Coyote: Sometimes the wrong way is the only way

by Rosa Harrison

  Dirk got up and gently slid next to her in the high backed booth. Hesitating, he leaned into her. Sage’s body responded before her mind could object. When their lips met, Sage was ignited in flames. She lightly pressed her hand to the side of Dirk’s face as their kiss deepened. She indulged in the butterflies that took up residence in her belly, allowing them to carry her away in him.

  Neither of them noticed when the waitress returned. Hearing her clear her throat, they slowly broke their kiss. They stayed close, however.

  “I’ve always wanted to know what that lip gloss tastes like.” Dirk cooed, not taking his eyes off of Sage. “I’ll have the glazed salmon.”

  Sage giggled to herself. He’d selected the salmon, too. “I’ll have the same.”

  This time she initiated a soft kiss.

  The waitress chimed in, “You two are adorable. How long have you been together?”

  They simultaneously laughed.

  Dirk answered for them. “She’s not mine yet. But I’m working on it.” He kissed her hand and returned to his side of the table.

  “We’ll start with the fiery calamari,” he added, raising his brows at Sage, who winked in approval.

  They shared their appetizer and easy conversation. It was the break she needed: a normal conversation that didn’t include trafficking women across borders, or the Mexican cartel, or living a double life. It felt good to just be a woman. A woman who liked a man. A woman being courted.

  They finished what they could of their meals and boxed up the remainders in to-go containers. Sage was nudged out of her revelry by a feeling of being watched. It wasn’t like the pleasant feeling of Dirk’s watchful gaze -- this was unwelcomed. She did not look around for the source. She instead took out her compact mirror and flashed her teeth in the reflection. She did a once over of her eye makeup, then smoothed her ponytail. She replaced her mirror and excused herself from the table.

  She trekked purposefully towards the ladies’ room while straightening her fitted suit jacket. Just before she reached the door of the women’s restroom, she pulled her weapon and slid into the men’s restroom. She trained her Glock on the Hispanic man that stood in the middle of the floor. He, too, had his weapon drawn. She knew exactly who he was. He had been sent to the Compound to transact business for San Miguel in the past.

  Sage removed the safety, keeping her target locked in. “Why are you following me?”

  “Our eyes never leave you, Agent Wright. Your male companion is treading in dangerous waters. If he does not back off, we will have to back him off. He is to leave the Nunez and Demarteniz case alone.”

  The man lowered his weapon and took two steps forward, moving into Sage’s space. She could smell residual tobacco on his breath, which usually stirred her cravings. Now it made her want to puke.

  “Take care of it,” he ordered, then spit right next to her foot, splattering saliva on the tip of her shoe. He walked around her and reached for the door.

  “One thing,” she called to him.

  He turned to her just as she drew back the butt of her gun and thrust it into his nose. Blood gushed through his fingers as he doubled over in pain.

  “You fucking bitch!”

  Sage opened the door and left him there. She knew cartel protocol and there wasn’t a thing he could do without direct orders. There was also a major move to be made later that night that trumped his broken nose and bruised ego.

  She returned to the table satisfied at having addressed the invasion of her private life as well as the direct threat towards Dirk.

  “Ready?” Dirk asked her. “We’ll go over Demarteniz in the car.”

  *****

  Sage arrived at the Compound shortly after 9pm. The party bus she’d instructed Jitter to arrange was parked in front and one of her drivers, Harvey, was writing something on a clipboard.

  “Evenin’, boss,” Harvey greeted. “TJ and Jitter are inside. Everything is on schedule,” he said, and continued with his notes.

  “Thanks, Harvey.” Sage popped the trunk of her Durango and pulled out a black and gold Versace duffle bag. She handed it to Harvey. “Will you stow this with the other bags in the storage compartment for me?”

  For show, most of the bags were filled with random clothing and items that would later be dumped in a Goodwill bin.

  At the Compound entrance, Sage entered her code and slipped inside.

  The overhead light was on, but the room itself was empty. The large, angry hole she had kicked in the wall the previous night claimed her attention immediately and reflections of her twin brother flooded her mind. She shook the thoughts loose. She rolled the area rug that lay in front of the couch to one side, revealing a hatch lying flush with the flooring. A digital key pad was illuminated in neon and she punched in another code.

  Once unlocked, she lifted the heavy hatch door to an upward position. Sage moved down into the impending hole, stepping carefully onto the first step of a set of stairs. She travelled down a few steps, then reached above her head to grab the hand wheel on the hatch. With both hands, she pulled it downward until it closed and clicked into place. She turned the wheel clockwise until she heard a series of beeps, then punched in the code a final time.

  She descended completely underground, dismounted the stairwell and was greeted by Lorenzo, the entryway guard.

  He handed her the day’s logs. Despite the dim lighting, she skimmed through the logs rapidly.

  “Okay, so my forty are ready to move?” she asked, scanning the pages she was handed. “Who’s in observation? TJ?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Why don’t I have a sign off on the filtration system check since this morning?” Sage complained. She took out her cell phone and sent Jitter a text message.

  Meeting in ten. All hands on deck. Filtration unchecked since 7am.

  He replied instantly: 10-4.

  She then called her son. “TJ, be online in ten minutes, we’re meeting.”

  “Got it,” he answered.

  Sage moved down the dim and narrow corridor conducting a head count. There were ten girls assigned to each unit. Their cots were lined up military style and several were empty. Although the Compound could house up to one hundred women at one time, she tried to keep the head count between sixty and seventy-five. The conditions were more comfortable when they operated under capacity. It also prevented mishaps. The count had been at eighty-nine when the woman escaped on TJ’s watch. His texting didn’t help the situation but it could have been better controlled if they weren’t so full.

  Sage had decided to double up on the last run to move things along faster for Silas’ sake. She felt a pang of guilt at the series of events that had unfolded in the aftermath. Nothing good had come out of the decision. Her brother was being mutilated. Her son was now an accomplice to murder and one of her best friends was put in a compromising position. She still didn’t agree with the call to kill the woman but they certainly could not have risked the operation as a whole.

  Sage continued the count while in her own thoughts. She leaned in when she heard whispers amongst the women. The chat seemed idle, mostly about their families or pimp boyfriends but she was sure to note all that she heard. Her Spanish was choppy but she was able to understand and communicate if necessary. In law enforcement, being bilingual was an asset and in the DEA, it was a must.

  She didn’t initiate conversation with any of the girls, ever. She concentrated solely on her assignment and purposefully eluded their pleading eyes, choosing to focus only on bringing her brother home.

  Eight minutes later she was front and center in the Compound’s conference room. As required, all cell phones were face up at the designated table in the rear of the room.

  “Okay, keep it tight and right tonight, people. My team going to Vegas, you pull out first. This should be in and out. There are no borders to cross and you have a four and half hour trip time. You won’t have any suits on you, but you won’t need them.”

  TJ interrupted
from the conference room’s intercom. “If we don’t have your suits nearby, what happens if we get pulled over or something? I don’t know about anybody else, but I like having the protection of law enforcement.”

  Sage rolled her eyes, “You won’t need it. Everything is clean and all forty girls have IDs. Anything else on Vegas?”

  The room remained silent.

  “Okay, Vegas crew, you’re excused. Get ready to load up and head out.” Sage gave them time to exit, then continued.

  “My crew crossing the border for the pick-up: your job isn’t so simple. You’re driving across, coming back on foot. Supplies will be at mile marker 302. You will be picking up thirty girls on this run. Important, stay on the trails I’ve designated. Temps will reach triple digits so you’ve got to hit the cooling stations as scheduled. I will have suits at every checkpoint in case there are any issues. I want you on the road at midnight. Stay on my time table and don’t deviate. Questions?”

  Again, TJ answered. “Ma, I’m scheduled for Vegas. Who’s relieving me in here?”

  “Tiny is coming over. He’s helping Coco distribute IDs and attire. Hang tight, TJ. Anyone else?”

  “Sage, we have enough Spanish speakers on this run?” a young, clean shaven man asked. “Last time it was just me and Tony. We can’t hold down thirty that don’t speak English,” he explained.

  “You’ll have Enrique and Sammy who are both bilingual. That’s three of you out of four. You comfy with that, Danny?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m comfy. Thanks, Sage.”

  She winked at him and he tapped his chest twice with his fist. A signal of their understanding.

  “All right. If there’s nothing else, we are adjourned.”

  Everyone got up and retrieved their cell phones before exiting.

  “Jitter, hang back for a sec,” she instructed.

  Once they were alone, Sage told him about Silas’ fingers being sent to her that morning in her office. She surprised herself keeping the tears at bay. She also brought him up to speed on the cartel’s initial demand for fifty kilos to be moved for a Phoenix distributor, twenty more girls and the evidence she was returning.

  “So, let me get this straight. They want to add drugs to the deal and also want you to move twenty more on top of the thousand girls? You negotiated down to no more girls but you’re moving one hundred keys over the border instead of fifty? Plus, you smuggled out tagged evidence to put on the road to Vegas? Sage, you lost me on this one. A hundred kilos damn near covers Silas’ debt! The deal was already lopsided -- now we’re just straight up working for the cartel.”

  “Listen,” said Sage, “I’m biding my time. The evidence is just a pacifier. There’s clearly something in there they want but ultimately, they want the girls to land where they have sold them. I’m going to get the keys from the Mexico connect but I’m going to hold them up until I find my brother. One of the guys from that bust last month – Demarteniz -- flipped and gave up some pretty certifiable info. I think San Miguel is in Hermosillo. I’m going in for Silas. I have four separate transactions running simultaneously and the cartel will be so tied up watching all that, they won’t see me coming.”

  “Wait. Four?” asked Jitter.

  “I have the girls being sent to Vegas, the confiscated keys being returned with that load, a new set of girls being picked up from Nogales, and the one hundred keys being picked up for some Phoenix distributor.”

  “You never cease to amaze me, Sage. Again, pure perfection. I hope you know I’m going with you. You have no idea how fucked up I feel about the chic I shot. This is all my fault. I’m going to make this up to you and Silas.”

  “It was a mistake, Jitter. We’ll fix it. I do need your help, though. On this Mexico run, of course, no one else knows about the keys coming back over the border. As usual, I want you to clean the cars that aren’t coming back. But I also need you to do the pick-up for the kilos. I want you with my suit afterwards, as usual, bringing up the rear. Separate car, separate man crossing the border. Understand?”

  “I got you, big sis. Question. Who’s on the package being moved with the Vegas run?” Jitter asked.

  “Coco. I already had Harvey put in on board.”

  “Cool. I’ll see you in Mexico then. Stay safe and stay strapped,” Jitter told her.

  “Always.”

  Jitter held out his fist and the two touched knuckles before going their separate ways.

  What Just Happened?

  The party bus carrying the forty young women cruised the speed limit down the 93 highway. Other than the movie playing on TVs in front of each passenger, there was little activity. Most of the women slept while others watched Bridesmaids with earbuds inserted. What they actually understood was in question but the visual of engagement is what Sage wanted to convey with the instructions she had laid out for her team.

  Implanted in the façade of the Vegas bound party bus were six armed members of Sage’s organization. They were strategically sprinkled amongst the cartel’s product, one of the members being a dear and loyal protégé. Sage didn’t have many people she loved and trusted outside of her family and Jitter, but Coco was someone she could count on. Jitter handled Sage’s day-to-day but there needed to be a female’s presence and prowess when Sage herself wasn’t accessible. Her operation was complex, sinuous and critical to her brother’s survival. She couldn’t be there at every twist and turn so her team had to be on the level.

  Trustworthy and thorough, Coco spoke fluent Spanish and had not only taught Sage most of what she knew, she was the liaison between Sage and the women. More than that, she helped Sage keep a fragment of decency within the Compound walls, ensuring the guys didn’t bother or take advantage of the girls in their charge.

  Although Sage handpicked every member of her team and was certain of their loyalties, some were still criminals by design. She’d carefully employed those whose felonious backgrounds included no major crimes. She and Silas had grown up with most of her team. Sage herself was only one decision away from the corrupt path her counterparts, including her twin, had taken.

  Coco was in her early twenties, beautiful and dangerous: nothing to lose and everything to gain. She was sharp and fearless, a loner by choice. Her parents, like those of Sage and Silas, were deceased and she had no other family.

  Although Coco been jailed for misdemeanors such as petty theft, prostitution and possession, she was a good girl in need of direction. Sage vowed that once the nightmare with her brother was over, she would make sure she got Coco on the straight and narrow, along with her son, Silas and Jitter.

  Coco had a walnut colored Pomeranian puppy named Pebbles she took everywhere, including the Compound. Their names were a play on words for the pair when they entered a room: Coco and Pebbles.

  Pebbles was soothing for some of the women in the Compound. It was an unspoken restorative act Sage and Coco paid forward. They never discussed the vile nature of what they were doing. No one did. Sage and Coco simply grasped any opportunity to mitigate the weight of the act.

  Coco sat near the rear of the bus, manning one of the two on-board restrooms with Pebbles nestled in her lap next to her loaded revolver. She had one earbud in as she laughed quietly at Connie McCarthy flirting with an air marshal on the TV screen in front of her. Coco had the other ear trained on the bus.

  One of the women leaned across the aisle and, in Spanish, asked to use the restroom. Coco granted her permission and listened intently when the door was closed.

  Several minutes later, the woman still hadn’t returned to her seat. Coco sent a text to TJ who was a few aisles in front of her.

  Problem in rear bath.

  TJ casually got to his feet and gave Coco a nod. He scanned both directions of the bus ensuring that everyone was in place and nothing seemed out of sorts. He swiped his hand slowly over his left ear, putting the team on alert. Sage was adamant about limiting verbal communication amongst the women they moved, as no one knew what they could comprehend in
English. There were non-verbal cues for everything.

  With every member of the team now on alert, including Harvey, who viewed things unfolding in the wide rear view mirror, Coco began to make her move. She sat Pebbles down in the seat next to her and picked up her revolver. She got to her feet and moved to the restroom door. The sign above the door handle was switched to “occupied.” She positioned her body behind the swing of the door and rapped on it lightly.

  There was no response.

  She knocked again, this time harder, and spoke through the door in Spanish. Still there was nothing. TJ moved to the back of the bus with Coco and drew his gun. The bus hit a pothole in the road and rocked back and forth, throwing them off balance. Immediately they heard a loud thump from inside the restroom. TJ aimed his gun at the door and Coco yanked the handle outwards, pulling the door open. The young woman tumbled out head first. The rest of the passengers were turned in their seats trying to see what was happening.

  Coco dropped down to check her vital signs. “She’s alive but her pulse is weak.” She shook the woman, who was drenched in sweat and unresponsive, in an attempt to get her to open her eyes. They were all startled to hear a siren blaring behind the bus.

  “What’s going on, Harvey?” TJ yelled.

  “We’ve got company!”

  “Help me get her up,” Coco said quickly, pushing her own wild mane out of her face. “How many on us, Harv?”

  “Just one.”

  “Could that be your mom’s suits?” Coco whispered to TJ as they sat the half conscious woman in a window seat. Coco gently leaned her head against the window. “Maybe she decided to send them anyway?”

  “That’s just it! Her suits aren’t actual DEA agents like her. They aren’t law enforcement at all. They’re crew just like us with verifiable credentials at first glance.”