A Sense of Justice

by Jack Davis

  “I’ll do anything, pay any amount of money. Please, don’t let them take her to jail. I have never begged for anything in my life, but I am begging you.”

  “I’ll do what I can. As a sign of good faith, I am going to let you talk to her for just a minute. I would like you to tell her to trust me. I understand if you don’t want to do that now, but whatever you do, don’t do anything stupid.”

  To Alvaro, that simple act of kindness guaranteed his initial cooperation. Alvaro would remember it for the rest of his life and felt indebted to the agent beyond what he could ever repay.

  Alvaro heard Maria’s voice. “Varo, what’s going on? They have me in handcuffs. They are yelling at me in English. I don’t understand what they are saying. What’s happening?” She started to sob.

  “Brecita, don’t cry. Everything is going to be okay. Speak to the man who is holding the phone. He is from the United States police. He is going to help you.”

  “What about you? Where are you? You sound different. Are you okay? What is happening, Varo?”

  “Stop crying. It is going to be okay. You need to tell the man from America anything that he wants to know. Do you understand? Anything.”

  “Yes, but the other police are sometimes yelling at me; what is going on?”

  “I will explain when we see each other. For now, you need to trust the American, and only the American. Do you understand?”

  “He wants the phone back. Varo, I’m scared. Please don’t leave me alone.”

  The last line crushed Alvaro and convinced him that he would sell his soul to get his Maria back to Mexico safely. Then he heard Posada.

  “Alvaro, I believe your wife isn’t involved. I’ll do what I can to help. We have a female agent here. She’ll stay with your wife at all times. You just be ready to answer questions when I get there.”

  “I will. Please help her. Officer Posada, my wife is pregnant.”

  Alvaro trusted Posada, partly because of what he knew about US law enforcement, partly because the Americans had stood up to the men who beat him, but mostly because he had no choice.

  Later that afternoon everything had been worked out. The three prisoners were in Secret Service custody, Miguel being held in a separate section of police headquarters. Freeman was back, and Kingston and Muelens had been sent to provide statements to Internal Affairs. Order had been restored.

  Morley was anxious to get the interrogation underway. He knew that any court-appointed attorney would realize Alvaro was never going to be prosecuted for the amount of numbers he had provided, at least not in either of the NYC districts. He decided to get as much information as he could before their prisoner was advised to clam up.

  When Posada suggested letting Alvaro talk to his wife for a few minutes Morley agreed, but said any contact after that would have to be “earned.”

  When Maria saw her husband, one eye swollen shut, the other almost shut, cheeks red and puffy from bruising, she rushed to him and cupped his face with both hands. “Why did they do this to you? Why?” She sobbed.

  Alvaro talked softly, “Stop crying, I’m okay. It looks worse than I feel,” he lied. Then he had her sit down next to him and as he spoke slowly and lovingly. He told her about Miguel.

  Maria was confused. She couldn’t understand why Miguel would even be in the Bahamas until Alvaro explained the situation. He explained how her brother had approached him at the baptism. He tried to make her understand he tried to help Miguel by keeping him from the drugs and the dangerous parts of gang life. Alvaro was desperate for her to believe he was trying to do the right thing for her brother. He needed her to forgive him.

  She lifted her head and looked into the slits of her husband’s eyes. Her eyes silently pleaded with him to make things better, but he couldn’t.

  In an instant everything became clear to Alvaro Lopez for the first time since he had met Maria. He knew without a doubt he could never make things better. Not permanently. Not for Maria, or for Rosa, or for Guillermo. Not if he stayed in the gang. There would always be some police agency or rising star in the Kings trying to move up by taking him out. It might not happen right away, it could take a few years, but there would be more pleading eyes saying, make things better, make the hurt go away, or why? Worse yet, next time it might not be an agent shot in the street, it might be…he couldn’t bear the thought, it made him sick.

  This truly was an epiphany, seen now through his wife’s eyes. The only way to not go through this again was to get out—completely. He would never be the cause of this grief and anguish again. Alvaro knew what he had to do—maybe not all the steps—but the end result.

  He told Maria it would be okay and said it with a conviction born of certitude. He told her he was done with the gangs. Promising that they would move as soon as he could get this situation straightened out. Alvaro asked her to be strong for him just a little longer, for the kids. He would handle the rest.

  Maria trusted him. She smiled. “I will be strong.”

  Alvaro, still holding his wife, turned to Agent Posada. “I’m ready to talk.”

  After Maria left, three more agents, all men, and a man who was introduced as an Inspector Freeman, came into the interview room.

  As the interview started, Alvaro realized he respected these men. They could be trusted. They were clean-cut, polite, and professional. They treated him fairly and had stood up for him to the Bahamian Police. They had played by the rules and gotten the best of him. They had treated him with dignity in front of his wife and that meant a lot to him. Most importantly, they had protected Maria, even when they didn’t have to. They seemed to do it because it was the right thing to do. To a hopeless and helpless man, they represented both hope and help.

  If he were going to trust anyone, he was going to trust these men and women. He resolved to tell them everything and ask them to put him in protective custody. Before he could do that, Agent Jaime started talking to him.

  To save time Morley had divided up the tasks. He would ask the questions, Posada would translate, Murray would work the recording, and Swann would take notes.

  Based on the focus of the case—the source of the numbers—Morley started there.

  Alvaro recounted meeting Tejada in jail, then setting up and running the operation, and finally getting Miguel started with the call-sell operation in New York.

  After the basics had been nailed down, Alvaro moved onto the specifics. He explained who MichaelTAA was, and how he used World of Warcraft to transmit the numbers and personal information. The agents’ lack of familiarity with the game slowed them down, but they grasped the concepts. Later that evening, after Greere purchased the game online, what Alvaro told them made sense.

  The last line of questioning centered around the payment methods. As with everything else, Alvaro answered thoroughly and without hesitation. He explained MichaelTAA would always provide specific instructions on where and how to send the money. The method of payment varied for each group of numbers, but always bounced between e-gold, Western Union, and PayPal.

  By the time Morley completed that aspect of the questioning, they had been at it for two hours. The iced tea that Maria had brought her husband had been gone for over ninety minutes and the agents were thirsty. Posada, who had been talking for the whole time, needed a rest. They decided to use the dinner break to go over what they had and next steps.

  Maria was allowed to come back in with her husband and the two were asked what they wanted to eat.

  After the food arrived, Greere and Kruzerski were assigned to watch the prisoners, while the others met in an adjoining room. They recapped what Lopez had told them to make sure nothing had been lost in translation. Posada explained to the group that he had interviewed Maria during transportation from the hotel. He said so far, the two stories regarding her involvement and the vacation were in complete agreement. There was no indication Maria was involved.

  The team came up with a set of additional questions to clarify earlier statements, but for
the most part felt they had what they needed.

  They all knew the next step was to broach the subject of Alvaro working for them. While the team ate, Morley tried to provide Brown an update. To Morley’s great relief his boss did not answer. He left a cryptic message and called the supervisor he wanted to talk to, Kensington.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, just pretty sore,” replied Morley. “Never thought much about wearing the vests before, now I’m a believer.”

  “I would think so.”

  “Before I forget, I tried calling Tommy to give him an update, he wasn’t at his desk.”

  “No, he’s in with the SAIC taking phone calls from headquarters and lamenting how he wished he’d been there when the shooting started. He actually said, ‘I just can’t help but think there may have been something I could have done.’ I almost threw up.”

  “What a piece of cr…” Morley stopped himself.

  “Turns out you getting shot has made him a minor celebrity. It’s not every day agents get in a shoot-out in a foreign country.”

  “It wasn’t a shoot-out. That implies fire going both ways. None of our guys shot. We got shot at.”

  “Shoot-out, shot at, to HQ it’s all the same. No one down there can even find their gun, let alone bullets. So, as you can imagine the office is answering all sorts of questions in triplicate. Brown is soaking up the attention and answering every query with an earnest, ‘Thank God my agents are safe,’ preamble.”

  Morley laughed. “Before he rents out Yankee Stadium for a medal ceremony, let him know that the locals here see this as a monumental fuck-up. From their perspective the less attention this receives the better. That’s also best for the case. Can you talk to the SAIC and see if you can tamp down this fire?”

  “I’ll talk to him as soon as Brown leaves his office.”

  “Thanks.” Morley moved to the reason he’d called. “Anything from the US Attorney?”

  “AUSA Carpenter insists Alvaro be allowed to talk to the Mexican Consulate or a defense attorney as soon as he arrives. He says it’s sort of like kidnapping if we don’t.”

  “I’m not sure who I trust least between the two groups, but with the number of Latin Kings in New York, while the lawyer might shut Alvaro up temporarily, contacting the Mexican Consulate would probably shut him up permanently.”

  “I’d go with the lawyer,” Kensington agreed.

  “I’ve got one more card to play; I’ll let you know if it works next time we talk. I’ll get you a synopsis later tonight.”

  “Try to get off the island without any further incidents. I don’t think Brown could take any more attention.”

  Morley laughed.

  Posada didn’t have to translate Alvaro’s “si” when Morley presented the option of working for the Service.

  Once they had the verbal agreement, Morley launched into the particulars and what type of cooperation they expected. He explained they would set up a computer in the New York Office and Alvaro would be expected to interact with MichaelTAA as if nothing had happened.

  Morley skipped over any mention of a defense attorney for Alvaro; he had the signed Miranda Warning and the tape of the verbal agreement, and hopefully, an ace up his sleeve. Instead, he said once they had gotten enough evidence, he would speak to the US prosecutors and ask them to reduce the charges against Alvaro.

  “What about Maria?”

  “As long as she isn’t involved, she’ll be free to return to Mexico. But consider how it’ll look if Maria goes home alone, especially if you’re out of touch with the Kings.”

  Morley knew the gang issue could be difficult to manage. Alvaro being out of circulation for too long would raise questions.

  “You weren’t scheduled to be back in Mexico for a few days anyway; hopefully we’ll have what we need by then. The Service will find a hotel for Maria in New York until then.” Morley hoped that answer would placate Alvaro until he could get other issues straightened out.

  The rest of the evening was spent on logistics. Morley worked with Constable Freeman to allow the prisoners to stay at the station house instead of being put in the local prison with the general population; the fewer people who saw Alvaro in custody, the better. The AUSA worked with the minister of Justice to make sure the paperwork was ready for the next morning. Morley decided to avoid potential issues between Alvaro and Miguel by having the US Marshals Service transport the latter. The remainder of the group traveled commercially. There were no prisoners manifested on the eight a.m. United flight back through Newark, just agents.

  It was just after midnight when all the arrangements had been completed. The group took turns watching the prisoners. Two agents were there throughout the night along with two local officers. During Swann and Greere’s watch, they installed and played World of Warcraft on Greere’s laptop. They played for their entire shift to try and become more familiar with some aspects of what Alvaro had been trying to explain to them. By the time they were relieved, they had a rudimentary understanding of how the game worked and what their prisoner had been trying to tell them.

  37 | Coming to America

  Queens, New York, 10/02/09, 0950 hours

  Morley let his mind wander slightly during the flight. He was pleasantly surprised by the difference in the six agents. When they had left, there were feelings of mistrust and a palpable undercurrent of animosity. They would be physically together only when there was no other alternative. They only talked about work and that sparingly, nothing social.

  The trip seemed to have changed all that. Morley had been on or in charge of too many protective detail shifts, good and bad, to not notice the change. From their body language to the way they verbally interacted, there was cohesion in the group. They were working together, as a team. He was pleased.

  Myron Dunn was the first to greet Morley as he exited the plane. Dunn was the rarest of breeds, a defense attorney who was not in it for the fame or money. He had made enough money working for the casinos in Atlantic City as a real estate attorney in the eighties and nineties. Now he only worked on cases he considered worthwhile. He had gotten a conference call from his friends, Morley and Carpenter, the day prior asking him to take a case.

  “I’ll meet Mr. Lopez and let you know if I’ll represent him.”

  Dunn was visibly shocked to see his potential client’s bruised and battered face. “PJ, I need your assurance your agents had nothing to do with this.”

  Morley nodded. “We didn’t touch him. Make that your first question to him so you can confirm.”

  Dunn had brought along his daughter to do the translation. She was a third-year student studying international business and spoke fluent Spanish. As the agents were working themselves and Alvaro through Customs, Dunn, his daughter, Alvaro, and Maria were allowed to go into a room for a short chat. In the quick interview, Dunn got all the information he needed.

  He came out after five minutes.

  “You gotta be kidding me, PJ.”

  “What?”

  “If you put my clients up at the Waldorf, let them order room service for the entire stay, and fly them back to Mexico City first-class tomorrow, I’ll consider not prosecuting you and Chris for conspiracy to kidnap and false imprisonment. Because of our friendship, I’ll ask for leniency for you. Didn’t you ever see the movie Rendition?”

  “Easy there, Clarence Dunno. My folks are the best thing that could’ve happened to them down there. If it weren’t for my guys, your client would still be a Mexican piñata for the Bahamian Royal Police. We saved him from additional beatings and her from who knows what? They read him his rights—yes, in Spanish—and he signed the sheet stating that he knew and understood what he was doing.”

  “Coerced. He would have done anything, signed anything to protect his wife, who he felt was in mortal danger after what had happened to him.”

  Looking at Carpenter and referring to Morley he said, “I might expect this from him, but Chris, you? You know you shouldn’t be prosecu
ting this poor guy and harassing his wife, who you have no indication has done anything wrong. She should be home with her two small children.”

  Morley responded, “We’re not going to do anything with her—we felt she was in danger if she stayed in Nassau for the next three days until her flight back to Mexico. We’re also worried about what it would look like to the Latin Kings if she came back without her husband. The gang business is too dangerous to screw around with. Once again we were looking out for your client’s best interest.”

  “Myron, are you gonna work with us or not?” interrupted Carpenter.

  “It depends on if it’s in the best interest of my client. What are you looking for?”

  “Not much, we want him to work with us to identify the source of the credit card numbers and PII he’s admitted to using illegally for the past year,” said Morley.

  “In my mind he hasn’t admitted to anything. Second, cooperating without some type of formal agreement regarding his and his wife’s status? I don’t think so.”

  “We’re willing to drop all charges if he allocutes and then attempts to contact the source. We’ll take care of him and make him a CI. He won’t be exposed, and once we’ve made contact, they are free to go. If we get working on it today, we might be able to get them back to Mexico City as scheduled. We’ll put her up for the duration, or send her back tomorrow, whatever you want. We just need to have him introduce us to the source.”

  Dunn sighed. “If I can get something in writing today and get it before a judge, I think we can work something out.”

  “Great,” said Morley. “Chris has already drafted some paperwork for you to look at. He’ll work with you on that while we process Lopez. We’ve briefed Judge Nelson. He’s on board as long as you are?”

  “I think we can work something out. My client sees your agents as saviors. They did a good thing down there; that’s one of the reasons I’m gonna go along with this.” admitted the defense attorney.