she started to talk to me, she said something about it feeling like he was protecting someone. Well, I thought she meant he was protecting himself. That wasn’t it. He was protecting the other person.” Sonia touched her chest, covering her heart. “Jet, he’s been protecting me.”

  50

  Sonia had gone home with Jet that evening and slept on Jet’s couch, simply because she didn’t want to be alone. Without waking Jet, she’d gotten up early Friday morning, gone back to her own place, packed a few things, and left town. Driving up to Cincinnati, to the predominantly Italian neighborhood in which she had grown up, she’d spent the weekend with her folks. They, of course, had been able to tell that she was deeply shaken, but they’d had the good sense to mostly leave her alone and, in true Italian fashion, feed her well. Several times over the course of the weekend her mother had said, “Mangia. Mangia figlia mia. Eat, my child.”

  The only difficult moment in the weekend had come when Johnny Adams had called Sonia on her cell. Sonia had slipped off into the bathroom for a little privacy, sitting on the closed toilet, holding her phone to her ear─not on speaker. Though she had spoken softly, her voice had echoed in the old, black and white tiled bathroom. “Okay, Johnny. Thanks for waiting. How are you? . . . Oh, I’m fine. Just thought I’d get away and spend some time with my folks.” Her tone of voice had been much more subdued than her words. “. . . Monday? Oh, I don’t think so. Actually, Johnny,” she’d brushed that wisp of hair out of her face, “we really should talk . . . . No, no, it’s not that. It’s just that I think we need to take a break. There’s so much going on right now . . . . Yes, but . . . . Really, Johnny, my life, well . . . .” She’d run her fingers through her hair. “I guess I’ve just come to the conclusion that I need a little space right now. I’m just not ready to be in a relationship, and I don’t want to be unfair to you . . . . No, it’s nothing you’ve done. You’ve been so sweet and kind. It just wouldn’t be right . . . . Honestly, I just think it’s best we don’t see each other at all for a while. But I hope we can still be . . . Listen, Johnny. I’ve got to run. My mom’s putting dinner on the table. Thanks for calling. I’ll talk to you . . . Thanks for calling.”

  Sonia had hung up. She’d shaken her head. My gosh, Sonia, could you have been any more lame than that? There must be a better way to do that.

  Sonia drove the hour and twenty-five-minute trip back to Lexington on Sunday afternoon, the light green leaves of spring giving the rolling hills through which she drove a sense of freshness, of new beginnings. By Monday morning at ten o’clock sharp, she knocked on Brad’s door and entered his office. Robbie Alvarez was already there, and he and Brad were standing by the coffee pot, well into discussing how the DEA was trying to roll up as much of the drug operation as they could.

  “Good morning,” Brad and Robbie said almost simultaneously. Then Brad added, “Have a good weekend?”

  Sonia put on her best casual smile. “Nice. Just went home to see the folks and get in a little family time. Are we finally ready to talk about John Hensley?”

  Brad gave her a long look, a look that made it obvious that he
wasn’t buying her smile. “That we are.” He held a coffee cup out to Sonia as an offering. She shook her head.

  He continued. “Generally, a local murder is not a DEA issue, but since solving it might well help us bring in the real kingpin of the drug operation, Robbie believes he can help us with DEA resources. I’ve just been bringing him up to speed on your computer program and some of the characters we believe we’ve identified.”

  Brad sat down at his desk, while Sonia and Robbie sat in the two chairs across from him. Robbie turned his attention to Sonia. “So, you think this Sofia is up in Ohio, probably Cincinnati, and that he or she is the head of the whole thing.”

  Sonia nodded.

  “Then you’ve got this Forty, who you think is running the Lexington operation. Is that right?”

  Sonia sat up a little taller, remembering that the chair she was sitting in was meant to make her feel less important than ‘the man.’ “Yes, as far as we can tell from the emails. There’s an awful lot of traffic, so it’s hard to be sure. Also, there seem to be one or two other names that pop up a lot when you look at Forty’s communications.”

  Robbie looked to Brad, then back to Sonia. “So where do we go from here?”

  Sonia and Brad looked at each other, but neither jumped in with any answers. Robbie cleared his throat. “Well, clearly our first task is to find out who these folks are, but our real goal is to prove their involvement, not only in the drug operation but in the murder as well. That’s where the real leverage lies. If we can get them on the murder charge they’ll sing like canaries about the drugs in order to get a lighter sentence on the bigger deal.”

  Brad gave Robbie a wry smile. “Sounds easy. All we have to do is find out who runs this gigantic drug operation and then get them to very politely tell us that they just happened to have ordered the murder of Hensley. Nice.” Brad chuckled and smiled at Sonia. “What do we do after lunch?”

  “Okay, wiseass,” said Robbie, his bright, white smile reflecting his respect for his former colleague.

  “Of course, we’ve got that license plate as a starting point.” Brad’s blue eyes drifted to Sonia. “Thanks to Ms. Sonia, here.”

  “That’s right.” Robbie reached into his pocket and took out his smartphone. He scrolled around, checking some notes. “In fact, it leads us to a company in Cincinnati, Allegro Imports. They fly in inexpensive leather goods and wicker items from all over the world.” He gave them both a sly look. “There’s every chance there could be some funny business going on there as well.” Then he got more serious again. “The paperwork lists an Alexi Dimitrov as the head guy.”

  Sonia slid back in her chair. Brad and Robbie looked off absently, silently─pondering. Finally, Sonia sat up taller. “Actually, I might just have a plan that could help us find these folks. And after that, who knows.”

  Sonia didn’t go on, so Robbie looked to Brad, “Does she always hold back like this?”

  Brad’s blue eyes honed in on Sonia again. “Hold back? Those are not words I usually think of when I think of Sonia Vitale.” He smiled.

  “Okay,” she started. “What if we get back into the operation’s emails and generate a few of our own? We send one to Sofia, making it look like it comes from Forty. It could say, ‘Need to see you as soon as possible. Meet at my place at eight tonight. DO NOT RESPOND!’ Then we send one to Forty, making it look like it comes from Sofia. That one could say, ‘Need to see you at your place. Be there at eight tonight. DO NOT RESPOND!’ ”

  Sonia could feel Robbie’s eyes on her. “Go on.”

  She turned directly to him. “Do we know where Allegro Imports is located? Do we know how to find the car Sofia uses?”

  “Honey,” Robbie chuckled, “in today’s computer world, we can find anything.” He smiled. “That is if we know what we’re looking for.”

  Sonia sat farther forward in her chair, right at its edge. “So, we can do two things. First, we can just go out to Dahlia Farm and wait to see who shows up. Second, since we’re pretty sure it’s going to be Dimitrov, we put someone on that car to follow it. Most likely they follow Sofia and his car right down to Dahlia Farm, and then by implication, we have a pretty good chance of proving who those two folks are.” She could tell the guys were with her. “We prove Dimitrov is Sofia and Hollings, the farm manager, is Forty.”

  Robbie shook his head. “Well, that might leave us a bit short of proving who they are, but it sure gets us a reason to bring them in for questioning, and probably enough to get a search warrant as well.” He shrugged his shoulders. “We just see where it goes after that.”

  Brad sat back in his chair and turned to Robbie. “Sounds like a plan.” Then he smiled at Sonia. “A good plan.”

  “One other thing.” Sonia looked back and forth from Brad to Robbie. She spoke with a new-found authority. “I’ll find a way to send copies to those two or three other email accounts that seem connected to Forty. I’ll just make it look like they’ve been accidentally copied or something. Maybe, just maybe, one or two of them will show up as well.”

  Robbie stood. “The more the merrier.” He smiled down at Sonia. “Okay, let me call the Cincinnati office and get a team ready to tail Dimitrov’s car tonight.” He looked down at Brad. “We are doing this tonight, right?”

  Sonia jumped in. “Absolutely. Tonight.”

  “Okay,” said Robbie. “Sonia, you send those emails today. I’ll get the teams in place to follow Dimitrov and back us up.” He turned his attention to Brad. “Alright then, it’s a go. Seven o’clock tonight.” Robbie took a step toward the door, then turned back to Brad. “Why don’t you spend the day trying to talk the Chevy dealer into giving you a new Corvette, seeing as the other one didn’t hold up very well.”

  Brad smiled politely, then sat forward and rested his left elbow on his desk. He made a cranking motion with his other hand, slowly raising the middle finger on his left hand to indicate that he thought Robbie was number one in his book.

  A broad smile crossed Robbie’s face. “Back at ya, buddy.” He left the office.

  Sonia stood up to leave as well.

  “Wait a minute,” Brad said. But when Sonia stopped and looked at him expectantly, he seemed to be at a loss for words. She watched him struggle. Finally, the words came out. “Uh, nice job.”

  “Thanks,” Sonia replied. She walked out the door.

  51

  At seven o’clock that evening, Sonia and Jet walked up the steps to the white house. They were both wearing, black shoes, black tops, and dark jeans. Sonia was wearing her quilted vest, Jet her dark blue jacket. Sonia had copies of the emails she had sent that afternoon. Without knocking, they walked right into Brad’s office and found Brad sitting at his desk, Robbie sitting in one of the soft chairs. Sonia smiled and put her purse down by the umbrella stand near the door. “Good Evening.” She noted the surprise on their faces.

  Brad cocked his head. “What are you doing here?”

  Sonia looked quickly at Jet, then back to Brad. “What do you mean? We’re doing this tonight, right?”

  Brad answered quickly, nodding his head toward Robbie. “Yes. We’re doing this tonight. Robbie and I.”

  Sonia’s voice rose. “And Jet and I.” There was no question mark at the end of that statement.

  Robbie stood and turned to them. “No, no, ladies. I’m afraid there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding here. This is now an official DEA operation, and I’m afraid there’s no place for civilians here.”

  Sonia’s head bobbed back. Her foot started tapping. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re not keeping me out of this. If it weren’t for me, everyone in the world would believe that John Hensley committed suicide. Everyone, that is, except the people who killed him.” She wagged her finger at Robbie. “And if it weren’t for Brad and me, you would have no idea about the drug operation, or the distribution line down into Tennessee. Hell, the hub in Memphis for that matter.” She shook her head. “Oh, no. Brad’s going and I’m going too.” Sonia glanced at Jet
and then back to Robbie. “And so is Jet, my partner.”

  Robbie shot her a look. When he answered, he was almost condescending. “Well, of course Brad is going. We can make an exception for an ‘essential civilian,’ and he’ll come as one of those. But you and Jet, that’s not going to happen.”

  Sonia turned to Brad seeking support. Suddenly, his history of losing people he loved shot through her mind. She did understand, but still . . . . She looked directly into those bright blue eyes. “Brad?”

  Brad stood, walked around his desk, and approached Sonia. “Listen, babe.” His voice was soothing. “This could get dangerous. These could well be the people who killed John Hensley. I couldn’t stand it if somehow you got hurt,” his eyes turned to Jet, “or Jet either.”

  “No.” Sonia turned away from him, walking toward the window that overlooked East Main. At the window, she turned back to Brad, her expression firm. “Now you look here. I get it. I get that you don’t want me or Jet to get hurt. Well, you know what? I don’t want you to get hurt either. You or your buddy Robbie.” Her voice was strong, very strong. “But I’m not telling you to not go, am I? No. This is my case, our case, as much as Robbie’s. And if anyone is an ‘essential civilian,’ ” her fingers wiggled quotation marks in the air, “it’s me; me and Jet.”

  Neither Brad nor Robbie responded at first, but then Robbie spoke. “And exactly how do you come to that conclusion?”

  Sonia’s mind spun. “Well . . .” The words formed in her mouth as quickly as they formed in her brain. They flew out of her. “The car. The car you tracked down. With the license plate. That’s not the same car I saw on the day Hensley died. What if those two cars aren’t connected at all? Don’t you need someone to verify it’s the same car Sofia came in? And . . . .” Her mind was spinning. She knew how lame that first reason was, but she had to make her case. “And . . . . And as a matter of fact. How do we know that Dimitrov has anything to do with any of this? That he’s the guy who got out of the car and walked into the barn that day. Don’t you need an eye-witness to identify him as the same guy? Don’t you?”