by Doug Ball
“I just might be able to. Stop by the truck stop some night and I’ll buy ya a piece of pie.”
“You got it.”
#
Leon finally connected with his most reluctant snitch in a bar near MetroCenter Mall. Tweet saw him coming and ran. Leon was in shape and Tweet was not. It was a short run.
“Where you been, Tweet, my man?”
“Ducking you. Heard you were gonna bust me. Ain’t goin’ back, man, it just ain’t gonna happen.”
Leon shook his head, “Tweet, I told you a thousand times I will never send you back as long as you cooperate with me. What did you do this time that makes you think I oughta send you inside for the rest of your life?”
“Buy me a beer?”
“Yeah, come on.”
They walked back to the bar, sat in a dark corner booth with Leon’s back to the wall, which didn’t make Tweet any happier, and ordered the beer. Leon had coffee. They sat and stared at each other while the drinks were coming. Once the drinks were on the table, Leon said, “Okay. You got your beer. What’s with your world these days? I hear you are gonna make some big money in the next few days.”
“Yeah. You know that CDL I got after the last time I was in? Well, this guy wants me to drive for him. Good ole’ Ski put him on to me. Man says he got the truck and all the rest lined up. All I gotta do is drive this one load and I get 2,000 bucks. I like money. I took the job.”
“What’s the load?”
“What do I care? A load is a load, it’s the cash that counts, you know that. Man, I been lookin’ for work for over a year. Nothing. Nobody wants to give an ex-con a job anymore. Even the bad guys don’t wanna use us. The good companies won’t even talk to me. Okay, so I got three falls for various stupids, but how do I make a living if no one will give me a chance. I been clean. I drink a bit now and then. I can drive a truck, any truck, anywhere. So now you want me to ask questions and turn down a $2,000 ride. No way, just plain no way.”
“What if I told you this load was illegal in a way that you might, if you live through it, end up in prison for the rest of your life? Oh, yeah, Roger Wolinski is dead. I think your new boss pulled the trigger.”
“Three hots and a cot. I’ll have fun with the money ‘till you catch me. I been thinking about moving to Alaska and driving the ice road like on TV. Big money on that job.”
“I would suggest you make the move and not take this job. The ice road would be safer than working for this nut. Tell me about the man, when and where. You know what I need. There’s a reward in this bigger than the two grand chump change you might get if he lets you live.”
“Can’t do it this time. I need the money and he promised me a full time job. He ain’t no crook, just a man in need and what he needs is me.”
Leon walked out and moved his car around the corner before setting up surveillance on Tweet. He called Tan for support.
#
Rachel walked into the conference room again with a bounce in her step and an ‘I gotcha’ look on her face only to find that Tan was not there. She looked around the office rooms they used and found no one, let alone Tan. Her cell phone buzzed, it was the Governor’s office.
“Yes, Josie.”
“You know where Tan is, Rachel? The Governor wants him. His early release is ready. The man is in 4th Avenue jail.”
“I don’t have a clue. I’ll get on it.”
“Great. How you liking that job?”
“It’s great. I like it better, although your office has more class.”
“Naughty, naughty, thou shalt not covet, you know.”
“I am content right where I am. I just said I liked your office better. These guys are growing on me.”
“So do warts. Is it Chuck?”
“Well, maybe a little bit of attraction there. Haven’t made up my mind and the bum is too shy to ask me out. I may have to take steps.”
“Lots of luck. He’s a nice guy with a good job and built like a brick house.”
“Oh, you, a married lady, noticed?”
“I am not dead, you know. I have a great husband and I’m not in the market, but I’m not dead.” She ended the call.
Rachel hit the speed dial for Tan.
After four rings, “Yes, Ma’am, what can I do for you?”
“I have the expert’s answers. It would be easier than we thought.”
“I’ll be right there, as soon as I finish my donut, I mean mid-day meal.”
“You better go see the Governor first. She’s looking for you.”
“Gotcha. On my way.”
“What, for the Governor you drop your donut, and for me it’s ‘you just wait?’ Something wrong here.”
“Naw. It’s right. You’re cuter, but you don’t sign the pay checks. Bye.”
#
Chuck walked through the office door with a boy-like grin on his face. He walked right up to her chair, turned it around, put a hand on each armrest, got his face close to hers and said, “Would like to go to lunch with the best man in the office?”
“Sure, where is he?”
“I’ll go look.” He stood and looked around the empty office and walked to check the conference room before returning.
He assumed the same position before continuing, “I can find no other man present, so it must be me. Are you ready for that?”
She looked at him and put a serious look on her face, “I don’t know if I am. It’s a difficult decision to go out with someone you work with. That never works, you know.”
“Oh.” He stood up.
The phone rang. “Office of the Governor, Special Investigator.”
“This is Coconino County Sheriff’s Office, is Les Brown there?”
“No, he isn’t. May I take a message.”
“Yeah, tell him Bubba called and the gun some citizen found in a trash can with no prints on it is the gun that killed his girlfriend from Navajo Land. No other leads, but we’re working on it.”
“I’ll tell him, Bubba.”
“Thanks.”
Rachel looked up, “They found the gun that killed the Navajo gal in Flagstaff.”
“How about that lunch date?”
“I suppose just this once couldn’t hurt, could it?”
“No way.” He brightened. “Where would you like to go?”
“How about the Golden Moon Palace?”
“You like Chinese?”
“Love it.”
“Me, too. Let’s go.”
#
Usafi took the car leaving the woman in the motel room, which he knew was not the most secure way to do things, and went to Roosevelt. He had called his driver in Phoenix and told him where to pick up the truck the next morning, where to go and wait. ‘Tweet, what a name for a man, had promised he would be there by noon,’ he thought.
Adam called the woman who answered on the third ring. “What’s on the television?” he asked.
“Nothing worth watching. I thought you were going to be busy.”
“I am waiting and then I will be very busy.”
“You told me to wait here for you, would it be okay with you if I went across the street and got something to eat?”
“Yes. I left you a few dollars on the dresser for just that. Last night was fun and very good for me. What about you?” He, on the few occasions that he could not find a cooperative female, liked to call the 900 numbers that talked dirty to a man if he wanted. He waited a little too long for her answer.
“It was good. I liked it. You can be a bit rough, you know. Never has anyone asked more of me. I like you and look forward to tonight, or maybe even this afternoon.”
“It will not be this afternoon. I will be busy readying the craft. This evening will have to do. I am anxious to be with you. I know more tricks. I will see you when I am finished here.” He hung up.
‘That woman lies,’ he thought.
She stood with the phone to her ear staring at the black TV screen. She shuddered with fear from top to bottom. Panic s
et in as she headed for the shower so her body would not stink of him. She had all the memories of him she could handle. There was only one alternative to Mr. Usafi.
Within twenty minutes she was out the door and down the highway with the $50 dollars he had left on the dresser. She felt like a well abused whore lugging her suit case to freedom. A trucker pulled into the Taco Bell parking lot even though the sign asked truckers to use the dirt lot in the rear. She liked truckers.
Ten minutes later she was in the cab with a large bag of food on her lap smiling at Red. He liked good looking women. Red turned to the east and ran the truck through the gears.
Up to speed, Red looked at her and said, “Like I said, there will be no strings unless we both agree.”
“I agree.” She liked what she saw and smiled.
He grinned like a pirate that had found the treasure.
In Lordsburg, New Mexico, she borrowed the trucker’s cell phone to call her sick sister while he was in the john and called the FBI. When they answered she told them about the drone, the murder in Reserve, and the location of the perp. She did not know the license number of Wing’s car or the make and model, she just knew it was blue, dark blue. “Don’t forget, he will not be back to the motel before he finishes this afternoon. He carries a gun under his left arm.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where are you now?”
“I don’t know.”
She lied to give her more distance.
She hung up and turned the phone off. It was off when she got it. She had watched enough TV to know that a cell phone could be tracked when it was turned on.
Red returned and they hit the highway.
“Where we stopping next?” she asked.
“Fort Stockton, Texas, I hope. How long did you talk to your sister?”
“You were coming out of the building when I hung up.”
“That wipes that phone.” He tossed it in the back. “Grab one of them in the package on the floor.”
She looked. “What is this, you collect these things?”
“Naw. I hauled a load of them three weeks ago. The guy at the loading dock handed me a case of them and said to use them however I wanted to, but destroy them when the 30 minutes on each one ran out. If I tried to load them with minutes it wouldn’t work. I thanked the man. That’s the second one I’ve tossed.”
She smiled. There was no way anyone could track her now.
#
Tan returned to the office with the deal in hand for Abdul Smith. Lenny and Bruce updated him on their findings. Leon was unaccounted for and Rachel was gone.
He looked in the conference room before deciding it was time to hit the 4th Avenue jail and talk to Abdul.
#
It was just after lunch time when Tan called upon the Maricopa County Jail on 4th Avenue and requested a private interrogation room and Mr. Abdul Smith. He checked his gun in at the door, showed the documents to the Detention Officer Sergeant, got frisked, and escorted into the room where he was asked not to smoke and wait. He promised he would not smoke and sat, reviewing the paper work until Abdul was ushered in by a Detention Officer who looked like a midget compared to the very large Abdul. The door was closed behind him.
“Have a seat, Mr. Smith.”
“Who are you?”
“I am a Special Investigator for the Governor. The man you talked to before works with me. I have the paperwork you requested from the Governor. You want to talk about this or go back to Florence?”
“Talk.”
“What do you know about Mr. Wolinski that is worth you getting out of prison? Your record is rather extensive. It took a bit of doing to talk the Governor and the Leniency Board into creating this opportunity. Impress me and you are free. Give me junk and I tear it all up. Your choice, my friend.”
“You don’t mince words, do you? What’s yo name, Mr. Special Investigator.”
Tan told him and put a smile on his face. “Lives are at stake. Property is in jeopardy. Your freedom is on the block. Let’s get you out of here. I can make that happen in a matter of minutes. Well, something under an hour.”
Abdul started talking.
“I called Roger’s girlfriend who is dumber than dirt. She put him on the line and walked away. He had to make his voice sound like a woman or the monitor would have cut the call. Anyhow, he told me that an Arab named Mustaf Azzulla was going to hit on a truck full of explosives which would be used to blow up a dam on Mr. Azzulla’s property. Due to the remoteness of the dam the easiest way to get the explosives to the dam was with a remote control aircraft, a drone the Arab called it. Roger made him explain cuz he didn’t know what a drone was. Rog figured it was a piece of cake job and this Azzulla was going to pay him big bucks, like a hundred thousand or more for the heist, just for driving a truck a couple dozen miles.
“I told Roger not to do it. I figured this Azzulla to be a terrorist. I mean, Arab and explosives seem to fit a pattern. I’ll apologize if wrong.”
“We don’t think you are wrong. Go on.”
“Anyway, Roger said he was gonna do it so’s he could buy Dorothy a nice ring and they could live like real human beings and not like an ex-con and a truckstop waitress. We argued enough that he forgot to use the phony voice and the monitor tripped the call. I lost my phone privilege for six months ‘cuz of that damn fool.”
“Where was the dam?”
“Don’t know. Somewhere in the boondocks of Arizona.”
“He specified a drone would deliver the charge?”
“Yes, Sir, he did. That sure must be a big dam to need a truck load of explosives. A man I know in here says he could take out an earthen dam with a pound or two of plastic in the right spot.”
“Think hard. Anything else he said. Anything you could plug in between the lines from what he said?”
Abdul thought until Tan thought he had not heard the question or was getting evasive, but he let the silence linger.
Abdul finally said, “Man, I got the real feeling this guy is a major terrorist or something similar. It just hit me as totally wrong and against all I do believe in. I may not have been the best citizen of this country or state, but I am totally against this terrorism stuff. Yeah, I got a Arab name, but that’s only cuz my mama thought it sounded cool and that was before 9-11. I can’t go along with any folks that would kill their own. Me and my black brethren have had many a fight over just that. Black kids killing blacks so they can steal black folks’ Social Security checks, and all, don’t hang with me at all. Brotherhood ought to be with yo own kind first, and then stretch to them that is peaceful toward ya. If they ain’t peaceful and don’t listen to ya, stomp’em.”
“Mr. Brown, the only dam I know that would fit the bill is one of them along the Salt River. I’m thinking the flooding could be terrible along the river bed, let alone the damage to the bridges and highways. What about them high rise building right on the river bed in Tempe and such. Man oh man, I don’t wanna think about it. Ya catch my drift?”
Tan let it all sink in. He was already on that track and this man was confirming all they knew or suspected. “Abdul, my man, you are outta this joint. Three years standard probation. You report to me and my office once a month in person. You don’t show, we come after you and you finish this sentence and five years more. If you want a job, I got one for you.” He stopped and handed Abdul his card. Two hours from now you report to this address and I’ll personally get you some decent clothes and put you to work. If you don’t show then, you come in every month on the first Wednesday between one and two in the afternoon and you’re cool.”
“I gonna take the clothes and the job. Sounds like a deal to me.” Abdul was smiling from ear to ear. “We gonna get Roger’s killer?”
“I sincerely hope so.”
Tan got up and pushed the buzzer.
Forty minutes later Abdul walked into the office in left over prison denim and asked for Tan.
#
They finished just as Abdul walked in the office.
Tan took Abdul to his clothier, WalMart.
12
The FBI in the Albuquerque office spent 45 minutes, before they determined the phone was turned off, trying to track the call before calling the Catron County Sheriff’s office to check on the supposed killing in Reserve. Their tracking gave them a location of the call as Lordsburg, but that was the sum total of their usable information.
An hour after their call to Catron County, the Sheriff himself called back informing them that there was indeed a dead body in the trunk of a rental that the ravens and coyotes were very, very excited about located at the Reserve Airport. A CSI team was dispatched from Albuquerque to supplement the two officer detail out of the Sheriff’s office that was securing the scene.
Fingerprints were lifted and sent to the FBI lab electronically for a possible match. Two teenagers had seen the cars at the airport when a drone flew in and caught their attention. They reported two men and a woman. The other car was a dark blue sedan, the boys said might be a Ford, but were not sure. They were watching the drone and not the cars.
The Deputy asked if they thought they could identify any of the three. They stated they could ID the swarthy man for sure. “He would have stood out in any crowd in the US.” One of the boys said. “He was a middle-easterner for sure. Dark, dark, and dark, fits him to a tee. He, without a doubt, was the most evil looking man I have ever seen. He looked at the woman with a smile that didn’t pay her any compliments and laughed at the white man at every opportunity. He acted like he was better than they were. I heard him scream at the man when something wasn’t just right. The man backed off in fear.” The other boy said they were all standing watching the drone taxi to the skirt the last they saw of them. Neither of the boys heard any shots. They did notice the car was still there on their way home.
An hour later a report came back on two matches on the fingerprints. The first was a match to an Air Force veteran who served at a base that had done much of the research and development on the Condor drone. The second was a man on the top twenty list held by the Department of Homeland Security, one tough Iranian who was wanted for questioning in reference to three major acts of terrorism in Europe, one in Africa, one in India, and at least three in the U.S. that had been broken up before execution. The description fit what the boys said.
