Infiltration

by Ana Ban

  The doctor didn’t offer condolences or excuses, for which I was grateful. I’d heard them all, and they did nothing to ease the pain, or the guilt.

  “I used to pretend I was another person. Stronger, braver, someone who could stand up to him. A warrior who could save my mom. There were so many times I’d fantasize about what our life would be like without him, if only I were bigger, older, smarter. Other girls dreamed of being princesses,” I scoffed, though the bitterness was directed inwards. “I dreamed of being his nightmare.”

  Squeezing my hands together, hating the doctor for forcing me to relive this, I barged on, knowing she wouldn’t let it go until I spilled it all.

  “One night I came home late from school, I was 13. There was an assignment I’d missed, and the teacher asked me to stay and talk about it. My father was so angry, coked up, beer cans scattered everywhere. When I walked in, my mom was huddled on the floor, against the wall in the living room. She looked so frail, so battered, so broken. When she looked up at me, it was like all the life in her eyes had been sucked away. I’m not even sure she recognized me through the blood trailing down her face.”

  Staring down at my lap, I was silent so long Dr. Engel finally spoke. “What happened then, Mia?”

  Still staring at my hands, I spoke quietly. “Something came over me. He came at me, and instead of cowering, I fought back. My punches did nothing against his large frame, and he became enraged. He went back to my mom and slammed her head into the wall, over and over, screaming at me while he did. I ran to the kitchen, truly believing he’d killed her. I grabbed a knife, the biggest one I could find. Screaming like a banshee, I rushed back to the living room and stabbed him in the back. When he spun around, I just kept stabbing at him. That whole time, I felt like I was watching myself from far away, almost like it was a movie playing out before me. A horror movie.”

  A single tear leaked down my cheek, and I didn’t bother to swipe at it.

  “Our mind is a powerful thing,” Dr. Engel spoke quietly. “Above all, it seeks to protect us.”

  “Twenty-three times,” I told her. “Twenty-three stab wounds. I don’t remember doing that. At some point, I curled up next to my mom, cradling her head in my arms. There was so much blood. Then, the cops came. I’m not sure who called them, and the rest of that night is a blur. Somehow, my mom survived, but she was never the same. I spent some time in the juvenile system, but pleaded self-defense and was released. I took care of my mom for the next few years. She was practically catatonic. In some twisted, sycophantic way, my dad was her reason for living. Not even I was enough.”

  Leaning forward, rubbing at my temples with the palms of my hands, I finished the story. “She stopped responding, and eventually, she stopped eating. I couldn’t afford medical care. Our house was paid off, thankfully, but I still had to pay for utilities, food. I had to quit school and work. After she died, I earned my GED and got accepted into a community college. The police academy came next.”

  “Thank you for sharing that, Mia. I know it wasn’t easy.”

  I nodded, too mentally exhausted to work up indignation for the fact that she’d forced it out of me.

  “That is something no child should ever have to deal with. But, it seems you did become that strong, brave warrior you dreamed of.”

  If that was the consolation prize, I needed to find a new game show.

  Chapter 8

  Instead of going back to the precinct, I went straight home from the therapy session. Besides feeling emotionally drained, I wanted to prepare for my night’s excursion.

  The first thing I did when I walked in was run a hot shower. When I stepped through the steam, I allowed the water to wash away the feeling of melancholy that had overtaken me. Dredging up the past never seemed to be as helpful as shrinks deemed it to be.

  Locking away the horrors of my childhood once again, I turned my focus to my task tonight. This would strictly be a reconnaissance mission, since any evidence I obtained tonight would not be admissible in court. But, if I could find out what the DeLuca’s were up to, it would give us a start.

  Wrapping myself in a towel, I caught my reflection in the mirror. For the last few months, my eyes had a dull shine to them, one that was evident even to me. I knew it had everything to do with being demoted and starting the medication. The soft black spots beneath my eyes that were ever present had shrunk just slightly, thanks to more consistent sleep, but they were still very much visible.

  With a sigh, I dried my dark hair and wrapped it up in a bun to keep it out of my way. I dressed for the evening activities in black leggings and a long-sleeved black shirt. The clothes were comfortable and gave me a better range of motion.

  Without any pockets, I wrapped a utility belt around my hips and placed the few items I would need inside it. My cell phone, placed on mute, a pocket knife, and a pen camera. The camera had come in handy over the years- not only was it compact and excellent at low-light photos, it also made no noise when releasing the shutter. Perfect for stake outs- and, on nights like this, when my actions bordered on illegal.

  My lock-picking set came next, along with a small but powerful flashlight. Feeling as prepared as I ever would, I drove towards the marina.

  Parking several blocks away, I slipped on a jacket that would cover my utility belt in case I walked past any civilians, and made my way by foot to the spot I would use to break into the shipping yard. Taking off the jacket, I left it on the ground, planning to pick it back up on my way out.

  Without giving it too much thought, I scaled the fence and dropped down, keeping a careful eye on the low buildings for any sign of movement.

  After counting to ten in my head, I moved towards the building that was my target. There was a camera at the door, but that wasn’t my goal right now. I went directly to where the wooden crates were stacked, pausing with my back pressed to the wall to assess my surroundings once again. Still no activity.

  One light was on inside the building, but it seemed quiet otherwise. Gingerly climbing atop the crates, I slowly lifted my head until I could see through the window.

  The room was empty of people, but stacked full of wooden crates. Unlike the ones I stood on, these were still full of cargo.

  None were open for me to get a glimpse inside, so I knew what would come next. Climbing down, I snuck a peak around the corner of the building, eyeing the camera. It was pointed directly at the door, so there was no way around it. The only way to get through one of the windows would be to break the glass, but I wasn’t willing to make that kind of noise, or mess.

  Pulling out the small flashlight, along with my lock picking set, I took a deep breath before shining the light directly at the camera. It wasn’t perfect, but it would obscure the image long enough for me to get inside. I could only hope there was no one watching the cameras constantly.

  The only obstacle now, was using the lock picking set. I needed two hands for that, and one to keep the light steady. Before I got frustrated, I tried the handle.

  It was unlocked. That seemed lucky.

  Making sure I was out of sight of the camera before flicking off the light, I stepped completely inside the room and closed the door behind me. Pausing again, I waited with bated breath for any sound, but there was none.

  The first crate I crouched beside read ‘Fine Columbian Beans.’ When I tried to lift the lid, it was wedged in nice and tight. I glanced around for some kind of crowbar to use for leverage, and spotted several lined up against the wall.

  Grabbing the first one, I returned to the crate and pried the lid off. There were, in fact, burlap bags of coffee beans placed neatly inside. Curious, I hefted one of the bags out, and found a tarp lining. Setting the beans on the ground, I pulled out my pocket knife and carefully slit the tarp along the edge where it was attached to the crate. When I pulled back the tarp, I let out a gasp of astonishment.

  Snapping pictures as quickly as I could, I then carefully lay the tarp back before replacing the beans. Someone wou
ld notice the tarp had been taken out, but I had to hope they blamed the people that originally packed them.

  Satisfied with my night’s work, I made my way out of the shipping yard the same way I’d come in, running into no trouble. After vaulting the fence, I picked up my jacket and hurried back to my car.

  At home, I typed up a detailed report, transferring the pictures from the tiny camera to my computer, and sent it all to the chief. I’d hear about it tomorrow, I was sure, but I couldn’t regret what I’d found out.

  When I walked into work the next day, the chief gestured me towards his office, as I had expected him to do. To my surprise, Alec and Adam were both inside.

  “Detective Gonzalez, it seems you’ve come across some interesting information,” the chief began. “Though it was acquired through means other than computer research, I’d like you to share your findings with Woods and Malone.”

  I had the grace to look contrite, but quickly straightened my shoulders and delivered my report.

  “Brentwood Industries is a shell company for the DeLuca family. On the surface, it looks like an ordinary shipping company, bringing in coffee beans from Columbia. However, I believe coffee is not the only thing they are importing.”

  The chief placed photos on the desk between us. Though I’d taken them, it still shocked me to see the sheer amount of weaponry I’d uncovered in those crates. This one was full of semi-automatic guns.

  “This is now the highest priority. Detective Gonzalez, you’ll be teaming up with Detective Woods and Detective Malone on this.”

  “Sir?” I asked, my heart beat suddenly quicker.

  “You’ve been cleared for field duty. Congratulations.”

  Attempting to keep the happy dance that was threatening to reveal itself under wraps, I bowed my head and mumbled a heartfelt ‘thank you’ instead.

  Alec and Adam left the office first, but the chief held me back.

  “You’ll still see Dr. Engel once a week for the foreseeable future,” he told me quietly. “And follow whatever directions she gives you.”

  I knew he was talking about the sleeping medication, and with the half doses I’d been taking for the last month, I was still sleeping better but I felt more like myself during the day. That was something I could agree to.

  “Yes, sir,” I told him.

  “And, Mia?”

  “Sir?”

  “It’s good to have you back.”

  Walking out of his office, feeling a buoyancy in my step that had been missing, I sought out my new, and one old, partners. Alex was leaning against his desk, arms crossed, a wide smile on his face.

  “Detective Gonzalez, I’m so excited to be able to work with you,” Adam said first, and their smiles were contagious.

  Sliding into a chair next to his desk, I leaned back, allowing my own smile to blossom.

  “Me too,” I told him. Directing my attention to Alec, I asked, “So, what’s the plan?”

  Chapter 9

  “Here’s what the chief didn’t tell you,” Alec began. “The reason we’re on this case, is because it ties to Selena and Donovan.”

  Adam pitched in, “We believe one of the shipping businesses is also a front for Selena. With inspections cracking down on international cargo, there is still way too much slipping through. Someone’s turning a blind eye.”

  “So, that would mean the DeLuca’s and Selena are in direct competition?” I asked.

  Alec nodded before continuing. “It would seem so, but they could also be working together.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  Alec pulled a report out of a file, sliding it over to me. “This is why.”

  Reading over it quickly, I raised a brow. “Donovan’s been spotted working with Tony DeLuca?”

  “Yes. We have an undercover who confirmed it.”

  Rubbing my chin, I ran through the report again. “In all the time we’ve chased Selena, we’ve never come across guns. It just doesn’t seem like their M.O.”

  “They’re criminals, Mia,” Alec answered me. “This isn’t above them.”

  Though it didn’t feel right, I kept my mouth closed and nodded. Instead of arguing over opinion, we would investigate and get the facts.

  “What’s our way in?” I asked instead.

  “Marco,” Adam answered. “He’s known to hang out at The Lounge.”

  “All right,” I sat back. “Let’s hit that tonight.”

  I drove separately from Alec and Adam, knowing it was better to be able to cover more than one entrance. It was decided for Adam to sit inside to keep an eye on our mark, but not make contact. I was parked on the street two buildings down, but still in sight of the front door. Alec was covering the rear entrance.

  The Lounge was an upscale bar, and I watched as Adam, dressed to the nines, slipped the bouncer a tip before being let in. We all had ear buds in so we could communicate, and as he stepped inside the low throbbing of bass became unbearably loud.

  “Try to find a quiet area,” I spoke loud enough for Adam to hear me.

  He didn’t answer, which was for the best, since we didn’t want anyone thinking he was loony. After a couple of minutes, the noise lessened, and I assumed he found a spot in a far corner from the band.

  It was 8:00, and it didn’t take long for me to spot Marco making his way to the entrance with his entourage. They were let in immediately.

  “Marco’s on his way in. He’s with three friends and two guards.”

  Muscle was always easy to pick out. It was in their stance, their clothes and the way they saw everything without moving their heads.

  From there, I settled in to wait, knowing it could be a long night. Adam gave us periodic updates, but otherwise, it was silent between the three of us.

  Around 10:00, Alec spoke urgently. “Activity in the alley. It looks like Al DeLuca is joining the party.”

  “Who’s letting him in? Does he have a key? Is anyone with him?” I asked in quick succession.

  “He’s alone, he knocked and the door opened, I couldn’t see by who.”

  “Adam, give us an update when you can.”

  After a few moments, Adam spoke quietly. “Al pulled Marco aside. It looks serious.”

  We all waited for more information. Minutes passed, which I spent scanning the front of the building.

  “They’re leaving,” Adam finally said. “Just Al and Marco.”

  “Back or front?” Alec asked.

  “Back.”

  “Adam, get out now, I’ll pick you up in front. Alec, follow them and we’ll follow you.”

  Pulling into traffic, I paused the car long enough for Adam to emerge and slide seamlessly into the passenger seat. Hesitating at the next block, I waited for Alec’s instructions.

  “They’re on foot,” Alec told me. “Can’t move yet, they’ll see me.”

  A car was approaching behind me, so I made the turn and eased into a parking spot too small for my car.

  “I see them,” I told Alec. “Coming out of the alley now.”

  Adam and I watched as they approached a black SUV. Once they pulled away from the street, I put my car back in gear.

  “Black SUV. Heading south on Broadway. I’m two cars behind. Turning left onto Fleet.”

  Continuing to follow, I gave Alec directions as I received them. When they headed into the southeastern precinct and began to slow, I told Alec to make the call.

  We were a few blocks from their shipping yard, at an office building I wasn’t familiar with. It was a five-story glass front building, with a small sign in front of the parking lot which read Brentwood Industries. I drove past, parking at a side street until Alec could catch up with us. The black SUV parked in front of the building, and though the building was dark, there was a smattering of cars still in the lot.

  “What’s our way in?” Adam asked.

  I shifted in my seat to look over the building just as Alec approached my window.

  “Any thoughts?” He asked once I’d rolled the
window down.

  “Adam, stay out front. Alec and I will approach the building. When back-up gets here, hold until we give the go ahead.”

  Adam and I exited the car, and we began to walk towards the building as a group. When we reached the parking lot, Adam hung back, and I looped an arm through Alec’s as we walked towards the front doors.

  “Do you have any sort of plan here?” He whispered to me.

  “Not exactly,” I hedged, sending him a sly smile.

  Approaching the front doors, we could see into the lobby that it was deserted. I scanned for cameras, not being able to pick any out. There was a chance there weren’t any, but it seemed unlikely.

  Pulling on the handle of the door, I found it unlocked and walked inside. There was a reception desk along one wall, with a few leather chairs gathered together opposite that. There was a solo elevator beyond that, so Alec and I made our way over to it.

  There was a helpful digital display to the side of the elevator, so I pushed the button and watched the floors light up.

  “Third floor,” I told Alec, knowing Adam would hear it as well, turning for the stairwell next to the elevator.

  We hurried up the stairs after checking they were empty, and we paused outside the third level. Alec and I were still in sync even after five months of not being partners, and we assumed our positions on one side of the door, guns out. He met my eyes and nodded once before opening the door a crack. He waited for ten seconds, listening for any noise beyond the door. When there wasn’t any, he stuck his head out to take a look around.

  After he emerged fully through the door, I followed, keeping our bodies back to back as we came to the only hallway in the building. Offices were each direction, and the only light in the building was coming from the left. With an unspoken command, Alec and I moved down the hall slowly.

  “They’re here,” Adam’s voice came over the earbud.

  Neither Alec nor I were able to acknowledge that, and continued our slow approach. Once we were within a few feet of the open office, we could hear voices.