The Harvesters: A Detective Devora Lobos Novel

by William J Manning

  Shit, this is some top-shelf bourbon. Better than the cheap shit I buy back home.

  “Radomir’s time is running out. Soon he will be dead or in prison. I tried to be diplomatic with him, become business partners, but he spat in my face and uttered a racial slur at me; the man has no morals or business acumen. Miami is about to be under new management.”

  I take another sip and clear my throat. “Yeah, a mobster with no moral dilemmas, who would’ve thought?”

  “Yes, well, you do not buck an enemy more powerful than you. It makes you look weak or stupid. In his case, both.”

  “Or he has something up his sleeve that’s made him confident.”

  She laughs. “No, when you are confident in the face of your enemy, you do not resort to childish tantrums such as this. He is losing the war with the bikers, and your people are pushing him over the edge. FBI and the Coast Guard raided one of his ships thanks to an anonymous tip from yours truly.” She raises her glass to her lips and smirks. “Radomir chummed the waters the minute he killed that DEA agent.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Why would Radomir be so reckless to kill a DEA agent and then leave the body where it’s easily found?”

  She finishes her drink and snickers. “Because he didn’t kill the DEA agent.”

  “You?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you admit to killing a fellow agent? Why should I help you?”

  “Because we both know you are more interested in Radomir and stopping the Harvesters than settling some vendetta against me.” She tosses pics on the table. It’s pictures of my dad, mom, Izzy, and Greg. “Besides, I have come to cash in on the favor you owe me. The favor I paid you for not blowing your cover to Juan Vargas.”

  Shit… I knew this would come back to haunt me. I tried to forget my undercover days, but that doesn’t seem to be happening.

  I launch toward her, but an arm wraps around my neck, forcing me back down in the chair. “Hurt any of them, and I will burn your goddamn world down!” I growl, fighting to breathe.

  She leans forward, raising both her palms, beaming a gentle smile. “Estar tranquila. Calm down. Shh. It’s an insurance policy to ensure you stay out of my way when we finally move in to kill Radomir, and you won’t seek vengeance on me for your brother.” She snaps her fingers. “Let her go, Ramone. Honor the favor you owe me and focus on the Harvesters and let me have Radomir or start planning their funerals. Simple debt to repay, no?”

  “What’s stopping you from shooting me in the back of the head after it’s all done?”

  “Agent Lobos, you saved Mateo’s life; I don’t forget that sort of thing.”

  “So why all the threats?”

  “As I said, it’s insurance policy to keep your sense of justice from impeding doing what’s right. And what’s right is you stop the Harvesters and leave Radomir to me. A small price to pay for me not burning you back in Juarez, no?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “I understand your anger, but please don’t be stupid because I really don’t want to kill the woman who saved my son or her family and friends or her delightful-looking boy toy.”

  Son? What the hell?

  “Your son?”

  “Yes. Mateo is my son. I gave birth to him when I was sixteen.”

  “Where’s the father?”

  “My rapist, you mean? When I rose to power, I found him and had him skinned alive. Taught him why child molestation is wrong. I forced his wife to watch me skin him alive.”

  I feel for her. Such a horrible thing to go through, but I’m afraid to ask what happened to his wife.

  “I slit his wife’s throat because she was trying to cover it up. He had children, but I let them live, but not before I told them what horrible monsters their mommy and daddy were.” She exhales. “I was just a girl on the street trying to survive, and a man comes along to promise me food, and instead he rapes me and throws me in an alleyway lifeless.”

  This was a common occurrence of street kids, especially little girls who are starving to death. Really makes it easy for kiddy rapists. Frankly, I’m not shedding a tear for his death. Kudos to her. But she’s still a drug queen, and I need to watch my back around her because even though I saved her son’s life, I’m still wary of her.

  “Now, enough of my sob story, let’s get down to business. I want you to focus your investigation on Radomir’s surgeons, arrest them, kill them; I don’t care, but Radomir is mine. Simple enough, no?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Mateo, take her back to her hotel and give her guns back. Remember, Agent Lobos. Do not get any moral dilemmas about this or.” She taps her finger on the photos.

  I glower at her. “I got it.”

  “Good, I will be watching.” she slides the phone over to me. “It’s encrypted, so your Fed’s can’t link into the call.”

  I take the phone off the table and finish my drink. “Encrypted cell? That is a bit high tech for you guys, ain’t it?”

  “One must evolve with this digital age we are living in. Now, as much as I enjoy drinks with you, you must get to work.”

  I follow Mateo back to the car, and he opens the door for me. I climb into the Sedan, and he shuts the door, and we head back to Miami. “You never told me she’s your mother.”

  “Didn’t think it was relevant.”

  “Hey, I saved you from getting sliced up by that maniac Drake. The least you could do is keep me informed.”

  He glances in the rearview. “If I had told you she was my mother, would you have still agreed to meet her?”

  “Probably not. But there was no need to threaten my family and friends like that.”

  “Devora, she’s just covering her own ass. Yes, you saved my life, but you are still DEA.”

  “I hope so. But I can’t help to think once I rid Miami of the Harvesters, she won’t need me anymore.”

  “No. My mother is a woman of her word. You and yours are safe as long as you don’t screw her over.”

  “She’s your mother, so forgive me if that doesn’t reassure me of her honor.”

  “Fair point. You will just have to see for yourself.”

  I stare at him with suspicion. “I guess I will.”

  I didn’t like the idea of being strong-armed by a drug queen, but what choice did I have? I can’t let my loved ones die. Besides, this case is heading nowhere fast, thanks to my brother’s insatiable greed and stupidity. Maybe Gabriella could be useful to me.

  Chapter 16

  Mateo dropped me off at the hotel, and I head up the steps and unlock the door to my hotel room with a beach view this time. I guess my other room getting turned into a slaughterhouse wasn’t all bad.

  I sit on the edge of the bed and check my texts. Ingrid sent me a picture of Isis asleep on her coffee table.

  That cat can sleep in some weird places, I swear.

  I scroll down and find a text from Greg.

  Devora, I hope you are okay. I miss you, and I am sorry I went off on you, but what you did was a dick move to me, but it’s probably for the best if this is who you really are. Man, my friends were right all long about you. You’re just a player who uses men to get what she wants. Goodbye, I’ve moved on. May you find the peace you seek in this world.

  Water builds on the edge of my eyes, I feel like shit for what I did to him, but he deserves better than me. I delete the text. I can’t dwell on that shit right now.

  I take off my shoes and head to the shower to wash off the sweat from the humidity. Staring at the water swirling down the drain, and out of nowhere, sadness for my brother gut punches me. I rest my head against the wall, sobbing and gasping as I slam my fist against the wall. “Goddamn you, Raul! Goddamn, you for doing this to me, you selfish fucking asshole.” I turn my back against the wall and crane my neck, gazing at the stream of water hitting my face.

  I must suck it up. A lot of innocent people need me to stop these psychopaths.

  I step out of the shower and dry off with the thick fl
uffy white towel from the linen closet.

  I need to some sleep

  I slip on a pair of shorts and a tank top and crawl under the covers and drift off to sleep.

  Raul joins us at the table for the Christmas dinner. He slices off a piece of ham and hands it to Dad and mom and me and my sister. He raises a glass of red wine. “A toast to my sister who graduated made it out of boot camp. I gotta be honest, mi amiga, I thought you were gonna puss out and call daddy to come save you.”

  “Well, Devora. I am proud of you, but I just wish you had found a career that wasn’t so dangerous. I mean, a soldier is not a fitting career for a lady,” my mom says.

  Father rolls his eyes as he takes a bit of ham. “Dear, don’t start this again. It’s Christmas. Let’s all enjoy dinner so Devora can have a good Christmas before she ships off back to the Army.”

  She glares at him. “Yes, let’s all celebrate our daughter going off to get herself killed or her limbs blown off.”

  “Hey, mamá, Devora, just going to be an MP. The worst thing she’ll be doing is rounding up soldiers drunk at bars.”

  “I just don’t understand why you couldn’t go to medical school like your sister, Devora. It’s safer, and there is more money in it.”

  My sister scoffs. “Mamá, not everyone is cut out for the medical field. Give it a rest.”

  My brother sits down next to me and passes the Yucca. My father takes a sip of his whiskey. “Devora, despite what your mother says, we’re all very proud of you. You know, with a Military Police background in the Army, you could pretty much get into any Law Enforcement agency you wish.” He smiles at me.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Salvatore Lobos, Don’t you encourage her to be like you.”

  Mom always called him Salvatore when she is pissed, but other times his name was Sal.

  My brother and dad smile at me and raise a toast. “To Devora, the woman who killed us.”

  My eyes widen. “What?”

  “I was there for you when you were overdosing, hermana. Is this the thanks I get? You let them kill me?”

  Masked figures storm into the dining room and raise AK’s and hose my family. Blood sprays my face, muddying my vision with a cloak of red. “No!” I cry. I turn and a figure pulls their mask off, and it’s me. My doppelganger presses the gun to my head. The gunshot jolts me awake. Touching my face frantically to see if I’m still soaked in blood, but I’m not just drenched in sweat. I glance at my phone, and it’s 7:00am. I head over to the sink, soak a rag in cold water, lay on the bed, and place the cold cloth over my face.

  I’ve got to do what she says, or she’ll kill them all. Just do what she says, Devora, and then leave town as fast as you can, and your family will be safe.

  My cell rings, and I roll my eyes in frustration. “Hello?”

  “Lobos, you okay?”

  “Yeah, Roth. I’m fine.”

  “What happened? Did they give you anything we can use?”

  “They told me to focus on the surgeon and to leave Radomir to them. Same deal as the Biker gave us.”

  “Is the bikers working with Gabriella?”

  “Yes. Which I’m not shocked Gabriella benefits by them taking Radomir out of the picture.”

  “So what do we do about the gang war?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What? So we just let people slaughter each other?”

  “You’re damn right. Let the scumbags kill each other. The Harvesters are our primary concern anyway, remember?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “But nothing. Listen, if you care about your wife, you will hear me when I say let ’em fucking kill each other.”

  “What did they say to you, Lobos? Did they threaten you or have some kind of leverage over you?”

  “Let it go, Deputy! It’s not our fucking problem. Let the FBI deal with all the gang war shit. Our only focus is stopping the Harvesters. We let the bikers and Gabriella have Radomir.”

  “So you want me to be an accessory to murder?”

  “Don’t get all idealistic on me, Roth. You’ll just end up killing everyone you care about.”

  “I’ll be a son of a bitch! They got to you. What’d they do? Threaten a boyfriend back home, your family?” her voice raises an octave.

  “All the above, actually. My family lives in this town; Gabriella threw out pictures of all of them, which is why you will not become little Miss Deputy Do Right!”

  “That is a tough call for me. I took an oath with this here badge.”

  “If you don’t have the stomach for this anymore, go back to Mayberry.”

  “Shit, no! I’m in this all the way. This is just unorthodox is all, Lobos.”

  “Good. Because things are about to get a hell of a lot more unorthodox. Now get dressed; we’re going to go stake out that surgeon, see if we can catch him in the act.”

  “I’m already dressed. I never went to sleep last night. This case has kept me awake all night pouring over the old case files to see if I missed anything.”

  “And did you?”

  “After paring the additional information I got from you, yeah. It explains why my case was shut down. Radomir employs the Harvesters, and Radomir has deep pockets within Miami PD and local politicians. Well, he had politicians; your brother killed Mayor Timmons.”

  I let out a sigh. “Yeah. I’ll meet you here.”

  “Be there soon.”

  Time to get dressed.

  I slip on my black jeans and dark red button-down along with my OD Green field jacket. My cell rings. It’s Tanner. “Go ahead, sir,” I answer.

  “Agent Lobos, where the hell have you been? You ghosted me for a bit.”

  “This case has gotten real interesting. I just had drinks with Gabriella down in the Keys.”

  “Gabriella the Drug queen pin? The same one who helped us shut down the Vargas Cartel?”

  “The same.”

  “Shit. This complicates our investigation on Radomir.”

  “She’s moving on Radomir’s turf. My advice: let her have Radomir. Less of a headache.”

  “We cannot let a mob war erupt on the streets of Miami, Lobos.”

  “This all sounds like the FBI’s problems.”

  “Lobos, we have to stop this.”

  “Stop this? I don’t have to do shit, but stop the Harvesters.”

  He gives a brief pause. “Lobos, did Gabriella threaten you or your family?”

  “Leave it alone.”

  “If they threatened your family, I can put them in protective custody.”

  Protective custody will protect my family like a cat protects a mouse. The cartel will get to them. It’s safer to do what Gabriella wants.

  “Sorry. I gotta go.” I hang up on him and place my head in my hands.

  Raul saved me, but I failed to save him.

  ***

  There’s a knock at the door. That must be Roth. I peer through the peephole, and it’s her holding a Styrofoam tray of coffee. I open the door.

  “You ready?”

  “Yeah,” I say, closing the door behind me.

  Chapter 17

  I take a sip of my coffee, and she got my coffee the way I like it, black with no sugar. She drops a brown paper bag in my lap. “I gotcha a cinnamon bagel if you are hungry. If not, I’ll eat it.”

  “I appreciate it.” I take a bite of the bagel, and it’s still good and hot.

  By the time I finish my bagel, we reach the clinic parking lot where the surgeon works. I clock the same vehicle I followed last time—same make and number. I take a sip of my coffee, and there’s a pop, and the window explodes, sending blood spraying my face. There’s a gaping hole in Roth’s head.

  Fuck!

  The shooter aims a Saturday night special at me. I dive out the passenger door as bullets hammer the interior of the car. I draw my service weapon and fire blindly through the car door. He replies with two more shots, and I hear a click. I raise up to shoot, but his buddy riding bitch on the sports
bike levels an AKSU at me.

  Shit! The asshole has Artillery.

  I duck back down behind the engine block. Bullets rake the car blowing out the windshield shredding the front tires. Police sirens wail in the distance. “Fuck!” he screams in a Russian accent.

  I drop to a prone position and fire off a round, blowing out his Achilles tendon. The gunman collapses to the ground face first. His getaway driver panics and leaves him in his dust. I stand up with my gun trained on him. “Throw the gun away and hands behind your back, asshole!”

  He rolls over with his nose pouring blood. “Suka!” He raises the weapon. My Sig barks off a volley of lead scything through his chest, and one stray round pops his eyeball, slinging his brains across the pavement.

  When a hitman levels an automatic at you, you best make damn sure your first shot is a kill shot, but to be safe, I gave him half the mag; all it takes is one squeeze, and that AK will eviscerate you at close range. I slap a fresh magazine into my Sig and rack the slide in case his buddy comes back for another pass. I rush over to the car and check out Roth. Her chest was basically exploded along with several dime-sized holes in her temple and cheek.

  I was goddamn lucky here. That amount of lead ripping through the car, I should be dead, but Roth she took it all… shit.

  Six police cruisers pull into the parking lot along with an unmarked SUV with flashing lights. Tanner and several other agents exit the truck and head toward the crime scene. Uniforms rope off the street, setting up a perimeter. Tanner studies the scene with horror in his eyes, and he shifts his gaze to me with concern on his face. “You, okay?”

  I light up a cigarette and take a drag. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I turn to the car. “Poor woman didn’t stand a chance.”

  “Most people don’t with that level of firepower. Hell, you got lucky in that coffin on wheels.”

  I shake my head, exhaling smoke. “I think I got made tailing the doctor the first time, and he called the Russians, and they sent their hitters. Have someone run ID on the shooter and get back to me.”

  He nods. “Will do. Listen, if you believe the doctor made you, then this hit was meant for you too, and so I must insist on protective custody for your family and friends.”