GOTU - A Robin Marlette Novel

by Mike McNeff

  Molina got up and walked down the hall to the restroom. He did not see anyone else there as he looked into the mirror. The image looking back at him had a pale face with puffy, red eyes. Molina could see a glint of fear in those eyes. A cold shiver shook his body. He turned the water on and splashed his face over and over, as if he were hoping to wash the fear away.

  “You going swimmin', Jose?”

  Molina jerked up at sound of the voice. He saw Rick Santos coming out of a stall. Molina turned off the water.

  “Uh, well, I had a long night and short morning.”

  “I hear that, amigo,” chuckled Rick.

  “From what I hear, you guys are doing the same.”

  “It's SOP when you work for Marlette.”

  “You guys going to get medals for blowing that creep away?”

  Rick zipped up and walked to the sinks. He turned on the water, soaped his hands, and then looked at Molina.

  “You've never been in a gun fight, have you, Jose?”

  “You know I haven't, Ricardo,” answered Molina, looking down.

  “It is not necessarily something you want a medal for, especially when someone dies.”

  “It wouldn't bother me.”

  Rick looked at the younger man for a moment and then said, “Maybe it wouldn't, Jose. Maybe it wouldn't.” Rick then turned and walked out the door.

  Molina went out after Rick and walked back to his office. He tensed with anger. He took a couple of deep breaths and decided to pay Marlette a visit and get some information.

  Robin was listening to Chris Fleming talk on the phone about the status of the Cuban when he noticed Molina walk into the Guardians' squad room. Every time he saw the young officer, he got an uneasy feeling in his gut. He couldn't pin down why, but he just didn't trust the kid.

  Chris had just finished up telling Robin he had Garcia held under the National Security Act and that the FBI had transported the prisoner to Quantico Marine Base in Virginia. Chris gave his assurance he was the FBI case agent for Garcia and nothing would be done without Robin being consulted. Robin hung up as Molina made his way to Robin's office.

  “Hi Sarge,” Molina greeted Robin.

  “Hi Jose, what brings you to our humble digs?”

  “Oh, just my regular begging session to get into your squad.”

  Robin forced a smile. “The first thing you have to do is get one of these old farts to transfer or retire.”

  “Sheeeit, these guys know a gravy job when they see one.”

  “Well, in my opinion, they are either crazy or too stupid to figure out what I really got them into.”

  “Seriously, Sarge, I really want to work for you. You guys are where the action is. That's where I gotta be.”

  Robin noticed Molina did not look well and acted nervous as hell. Robin did not consider himself to be an intimidating person. He wondered what the hell made this guy so weird, other than being a total dumbass. He decided to let the kid down easy.

  “Look, Jose, I'm just a sergeant in this vast organization. If I could have enough slots in my squad, I'd love to have a hard workin' cop like you. But the brass, as usual, has different plans. I'm not getting any more positions, just more work, but I'll keep you in mind.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it. By the way, I got a brother who is interested in going to the U of A. He is trying to figure out if he should live on campus or rent an apartment. I know your daughter goes there and I wondered if you had any suggestions.”

  “I don't know what I can tell you. My daughter lives on campus right now, but she wants to move off campus. I'm not for the move and since I pay part of her rent, she is kind of stuck. It really depends on your brother's preferences and budget.”

  “Yeah, I can see that. Well, does she live in a co-ed dorm or the good old-fashioned kind?”

  “She lives in a women's dorm, which is precisely why she wants to move.”

  “Uh, oh, I see a jealous dad.”

  “You're goddamned right. Wait 'til your daughters grow up.”

  “I can wait on that score. Speaking of scores, you scored big last night.”

  “We did, all right. Look, Jose, I've these damn evaluations to get done.”

  “Okay, Sarge. We'll see you later.”

  Molina left and Rick appeared at Robin's door. “What did that dickhead want?”

  “Your job.”

  “Fuck him! What a little weasel. You know, every chance he gets he tries to pump me for information about our cases. Just a little while ago he told me it wouldn't bother him to kill somebody. He bugs the shit out of me.”

  “Maybe he looks up to you.”

  “Why, because we're both Mexican?”

  “It's just a thought, Rick. You are older and more experienced. He may be trying to impress you.”

  “Rob, you're talking like a lawyer again.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You're full of shit.”

  Burke walked in and told Robin the squad was ready to meet for a status check on assignments. Rob and Rick joined the rest of the men in the squad room. This meeting required each man to report his progress in the last twenty-four hours.

  Emmett Franks started the briefing. “I got Newman pretty much all set. Security is being handled by Lucheck, Victor Thirty-Two squad, and myself. Newman has been advised of the rules for informants and shown how to properly wear and operate a body wire. I've completed the report on Newman's debriefing.”

  “Great work, Emmett. What about you, Burke?”

  “The pens are all working fine. Walton is calling up a storm, but no calls to Mexico yet. Norm Walls promised to get subscriber information on the numbers Walton dialed as fast as he could. I talked with Jim Adams at the U.S. Attorney's Office and got two fifteen-minute shots at the grand jury every day for the next two weeks. We will have subpoenas for other phone companies, banks, credit companies, and other places flying outta there.” The squad laughed.

  “Just don't drive Jim crazy.”

  “Hell, he's a lawyer—he's already crazy!”

  Robin shook his head. “Doug, how are you and Mark doing?”

  “Mark and I have the surveillance schedules set up. Those of us not on “Newman duty,” the FBI, IRS, and U.S. Customs will be doing surveillance on Walton and others as the cast of characters grows. Oscar and Jack are itching to fly.”

  “Thanks, Doug. Mike, how's the wire room coming?”

  “I am lining up the off-site wiretap room location and getting the wiretap equipment together and making sure it is in good working order. I got a location picked out; I'm just doing a little negotiation with the owner over the rent.”

  Robin laughed. “Don't get hung up on the rent. It's not your money.”

  “I know, but this guy thinks he's got a big fish and I just have to cut down his expectations.”

  “Just remember, time is the most important thing right now.”

  “Don't worry, I'll have a deal by tomorrow.”

  “Good enough. Rick, I take it you have the rest covered?”

  “I'm available to respond to and coordinate any SOU calls or marijuana garden reports. I'll also remain contact man for our two informants in Mexico, since those guys can only make contact when they are clear of bandits.”

  “That's good. Those two informants' butts are hanging way out. I don't want to let them down in any way.”

  “I've got 'em covered.”

  “You are a good man, Rick.”

  “Okay, guys, as usual this case is going to crunch us for time. Still, we have to take care of our smaller cases and keep all our informants happy. That means we will have to cover for each other at times. Be flexible and don't be afraid to speak up if you are getting spread too thin.”

  Robin coordinated all aspects of the case and reviewed applications for the wiretap and the overall case report. Of course, since the Guardians were responsible for narcotics intelligence, Robin maintained those reports also.

  Burke raised his hand. “Tha
t goes for you too, Sarge, right?”

  “If I need help, you'll be the first to know.”

  Robin smiled broadly and was starting back to his office when Lieutenant Hammel came into the squad room.

  “Rob, the lab just confirmed the ballistics on the bullets that killed Ramon Rodriquez came from your gun. Nice shooting.” The men murmured their approval.

  “We also just got an anonymous call on a possible marijuana garden.” Robin's good feelings turned to all too familiar frustration.

  “Goddamn it,” he muttered. “Oh well, Rick, check it out. If you need a recon, Mike will be your second man. Doug, I'll cover for Mike on surveillance.”

  “I can handle a recon by myself,” Rick responded.

  “Don't fuck with me, Rick. No solo recons. That's the rule.”

  “I'm just trying to help, Rob.”

  “You being hurt or dead is no help to me.”

  “Game time, boys,” Burke interceded. “Let's do what the Sarge says.”

  Hammel handed Santos a piece of paper with the information on it. The lieutenant looked over the squad. “I don't know what to do about you guys. I think you're all crazy. You do the work of three squads; leave your families for weeks at a time; half of you are on the verge of getting divorced; you all look like shit; and the thing is, you don't have to be doing this. It's just a job.”

  Robin stared at the floor, resisting the urge to strangle his lieutenant, when Burke spoke up.

  “That's the fucking problem, Lieutenant. You think it's just a job. We know it's a war. And because of your kind of attitude, we're losing this war. I'm sick and fucking tired of losing wars. If I have to follow Sergeant Marlette to fucking hell to win this one, then I will, by God. I'll work a hundred hours a week if he tells me to. So will every man here.”

  Robin looked at his squad. They were all looking at Lieutenant Hammel defiantly. Hammel quietly turned and walked out of the squad room. The men all turned and looked at Robin.

  He fought back his emotion. He could not find the words to describe the love he had for these men. They faced death simply because he said so. They put their family lives at stake because they came to believe in his war. And now they said they would follow him into hell, if that's what it took. He would give his life before allowing one of his men to be hurt or killed.

  “Thanks guys,” Robin said. He took a deep breath and looked at his men. “We're kind of in this alone. Everybody thinks we're crazy for working like we do, but they all want part of our action, because we are doing it right and kicking ass. As this new case progresses, it's going to get even more lonely. The closer we get to politicians, the more nervous the brass is going to get. Even if we're successful, we won't be on their dinner list. I hope nobody here planned on being director.”

  “Fuck it, Sarge,” Emmett said in a low voice. “We're in this for us. We were all burned out before you came. We had no leadership. None of us were doing much of anything. Now we're being cops, damn good cops. I'm proud as hell to be a member of this squad. I don't really give a fuck what anybody else thinks.”

  “That goes for all of us, Rob,” said Mike.

  “Well then,” Robin said as he stood up. “Let's quit fucking off and get to work!”

  “Now there's a real sentimental son of a bitch for you,” said Doug, laughing.

  Robin looked at his men. “I guess since we are all such macho men, I shouldn't say this—but I love you guys like brothers.”

  Burke put his arms around Robin's shoulders. “We know Rob but you're still a son of a bitch.”

  The men broke up the meeting laughing and joking with each other. Robin went back to his office and began reviewing his plan for the case. The time came to have Newman call Walton and set up a meeting. This would give the Guardians some time for pen register info and surveillance when Walton would be making contact with people to tell them the money was safe. Hopefully, it would be enough info for a wiretap order.

  Robin wondered how careful Walton would be with Newman. Newman told Emmett that Walton liked him—they did some hunting and fishing together. Newman thought Walton would do anything to make his wife happy, and since he married Newman's sister, everything would be okay. Robin still worried because Walton was no dummy.

  For sure, Walton would be somewhat loose until he got control of the money. Criminals' greed is a police officer's friend. Robin believed Walton couldn't control his greed for five million dollars…especially, when the money would buy the other thing Walton wanted - power. The combination of these two things was the key to making Newman's contact successful.

  NINE

  Cathy Marlette raised her eyes from her psychology book and looked at her boyfriend, Andy Jackson. He focused on an engineering book, immersed in mathematical calculations on a complicated problem Cathy didn't even want to understand. They occupied a study room in the U of A library. Cathy reflected on how she enjoyed the quiet and the closeness she felt with Andy as they worked toward their common goal: graduation and marriage.

  She returned her attention to her psychology text book, but couldn't maintain concentration. Her mind wandered back to when she and Andy first met. Cathy remembered her dad announced they were going on a picnic at Apache Lake with another family. Seventeen at the time, a family picnic did not rank as one of her top ideas of a great time. Her dad mentioned the other family included an eighteen-year-old boy, but Cathy figured the boy was probably a nerd or worse.

  The other family, the Jacksons, owned a ski boat. The boy turned out to be Andy, and Cathy found him handsome and easy to talk to. When he took off his shirt to ski, Cathy fell in love. Andy stood tall, muscular, and tan. He combed his sandy blond hair straight back, making his deep blue eyes more noticeable. His ready smile accentuated strong facial features. He was an outstanding water skier, which completed Cathy's infatuation.

  They spent the rest of the afternoon with Andy patiently teaching Cathy how to water ski. She learned he had just finished his first year at the U of A school of engineering, and he really liked the campus. On that day she decided she wanted to go the U of A.

  Cathy and Andy started going together the following weekend. That was two years ago now. In that time, Cathy had come to love Andy deeply and passionately. He treated her like a princess, and pledged his life to her. He showed his love for her in so many ways, she sometimes felt she was living inside a romance novel.

  Andy put down his pencil, leaned back in his chair, and looked at his girlfriend.

  “Hi, beautiful,” he said softly.

  “Oh, you're back from the world of numbers,” Cathy teased.

  “Is that a hint that study time is over?”

  “It's a hint that I'm hungry and want attention.”

  “Well, I'm the guy who can take care of both problems.”

  “I know,” Cathy replied, her eyes softening.

  Andy leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. “Cathy, you have the sexiest eyes in the world.”

  “Let's get out of here, Andy. I'm hungry and horny and we can't take care of either one in this place and honey, if you continue to grin like that, the world will know our secrets.”

  The couple gathered their books and headed out of the library. They walked to the parking lot to Andy's car, a 1964 red Jaguar XKE he had restored. His pride in his car radiated as he treated it with great care. Only Cathy had permission to drive the Jaguar and not very often. They got into the car and Andy started it up. He smiled with satisfaction at the sound of the perfectly tuned engine.

  The couple ate dinner at La Indianita restaurant on 4th Avenue. Cathy liked it because they served good vegetarian food. Andy liked it because they served giant portions. As they ate, they engaged in a lively conversation with Mama Gonzales, the owner of the restaurant. She liked Cathy and Andy, and since both spoke fluent Spanish, she felt more comfortable talking with them in her native language.

  The couple finished their dinner and said goodbye to Mama. They then headed to Andy's apartment. And
y parked and they both worked to get the car cover on the car. They then walked up the stairs and into the apartment.

  Hector Rubio sucked the last smoke he could out of his cigarette as he watched the policemen's children enter the apartment. Juan's information turned out to be correct—the children of policemen often ate at the Indianita. Hector recognized the Jaguar there and watched it. He easily followed them to the apartment. Juan would be pleased with his work.

  TEN

  Rick Santos bent on one knee and used binoculars to scout the area ahead. A ghillie suit covered the Rhodesian SAS camouflage fatigues he wore. Camouflage paint covered his face. Mike Collins, similarly dressed, knelt three meters away facing the other direction. To the casual observer, they appeared to be two bushes mingled in the mountain landscape.

  They were in the Tonto National Forest southeast of Payson and northeast of Rye, in the middle of thick scrub oak sprinkled with ponderosa pine. The clean air bore the pleasant scent of sage and pine. A raven called nearby, and critters scurried in the brush from time to time. Both men's senses were heightened as they scanned the area. Rick had flown over the area the day before in a DPS plane and spotted occasional emerald green patches in the area, an indication of marijuana plants. Now he and Mike were doing a recon to verify Rick's observation.

  Rick let the binoculars hang and took out his compass. He laid it on the face of a folded topo map and shot some azimuths. He very slowly leaned back and squeezed Mike's arm. Mike scanned a 180° arc in his field of vision and moved slowly off to Rick's left. He waited until Rick moved a little farther ahead and moved out.

  Both men moved ahead ever so slowly, alternately looking ahead, looking up into the trees, and looking down at the ground. They were looking for anything that seemed out of place. A straight line or the outline of part of a human body, a change in the animal sounds, birds taking to flight. human smell—they constantly worked at keeping their minds and senses open to all input.

  Rick looked up and started to move his eyes down. When they were looking level and parallel to the ground, his peripheral vision caught a faint line of light crossing the deer path to his right…a straight line across. There are no straight lines in nature. He went to one knee and pushed the transmit button on his radio to break squelch, Mike's signal to stop and go to one knee, which he did.