Athena showed them the barn, and they pronounced it satisfactory. They’d stowed their gear, erected a couple of tents, and returned to the house.
Athena suggested they share meals with her and Beau, but Lance said, “Thanks for the offer, but we prefer to stay at our control center or patrol the property. We’ll only come to the house and invade your privacy if we spot trouble.”
He gave Athena and Beau each a communications device that looked like an old Blackberry with a screen on top and a thumb-style keyboard below.
“This sends secure texts,” Lance said, “and it connects to the wireless network we’ve established in our main tent. The main advantage is that this system will work even if someone cuts the power to the property.”
It seemed like these guys were taking all the necessary precautions. That made her heart glow. She was happy to pay for too much protection for a change. “Lance, thanks so much for taking care of us.”
-o-o-o-
At five p.m., Athena turned on the TV and found Cici live on CNN. She stood on the western steps of the state capitol. A sea of followers spread out in front of her and filled the park that stretched from the Colorado Capitol to Denver’s City Hall, four blocks away. The fire marshal estimated the crowd at thirty-eight thousand.
Athena expected Cici to act triumphant, but her face was calm and her voice quiet. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances. You’re here because you know the criminal justice system treats some people much better than others. It’s time for that to change. Let’s go tell the judge!”
CNN switched to a helicopter view that gave Athena a much better perspective on the size of the crowd. All of the nearby streets were jammed with people. They resembled an ant Army as they flowed as one giant glob toward the northwest.
Leo began to fuss. Not much should happen until Cici reached the courthouse, so Athena nursed her son and changed his diaper. Then, she grabbed a bag of beef jerky for a snack. Herman was sending a shipment of better food, but it hadn’t arrived yet.
Athena and Leo returned to the family room. Beau sat before the TV. Athena sat beside him and explained what Cici had said earlier.
Then a different issue came to mind. “What kind of reaction did you get to the Vicksburg Plan?”
“So far, so good, chère. It’s not that the idea is particularly good, but we’ve got no better options. It’ll take a while to get all the necessary approvals.”
Typical bureaucratic doublespeak. “Remind everybody you’re working with to be discrete about who they talk to. Somebody inside DOJ, in either Denver or Main Justice in DC, ratted out Roger. This plan won’t work if the cartel hears about it in time to stockpile food and water.”
“I know, but we’ll need dozens of Federal officers to help with the siege. That means we need lots of buy-ins.”
That didn’t bode well, but starving the cartel out was the only approach that made sense. Even more important, Carlotta was probably the only person who could call off the Viper. If the Feds didn’t capture her alive, Fernando would make sure the assassin eventually caught up with Athena, Leo, and Beau. Nobody could hide forever these days.
-o-o-o-
Denver County Jail
Viola was entranced as the crowd downtown swarmed toward the Federal courthouse. Suddenly, two sheriff’s deputies appeared in front of her.
“Viola Hawkins?” one asked.
Her stomach sank. She nodded.
“We’ve got orders to take you.”
“Really? I just saw an aerial shot of the courthouse. The area is packed. There’s no way you can get me there.”
The other deputy motioned with his hand for her to stand up. “Just get up, please.”
Not having much choice, she did.
-o-o-o-
The deputy driving the squad car that contained Viola used his lights and siren the whole way downtown. They ended up at the sheriff department’s headquarters near City Hall. By the time they arrived, the crowd had thinned out there, making the streets passable again.
The deputies took her to a small conference room where Alexander was waiting.
They left her alone with her lawyer. She could still see them through a window, standing in the hallway, so it wasn’t like she could simply bolt.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I believe,” Alexander said, “we’ll soon be negotiating the terms of the government’s surrender. I was told to wait here for a call from the US Attorney. He and the judge are furious, so please let me do the talking. Be aware, this could easily go sideways. I might end up in jail with you tonight, girl.”
“Did you help Cici pull this demonstration off?”
“Nope. But I didn’t talk her out of it, either. I’m sure the judge would love to lock her up, but no chance of that. Not while she’s surrounded by tens of thousands of her fans in this part of the world.”
They chatted until the phone in the conference room rang. Alexander turned on the speaker.
“You there, Lamont?” The judge’s high-pitched voice was sharp and clipped. Definitely pissed.
“Yes sir, Your Honor. My client, too.”
“I ought to hold you both in contempt of court. You should’ve warned me that this would happen.”
“I had no idea, judge. Ms. Brodie didn’t say a word to me about what she planned to do.”
Judge Hoover grumbled for a minute before saying, “We’ll get to the truth about that later. You better believe we will. Right now, though, I’ve got the US Attorney here with me. We need to work something out to make sure nobody gets hurt.”
Viola didn’t spend years in law school, but it was obvious what the right legal solution was—just let her go. When she jotted that down on a notepad, Alexander grinned and nodded.
Still, it took half an hour for Judge Hoover and Riddle to reach the same conclusion. They wasted most of that time posturing about truth, justice, and a judge’s dignity.
Finally, Judge Hoover said, “Here’s what we’re going to do. In return for Ms. Hawkins paying a ten thousand dollar fine for contempt of court, I will release her on her own recognizance.”
Viola nearly had a cerebral hemorrhage. “Ten thousand dollars?” she blurted. “That’s ridiculous. I haven’t got—”
Alexander put a finger to her lips and said to the judge, “Would you excuse us for a moment, Your Honor? I need to confer with my impecunious client.”
The Greatest hit the mute button. “Relax. Cici will pay it, and you’ll only owe her your firstborn.”
His smile told Viola that he was joking about the kid part.
“We’ve got to give everybody a graceful out,” Alexander said. “The longer this goes on, the more likely someone’s going to get hurt out there. I know you don’t want that.”
“I understand, but I don’t want a criminal record, either.”
“Don’t worry,” Alexander said, “this is a civil matter, not criminal. Like a traffic ticket, just with a big fine. And I expect I can knock the number down. That’ll help out Cici’s pocketbook.”
Viola’s life had already gone so far off the rails that she didn’t know what to do. “I’m counting on you to fix this. I’m totally lost in this legal mumbo-jumbo world.”
“They don’t call me the Greatest for nothing.”
Viola took a deep breath and nodded.
Alexander unmuted the line and haggled with Hoover and Riddle for another ten minutes before they settled on a fine of $6,500.
“Just in time, Your Honor,” Alexander said. “My news app shows the blonde barbarian just arriving on the steps of the courthouse.”
“Handle this damned quick,” the judge said. “If anybody gets hurt, our deal is off.”
“Right, thank you, sir.” Alexander hung up and called Cici on his cell. After a quick hello, he said, “Judge Hoover is going to release Viola, but it’ll cost you sixty-five hundred bucks. He’s one furious hombre, let me
tell you. You do not want to meet him in a dark alley somewhere.”
Cici laughed so loudly that Alexander moved his phone’s earpiece away. She said, “I knew you’d pull it off, handsome. Take our freed captive to the suite at the Four Seasons. I’ll meet you there as soon as I thank my peeps for turning out and solving their ridiculous problem.”
Chapter 24
Casa Santiago
Carlotta had spent the day talking to her new minions, either on the phone or in person. As she did, she’d collected over thirty hostages, so many that she was having trouble figuring out where to put them. Luckily, most were men or older boys. That meant they were Pablo’s problem. The females would have to share beds with existing house staff. Carlotta had ordered cots, but they wouldn’t be delivered until tomorrow.
By seven p.m., she was exhausted. Empire building isn’t for the feeble.
Her phone beeped with an encrypted text. The author was Donald Martin, the senior DOJ manager Fernando had compromised the year before. Martin had turned out to be worth his weight in cocaine, though he preferred his payments in gold, lots of it.
His message read: DOJ and DEA are about to surround your Colorado headquarters. They want to seal you in and starve you out. Leave immediately.
A blast of adrenaline numbed her tongue and jaw. Were the Feds crazy? She’d seen their drones spying overhead after the battle with the other cartels. That attack had been suicidal. The G-men knew how well protected this casa was.
Carlotta reread the message. Sealing them in, not attacking?
That was actually more of a problem. How long could her people hold out under those conditions? They’d just received a new delivery of groceries. And because so many of the fighters had been sent away to take over her various new businesses, the staff left at the casa, and the hostages would have plenty of food.
What about water? A chill ran down Carlotta’s spine. She entered her private bathroom and turned on the faucet. The water flowed, but weakly. The Feds might’ve already cut off their supply.
No time to waste. She sent an encrypted text to Pablo. The Feds are trying to surround us and force a surrender. We need to go immediately. Bring the delivery truck and all of your remaining fighters to my office.
Her nephew wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knew how to follow orders. His reply was immediate. ¡Mierda! On the way.
They’d have to take the computers and paper files, or they’d be leaving behind a trove of evidence. ¡Mierda! indeed.
When Pablo and his men arrived, Carlotta pointed out what they needed to haul to the truck. The file cabinets were too heavy to move, but they took the drawers out and carried them one at a time. Then, they took the empty cabinet to the truck so they could reassemble it later.
Within fifteen minutes, they’d grabbed everything that might incriminate the family. Pablo would drive the truck. The rest of his men would ride in the back. Carlotta would follow him in her white Mercedes sedan. Damned if she was going to let the Feds impound her beautiful car.
The only other person that Carlotta had mentioned the problem to was her assistant, Isabella. Carlotta couldn’t afford to leave her behind to be pressured by the FBI.
No time left. The jefa ordered her assistant to grab Jasmine. That favoritism would certainly anger the rest of her staff—when they found out later—but Carlotta wasn’t going to live without the sweet, innocent beauty.
They drove away leaving the gate unguarded. Carlotta made sure to stay close behind the truck. No cops tried to stop them.
But when they reached the main highway and merged into the traffic heading north, Carlotta looked up ahead. And gasped.
A stream of cop cars with flashing lights approached in the opposite lanes. They exited the highway at the same exit she and Pablo had used. She’d escaped in the nick of time.
Pablo led them north to Interstate 70. From there, they’d travel west towards a large, private ranch the family owned in the mountains near Vail. From there, they could continue their business operations, hopefully without missing a beat.
-o-o-o-
Denver County Sheriff’s Office
Alexander and Viola reached the Four Seasons Hotel in a limo. The armed driver handed the keys to a valet and followed his passengers into the lobby. Alexander took them straight to a bar instead of going upstairs. He ordered three shots of some tequila Viola had never heard of. Viola ordered a glass of the house white.
Small talk wasn’t Viola’s thing, but she had to be nice to the guy who’d just busted her out of jail. Her chair faced the entrance, and she kept her eyes peeled for Cici. The woman literally oozed country charm. Viola didn’t know how she could possibly thank her.
But before Cici arrived, three Hispanic guys strode into the bar. She recognized the type but not the men—predators.
They looked around then headed straight for Viola.
“Alexander,” she said as she stood. “Big trouble.”
He glanced the way she was looking and stood, too. Moved in front of her, as though he could protect her. Their limo driver pulled a pistol from under his jacket.
So did the three men.
Alexander grabbed Viola. “Run!” They bolted back further into the bar for the connected restaurant. Gunshots rang out behind them. People screamed.
Two stout men with crew cuts ran toward them. One asked, “What’s going on?”
Viola waved behind her. “Three guys with guns are after me!”
The stout guys pulled pistols out of shoulder harnesses and ran toward the trouble. They had to be cops.
More gunshots. Panicked customers and wait staff crowded into the back of the restaurant. But there was no exit in that direction. They were trapped.
More people crammed into the restaurant, screaming as they came. Some were covered with blood. Viola and Alexander vetted their way into the kitchen. His head stuck up above everybody else.
She pulled on his jacket sleeve. “Bend down so they can’t see you.”
They both crouched next to the ovens, and he called somebody on his phone. “Three men with guns attacked the bar at the Four Seasons.” Then he stopped talking. After a few seconds, he hung up. “The cops know. Help is on the way.”
But Viola’s short and horrible experience with drug thugs told her that help never arrived in time.
The pandemonium continued, but the gunfire stayed far away. Viola and Alexander were trapped with at least fifty people jammed into the kitchen. There was nothing they could do but wait.
-o-o-o-
Viola spotted a dirty paring knife on the floor and grabbed it. She wasn’t going back to Carlotta without a fight this time.
Moments later, men and women called out, “Police! Everybody remain where you are! The danger is over.”
Viola let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her legs trembled and gave way, so she sat on the kitchen floor next to kneeling Alexander. Her voice cracked as she said, “This shit never seems to end. All I want to do is set up a quiet little church for Santa Muerte and help people with their troubles. How can I do that without an army of guards to protect me?”
“I’m telling you,” he replied in his calm voice, “come to LA. You’ll be a star. With celebrity comes money. You’ll earn more than enough to afford great security.”
Maybe he was right if that was what it took to be safe. “I’ll think about it.”
“Did you recognize any of those guys?” he asked.
“No, but I know the type. They work for Carlotta or some other cartel. That lying bitch promised to leave me alone if I kept my mouth shut.”
Alexander shook his head. “That’s terrible. When you can’t trust your demonic bitch drug overlord, who can you trust?”
“Not funny,” she snapped back. “We could’ve both been killed.”
He helped her stand. “Sorry, but it occurs to me that you’re stuck in the same situation as before. If y
ou talk to the Feds, the Santiagos will do everything possible to shut you up before any trial. And even if you stay quiet and set up your church, they’ll keep trying to grab you. Your only option, for the time being, is to stay quiet and hide from everybody.”
Viola pondered his comment as they waited in the kitchen for the next chapter in her life to begin.
-o-o-o-
Once several cops entered the crowded kitchen, they began interviewing people. Not again.
Viola was in no hurry to endure more questions, but this time, she had her trusty overpriced lawyer at her side.
Finally, one of the crew cut guys from earlier walked up to Viola. “You two must be Hawkins and Lamont. The word is, you’ve both been a real pain in the ass today.”
When they shrugged, the guy said, “I’m Rick Pilgrim, a Denver police detective. You’re one lucky lady, Viola. My buddy Jack and I work part-time as security for the hotel. Unfortunately, we couldn’t save everybody. Those cartel thugs cut down the man guarding you. He shot one of them, though. God bless him. That evened the odds for Jack and me. We killed a second dog, and the last one is on his way to the ER with two bullets in his chest. So, the question is why were they after you?”
Alexander said, “She can’t say much, but I’ll tell you one thing. She never wanted any dealings with the cartel. They forced her to do whatever she’s done. As for tonight, your guess about why they came after her is as good as ours. Unfortunately, if Viola spills her guts, that will only make her situation worse. That’s all she has to say.”
Detective Pilgrim wasn’t the shy and retiring type, and he kept firing questions. Viola described her personal background, but Alexander wouldn’t let her say a word about the cartel or her time with them.
Eventually, Pilgrim stood. “You two, stick around. Brighter bulbs than me will have to figure out what to do with you.”
Alexander checked his messages. “Four from Cici. Not surprisingly, they won’t let anybody into the hotel.”
He called her and summarized what’d happened. That took a while, and Viola’s mind began to shut down. The fog thickened, and she was about to pass out, a full circuit overload. Crazy images from her latest trip through hell flashing through her mind.
Anointed (Vanished Book 3) Page 17