Path to Justice

by Jim Dutton

  Nick fared better than the rest of the team that night. At least he’d been inside, out of the cold wind. Jerry had been on the Protector with Commander Ritter and Josh had been wearing a bullet proof vest under a life jacket aboard the rapid response boat, Defender. Mario had been on the beach at the Moonlight Beach location and Pepe had been at South Ponto Beach, Carlsbad. Nick walked the 300 yards to his car, which he’d parked along the roadway that led to the UC campus. He drove home and got four hours sleep before going back to the office.

  When Nick got to the office, Deputy U.S. Marshal Lily Perkins was waiting for him. “I’m Felicia’s handler in Topeka. We’re flying back to Topeka this afternoon. I don’t believe her new identity nor her location has been compromised. I’ve spoken with Felicia a number of times since I arrived two days ago. She never told her aunt where she was living and the name she was using. I had one of the shooting investigating officers interview Felicia’s aunt and her cousin Alan. Neither knew where she’d been, or if she was using a different name.”

  “Okay. Have you spoken to my agent, Pepe Cantana, who was at the shooting and spoke to the aunt?”

  “Yes Mr. Drummond. He agrees that it’s safe for her to go back. There’s no question in my mind that Felicia now fully understands the importance of obeying the rules.”

  “I hope so, because if she doesn’t, next time the Famillia will make it a moot point.”

  Deputy Marshal Perkins added, “Felicia recognized the voice on the taped telephone call to Sendow. It was her ex-boyfriend, Luis. She didn’t recognize the photo of the Banco Real account holder, Señor Castillo.”

  “Thanks Lily, that helps a lot. We now have Luis, the day after the Montana drug bust, telling accountant Sendow, on a burner phone, that they have to meet—something important has just come up.”

  “Mr. Drummond, we’ll be checking in on Felicia each day she’s in Topeka.”

  “Thank you, have a safe trip.”

  Nick had used his “El Jefe” status to switch locations for the night. He would be at the Carlsbad beach and Pepe would monitor the glider port location. Nick had the feeling that the cartel wouldn’t be overly concerned that Highway 101 ran along the beach. There were no residences or commercial buildings there, and the lagoon took up most of the eastern side of 101. Anybody driving that stretch of the road in the middle of the night would be focused on getting home, not on what might be happening on the beach. In any event, on a moonless night, a driver couldn’t see people and a boat on the beach. This beach would be in keeping with the Familia’s macho, in your face attitude. Further, the surf is less at the lagoon mouth and readily accessible parking is just down the beach. The more Nick thought about it, the more confident he became that South Ponto would be the beach.

  Nick stopped at Ana’s condo on the way. Her mother greeted him at the door. A spry woman in her mid-sixties, she had the same large hazel eyes which locked on to you. When her husband died, she took over his furrier business. She struggled the first few years, but made it work. She was the strong nudge behind Ana’s academic success—always pushing her to do better. Mother Alina was disappointed that Ana didn’t pursue pre-law or pre-med at Columbia. She didn’t understand Ana’s passion for criminal justice. Alina’s parents had been raised in Romania and had instilled in Alina that there was no such thing as government-directed justice. Alina didn’t realize that the years of abuse that Ana suffered in the hands of her classmates motivated her to seek solutions in the criminal justice system. Alina also didn’t approve of Ana’s first husband—an FBI agent. Even Ana realized it had been a big mistake—she said one time, “You can’t have two hard asses living under the same roof.”

  Alina not so subtly interrogated Nick about his life. Nick’s responses seemed to satisfy her. She gave Nick a kiss on the cheek and went to bed. Nick felt like he had just undergone a brutal cross-examination. He turned to look at Ana. She smiled and raised her eyebrow as if to say, Oh well. That’s my mother.

  Nick filled Ana in on the night’s operation and his hunch. Ana said, “You seem to have a nose for trouble, yours and others. You may be right. How about an extra hand at South Ponto?”

  “Yeah, maybe you could swat the bad guys with your cane. Ana, you already gave at the office. You’re under wraps for now. A precious asset to be held in reserve for when we need you the most.”

  “Well, I would prefer you called me a precious piece of ass.”

  Nick grinned. “You’re that too.” Nick gave Ana a long hug, grabbed her precious ass, and kissed her good-bye. “Wish me luck Ana.”

  Four SWAT team members plus Nick were in desert camouflage in the bushes nestled against the sand dunes that led to the beach. Nick had strict orders from the SWAT team that he was just there to observe. He was to remain where he was, keep his head down, and stay out of the way.

  It was beginning to turn into a rerun of the night before. No activity. The hourly check-ins by each interdiction group were standard. Nick was planning the upcoming search warrants in his mind when the radio stirred him from his reverie. “Delta One. Surface radar has detected two boats traveling north, close to the coast. They’re traveling at about 25 knots.” Nick quickly translated this in his head to about 30 mph. Delta One continued, “The 15 foot boat has a small vertical profile, consistent with a hard rubber platoon boat. The larger boat is trailing the first boat and has a higher vertical radar profile, consistent with a deep V hull, power boat. They have both just passed our Moonlight Beach check point and are heading towards the Cain checkpoint. Delta one and Delta Two are following, at speed, with Delta Two hanging back some in case anything develops at the other two sites. Over.”

  Nick then heard the leader of his interdiction team come on the air. “Cain, we hear you. Nothing to report yet. We’ll be on the lookout for any activity at the beach parking lot, 200 yards south of our location. From your report Delta One, can we expect the boats to arrive here in about six minutes? Over.”

  “Delta One, correct. Over.”

  Nick felt the adrenaline flooding his body. He was wide awake, fully alert. He was hearing sounds in the night that he hadn’t heard or paid any attention to before Delta One’s call. A large pickup with a camper shell on its bed pulled slowly into the beach parking lot. “Cain, pickup truck with camper shell just pulled into the parking lot. Beta team, be ready to move to our location for back-up. Over.”

  “Beta, we’ll be ready. Over.”

  At a time when there was no traffic on 101, two large men got out of the pickup carrying bags. They rushed over the edge of the parking lot and down to the beach. They were running along the shoreline towards the southern edge of the lagoon’s mouth where the breakers were the smallest.

  “Delta One, the two suspect boats are closing in on Cain team location. The larger suspect boat is hanging back. We’re a half mile off shore, without running lights to avoid detection. Delta Two is about a mile behind us. Over”

  “Cain, I hear an outboard motor approaching from the south. The two suspects on the beach have two duffle bags apiece and backpacks. One is removing a flashlight from his backpack. Over.” Nick was thankful for their infrared googles which allowed them to make out the details.

  “Cain. Suspect is shining flashlight out to sea. Other man seems to have a cellphone to his ear. Keep channel open. I’ll report when I see the boat.” Ten seconds passed, which seemed like 10 minutes. “Cain, the perp’s flashlight gave me a glimpse of a rubber platoon boat, heading straight for shore, just outside of the breakers. Time for Beta backup. Over.”

  “Beta, gear packed, leaving now, should be there within four minutes. Over.”

  “Delta One, launching RHIB off rear ramp. Running the water jets on silent mode. RHIB should intersect beach in two minutes. Over.”

  Nick could see the suspect’s boat crash through the last breaker and the man steering the outboard motor lift it up as the boat reach
ed the beach. Both men jumped out and pulled the boat onto the beach. The two from the pickup were hastily removing plastic bundles from the boat and putting them into their duffle bags. The two from the boat were pushing the boat back into the water when the SWAT leader said, “Now!” The four men rose from the dunes, specters in the night, pointing machine guns.

  “Police! Get on the ground now!” One of the SWAT members shined a powerful beam directly in the eyes of the suspects. The two with the duffle bags dropped to the ground. The two others kept trying to push their boat back into the water. Delta One’s RHIB could be seen powering towards the chaos, just outside the breakers. Rapid shots were heard from out in the water, way past the RHIB. Nick was taking this all in from his higher vantage point and his night goggles.

  “Cain, this is Nick. RHIB, heads down! Shots being fired towards you from power boat. Delta One, need immediate support. Over.”

  “Delta One. We’re coming full speed in support. Fifty caliber guns ready. Over.” Nick soon saw tracer fire from two guns farther out in the ocean. They were going right over the top of the power boat. The power boat swerved to the right. A roar of its engine filled the air. The tracer bullets followed in its direction.

  “Cain, Nick here. Thanks for the help, the power boat has sped back down the coast. Over.” Nick saw the four occupants of the RHIB pop up over the hard rubber, with guns pointing at the suspects’ platoon boat.

  “Hands up! Any suspicious movement and you’re dead!”

  “Delta One. Delta Two, intercept power boat. Boat traveling south at 60 knots. Extremely dangerous, automatic weapons. Over.” Josh was thinking he was getting a hell of a lot more than he bargained for. He just wanted to come out of this alive. The Defender Response boat, with its crew of seven, counting Josh, was heading at top speed, 50 mph, with no lights, towards the intercept point with the power boat.

  The squad leader shouted, “Contact in 20 seconds. Guns ready!” Josh could hear the power boat. It was to their front and to the right. A man was standing, crouched in the passenger seat, bracing himself, firing a machine gun at them. Bullets thudded against the side of their boat. Several whizzed right over Josh’s head. Josh was ducking down as far as he could go. The Defender returned fire, raking the side of the power boat as it sped by. There was a splash as the man firing the machine gun dropped into the water.

  “Delta Two, man on board power boat in water. Retrieve man or follow power boat? Over.”

  “Delta One. Get the man. You’re overmatched by 20 mph. Radar has the power boat going 70 mph. You’ll never catch him. Over.”

  The Defender came to an abrupt stop. Two of the Coast Guard team had stripped off their bullet proof vests and boots, re-donned their life jackets and jumped into the water by the body. They hauled him into the boat by the rear platform. The body showed no signs of movement. The medic for the Defender team checked vital signs. Nothing. They all saw the numerous bullet holes in his torso. “Delta Two. Have recovered body. Dead. Multiple gunshots wounds. Should I bring body back to base or rendezvous with RHIB to bring body to shore? Over.”

  “Delta One. Hold on. Cain report. Is it safe to bring the body ashore? Over.”

  “Cain. It is. Beta back-up has arrived. Everything is under control. Ambulance is on its way. One of the perps was shot in the arm. Probably from the power boat. Four suspects in custody. Drugs seized. Looks like Mexican black tar heroin. Will send RHIB outside the breakers to pick up the body for transport to hospital. Over.”

  “Delta One. Delta Two will be on its way to meet RHIB. Over.”

  Nick saw the crew of the RHIB unload the dead body onto the beach. He went over to look at him. Nick had seen him before—the narrow face, the nose and jaw that jutted out. He looked like his nickname, Jackal or Chacal in Spanish. It was Sergio Bustamante. The enforcer that Felicia had seen many times at Luis’ compound and who was with Luis in Yaak, Montana, for the first known border delivery. Nick smiled to himself. He was too tired to yell out. The adrenaline rush had left him exhausted. All he could think, We’ve got you Luis, you son-of-a-bitch!

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Ana, it’s great having you back with us,” said Jerry.

  “You don’t know how great it is for me to be back. I was going stir crazy and about ready to strangle my physical therapist. It seems like four months from the shooting, not four weeks.”

  “You’re getting around pretty well. I hardly notice a limp.”

  “Swimming each morning really helps. It loosens my leg up and strengthens it at the same time.”

  Rona came up to them. “I like having some feminine energy around. Too much free range testosterone around here when you were gone. Speaking of testosterone, Nick wants you both in his office. He wants to update Ana about the case.”

  “Ana, an official welcome back. Jerry has been working long hours trying to tie your shooter and the Carlsbad beach drug smuggling to the Familia. Tell her what you’ve got Jerry.”

  “The two gang-bangers that Alan told about Felicia coming home have been a dead end. We talked to them. They admit to having a conversation with Alan about Felicia, but nothing more. Just so-called friendly joking around with someone in the neighborhood. I don’t believe them for a second, but we don’t have any leverage on them. However, we’ve made some progress on the Ducati motorcycle. Deputy Marshal Perkins spoke to Felicia about whether she had ever seen a red Ducati around Luis’ compound. She had—it was one of Luis’ many high speed toys. She even went riding with him one time. Scared her to death—taking fast corners and leaning way over. Other people in the compound used to drive it. Luis was surprisingly generous with his play things. We don’t think Luis was the driver for the shooting. He wouldn’t be that stupid to get so directly involved and the general description of the driver is of a younger man. But you never know, Luis is a classic adrenalin junky.”

  Nick said, “Tell her about the power boat that exchanged fire with the Coast Guard.”

  “The Defender Response boat that exchanged fire with the suspects’ power boat had a night camera on its bow. It showed the boat to be a 22 foot Donzi Classic. The Donzi has an open cockpit, with an engine that generates over 400 horsepower. It has a deep V hull for crashing through waves and a top speed of 75 miles per hour. We also asked Felicia about the boat. She remembers the Donzi well. It was Luis’ pride and joy. She went out with him a number of times. She described where he kept it at Rosarito Beach. It was moored in a locked, covered dock. Pepe called in a couple of favors. He went along as an observer with a Baja Norte State Police Officer he trusts and has worked with in the past. They went on a ‘safety inspection’ of the portion of Rosarito Beach dock that has Luis’ enclosed boat shed. They entered the secured premises and took photos. The boat has bullet holes which are consistent with the ammunition fired by the U.S. Coast Guard. The Donzi was otherwise spotless. It looked like it had been thoroughly cleaned. Felicia recognized a photo of the boat as the one Luis has. When she was riding around in it, the Donzi didn’t have any bullet holes.”

  “Tell her about the black tar heroin.”

  “Hold your horses Nick, I was saving the best for last. The drug lab has been doing fantastic work on the black tar heroin. Forty kilos of black tar heroin were seized that night on Ponto Beach. The mineral make-up of the Carlsbad heroin was compared to the mineral make-up of the heroin seized in Montana and the twenty kilos of heroin seized by Encinitas PD seven weeks ago. The Encinitas seizure was just a few miles south of the Carlsbad seizure. For you wine connoisseurs, I’m sure you know that a wine can be analyzed for its exact nutrient and mineral composition. A wine’s composition can be traced to a particular region where the grape vines are grown. The land of each region has a unique nutrient and mineral composition, which gives the wine a specific flavor. It’s the same for poppies, the source plant for heroin. The three seizures had the same nutrient and mineral composition. The poppies
for the heroin came from a region of the coastal mountains of the state of Jalisco. It’s about a 10 mile stretch of land, controlled by the Baja Norte Familia. I’ve spoken to a DEA expert who has worked with Mexican authorities in a joint interdiction, poppy destruction crusade in that area. He can testify to the Familia’s control of that area.”

  Nick added, “Ana, we’re in pretty good shape with tying the drugs to the cartel. Now, we need to work on the simultaneous execution of search warrants. Early next week, we’ll have a video conference call to brief the warrant teams in Salt Lake City, Vancouver, and Missoula. We have to serve the warrants at the same time so that one part of the organization won’t have advance warning and tip off the rest of the organization. There are eight locations—warehouses in Vancouver, Missoula, and Salt Lake City, college boy’s residence in Missoula, accountant Sendow’s residence and office in the San Diego area, Luis’ condo in Coronado, and the ranch-warehouse in Otay Mesa that Felicia identified. Mario and Pepe have been working on getting the affidavits in support of the warrants together. They’re almost finished. I’ll let you know the exact time for the briefing. The entire team will be there.” Ana and Jerry took that as a hint to leave and left Nick alone with his thoughts.

  The search warrants briefing went well. It was decided that each team would be staffed by a combination of local, state and federal law enforcement. Law enforcement would wear bullet proof vests and helmets. The warrants would be executed at 7:00 a.m., Pacific Standard Time. Each team would have a satellite phone connection with the overall command center in San Diego.

  The Royal Mounties would follow the same protocol for the Vancouver warehouse and have a corresponding satellite phone. It was agreed that only persons who are in possession, or in constructive possession, of drugs would be arrested. Suspects at the residential or office locations, like accountant Sendow, would not be arrested. In Sendow’s case, the task force was hoping to turn him after the execution of the search warrants. The morning for the execution of the search warrants, three days from the briefing, was chosen because surveillance and southwest border vehicle crossing records show that drug shipments would likely arrive at the Missoula and Otay Mesa warehouses the evening before.