GOTU - A Robin Marlette Novel

by Mike McNeff

  “Thanks, Rob. I've learned so much from working with you and your team. I appreciate everything.”

  “We appreciate you, Angie.” Angie waved and left.

  The next morning Robin sat at his desk, after hanging up from one of his endless phone calls, Robin leaning on his elbows and rubbing his temples. Emmett's deep voice interrupted him from the doorway.

  “You okay, Boss?”

  Robin lifted his head. “Yeah, Emmett, I'm fine.”

  Emmett came in and dropped his large frame into the chair next to Robin's desk. “Rob, do you know from five in the morning to noon, I counted that you handled one hundred and thirty-seven calls? I can't even begin to count how many people you talked to or how many questions you answered. I don't know how you can switch gears so fast and keep so much in your head. I swear we are going to have to start following you and pick up the information falling out of your ears.”

  “I'm dictating. I've got it covered.”

  Emmett leaned towards Robin. “Rob, you're doing too much. You need to give more admin stuff to John and Angie.”

  Robin took a deep breath. “Maybe you're right. I will try to do that.”

  “Promise me, boss, or I may have to get violent.”

  “Okay, okay, I promise.”

  “All right, see you later.”

  “Thanks.”

  Robin got home at midnight to a dark and quiet house. He felt lonely and guilty. His stomach growled, but he didn't have the energy to do anything about it. As he walked back to the bedroom, he stopped to look in at each of his children. When he got to his room, he dropped is clothes and put his pistol up in the closet. Putting on his sleeping shorts, he laid his exhausted body down and snuggled up to Karen. She was awake, as usual, and put her hand into his. He fell asleep.

  Robin opened his eyes to see Eddie's eyes looking intently at him. Robin sighed, as this happened almost every night. Robin put his arm around Eddie's waist and pulled him into bed between him and Karen. Robin's heart ached.

  EIGHTEEN

  At eight the next evening, Robin had just finished a federal wiretap affidavit to convert a state order in Texas into a federal order. He needed to get a federal agent to co-sign the affidavit application and deliver it to FBI and DEA headquarters first thing the next morning. It needed to go through the federal administrative approval process before being submitted to a federal judge. Chris was in D.C. again, so Robin called Angie at home, since she had assumed Chris' admin duties and since DEA was jointly running the tap with Texas DPS.

  “Hello,” Angie answered the phone in a soft, melancholy voice.

  “Hey, Angie. It's Rob.”

  “Oh hi, Rob!” Angie's voice brightened.

  “Hey, I finished this affidavit application. All it needs now is your signature.”

  “Oh, okay, I'll come over to the wire room.”

  “No, you don't have to do that. Just tell me where your new apartment is and I will bring it over.”

  “Oh…oh…I, well, okay.” Angie seemed frazzled.

  “Angie, are you all right?”

  “Yes, yes. I'm okay, Rob. Just come over. Do you know the apartments south of the FBI office?”

  “The ones where one of the FBI's safe houses is?”

  “Yes, that's it. Chris found this place for me. I am in number 212.”

  “I'll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  Robin gathered his papers and put them in his briefcase. He said goodbye to the night listening teams and walked out into the warm Phoenix air. The summer sun, in its last stages, mercifully started to allow the earth to cool. Another glowing orange Arizona sunset grew against the dark blue, cloudless sky.

  Robin scanned the area as he walked towards his van. He looked for anything out of the ordinary. He climbed into the van, started the engine, and put the air conditioner on full-blast. The van now sounded like a wind tunnel. He turned up his police radio.

  As he drove he thought about his conservation with Angie. Over the last week, they had worked closely together. Robin liked Angie, and he found it kind of nice to work with an attractive woman, but Angie guarded her private life. Robin knew virtually nothing about her outside of their common work. Even though she seemed to be comfortable around everyone, she still had those sad eyes.

  Robin steered his van through traffic. He regularly checked his rear view mirrors and the cars around him at stoplights. He drove past the FBI office and turned right on the next street, then turning left into the parking lot of the apartment complex. Robin could see Angie looking through the security eyehole in the door. When she opened the door, Robin walked in, stunned by an almost bare two-room apartment. Personal items were strewn around the floor. A card table and a lone chair stood in one corner, near the kitchenette. An empty McDonald's bag was crumpled on the table. A small T.V. sat in the opposite corner. The door to the bedroom was closed.

  “Please, sit down, Robin.” Angie pointed to the chair.

  Robin opened his briefcase and handed the affidavit application to Angie. “You're going to need the chair to read this.”

  Angie promptly dropped to a sitting position on the floor. “I prefer the floor. Sit in the chair.” Robin could tell she was trying to sound authoritative. Robin mentally shrugged as he pulled the chair out and sat down. He looked at Angie, who was reading the affidavit. He noticed her shoulders were shaking and her hands were trembling. She was crying.

  “Angie” Robin stopped midsentence. He didn't know what to say. Angie put the papers aside, put her hands to her face, and silently cried. Robin knelt down beside her and touched her shoulder. She put her arms around his neck and clung tightly to him, burying her face in his chest. Robin put his arms around her and gently held her, letting her cry.

  After a short while, Angie seemed to calm down.

  Robin lifted her face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She got up and went into the bedroom and came out with a tissue box. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she sat down on the floor next to Robin.

  “Did you hear about the incident in New York where a female DEA agent was accidentally shot and killed by other agents?” Angie asked.

  “Yeah, a while back…about six months ago.”

  “I came here from the New York office.”

  “Was the woman agent a friend of yours?”

  “Yes.” Angie began crying again. Robin waited for her to calm down.

  “What a horrible tragedy. My heart goes out to you, Angie.”

  Angie looked at him and then put her head on Robin's chest. “That's only half of it, Rob. One of the agents who shot her is my husband.”

  “Oh God, Angie, I don't know what to say. What an unthinkable situation!” He held her as the sobs continued.

  “How did it happen?” Robin asked softly.

  “They were trying to arrest armed and dangerous narcotics suspects in an apartment complex--a man and a woman. My husband and another agent were covering a walkway. They were on surveillance there for hours and didn't attend the briefing.”

  “That's not good. Did they use a tactical team?”

  “No. The senior agent in charge of the operation doesn't like the tactical guys, and said his team would handle it without tactical.”

  “Angie, that borders on criminal conduct. It certainly is incompetent supervision. What actually happened?”

  “It just turned dark. Some agents saw the male walking down the walkway further up. They started shouting. My husband saw a female coming around the corner with a gun. He didn't know that a female agent came with the arrest team. He and his partner yelled, “DEA!” She turned toward them and they opened fire and killed her.”

  “Damn, that's as bad as it can get.”

  “Ever since the shooting, they won't let me see or talk to my husband. I tried and tried, but they wouldn't let me see him. They have him and the other agent in administrative quarantine.”

  “I don't think they can do that
.”

  “They have us over a barrel because they are still paying his salary.”

  “Ahh, I see. Have you considered hiring an attorney?”

  “They have not charged my husband with anything, so I am waiting. I raised so much hell, they transferred me here and told me if I didn't take the transfer, they would fire me for insubordination.” Angie took a deep breath. “Rob, I have been so torn up inside, and so lonely. I love my husband--I miss him terribly.”

  Robin looked into Angie's eyes. He felt engulfed by their sadness. He gently stroked Angie's forehead. “Angie, there is nothing I can say or do to take this pain away from you,” Robin said softly. “But I want you to know I am here for you. If you need to talk or just need a hug, I'm here.”

  Angie rose to her knees and looked at Robin. Her brown eyes were still so sad, but so beautiful. She leaned over and gave him a soft kiss. She hesitated there, and Robin felt her mouth begin to open. He very gently pushed her back as a searing flash of desire shot through his body. He slowly got up and then helped Angie to her feet.

  “Angie, you're a beautiful woman and I have become fond of you since we have been working together, but you love your husband, and I certainly love my wife. As much as I am tempted, it simply isn't in me to turn our relationship into a romantic one. I don't think it is really in you, either.”

  Angie looked at Robin. She then kissed him gently again. “You're a good man, Robin Marlette. Thank you for your understanding tonight.”

  “I'm here for you, Angie. You know I'll keep our conversations to myself.”

  “I know. Thank you.”

  “I'd better get going. Call me in the morning if there is a problem with the application.”

  Robin walked out the door to his van. Conflicting thoughts, guilt, and jumbled emotions cascaded through his mind and heart. He took a very deep breath. Emotionally drained, he needed to go home and hold Karen.

  NINETEEN

  The next afternoon, Mark Warren watched Walton and the guy named Trinidad through the periscope in the surveillance van. The suspects were sitting in Walton's car in the parking lot of the Central Plaza Shopping Center. He snapped pictures through the scope.

  “I hope these guys move soon. We're running out of ice for the auxiliary cooler,” Doug Auriel observed.

  “We may just have to get hot. We're not turning the engine on around these assholes. Come look at these two guys who came with Trinidad. This is the first time he has brought anyone with him,” Mark said. The agents changed positions.

  “Damn! Those are some hard-looking hombres,” Doug commented.

  “You got that right.” Mark thought for a moment. “Doug, do you think we ought to take these guys down now? We're getting warrants for Walton and Trinidad. It's not like we don't have probable cause—and these two guys with Trinidad concern me.”

  “I don't know, Mark. You know Robin. He has a plan.”

  “I know, I know, but he also always tells us to use initiative when we feel we should take action.”

  “Well just look at it from a tactical point of view. You know Trinidad and his boys are armed. Walton may be, too. There are only two other guys besides us out here today. That's even odds. Tactical principles say we should get the odds in our favor and have a plan. I say we hold off for now. We'll be taking these guys down soon enough.”

  “I guess you're right, partner.”

  Doug swung the periscope back to Walton's car just in time to see Walton slam his hand against his steering wheel. “Walton is pissed again.”

  “That guy is crazy. From the looks of Trinidad, Walton won't be around long if he keeps that up.”

  “Mr. T is leaving now. Think we should follow him and his two goons?”

  “As much as I would like to, we don't have air assets today. Mr. T would probably burn us, especially with four more eyes in the car. Robin wouldn't like that—especially when we're so close to busting these guys. Let's just stick with Walton. He always provides us with an interesting day.”

  “Roger that, partner. Let's get rolling.”

  With his usual calm and calculating composure completely gone, Walton shook with rage. I can't believe Miguel is not only going to kill Marlette, but is actually serious about killing his family. Why doesn't that idiot see he would cause law enforcement to pull out all of the stops to get the people behind it and send the public into a frenzy? This is not good. All of my contacts will panic and he thinks it will only make them more afraid of him and make him more powerful. What an idiot. What a crazy fool.

  Walton pulled into his slot in the parking garage of his office building. He put the car in park and turned off the ignition. His head slowly sank to his chest. It's over. Everything I've worked for will be gone. He sat still. Then his head shot up. I must disappear. I need to get as much money as I can out of my accounts and holdings and leave the country. I'll have to transfer what cash I get to my secret Swiss accounts. I must get started now.

  On foot in Walton's parking garage, Mark watched Walton from behind a concrete pillar. He saw Walton quickly get out of his Mercedes and walk to the elevator. Walton's behavior was totally foreign when compared to the Walton Mark had watched for almost a month now. Something new had changed him, and he definitely did not like it. Mark needed to brief Robin as soon as possible.

  TWENTY

  Robin sat in his office at the wire room early the next morning, on the phone with Jim Adams.

  “Rob, all of the arrest warrants are ready.”

  “Good. The follow-up search warrants would be signed today, but coordinating the numerous arrests and raids across four states and D.C. is a definite pain in the ass. I'm just grateful for how everyone is working and cooperating, even DEA.”

  “That is outstanding!”

  “Yes it is. I'm excited about bringing this investigation to the next level.”

  “Let's do it!”

  “We're on it. Talk to you later.”

  Robin hung the phone and leaned back in his chair. Mark Warren came in to his office.

  “Did you see my report on Walton's activities yesterday?” Mark said.

  “I did. Something is definitely up—I don't like the looks of it. As a precautionary measure, I put out a memo to all members of the task force advising them to be extra careful when out and about. I told the wire room staff to keep a lookout and be careful when coming or going. We asked Phoenix PD to increase their frequent patrols of the area. I don't know if they are going to get violent, but there's no sense in taking chances.”

  “Well, Sarge, we've had intelligence about hit contracts on one or more members of the squad on a regular basis.”

  “Many police officers go through it, but a hit rarely ever occurs. But it does happen. So, that's why we aren't taking any chances.”

  “I'm with you, Sarge.” Mark waved and went back to working on search warrants.

  Robin spent the next five hours with Angie tying up loose ends on the arrest plan. Their relationship remained friendly.

  Angie looked at Rob and spoke in a low whisper. “Thanks again for being a good man, Rob. I appreciate your restraint and recognizing I'm in a very vulnerable state.”

  Robin smiled, “I'm just glad we can be friends, Angie. You've been a very valuable team player in this operation. I appreciate all of your hard work and I'm still here for you.”

  Angie reached over and touched Robin's hand. “Thank you.”

  Emmett stuck his head in the office doorway. “Hey, boss, Mike, John and I finished the follow-up search warrant affidavit and the accompanying warrants. We're heading over to federal court to get them signed.”

  “Good work. We'll see you when you get back.” Emmett saluted and left.

  “The next few days are going to be non-stop. I have a few more things to do, but I'm going home for the afternoon to spend time with the family. I'll be back in the evening.”

  “Okay.”

  Robin gathered up some papers when the phone rang. He looked at it with
a thought of not answering it for a moment, but sighed and picked it up.

  “Sergeant Marlette.”

  “Hi Rob, it's Mary. I have a call for you. I think it's Chucky.”

  “Oh, great, okay, Mary, put him through.”

  “Here it comes.”

  Robin heard a click. “Sergeant Marlette.”

  “Robin, ol' boy, it's Chucky.”

  “What's up, Chucky?”

  “Hey, I've stumbled on some serious shit, man. I got info that will make me your favorite informant!”

  “You already are, Chucky. Whaddya got.”

  “Military explosives.”

  “What did you say?!”

  “I bought some military explosives off some soldiers from the Flagstaff Army Depot. They stole them from there.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I'm down at 24th Street and Camelback.”

  “Can you meet me at the parking lot of the shopping center in Ahwatukee on Elliot Road in about thirty minutes?”

  “I can.”

  “See you there.”

  Robin picked up his briefcase, jumped in his van, and drove to Ahwatukee. He parked his van in an empty corner of the lot and watched for Chucky's clunker. He noticed a new Mercedes cruising the parking lot. It meandered for a minute and then headed towards Robin's van. His head cocked with surprise and suspicion when he saw Chucky driving it. Chucky parked next to Robin and got into the passenger seat of Robin's van.

  “Chucky, tell me you didn't steal the Mercedes.”

  “C'mon, Rob, I haven't done anything like since I got out of prison.”

  “Okay, where did you get the money for a Mercedes?”

  “I've made amends with my family.”

  “Oh, so you've been accepted back into Long Island society?”

  “Not quite, but my family finally believes I'm not a career criminal.”

  “Just how did you convince them of that?”