The Inside Man

by M. A. Rothman

“Just arriving at Union Station, going to follow up a lead that I’ve got.”

  “Take a break, I want you to meet me at Arlington Cemetery. Special Agent Tran Nguyen is being buried there today at three, and I think you should get a feel for why what you’re doing matters.”

  Levi had been to Arlington once before. When his cousin, a former Army Ranger, died in Afghanistan, he was buried with full military honors. It was during that ceremony that Levi learned just how much his cousin had kicked ass and taken names over in the Middle East. A Silver star, two Bronze stars, and a long list of other achievements qualified him to be buried in what many in the armed forces considered to be hallowed ground. Nguyen must have been a similar ass-kicker to be getting buried there.

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Good. I’ll meet you at the Visitors’ Center at two thirty.”

  Levi hung up just as the train came to a stop. Just enough time to check into his hotel, change, and head over to the funeral.

  ###

  Levi followed Agent O’Connor toward a crowd of nearly a hundred people who were all gathered in front of a flag-draped casket, all of them with heads bowed in respect for the man who’d sacrificed everything for his country.

  An orange-robed Buddhist monk spoke to them in what Levi presumed was Vietnamese, and a few dozen soldiers in full dress uniform formed an outer contingent.

  O’Connor let out a deep breath and shook his head. “Dead, because he wanted to stop child sexual exploitation.” He looked Levi in the eye. “I wanted you to see what the spear tip of this fight looks like.”

  And with that, he turned and walked away.

  Levi stayed back from the crowd, leaning against the trunk of an old magnolia tree. O’Connor hadn’t needed to bring him out here for him to take this seriously. Levi already lived his life by the motto of “do the right thing.” And what Nguyen had done—not the dying part, but the rescuing of kids—that was most certainly the right thing.

  As he scanned the crowd, Levi spotted someone looking directly at him. But almost immediately, the man broke eye contact and shifted his gaze to the coffin.

  “So, how did you know Tran?” asked a voice. A brown-haired man had sidled up next to him.

  Levi took a step back, startled. Rarely did anyone ever get within arm’s reach without him noticing. “I didn’t.”

  “I saw you come in with O’Connor. You working on a case with him?”

  “You might say that.” Levi replied. He got a soldier vibe from the man, even though he wasn’t in uniform. He was built like a linebacker, and wore a cheap but freshly pressed suit. Levi held out his hand. “The name’s Levi.”

  The man shook Levi’s hand. “Tim.”

  “I’m guessing you worked with Tran?”

  “Yup. We go back all the way to boot camp.”

  “Ah, so you were both in the Army?”

  “Feels like ages ago, but yes.” Tim stared off into the distance, frustration etched into his rugged features.

  Levi followed the man’s gaze toward the coffin. For a split second, his eyes connected again with the man who’d been looking at him earlier. This time the man gave him the briefest of nods before walking away from the ceremony.

  He shifted his thoughts back to the dead agent and admitted to Tran’s coworker, “I’m tasked with trying to track down who did this to him,” Levi said. “Do you have any thoughts?”

  “No,” Tim said with a dejected tone. “I wish I did. Every time we get close to nailing one of these bastards, they slip out of the country. They shift territories. They just shoot their inventory and bury them somewhere. These people Tran and I go after, they care nothing about human life. We’re cattle to be exploited. Kids are just easier to control than adults.”

  Levi couldn’t bring himself to even think about killing kids to hide evidence of misdeeds. What kind of twisted thought process would make that seem logical?

  “Don’t you know where they’re coming from?” he asked.

  “The pimps? The slavers?” Tim pressed his lips together and gave Levi a sidelong glance. “You’re new here, aren’t you? Of course, we know. They’re coming from everywhere. South of the border. The Middle East. But right now, we’re inundated with a flood of Asian kids being exploited.”

  “Why not stop it at the source? Why wait until they get here?”

  Tim snorted derisively. “Oh, we try to get permission to go after them, but we’re blocked each and every time.”

  “The Bureau blocks you?”

  “Sure, it’s the Bureau sometimes—usually due to lack of jurisdiction. More often it’s the foreign country not wanting us operating in their borders.”

  “And let me guess: when you drop the dime on your suspects in country, so that their authorities can grab them, they never do.”

  “They never do.” Tim’s troubled expression grew darker. He turned to Levi and said, “I hope you nail whoever did this to the wall.”

  With a shroud of frustration and deep-seated emotion, the ex-soldier turned and walked away.

  ###

  The sound of the shower running echoed through Madison’s apartment as Levi thumbed through one of the many unlabeled workbooks that were lying on her desk. Their relationship had spanned nearly a year, so he’d spent a number of weekends in this small, minimalist apartment. It was a one-bedroom, furnished only with a sofa, an old tube TV on a rickety stand, a desk, a kitchen table with two chairs, and some bedroom furniture. Add in some clothes, disposable kitchenware, and whatever was in her fridge, and that was the extent of her worldly possessions. Levi had poked fun at it in the past, but her rationale was pretty sound.

  “It’s just me and work. Who am I here trying to impress?”

  He respected that.

  Levi had met her when she was working the part of an undercover operations officer for the CIA—and as far as he knew, she still was. She never talked about work with him though, not even reminiscing about the time their paths had crossed on the job. Though she was very focused on her work, she kept that part of herself firewalled from him. And ultimately, that was what made Levi a bit uneasy about whatever their relationship was and where it was heading.

  He knew more about Madison, with the help of Denny, than she realized. He’d seen her DD-214s, military discharge papers, and he knew she’d been an EOD member of some skill in the Navy. An explosives expert. So, as he flipped through the handwritten pages of one of her notebooks, he wasn’t surprised to find that she’d drawn diagrams of IEDs, improvised explosive devices, likely from some type of bomb-tech class. He understood enough to get the gist of her notes—he’d been studying some of the basic electronics books in his library, and could at least read the circuit diagrams she’d drawn.

  In the movies, they always showed some poor bomb tech sweating over which color wire needed to be cut to defuse the bomb at the last minute. Almost all of that was crap and nonsense. The truth was, most military and civilian explosives experts didn’t try to defuse bombs very often at all. It was usually safer to just isolate the bomb and blow it to smithereens.

  But there was definitely a science to bomb-making, and Madison knew it well. She’d written nearly ten full pages solely on the topic of collapsing circuits. As Levi flipped through the pages of her handwritten notes and precisely drawn circuit diagrams, he wondered whether she would give him some lessons on this stuff.

  “Nosy, aren’t we?”

  With a sheepish smile, Levi set aside the notebook, and turned to see the frowning face of Madison. She was fresh out of the shower, one eyebrow arched as if to say, What the hell do you think you’re doing?

  He stepped over to her and gave her a light peck on the lips. “I know, I know, you hate me going through your things. But it was just sitting there on the desk and—”

  “And you couldn’t resist.” She rolled her eyes, turned her naked back to him, and said, “Zip me up.”

  Levi zipped up the black cockt
ail dress and whistled appreciatively at the way the outfit hugged her slender curves. “You said you wanted to talk.”

  “Not now. Let’s get to the restaurant.”

  “Are you driving, or am I?”

  “Unfortunately, you’ll have to follow me.” She gave him a slight frown and waggled her phone. “I’m on call for a case, so I may need to bug out at a moment’s notice.”

  “Okay, let’s get going.” Levi offered his arm, and she took it as they walked out of the apartment.

  ###

  The place Madison brought them to was packed with diners, but all Levi could see was Madison’s sad, but resolute expression.

  “I think it’s only fair to you that…” Madison paused as a waiter delivered trays laden with steaks and roasted chicken to the adjoining table. Then she took in a deep breath and tried again. “I think it’s only fair to you that we stop seeing each other.”

  She lowered her gaze to her uneaten plate of chicken-Caesar salad. “Those cramps I was having, it was my body having a really rough time. I’d miscarried before, and I must not have realized it. This time, it was bad. I’m not going to be able to have kids.”

  Levi’s heart dropped to his stomach. He couldn’t even imagine what Madison was going through. What she’d already gone through—without him. An overwhelming sense of guilt washed over him. “I’m so sorry this happened. I—”

  “No, it’s for the best. I was never sure about having kids, or even getting married.” She gave him a weak smile. “You made me think about all of that and more. But I also know that you need someone who you can share your life with. We have too many secrets between us. It’s not fair to you, what I do, what you do… It’s not … it’s not good for a relationship. I think my miscarriage was a sign—”

  “Maddie, that’s ridiculous. It’s not—”

  Madison’s phone buzzed and she snatched it off the table and put it to her ear. A few seconds passed, and she nodded. “Understood. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  She got up from the table. “Sorry, I have to get going.” Madison leaned over and kissed his cheek, then walked out of the restaurant, leaving him alone.

  Levi stared at the table filled with food. No amount of food could fill the hollow pit he was feeling in his gut.

  He waved the waiter over. “Can I get the check?”

  The waiter shook his head. “No need, sir. The lady took care of the bill already. Do you want me to wrap this up for you to take home?”

  “No.” Levi flipped a twenty-dollar tip onto the table. “I’m done here.”

  Levi got up and walked back to his car. Tomorrow would be a long day.

  It was time to meet up with one of the heads of the Marino crime family.

  Chapter Eleven

  There were eight days left, and Levi’s mental clock ticked ever louder. He adjusted the baseball cap—pressed the hidden switch on its bill to turn it off—as he walked into Ma Kelly’s Bistro, a place no self-respecting New York member of the Mafia would find himself in. It was an old Irish pub converted to serve food to folks that didn’t care about what kind of animal the meat was coming from. The place was dingy and smelled of stale beer. Not surprisingly, it was nearly empty.

  A tall, barrel-chested man got up from one of the tables, and though Levi had never met the man, he could tell that was his guy. Dino Minelli.

  “My cousin Frankie says we’re all friends,” Dino said.

  Being friends in La Cosa Nostra had a special meaning. When someone introduced you to another member of the Mafia, they’d say you were either my friend, which meant you were a connected guy, but they wouldn’t discuss business in front of you, or they’d say you were our friend, which meant you were a made guy, a person of mutual respect, and someone who could be trusted with business. A person who’d taken the oath.

  Levi shook hands with the big man, who stood a good three inches over Levi’s six-foot frame. “Frankie’s a good man.” He gestured to the dingy joint. “You eat in this place?”

  Dino smirked. “You kidding me?” He motioned for Levi to follow him out of the restaurant, and they began walking down a busy street in DC. “Nah, I just wanted to make sure nobody saw who I’m talking with, or you’d have the cops tailing you. I’m more a Virginia Beach guy than DC proper.”

  Levi adjusted his cap, turning it back on. He felt the tickle of barely-perceptible shocks coming off the metal posts inside the cap’s liner as it went through its startup diagnostics.

  The two of them chatted about the differences between Virginia and New York City, and how Dino had gotten into the rackets. He was surprised by Levi’s back story.

  “Damn, I’ve never heard of made guy who wasn’t at least part Italian.”

  “I might be the only one.” Levi said. “I’ve known Frankie and Don Bianchi since they were kids. And the old boss, the current don’s father, he’d made an exception. I heard he had to go to the commission to make it happen, official-like.”

  “Damn.” They crossed the street into Penrose Park, and Dino headed for one of the benches that lined the playground. “You must have made quite an impression to have a boss go to bat for you like that. I’m not sure any boss nowadays would stick his neck out that far for anyone.”

  They sat on the bench and stayed silent for a moment, absorbing the sounds of the nearby traffic, the birds in the trees, and the smell of the changing season.

  Levi felt a slight tickle from one of the rear metal posts in his cap. Someone or something behind him was looking his way. But when he turned, he saw nothing but the semi-circle of trees that bordered the park. Then the tickle of electricity stopped.

  He cupped his hand, placed it on the side facing the trees, and said, “The former Don Bianchi was a good man. He believed in doing right by people who were loyal.”

  Dino nodded. “I heard that about him. So, Gino Fiorucci is who Frankie said you needed to talk to. I don’t personally know the guy. He’s a connected guy, good earner, but I don’t really know much more than that. I talked to his friend, and he said he was into shipping stuff. Contacts at the docks, things get lost, you know what I mean.” The large mobster turned sideways on the bench and faced Levi. “So what’s he got to do with you?”

  Working with the feds wasn’t unheard of, but it was almost always a death sentence in the Mafia. Something Levi would have to work around.

  “Dino, my boss is working a deal with someone, and let’s just say someone’s granddaughter got kidnapped and there was a black Suburban involved. I got some info about that black Suburban being trashed and set on fire. One of my guys gave me a report saying it had a fingerprint left on the steering column, and it matched a Giancarlo Fiorucci. That’s why I want to talk to him. I don’t give a crap about the car. Just the kid.”

  “How old is he?”

  “The kid? Well, the kid’s five, and she’s a girl.”

  Dino’s face scrunched up as if he’d swallowed a lemon. “My baby girl Donna just turned five.” He shook his head and glanced around the empty park. “I can’t let you rough him up or anything. That’s on us. But I’ll have to talk to the boss before we can go any further.”

  “There’s a ransom,” Levi said, “and we don’t have much time.” Eight days. “When can you talk to your boss?”

  Dino dug into his suit pocket and extracted a notebook with a short pencil stuck through its coil binding. He began scribbling something. “I’ll talk to him this afternoon and call you with what he says.” He ripped a sheet of paper from the notebook and handed it to Levi.

  It was an address in DC.

  “A friend of ours told me that Gino eats lunch almost every day at this place. Real out of the way from my normal stomping ground, but since it’s nearby, maybe you can at least keep an eye out. Remember, I can’t let you touch him. He’s protected.”

  Levi folded the sheet of paper and stuck it in his jacket pocket. “I understand. Dino, I appreciate this. And tell your boss
that I’m just going on a hunch. It’s just when it comes to a kid and a deadline, I can’t leave any stone unturned, you know what I mean?”

  Dino nodded, and they shook hands. “I’ll call you later.”

  As Dino walked out of the park, a couple of neighborhood kids walked past him and then began playing on the jungle gym.

  Levi pulled out his phone and searched the internet for photos of Giancarlo Fiorucci.

  He smiled as images of Giancarlo “Gino” Fiorucci showed up on his browser search. Gino had a dark-olive complexion, black hair, bushy eyebrows, and a long hawk-like nose. Not exactly a pretty boy. In fact, the longer Levi studied the man’s face, the more he felt a desire to hurt him.

  He looked at his watch. He had an hour to get to the restaurant.

  That was plenty of time.

  ###

  It was almost four in the afternoon, and Levi had observed Gino’s every movement for the last four hours. He’d found him at a place called the Cafe Deluxe, just outside of a part of DC called Foggy Bottom. Lots of government types ate there. When Levi came in and took a seat at the bar, Gino was eating at a table by himself.

  After lunch, Gino walked along Dupont Circle, and a man approached him. The new guy was dressed in the kind of run-of-the-mill suit the drones in the State Department wore. Probably some middle-level flunky.

  Levi immediately pulled out Denny’s video pen, and turned it on.

  Anyone who was watching Levi would see a man staring off into space, and if they were paying careful attention, he happened to be nervously playing with a pen in his hand.

  Levi purposefully faced east while he aimed the pen at Gino and the government worker. An image flickered in front of his right eye and he zoomed in while leaning against a light pole. The whole idea of an image overlaid with what he was seeing still left him a little queasy. It was like a heads-up display, but in real life.

  He began recording.

  The two men clearly knew each other. Gino pulled from his suit jacket a paper-wrapped package just the right size to be a stack of cash, and in return he received a large manila envelope.