by Frank Perry
asked, “John, what does the FBI need to get this whack-job off the street for good?”
John smiled. “Hunter, we need to catch him in the act of a class one felony (Punishable by death or life imprisonment). He’s been building his empire for twenty years and hasn’t even gotten a speeding ticket.”
Hunter persisted. “What do you need to convict him?”
John and the other two spent another half hour talking about the kind of evidence or circumstance that would put Peña away for good. Hunter grew more agitated at the roadblocks to justice, and John became wary that Hunter would do something as a vigilante or freelancer. As dialogue became intense, John finally concerned, “Hunter, I advise you not to do anything outside the law. It’s not only for your safety. Peña is a major flight risk – literally. He keeps a private jet ready at SFO (San Francisco International Airport) all the time and has a fortune in offshore accounts. If he gets spooked, we lose him for good.
Hunter hadn’t been gone from Washington long enough for Claire to be in immediate danger. John would be a frequent evening guest for a while and could sleep over if Hunter wasn’t around. Hunter only had a few days to work before his absence was an issue. He frequently went back to California to work with the state staff, so his being with Claire for a few days shouldn’t alarm Peña, but he’d have to work fast.
Enterprise Rental Car drove a plain-looking Ford Fusion to Claire’s house around four o’clock in the afternoon, and Hunter rolled one of his large bags to the front door. Claire asked, “Are you going somewhere?”
He glanced at her momentarily then opened the door. “I’ve got to go out for a while. I may be gone until early morning, so keep everything locked. I took the extra key.”
Before Claire could inquire further, he closed the door behind him and was gone in the car seconds later. She had no idea what was going on but worried about her brother. She knew he’d done dangerous things before, but never against someone like Peña. She thought about calling John but didn’t know what she would say.
After driving to the Enterprise office and depositing the driver, Hunter was on his way to San Jose. He needed to check on Sue Ann, and then do some reconnoitering around Peña’s boats and office. One thing John suggested that would bring the drug boss down would be to catch him with a large drug shipment. The FBI was sure that his boats were involved somehow, but they were never able to catch him, even after searching them. Peña was doing something unconventional, but they didn’t know what it was. Hunter wasn’t restricted by messy legalities like search warrants. He wanted to know how it was done to help snare Peña. He also wanted to know where he lived and all about his family
Two hours later, he merged onto Highway 101 from I-880, heading north less than a mile to his exit in San Jose. Sue Ann might be with her parents, but if not, he was going to do some convincing to get her to stay with Claire. He’d only been to her apartment once before and was driving by memory. The area near NASA Ames is congested with apartments and most looked the same to him. He thought he was at the right complex and remembered that her building wing was closest to the entrance. He drove around a couple times looking for anything familiar then parked in a lot near the one he remembered.
He called Claire. She recognized his number. “Hi, Hunter. You gonna tell me what you’re up to?”
“We’ll talk when I get back, sis. Right now, I need Sue Ann’s address.”
“Checking up on her?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, hold on, and I’ll get it.”
Before she came back on line a black limousine pulled up near the building.
Claire came back on line. “Okay, Hunt. You want to copy this down?”
“I’ll call you back, sis.” He hung up.
The car had blackened windows, and it was impossible to see even a silhouette inside at dusk. The car was curiously out of place, unless someone was going on a special date. But given the proximity to Sue Ann’s place, at least the location he remembered, he watched with curiosity. He was backed into a space a couple rows from the building in the dark. The passenger door of the limo swung open, and the big man who sucker-punched him in Washington walked back to the rear passenger door, opening it just as she emerged from her ground-floor apartment. Sue Ann was dressed elegantly and slid immediately into the rear of the car. When Ramon Vasquez returned to the front seat, the limo began turning in a wide arc that passed behind the first row of parked cars, passing in front of Hunter’s row. He ducked as the limo sped past. What’s going on!
The limo took the nearby ramp onto 101 North with Hunter, trailing a few car lengths behind. The freeway is six lanes wide at this point, and he was able to drive several lanes over, alternating his perspective and distance, but never letting the limo far from sight. If she was being kidnapped again, there wasn’t any struggle. They were driving toward San Francisco.
The limo drove forty miles to the airport. Hunter eased over to the right lane and followed through the signal at the bottom of the ramp leading directly to the airport frontage road. Without freeway traffic to conceal him, Hunter kept a long distance behind the limo and didn’t turn on his headlights even though the sky was slate grey. When the limo stopped, Hunter pulled to the side of the road obscured by a huge eucalyptus tree and watched Ramon open a key lock to a gate onto the airport. This part of the field was miles away from the commercial terminals with dozens of hangars with company logos built side by side. Ramon locked the gate behind them.
Hunter ran to the back of the car and reached into his bag for binoculars. He then climbed onto the roof of the car for a clearer view. Even though it was dark, the airfield was lighted around the hangars and he watched the limousine drive through one of the huge open doors. Inside the well-lit hangar, Ramon opened her door again and she exited like an heiress. The rear door on the other side opened and there he was. Judging from his stature, Hunter was sure that Luciano Peña was escorting Sue Ann up the steps into a smart-looking business jet. At the top of the stairs, she turned and kissed him, and he caressed her butt before disappearing inside. Ramon did not follow, as the pilot raised the stairway and closed the door. Moments later, the plane taxied out and moved rapidly down the taxiway toward the active runways, disappearing from his line of sight. Hunter couldn’t believe what he had witnessed.
Family Traitor
Sue Ann Kohl met Luciano Peña at a dedication ceremony at the Stedman Academy in San Francisco. Luca Peña and his wife were being honored for their contribution of a new library for the school. The mayor came to give a speech and several people she’d seen on the news were present. Most of the faculty attended and there were several news stations taping the event and interviewing people. In the social setting that followed, Luca and the Mayor circulated together, obviously close friends. Sue Ann was enthralled when they stopped to talk with her and Luca kissed her hand. She was young and single and paid no attention to the fact that Mrs. Peña had departed. Mr. Peña said, “Ms. Kohl, someone as lovely as you would make an excellent ambassador for education at the Mayor’s fundraiser next week. May I invite you?”
She was flattered, not knowing what to say. “Well, gee, Mr. Peña, I don’t know what say. I don’t have any money to contribute.”
“Please, call me Luca. You don’t need to bring anything more than your charm. I will be hosting the event, and the donations have already been made. You might enjoy meeting some of the people that will be there.”
“Well, then, in that case, Luca, sure. Where will it be held and when?”
“It is next Friday night. I will be pleased to send my car and driver to pick you up.”
She was overwhelmed. “Luca, I am deeply honored and would love to represent the school.”
“Delightful, my dear. Actually, you will attend as my personal guest. I’m sure the academy has rules against endorsements, so you will just be representing you.”
She smiled broadly. “
In that case, I can really be myself.”
“Exactly.”
She gave him her address and phone number, and he gave her his private mobile number if she needed to contact him for some reason.
Luca’s “car” turned out to be a twenty foot long Lincoln limousine. She had never travelled in luxury before and was soon speeding down the highway in a long black limousine, alone in the back seat. She felt underdressed despite wearing her best evening gown. The fundraiser was at the Mayor’s private residence in Pacific Heights, near Luca’s home. When the limo arrived, there were several cars in a queue on the street, and Sue Ann could count at least a dozen sets of taillights ahead. The street was closed with police admitting one car at a time to deposit guests. Luca’s driver steered into the left lane, bypassing all the other cars and was signaled into the circular drive in front of the house where a few other luxury cars were parked. The cars on the street were directed into a vacant lot beside the Mayor’s property.
Before becoming Mayor, Lew Cornish founded a software company in college and made a fortune selling it before his twenty-fifth birthday. He was one of San Francisco’s most well-publicized bachelors and philanthropists. He ran for Mayor at the age of thirty-five because he wanted to make fundamental changes in city
