Coyote: Sometimes the wrong way is the only way

by Rosa Harrison

  She sat behind her desk while TJ reluctantly sat across from her. Sage stared at her son for several minutes. The silence draped itself over the entire room. Finally, she spat, “How the hell did she get out, TJ?”

  “Ma, I never left the observation room! I don’t know...”

  Sage reached for a stapler from the desk and threw it at him before he could complete his sentence. “Don’t insult my intelligence! That wasn’t my question.”

  TJ shielded his face from the flying stapler just in time. “Christ, Ma! Come on! Okay, I was texting.”

  They were interrupted by the bolt on the door being dislodged after a series of beeps. Jitter walked in. He took in the scene and threw both hands up as if to surrender before Sage’s wrath was directed at him.

  “It was a judgment call, Sage,” Jitter defended, hands still up.

  “Then why didn’t you tell me about it last night when it happened? My brother’s life is on the line and you’re making judgment calls? Dammit, Jitter, how am I going to explain to San Miguel that we not only lost but killed one of these women?”

  TJ spoke up, rubbing his forearm where the stapler had struck him. “Ma, she was going to...”

  “Stop talking, TJ!” she cut in. She took a deep breath and turned to face Jitter. “How many do we have in the bunkers right now?”

  Jitter pulled out his phone and typed something in. “Sixty-two. Including those, we’ve moved five hundred and two over the Mexican border so we’re halfway to the finish line.”

  Sage took a few steps over to the leather sofa, sat down and rested her elbows on her knees. She dropped her head and exhaled long and slow. She couldn’t articulate to them what she was feeling, which was the imminent danger her twin was in. The cartel would not take it lightly that their product had been tampered with. She was sure they wouldn’t kill him because they still needed her. What worried her was what their response would be.

  Before TJ and Jitter knew anything, Sage was up and driving her high heel into the wall, shouting profanities. They knew there was no calming her when she got that way. They both moved out of her path and waited.

  After her fit, breathing heavily, Sage snatched a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the desk drawer and stormed out of the door.

  Both men exhaled with relief once the door closed with her on the other side. They didn’t move right away, as she would sometimes circle back for a second round of destruction when she got that way.

  When the coast was clear, TJ said, “I’m not going out there. Paper, rock, scissors? Two out of three. Go.”

  They quickly engaged in three rounds of the hand game.

  “Ha! It’s on you, Jitter,” TJ exclaimed. “Should be you anyway. You’re the one that shot the girl. And somebody’s gotta tell her about the old man too. Good luck with that.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Her anger management clearly ain’t taking, so luck won’t be enough. All right. You go down and check the oxygen levels in the bunkers. Check on those three that were sick yesterday, too.”

  “Yo, Jitter, can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Do you ever feel fucked up knowing that once we move these women to wherever we move them to, they’re lives are over? I mean, we’re basically herding them off to be sex slaves, mules and who knows what else.”

  Jitter shook his head and clapped TJ on the shoulder. “It’s not our business and not our problem.”

  “Do you think they’re going to let my uncle go? Once we pay back his debt?” TJ searched Jitter’s eyes.

  “Don’t know, youngster.” Jitter exited without another word.

  *****

  Jitter stepped outside and let the door click closed.

  “I don’t want to talk to you right now, Jitter.” Sage exhaled a large ring of smoke into the air.

  “Thought you quit.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you right now, Jitter!” Sage repeated, enunciating each word with emphasis, her eyes fixed on the mountains in the distance.

  “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything. Can’t you just explain to them why I made the call I made? Better yet, I can get another girl to replace her. There. Done!”

  “We move them, Jitter. We don’t capture or kill. I’m still DEA, genius. When I get my brother back and this is all over, I am still fucking DEA.” Sage exhaled another cloud of smoke.

  Jitter paused in thought. “What can we do?”

  “They’ll get in contact. Until then, we set up for the next move. They want forty girls moved to Vegas. I want you to rent one of those tour buses. Have Harvey drive. There aren’t any borders to cross and an old white guy driving won’t raise any brows. Have Coco pick up some bachelorette party stuff and some swim suits.”

  “Damn, girl. Brilliant. I’m on it.”

  Sage put her cigarette out on the side of the building and moved towards the door.

  Jitter gently grabbed her arm. “I really am sorry. You and Silas are my family and I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  She turned to face him. “Well, you just did, Jitter.” She twisted her arm loose of his grip and punched in the door code.

  Diving In

  Relieved that she was able to hitch the elevator alone, Sage pressed the button for the fourteenth floor. As the elevator rose, she organized her thoughts as to how she would explain the death of the woman who had fled. Her escape was but one complication; the fact that Jitter and TJ had shot her dead was something that would undoubtedly have backlash.

  She’d waited the entire weekend and…nothing. The call would most certainly come, however; of this she was certain but, as usual, she didn’t know when or from whom. She didn’t even know if her explanation would be heard, but she was prepared with a full counter.

  She half expected an armed member of the cartel to be sitting at the desk in her office with his feet kicked up, cigar lit, gun aimed at her. This would be an improbable scenario given the level of security in the DEA field office, but she’d learned that anything was possible with this caliber of criminal.

  She unlocked her office door and moved inside with her hand on her weapon. Something was off. As unlikely as it was that that someone could be there, her instincts were on high alert. Despite the locked door. Despite security downstairs. Despite the metal detectors, someone had been there. She unsnapped the holster of the Glock on her waist and padded along the wall to her right. She flipped the light switch and the room flooded with fluorescent light. Her eyes settled on a red box placed in the center of her chair. She swallowed the nausea that swooshed around her stomach. There was a red bow tied on top and a card dangling from the side. It was too small to be a human head, she thought -- a signature of the San Miguel Cartel -- but her heart raced as she cautiously approached.

  Every inch of her being burned with dread. She nudged the lid off with the Glock’s barrel. She could hear her heart thumping in her ears as the lid fell to the side of the box. Placed on a white cushion were four fingers. Her brother’s. They were jaggedly severed right above where the knuckles should have been.

  “Oh God, Silas!” She fell to her knees as physical pain overtook her. She dropped her gun and covered her mouth with both hands to muffle the screams that fought their way from deep down. Her tears ran in streams. Her lungs seemed unable to find enough air in the room. Sage inched away from the box and fell to her hands and knees. She crawled to the door to shove it closed, thankful no one else was in the office yet. She made it to the trash can just as everything she’d eaten in the last twenty-four hours resurfaced. Between her sobs and the retching, she was barely able to answer her phone as it sang the IPhone tone.

  “Wright,” she breathed into the receiver wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “Ahh, you’ve received your package.”

  “You son of a bitch!” Sage screamed. “Put my brother on the line right fucking now!”

  “Tsk, tsk, Agent Wright. You’re in no position to make demands,” the caller
answered in a thick accent. “We understand you have lost some very valuable merchandise of ours. The terms have now changed.”

  “Now, you wait a minute. My men tracked that girl for hours to get her back. She was a liability! She had made it to border patrol, for Christ’s sake! They had to make a judgment call. She was killed to prevent her from talking. The heat is on me, not the cartel! Let me talk to my brother, cocksucker!” she demanded.

  Silence. Then, “You have thirty seconds.”

  There was a scuffle then more silence followed by her brother’s strained voice. “Sage, fuck these wet backs! Don’t negotiate...”

  A loud cracking thud, the undeniable sound of a punch to the face, refreshed her tears. Then four more blows. The caller shouted something in Spanish and spit, she was sure, on her brother.

  Silas’ voice returned to the line. “Sage, I love you, sis. I’m sorry I got you into this shit.”

  She could hear him gagging and swallowing as blood flowed in his mouth. “I’m going to get you out of there. I’m working as fast as I can!”

  “Let this go, Sage. This is my fuck up. I’m going to take my good hand and fucking kill every last one of these bean-eatin’ mutha....”

  This time the punching and the yelling went on for nearly a full minute. Sage took the phone from her ear. Her heart broke in a million pieces as she waited for the beating to stop.

  “Your thirty seconds are up, Agent Wright. Your brother should learn to mind his tongue. As I said, the terms of the agreement have changed. In light of our lost merchandise, we are adding twenty more girls to your Vegas run. You will also move fifty kilos tomorrow morning to a local supplier.”

  Sage regained her composure. She wiped away the residual tears and sat herself behind her desk. “What is your name?”

  “Makes no difference. Fifty kilos tomorrow morning. We’ll send the location for the new girls.”

  “I want to talk to San Miguel! My brother’s debt was 2.5 million. The agreement was one thousand girls, not drugs! You twisted bastards have sent me sick and underage girls. You’ve mutilated my brother and, frankly, I’m done here! How about you kiss my ass! Without me this whole thing shuts down. Either you get me San Miguel or I’m out!”

  Silence filled the line.

  “You’re quite brave, Agent.”

  “Fucking get me San Miguel!” Sage snapped then disconnected the call.

  She covered the box with Silas’ fingers and placed it underneath her desk. She waited for her phone to ring again. She’d taken a gamble barking those orders but she had to do something. She had to level playing ground.

  As she watched her phone intently, her attention was called to the door as it inched open and in poked Dirk’s easy face. He was the last – yet only -- person she wanted to see. She needed consolation. A hug. To be told everything would be okay, but that wasn’t going to happen. The next best thing would be to just experience a moment of normalcy.

  “Got a second?” he asked.

  She had almost forgotten she’d been crying; his look of distress and mad dash to her side reminded her. It was a good thing she had slid the box under her desk.

  “Sage, what’s wrong?” he asked desperately, examining her face. “Are you hurt? Is TJ okay?”

  She took a deep breath before responding. “I’m not feeling well, that’s all. Upset stomach.”

  She motioned to the trash can of vomit.

  He looked doubtfully into her eyes. “Whatever it is, I’m here if you need me. I stopped by because I had news about Nunez and Demartinez.”

  “Oh, okay. I didn’t realize we were investigating that. Didn’t we hand that over to Phoenix PD?”

  “Well, that’s just it. I was about to assign it out, but there was so many red flags I wanted to run some stuff by you. Demarteniz gave us something valuable on their main hub before the cartel got to him. But if now is not a good time, it can wait.”

  “No, no. It’s fine.” She reveled at the possibility of this being the break she needed to get out of the dark world she had entered trying to save her brother. If she could just get a location on San Miguel, she could get to Silas. “I’m all ears. Let’s hear what you got.”

  “Demartinez gave us an address in Hermosillo, Mexico. I have logistics on it, trying to confirm a link to San Miguel. But here’s what I can’t figure out. We had Nunez and Demartinez on twenty-four watch, yet, they end up dead. So, I pulled the sign in logs for the entire building twelve hours before and twelve hours after their deaths.” Dirk slid a small stack of papers to her. “What do you notice?”

  “Sign-ins are deleted,” Sage said, thumbing through the papers slowly.

  “Exactly! Which means someone internally knows something or San Miguel has an inside man. There’s one more thing.” He sat down across from her and looked over his shoulder at the open door. He lowered his voice an octave. “I think something is happening right under our noses, Sage. Last Friday night there was a double murder at a Greyhound bus station. One was a female illegal with no identification. The other, get this, was a seventy-year-old man with a rap sheet a mile long. I think they were connected to San Miguel. There’s no hard evidence, just a hunch.”

  Before Dirk could explain his theory further, her cell phone rang out, displaying all zeros on her screen. It was the call she’d demanded. She desperately needed to hear just how much Dirk knew, but San Miguel’s call would only come once.

  “I’ve got to take this. Can I come by your office in fifteen?”

  “Sure thing.” Dirk gathered up his papers and closed the door behind himself.

  Vegas Bound

  “Can I start you two out with something to drink?” the waitress offered.

  Sage searched her menu. “I’ll just take a sweet tea with fresh lemon on the side.”

  “And for you, sir?”

  Dirk smiled at Sage then answered, “I’ll have what the lady is having.”

  “Perfect. I’ll grab those and I’ll be back to take your orders.”

  The waitress glided off and Sage put her menu down. Her mind was still reeling from everything Dirk had told her before they left the office. It turned out that Demarteniz was much higher up in rank than anyone they had ever gotten to flip. She partially agreed to dinner because she enjoyed Dirk’s company but more so because she needed to probe further. Silas didn’t have the six weeks it would take to move the rest of the girls. Not without proper medical attention. Capo San Miguel had acquiesced to her proposal all too readily. She didn’t trust that he would keep his word.

  The new agreement was to double the kilos he wanted her to get over the border for a Phoenix distributor rather than increasing the number of women scheduled to move to Vegas later that night. Moving the women was difficult enough for her psyche; adding more to the body count was something she wanted to avoid at all costs. She’d learned the cartel’s main source of income was women, not drugs, so already, something wasn’t adding up with the agreement. To sweeten the deal, she’d thrown in the return of some of the confiscated evidence from the raid on San Miguel’s Arizona locations, but that would only buy a minimal amount of time for Silas. She now had to figure out where they were keeping him.

  “What makes you believe that Demarteniz was telling the truth about this location in Hermosillo?” she inquired a little more forcefully than intended. “I mean, there is nothing substantiating San Miguel’s connection.”

  “Hold on, tiger. Can I have a moment to just be here with you? Do you realize how difficult it is to see you outside of work?”

  Sage smiled lightly. “I’m sorry, you’re right.” She scooped up her menu and began to peruse. “Work stuff can wait.”

  As difficult as it was for her to push San Miguel’s location and, subsequently, her brother’s location, out of her mind, she focused on trying. Thoughts of Silas in Mexico, suffering, threatened to burst forward, manifesting into a scream, but she forced herself to remain stoic. The grotesque delivery to her office danced into her menta
l next. She fought it back.

  Her concentration was fragmented. She read the description of the glazed salmon entree. The red box. Aged cheddar & pablano mac ‘n’ cheese. Silas coughing up blood.

  Dirk reached across the table and lowered her menu. “Thank you for accepting my invitation, Sage.”

  She blushed, secretly thanking him for stirring her out of her mental anguish. The waitress reappeared and placed their drinks in front of them.

  “You guys need more time?”

  Sage glanced at her menu then at Dirk. “Could we have just a few more minutes?”

  The waitress left them, promising to return shortly.

  Once alone, the two continued to glance over their menus. Occasionally, they would look up and catch each other’s eye. Smiles played on their lips and giddiness ran like electricity between them. Sage couldn’t help but blush further at her own schoolgirl reactions. There was something comforting about Dirk. Something that made her find a way to smile.

  “Do you always flirt this aggressively with your colleagues?” Sage questioned, laying her menu down once more.

  “Nope. Not ever, actually.” Dirk continued to read his own menu, not meeting her inquisitive gaze.

  “Why are you so interested in me, Agent Bledsoe?”

  Still, he didn’t look up. “You’re special.”

  “How do you know that? You don’t know me.”

  “Oh, I know enough.”

  This time Sage reached over and lowered his menu. “What do you know…exactly?”

  Finally, Dirk made eye contact. He looked at her hard and long. She felt naked sitting in front of him, yet safe somehow.

  He began explaining how she moved him in the way she talked about and loved her brother and son. How the energy she put into her job and the passion with which she moved through life was past charming. He even shared that her eye rolling habit was endearing.

  He added, “I’ve worked alongside you for six months and you’re the most serious but funny, predictable but surprising, uncompromising but indulgent woman I’ve ever met. You are beautifully complex and I can’t stop thinking about you. And there’s this one thing I’ve been dying to do.”