by Frank Perry
sealed with a heavy wax covering to prevent moisture. He estimated the load to be about three feet tall, wide and deep. A cubic yard. He lifted the first brick and swam ten feet out in the channel before dropping it then returned to the box. It took him about twenty minutes to remove the top layers, about one foot of the product. He then carefully closed the lid and tightened it as he found it.
The ship’s engine echoed under water as it started building RPMs. His work was done, and he only needed to escape. It would be several more minutes before the ship actually moved, which he used to swim fast back toward the end of the canal. The tools made it awkward with the extra weight, but Fury was still at the dock when he got to the sled. He exchanged belts and rested on the sled while Fury went through her maneuvers to exit the port. As the ship steered into the darkness between the colored light beacons, he left the pilings and swam back to the jetty. His work was done for now.
Trade War
Luciano Peña could be more careful. He had more time now that Jenson had delayed things. He would catch Hunter Kohl and make fish food of him eventually. He would find his sister or his girlfriend or both of them. Then Kohl would come to him willingly and that would be that. But for now, he needed to find out everything he could from the law man. Ramon was guarding his prisoner, and Peña could wait until he told them everything he knew about Senator Jenson and about Kohl’s sister. He stayed late in his office again. He told his wife that the fishing was excellent and the association demanded more of his time than he wished. In reality, he was enjoying Roxanne finish her dictation before Captain Korb showed up. He nearly screamed in exhaustion when she finished. He felt weak. She amazed him. How could such a young girl know so much about the arts? She was masterful, especially for someone with no professional experience before joining him. She was his best achievement of all his office assistants.
He bent from his chair and held her face in his hands. “My dear, you amaze me. Remind me to be extra special to you this Christmas. I think it might be time for you to get a new car.
She gave him a huge smile. “Oh, Luca. How ‘bout another one!”
He gasp, holding her back. “No dear. Luca junior is all done for today. You did your duty. Now I need to get ready for Korb who’s on his way over.”
She immediately stood up and made sure she looked professional in case she passed Korb on the way out the door. She kissed him goodbye. They could hear Korb entering the outer office when Peña said loudly, “That will be all, Roxanne. We can finish the dictation in the morning.”
She smiled over her shoulder before leaving the office. At her desk, she gathered her purse. “Hello, Captain Korb. You can go right in.” She walked out for the night.
Peña yelled, “Korb, get in here!”
Korb had an attitude like most career felons. He didn’t like being ordered around and walked into the office with a deliberately slow cadence.
Peña pretended to be reading something on a computer screen. “Come in, Korb, and sit.”
Korb moved to the chair opposite Peña that always seemed slightly lower. “We got your man, Luca. What do you want from him? It would be easy to take him for a ride to the Farallons.”
“Not yet, Korb. First, you gotta find out what he knows about Senator Jenson. Find out everything. Find out who else knows. Find out where his files are.”
“His files will be at work, Luca. We can’t get ‘em.”
“Can you burn it down?”
“No. It’s at the state capitol. We can’t get to his office.”
“Okay. Then find out if he knows where the Rivera woman is. He knows her; he probably fucks her.”
Korb stood up. “Okay, Luca. Anything else?”
“Yeah. You did well, Korb. You and Ramon did real good. Remind me to reward you. Maybe if we catch the woman, you can have her. If you don’t want her, I’ll get Roxanne to do something special for you.”
“Thanks, boss. We missed a real special piece o’ ass with the cousin. What a waste.”
“We’ll make it up this time, Korb ... this time.”
Korb left to begin talking to his captive.
Days earlier, Senator Jenson was in the Chair of the Senate Appropriations Committee listening to each of the members from both parties expound on the merits of their special interests in the bill. The biggest issue was always the defense bill. It alone represented about sixty percent of the discretionary spending of the Government each year. All the other departments got peanuts by comparison. The entitlements such as pensions, Medicare, Social Security and hundreds of other legal mandates got most of the money. There was no debate about them. Discretionary funds were for projects and personnel that were not fixed in law, only about a quarter of the overall budget was discretionary. The entire defense budget, except for retired benefits and pensions was discretionary. In theory, the Senate Armed Services Committee were the defense experts, and the SAC was just a money rubber-stamp on the SASC recommendations. But in recent times, SASC recommendations had become largely meaningless. The SASC bill was worthless unless the SAC put money on the bill. For decades, the SAC (appropriators) had been inserting their own preferences, often ignoring the Armed Services Bill almost completely.
As Jenson listened to the palaver from the various Senate members on the SAC, he was able to shift debate between issues and totally confuse the process. One example on the docket this morning was the C17 aircraft that cost taxpayers over two hundred million dollars apiece. The Air Force didn’t want any more, had no crews or ramp space, and the SASC agreed. But the Appropriation members had other interests, like keeping the production lines running in forty-seven states affected by the airplane. Each year, the Air Force placed C17s in mothballs which were perfectly fine aircraft to make room for new ones. The only question was the number of new airplanes each year. Jenson had the ability to allow the C17 debate to continue or to shift to other topics. A few extra airplanes here or there and money was lost for thousands of other smaller projects. This conflict occasionally caused the Appropriations Bill to stall in the Committee deliberations and never make it to the full Senate for vote. If the Appropriations Bills (aka Spending Bills) didn’t pass the Senate, there wouldn’t be funding for the new fiscal year beginning October first. Also, incidental language, like drug legalization wouldn’t go into effect. All departments, including defense, would stop abruptly. Therefore, emergency Continuing Resolutions (CRs) were passed at the last minute to keep basic services running without any adherence to a logical plan for moving the country forward. Senator Jenson had the ability to delay the outcome of the Senate Bill and was using it for his personal agenda.
Claire and Laura were actually living in protective custody as neighbors in a protected Government housing complex in Alexandria, Virginia. Claire was safe across country from Peña’s influence and yet Laura was close to home. They didn’t have to live in the same facility, but neither wanted to live where they didn’t know anyone. John promised it was only for a short period. Everything they needed was nearby without going far. The GSA provided guard services (rent-a-cops) when they were inside the facility, but they needed to be cautious when venturing out. Claire’s kids went to school in Fairfax County under false names.
Peña was determined to find them, to get Hunter Kohl, but he also needed to protect Senator Jenson. His latest prisoner could be the key to success in both cases. He was at home late that night when his mobile phone vibrated. He normally ignored it, but the LCD said “Mojo.”
“Why are you calling me?”
“Yo, I gotta problem man. I’s yo’ problem.”
“Tell me what it is.”
“Yo’ shorted me one hundred thirty keys (kilos of cocaine).”
“I didn’t short you anything, pecker head.”
“Who yo’ callin’ pecker head?
Peña didn’t like calls at home, especially from idiots like this. He especially didn’t
like being called a thief. No one had ever done that – and lived. “You asshole. Stop bothering me and move the goods. I got a lot riding on this. That shipment cost me a bundle, and you’re gonna pay up.” Peña figured it was a tactic to undercut his shipment price.
“You pull this shit on me, yo’ a dead man.”
For the second time in days, Peña was hot. No one, especially his wife and kids had ever seen him lose his temper. He always had things going in the right direction. Now things were colliding and he didn’t need some ignorant drug pusher squeezing him. “Mojo, if you say one more word, I’ll feed you your balls. You got one day to transfer thirteen million to me, or you’re a dead man.”
“You ain’ gettin’ shit from me. I figure the rest of the goods is a separation bonus. Come and get it, if you can.”
Peña threw his phone against the wall. His wife looked at him cautiously. She knew not to pry, but it would disturb the children to see him. Instead, he went outside and signaled for his car. He would sleep at some hotel and grouped his men in the morning for battle. He couldn’t believe it. He had just handed the entire distribution organization to Mojo. These things can’t be reversed. Most dealers were psychotic enough without being whipped between more powerful bosses. The tier structure in drugs distribution was only as good