Sullivan and Romero exchanged glances as to say, what could possibly get worse than this.
“We just got word that Pedro is dead.”
The silence in the room was unbearable. Every member of the team felt defeated and miserable.
Dix broke the silence. “What the hell happened?” He wondered why Kovach hadn’t told him earlier.
Kovach replied, “Pedro was moved to a safe house in Ocotillo Wells without my knowledge. About six hours ago, thirteen suspected cartel hit-men stormed the house and took on the four man protection team. One team member died. Fortunately, a few DOJ helicopters and another support team were able to respond to the safe house during the assault. All threats were eliminated before they could get to Pedro.”
Petersen interrupted and said, “Wait, I thought you just said he was dead.”
Kovach without hesitation continued, “The protection team did their job. He died of a heart attack in the safe house. Medical staff tried to revive him, but it didn’t work out. None of the attackers survived, but their tactics, weapons, and vehicles suggest they were trained hit men from Mexico.”
“Jesus. This Calderon guy’s got to go down. I’m beginning to wonder if we can even stop him if he makes a move on the warehouse,” said Dix. He was thinking Jose Calderon was fearless and intimidating, and he wasn’t sure he or anyone else could stop him.
Romero chimed in, “We need to beef up security at the warehouse ASAP. His people could hit it at any time.”
Dix was about to reply to Romero, but Kovach beat him to it, “Negative, we can’t do anything to let him know we suspect him of anything. We have to appear to be operating normally.” He realized he was going to have to work hard to drop clues to Dix and the team so a decent plan would be developed to catch Jose. One thing is sure, Kovach thought, Dix won’t suspect me of anything now that he knows Jose went after my wife and daughter.
While the updates from Kovach were sinking in, Sullivan got a phone call and apologized as she stepped out to take it.
Sullivan whispered over to Dix as she walked out, “The database people may have a hit for us. I’ll be back in a second.”
Petersen looked at Dix. “You certainly got us in the middle of huge mess this time.” He watched Sullivan leave and caught himself checking her out. I gotta stop this, he thought.
“Me! You picked San Diego for the vacation spot, this all falls on you.”
Petersen continued, “Let’s draw straws to see who has to call the lieutenant and give him the update. I’m pretty sure he’s going to blow a gasket.”
The two shared a laugh and noticed Kovach was oblivious to them and staring out a window. They wanted to check on him, but thought some quiet time was probably best. Dix assumed the amount of stress Kovach was under would crush most men.
He got the attention of Romero and motioned for him to follow him and Petersen out of the conference room. They left Kovach alone for a few minutes and headed to the cafeteria for a quick bite to eat before resuming the battle against Jose Calderon.
Chapter 27
* * *
Sullivan received the name and phone number of a task force agent who may have useful information from an operator working in a place law enforcement members affectionately called the “War Room.” It was an intelligence center where law enforcement officials would share and input data about people they were investigating in the hopes of finding other people who may be working the same person or people. The concept is known as deconfliction and when used correctly, it can be an invaluable tool for an investigator. Sullivan was a huge fan of using the war room because she would often get leads for a case that were otherwise dead in the water.
Sullivan dialed the number she was provided and a man with a Polynesian voice answered, “This is Koti, who’s diss?” San Mateo County Sheriff’s Office Detective Koti Fakava did not have caller ID on his phone so he had no idea who was calling. The service was available to him, but he preferred not to use it because it was just another thing for him to worry about. Fakava suspected it was someone involving the war room since he had just got a call from them about a possible crossover in a case he was working.
She replied, “Hello Special Agent Fakava, my name is Michelle Sullivan with Homeland Security Investigations.”
“Oh yeah, hello Michelle,” replied Fakava. He was sitting in the rear of his minivan while on surveillance. He was the point car in an operation, and at the same time, dealing with a Homeland Security Agent. It meant he would have to hang up and direct agents at any moment if he saw something that needed to be reported. However, his heart was gold and he would help anyone the best he could. Special Agent Sullivan knew by his welcoming demeanor that whatever she needed, he would help.
“Special Agent Fakava, I’m calling you about…”
“Hold on,” Fakava said, “Call me Koti.”
Sullivan was so used to the federal world where everyone was very formal and apologized, “Oh, I’m sorry Koti, just habit for me to be so formal.”
“You can call me Koti,” he said as he chuckled, “I’ve worked with a few federal agents over the years, I understand.”
“All right Koti,” said Sullivan, “I’m calling you about a cell phone number I have for a case in San Diego. We’re working a case where an informant was being hunted by suspected cartel hit men. The informant recently died of a heart attack, and we think a well-known prominent business man in San Diego may be calling the shots. The informant’s car had thirty million dollars in it the first time he was attacked.”
“Uh huh,” said Fakava. While listening to Sullivan, he managed to keep his eyes glued on the suspect’s house, front door, and vehicle, as well as foot traffic in the area, and any other possible threats or things that would help him with his case.
She wasn’t sure how much to tell him about the case, but she instantly felt comfortable talking to him. She didn’t know how, but he had a way about him to set her at ease. The fact he didn’t sound impressed by thirty-million dollars made it was clear she wasn’t talking to a rookie cop.
She continued, “The biggest problem we have is that we think we may have a mole working in Homeland Security Investigations, someone who knew what was happening with the informant. The leak has been providing information to the suspected cartel leader. There were two attempts to kill the informant before he died of a heart attack and three federal agents are dead.”
“Uh huh,” replied Fakava again. He noticed a male adult exiting the suspect’s residence and slowly pulled binoculars up to his eyes to see the person’s face. His clothing and body type seemed about right, but a positive identification was always mandatory for him. He didn’t say a word to Sullivan and watched the man intently. He determined the man was, in fact, his primary suspect.
Sullivan felt a little guilty about sharing so much with a stranger and she was hoping to get some assuredness of confidentiality from Fakava. His response was far from reassuring. In fact, he said nothing really. She decided she couldn’t wait.
She said, “Koti does the number…”
“Hold on,” he said. It sounded like the phone was set down and Fakava was speaking on a car radio.
Sullivan heard, “Ok, he’s out. He's wearing a black shirt, blue jeans, and white shoes. He’s getting into vehicle #1, and he’s away traveling east bound on Hammyton.”
Sullivan could hear someone else on Fakava’s radio ask, “Confirm Hammyton or Hamilton?”
Fakava laughed. “Hammyton, like I said, east bound Hammyton. Who’s got him?”
Sullivan could hear a muffling sound and thought he may have been picking up his cell phone, “Sorry about that, what was that number you have?”
“I can call you back in a little while, you seem super busy.”
“I’m always busy. I can help you now, what’s that number you’re looking at?”
She was genuinely impressed by his ability to multitask and willingness to help her, especially because he didn’t know her and was
obviously a very busy man.
She answered, “619-200-1975.”
He thought about the number for a few seconds and said, “Yeah, that’s a number my mid-level supplier in Redwood City has called about once a month over the last four months. The person using that number could be a supplier for my guy here in Redwood City.” Fakava was driving now. He was behind the other surveillance units loosely following the primary suspect. While delegating assignments via the radio, he also continued to help her. During the discussion and surveillance, he suddenly realized he needed to call home and check in on his family as soon as he ended his conversation with her.
Sullivan asked, “Dang how can you do all that and remember this one phone number?” He had been an accomplished investigator for many years. He’d work some of the biggest cases northern California has ever seen. Yet, he was the most modest man you’d ever meet.
He replied, “The guy we’re following right now is Carlos Calderon-Luna. I know he has family in San Diego and down into Mexico, mostly Tijuana.”
Sullivan was also impressed that he didn’t boast like many narco cops she knew. She couldn’t believe he was so helpful, but it was reassuring. She had many experiences with other investigators who would never even return her phone calls, let alone actually share their information. It dawned on her that the guy he was following had a similar last name as Jose Calderon. She started to get a little excited as she was hopeful she’d get something useful to share with the team.
She said, “Our primary target in San Diego is a guy named Jose Calderon. He’s a pillar in the community. Huge donations to various groups, volunteers a ton of time throughout the community, and does fundraisers annually. None of us want to believe he’s a criminal mastermind.”
Fakava replied, “Uh huh.” He never believed in coincidence. Two men having similar last names ordinarily meant very little to his cases, but he was pretty sure it was significant now. He’d located a connection between a ‘Jose Calderon’ and Carlos Calderon-Luna prior to talking to Sullivan. Earlier he didn’t have time to figure out exactly who ‘Jose Calderon’ but he wished he’d done it now.
Sullivan could hear radio traffic that sounded like someone lost the primary car and a Nextel phone constantly chirping. She’d never participated in surveillance like the one she was hearing. She thought it must be chaotic in Fakava’s car.
The she heard him calmly say, “Ok, I’ve got the primary again. We’re at University and Bay set up to go south on Bay.” The surveillance units had briefly lost the primary suspect’s vehicle and while he was talking to Sullivan, he was also able to reacquire it and put the rest of the surveillance team back in position.
He said, “Jose Calderon sounds familiar to me. Calderon-Luna has a cousin residing in San Diego area, La Mesa I think, who could be worth looking at. Based on what you’re telling me, I think some of the people in your case have ties to my people in Redwood City. I have a confidential informant helping with my case who keeps telling me about cartel guys in La Mesa. But, it’s hard to work a case eight hundred miles away.”
Sullivan was ecstatic. She was hoping the guy Fakava was talking about was a high ranking member working for Jose Calderon, and she hoped he had an address for the man.
“I know you’re busy, any chance you know the address in La Mesa and the name of the cousin?” She felt kind of guilty asking for more information when he’d already provided her so much, but it was crucial for the case.
Fakava had been working this case for months and was known for having a terrific memory. If you were a bad guy or a family member of a bad guy and came across the desk of Koti Fakava, he would forever remember you. He possessed a wealth of knowledge acquired from hundreds of complex investigations. He had notes in his car and began thumbing through them in an effort to answer her question. He also kept a close eye on the behavior of the primary suspect while lurking in the shadows.
Fakava found what he was looking for. “The address is 3436 Trophy Drive. The name’s Sergio Rodriguez and he drives a white SUV.” He was intrigued by her case and was hopeful the information he provided would be helpful.
Sullivan said, “Thank you so much Koti. Do you mind if I call you with follow up questions?” She was impressed by him and thought he would be very useful as a contact not only in this case, but cases in the future. She barely knew him, but he struck her as the type of guy who would give you the shirt off his back without expecting anything in return.
Fakava answered, “No problem. Call me anytime. And Sullivan, if you do have a mole, be very careful.”
Sullivan thanked him again and took to heart his advice about being careful with a mole. She wondered if there was one person working with her feeding information to Jose Calderon, or could there be multiple people? She decided to run back to meet up with the team and share with them what she’d learned. Her first plan was to do a criminal history check on a person named Sergio Rodriguez. If she was lucky, she’d find one with a criminal record currently living in La Mesa.
Chapter 28
* * *
Jose Calderon had summoned two separate strike teams from Tijuana. He’d been given the best El Hefe could afford. In Mexico, highly trained commandos were readily available for the right price. El Hefe paid these men two thousand dollars apiece. It would roughly cost him a hundred thousand dollars to get his thirty-million back. Most of the hired hit men had previous military training. Some were even trained in the United States. These men worked for the highest bidder, and no target was safe. This group was particularly unique because they worked inside and outside the United States.
One by one, over a two hour period, killers hired by El Hefe crossed the San Ysidro border. Once across, they met in pre-determined locations and were picked up by some of Calderon’s men. After each man was accounted for and verified, they were all taken to a warehouse to meet Calderon.
In the warehouse, each man found a large black duffle bag containing tactical gear, a ballistic vest, a radio, flash bangs, a knife, a semi-automatic Glock 23, an AR-15 assault rifle, and a gas mask. Each man donned their gear, loaded their weapons, and met at a large table. They began to introduce themselves to the other men in the room while looking over the blue prints for a Sheriff’s Office warehouse.
Five minutes later, Jose Calderon arrived. He was excited to get the ball rolling. Once this is over, I can get back to making my own money, he thought.
Calderon entered the room and noticed most of the men looked him straight in the eyes. He noticed two men, on the opposite side of the table where the plans for the mission were laid out, did not look at him directly. He firmly believed that if a man did not look you in the eyes, he could not be trusted. This mission could not fail, no matter what, so he had to deal with the two men he did not trust. Calderon formulated a plan to kill the men to send a message to the others.
He walked over to greet the men. “Gentlemen, the only thing I require of you is trust. We have a difficult task ahead of us, but we cannot fail. You all have heard of El Hefe. In case you were wondering, my name is Jose Calderon, and everything you have heard about me and El Hefe is true. If you think you aren’t cut out for this mission, the door is right there,” he said as he pointed.
The men looked at each other. No one appeared ready to leave. He walked around the table and asked each man his name. When he got to the first man he did not trust, he noticed the man was nervous and subtly backing away from him. In an instant, Calderon took a large knife from his left pocket and pulled his Kimber .45 caliber firearm. The man hesitated for a second and it cost him his life as Calderon sliced his throat. The second man across the table had no idea he was next on Calderon’s death list. The remaining men drew their weapons and took up positions of cover. Calderon dropped to a knee and shot a single round in the second man’s forehead. He walked over to the second man who was twitching and moaning and calmly put two more rounds in the man’s head.
“Listen up men, holster your weapons, now. These two
men were not trustworthy. They were killed because they had already seen the plans and every one of your faces,” said Calderon. The remaining men holstered their weapons and exchanged confused glances.
Calderon continued, “Make no mistake gentlemen, I demand perfection. So does El Hefe. Once we retrieve the thirty million dollars, you all will be given twenty thousand dollar bonuses,” he looked around the room ensuring everyone was looking at his eyes, “Now, who here has the most experience with entries?”
Two men raised their hands and walked over to Calderon. The remaining men found places around the table to listen to the planning stages and provide input if they thought it was necessary.
Calderon pointed to various locations on the satellite maps and the blue prints for the warehouse. Most of the men kept quiet and listened.
One of the hired mercenary men was skeptical of trying to get the thirty-million dollars from the warehouse without some sort of resistance.
The man waited for Calderon to pause and said, “I think we need a diversion, a significant one at that, to pull as many deputies away from the warehouse as possible.”
Calderon liked how the man thought. “All ready done. I have a Homeland Security Investigations person on my payroll. He provided all the intelligence we’re looking at now, and he’s going to create the diversion when we take on the warehouse.”
The man nodded. “You said ‘we,’ tell me you aren’t actually going to make entry with us. The job is too risky. If you get caught with the money you’re screwed.”
Again Calderon was impressed by the man’s logic. He hoped the other men were half as good as the one he was talking to now.
“You’re absolutely right. I’ll be in the area in plain clothes to make sure everything goes smoothly. I’ve arranged a donation dinner event three blocks from the warehouse. I’m assigning you as the team leader. What’s your name?”
The Cartel Enforcers (The Bill Dix Detective Series Book 2) Page 11
