The Cartel Enforcers (The Bill Dix Detective Series Book 2)

by Swinney, C. L.

  Sullivan stared into the eyes of the CI and said, “It’s life in prison, or you give me a name, an address, or a vehicle. I vouched for you, it’s the only reason you are still alive. You’ve got five minutes to figure it out. When I’ve told you I would do something for you, I’ve done it,” the CI continued to shake his head and look weary, “We’ll do whatever we can to protect you, if you cooperate. But if you don’t, you’re on your own.” She was certain the CI was close to the guys they were looking for.

  The CI was speechless. His heart was pounding. He began scanning the area to see if he could make a run for it. He didn’t know the guy with Sullivan and wasn’t sure how far he could push him. His experience with cops was that they had a very short fuse. He sized up the man and decided it was best he didn’t push things with him. He also noticed Sullivan meant business and he recalled what happened to the last person who crossed her.

  Desperation forced him to test Sullivan. “Screw it, take me in then. These guys have people everywhere. They’re in the colleges, the courts, the DMV, the prisons, the churches, and the hospitals. Literally everywhere. I’d be dead for sure if I talk.”

  Sullivan opened the rear car door and pushed the CI inside. She slammed the door shut and looked over at Petersen with a glare that made him uneasy. He was impressed with her ability to deal with stress. He couldn’t explain it, but he looked at her differently after watching her with the CI. He thought maybe it was the lighting or the fact he was lonely; but whatever it was, he found himself extremely attracted to her.

  He figured by the way she looked at him, she was basically asking for a little help with the situation… so he obliged. He motioned for her to get into the front passenger seat and asked for the keys to the car. He got in and looked at the CI in the rear view mirror. The CI seemed at peace with his decision to kiss them off. Not for long, thought Petersen. He put the car in gear and drove away from downtown and toward Mexico.

  The CI noticed Petersen was not driving toward the local jail, but toward the Tijuana border.

  “Hey, what are you doing? Where are you taking me?” He looked nervous as hell as sweat dripped off his brow.

  Sullivan was about to respond when Petersen tapped her on the leg and made a signal with his hand to keep quiet.

  They continued to drive toward the border and Petersen noticed the CI began to lick his lips a lot and was perspiring profusely. He was stone cold bluffing the CI and was formulating a story to tell him when the moment was right as to what he and Sullivan were doing with him. Sullivan looked over at Petersen with a grin as if she figured out what he was up to.

  About a mile from the border the CI screamed, “What are you doing! Sullivan what is this crap?”

  Petersen decided it was time to make his play. He retrieved his cell phone and dialed a spoof number. Once it picked up, he explained to the fake Homeland Security Investigations (HSI) agent on the other end that he had a felony fugitive who wanted to turn himself in at the border.

  He also shared that the felony fugitive was a member of a violent cartel and might be wanted for several murders related to turf wars along the border.

  When the CI heard that, he snapped, “You can’t do this! This is bullshit! Let me out of here. Sullivan, tell him he can’t do this!” The CI was panicking and had no idea what to do. He pulled on the door handle but the rear doors only opened from the outside. He was trapped and freaking out.

  “Well kid, you picked the wrong day to test a handler. I’m going to release you to HSI who will turn you over to the local Mexican authorities. You think it’s rough living under our protection, wait until you try to survive in Mexico, especially after the story I tell HSI,” replied Petersen confidently. He was an excellent poker player and it was useful with crooks.

  Sullivan pretended to support what Petersen was doing. She looked over at the CI, “He called your bluff buddy. You’re done. And don’t even ask to call your wife.”

  The CI was hysterical. He was in a real mess. Petersen waited a few more minutes and kept driving toward the Tijuana border crossing. As they retrieved their credentials to show the Border Patrol agent, the CI cracked.

  “Ok, ok, stop dammit! Get the hell out of here and I’ll give you a name,” he yelled. He was pissed, but wanted nothing to do with HSI or Mexico. He couldn’t believe Sullivan did him dirty.

  Sullivan looked at Petersen with an approving smile and said, “Take the next right and head parallel along the border. There’s a spot a few blocks from here we can pull in and talk some more.”

  Petersen joked some with her, “Are you sure, I have great stories to share with the Mexican authorities?”

  Sullivan looked back to see the CI was pale and trembling.

  “Yeah, I think we’re good.”

  Petersen pulled in where Sullivan told him to and put the car in park. It was a commercial area with several buildings and abandoned lots. He saw only one way in and one way out, which bothered him a bit. Before making the narcotics team he was a SWAT guy. He couldn’t help it, no matter where he went, he always looked for a way out and ambush points.

  Sullivan turned around and asked the CI, “What do you have?”

  The CI only said two words, “Jose Calderon.” Sullivan shot a look over at Petersen that made him think whoever Jose Calderon was would be troublesome.

  Petersen raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Jose Calderon?”

  Sullivan was still stunned, but needed to know if the CI was talking about the Jose Calderon, the pillar of the community, the restaurant owner, a man considered a saint in San Diego based on all his volunteer work and donations to local charities.

  Before Sullivan could ask a follow up question, the CI looked at her and said, “He owns El Diablo downtown.”

  “Unbelievable. How sure are you?” Sullivan was still not convinced they were talking about the same person. If they were, and could confirm it, all hell was about to break loose. She needed concrete proof before letting the bosses know.

  “Sure enough that I’m a dead man walking. Even if you get lucky and catch him, they’ll send a Collector to kill me and my family. Only way my family and I survive is by you two killing Jose before he figures out who ratted him out. You need to put the whole crew down or I’m dead,” He said as he stared out the window of the car and wondered where he’d gone wrong in life.

  Petersen butted in. “That speech didn’t answer her question. Sounds like this Jose guy has flown beneath the radar for a long time and made a lot of friends. We’ll start looking into him, but how do you know he’s the guy calling the shots?”

  The CI hesitated before he gave up everything. He wondered if there was any way out of the mess his mouth had created, but he couldn’t find one. All he cared about was his wife and kids now. He felt it was better to trust the police would do what they said they would do than have to deal with his murderous second cousin Jose Calderon.

  He let out a big gasp and said to Sullivan, “Look, Jose Calderon is family. I actually work for him. He pays me to keep eyes on you and other law enforcement people in San Diego. The only people I’ve given you to bust have been his competitors.”

  The comment caught them off guard. The ease of which he explained how he was working both sides of the fence was alarming. Sullivan was thankful she hadn’t provided him with information other than standard stuff to have successful missions. Nevertheless, like it or not, he’d just busted the case wide open.

  The CI, Sullivan, and Petersen got back in the car and headed toward the office. Sullivan and Petersen were madly dialing Kovach, Dix, and Romero. Petersen called Dix and he didn’t answer. Sullivan was able to brief Kovach of the latest development as Dix called Petersen back.

  Dix asked, “What did you stir up?”

  “We have a person to look at, his name is Jose Calderon. A CI working for Sullivan spilled the beans, but it’s going to get messy pretty quick,” replied Petersen.

  Dix laughed and said, “Like it isn’t already. We’re meeti
ng a CI working for Romero in a few minutes. We’ll head to headquarters right after.” Dix was eager to hear all about some guy named Jose Calderon, but right now he was backing Romero. Dix was hopeful whatever they could dig up from Romero’s CI would also help with the case.

  “Ok, we’ll see you in a bit, and be safe,” said Petersen.

  Chapter 18

  * * *

  Dix updated Romero as they pulled next to what looked like an abandoned building just south of the Gas Lamp District. He couldn’t help but compare his current surroundings to a similar run-down looking area back home known as Liberty City.

  Romero digested the update and wondered who Sullivan’s CI was. How the hell did anyone know anything about Jose, thought Romero, this can’t be good. He knew in order for Sullivan to share the information she would have made sure it was accurate.

  Dix asked Romero as they exited the car, “So who the hell is Jose Calderon?”

  “He’s a pillar in the local community. Jose donates money and time to local charities. His damn restaurant, El Diablo, is a local hang out for cops.” Dix noticed Romero called him Jose like they were friends. Then he figured he was reading too much into it. If Calderon was a well-known figure in the community, most people would probably address him as Jose.

  Dix thought about the last part of Romero’s statement and chuckled. “Damn, what better way to get the dirt on who the locals are going after than offering up your restaurant to the cops?”

  Before Romero could reply the front windshield exploded. Multiple gun shots rained down on them from an elevated position and they reacted quickly.

  “Grab cover!” yelled Dix. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Romero was already doing that and reaching for the radio to request cover units. Numerous rounds filled the front of the car. Several of them ripped through the radio equipment. Romero met eyes with Dix and shook his head to indicate the radio was now useless.

  Dix fired a few rounds toward the muzzle blasts he saw on the second floor of the building he assumed was abandoned moments before the shooting began. He frantically reached for his cell phone and dialed 911.

  Romero sprung the trunk open and yelled to Dix, “Long rifles in the trunk as well as vests, cover me while I grab them.”

  Dix finished off his magazine while Romero grabbed two tactical vests and an AR-15 rifle. As Dix put on his vest he noticed there were two shooters, both on the second floor that appeared to be firing from the same general area. He chambered a round in the rifle and carefully squeezed rounds toward the shooters as the call on his cell phone finally went through.

  Dix yelled to Romero as he tossed him the cell phone, “It’s 911, give em’ our location.”

  Romero caught the phone and calmly identified himself while requesting emergency cover. The dispatcher had difficulty hearing him as his voice appeared to be covered by bullets being fired. Two rounds exploded near Romero’s feet forcing him to jump back and caused him to lose his grip on the cell phone. He turned toward the direction of where the rounds were coming from and fired his handgun until it was empty.

  Dix caught the reflection of a rifle muzzle in a window and fired the rest of his magazine where he thought the shooter would be. The barrel of the gun jumped then fell out of sight.

  Romero motioned to Dix that there were two more rifle magazines in the trunk. As Dix went for the magazines more rounds started hitting the front and roof of the car again, but this time, they were coming from a different area. They both assumed one of the shooters had moved, and since only one person was shooting at them, it was likely the other shooter was dead or had fled.

  Dix was able to get the extra magazines and located better cover behind several old dumpsters. He fired a few rounds at the window where the last rounds came from while Romero moved to cover.

  For the next six minutes, the single shooter pinned them down. Romero tried to retrieve Dix’s cell phone, but every time he moved out a bit, rounds would plunk the brick façade near the dumpster.

  He’d been in numerous fire fights as a veteran of war in Desert Storm and Afghanistan. He calmly stated, “He’s got us pinned down. You got the call out right?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t tell them about the position of the bad guy.”

  “Well, once the shooter sees the cavalry coming, I’m pretty sure they’ll figure it out because he’ll fire on them too.”

  Romero gave Dix a puzzled look as he noticed the firing had stopped. He poked his head around the corner and saw police cars speeding with lights and sirens blaring speeding toward them. He wished they were closer, but they stopped short to set up a perimeter. Thank God, thought Romero. He was freaking out and didn’t want to die.

  About five minutes later, tactical units with a SWAT bearcat worked their way toward them and the marked patrol units. The shooter kept pelting the bearcat with rounds, but the armor plating surrounding the vehicle was preventing penetration. Once the bearcat got up to Romero and Dix, they both jumped in. They looked at each other and gave each other a high-five.

  The SWAT team leader looked at Dix. “Why is it where ever you go, you get into fire fights?”

  Dix winked at him and replied, “I have no idea, besides, this one’s on Romero.”

  He shook his head and said, “Give me the update.”

  Dix quickly relayed the circumstances. As he finished, the shooter began aiming for the tires of the bearcat and

  finally hit one.

  He got on the radio and said, “Get this bucket the hell out of here!”

  A command center was set nearby and within a few minutes a tactical team was advancing on the shooters location. Over a loud public address system the suspect was ordered to stop shooting and come out with his hands up. The shooter continued to fire rounds. Dix thought, man, this guy’s crazy.

  The captain on scene determined it was time for action. She gave the order to take out the threat by lethal force.

  Flash bangs and tear gas were shot into the entire second floor. The percussion and heavy plume of tear gas was daunting to feel and witness, even from a block away.

  Petersen and Sullivan arrived at the scene and tracked down Dix and Romero.

  Sullivan shook her head and asked them, “You guys all right? What the hell happened?”

  In unison they both replied, “We’re good.”

  Romero excitedly continued, “Sullivan, you remember Shorty, my CI, I wanted Dix to meet him and question him about the cartel. We pulled up and two shooters opened fire on us!”

  The group turned toward the building as a large explosion shook the command post vehicle. Petersen and Dix looked at each other in disbelief. Once the debris dissipated, they could see half of the building had been blown off followed by a large cloud of black smoke. All contact with the SWAT team was lost.

  As Dix, Romero, Sullivan, and Petersen grabbed rifles and began running toward the scene, the captain stopped them and said, “It’s Code 4! They have one detained. Bomb squad is suiting up and will do the rest of this with the robot.”

  The group looked at each other with a sense of relief.

  Romero looked at Dix, “I’m sorry man, this guy is a little crazy, but I didn’t know he would shoot at us.”

  Dix knew the young agent was feeling guilty and believed he had no idea his informant would go rogue.

  “Don’t worry about kid; CI’s are unpredictable at best.”

  Petersen looked up to see Kovach speeding toward them. “Your buddy is in-bound hot.”

  Dix looked toward the end of the block and saw Kovach speeding toward them.

  “I bet he’s about to blow his lid,” Dix said while he laughed.

  As Kovach exited his vehicle, the SWAT team arrived back at the command post with a man in handcuffs. The SWAT members with explosives experience were asking to suit up with the Bomb Squad, while the remaining SWAT members volunteered to personally book the suspect in jail.

  Romero looked at the man they had in custody and could not believe
his eyes. It wasn’t Shorty, but rather Felipe Calderon, a known killer for another cartel. Dix saw fear in Romero’s eyes. Sullivan looked over at the man and instantly recognized him also.

  Dix looked at Romero, “Okay, who is he and why are you looking at him like that?”

  “His name is Felipe Calderon, a murderous psychopath and known enforcer for a cartel. He’s number five on the most wanted list in Mexico, and hasn’t been in the United States for at least ten years,” answered Romero without looking at Dix.

  Sullivan continued, “Whatever caused him to be here is big. He must have had a major problem on his hands to come to the US. One thing’s for sure, he won’t say a word.”

  Petersen looked at Dix and gave him a look like oh yeah?

  Dix picked up on the last name of the suspect. He looked at Sullivan, “This guy related to Jose Calderon? The guy your CI gave up?”

  “Felipe is Jose’s brother, and they’re mortal enemies,” replied Sullivan.

  “Well, at least we have that going for us,” said Dix sarcastically, “Maybe I can get him to talk?” He formulated a plan of attack mentally against Felipe. He hoped to use what he knew about cartels, turf wars, and hatred to extract something useful to help him capture Jose Calderon.

  Both Sullivan and Romero shook their heads, “No way.”

  Dix chuckled and Petersen snorted.

  “Neither of you have seen Dix do what he does best, break people. If anyone can get him to talk, it will be Dix,” Petersen said.

  Dix looked at Sullivan. “Have SWAT transport Felipe and place him in protective custody. Let’s grab some food and coffee, and see if we can get anything useful from him back at headquarters.”

  “Deal,” replied Sullivan.

  Dix looked over at Kovach, “I’ll deal with Kovach.” They all grinned. None of them wanted to deal with him, especially after how the morning had started.