by Desiree Holt
“Not on a steady basis. It’s too close to Sinaloa territory for him to have his people there on regular assignment. Besides, I think he’s convinced no one would dare invade his territory.”
“His kind always are.”
“You’ll need SCUBA gear, but I have plenty, so you don’t need to worry about bringing it.”
“What are we using it for?” Rocket asked.
“You’ll see. I want to make sure I have everything arranged before I lay it out for you.”
“We’ll take care of the hotel as soon as we’re done with this call. I’ll text you the name of the corporation we’ll use.”
One of the first things Tom Hernandez, their friend and attorney, had helped them set up was a list of dummy corporations with credentials and credit cards. They needed something to serve as a cover when they went into strange places where people might question them. Like now. They had four that they rotated, since Tom had said if they used just one, people could catch on to it. They’d learned in the SEALS that it was best not to leave a real-life footprint whatever they were doing. Anyone could be watching and listening and who would put two and two together. In addition, they’d had many successful missions which had also garnered a number of enemies for Galaxy. They weren’t leading anyone to their door.
“Good. You can rent a car at the airport,” Ed was saying. “There’s three rental companies, but even so, Manzanillo is a busy tourist area, so I’d do it in advance. And rather than trying to hide your arrival, you want to be open and aboveboard, blending in with the rest of the tourists.”
Eagle snorted. “It’s not our first rodeo, Ed.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Ed paused. “The first thing we’ll do is go fishing.”
“Fishing?” Blaze snapped the word out. “This is the second time you mentioned it. What for?”
“Out on my boat. The only place we can have a conversation without in-person or electronic eavesdropping. Got it?”
“We do,” Eagle bit off. “As I say, we’re not exactly novices.”
“Also, out on the water, I can give you a good look at Santa Marita without actually having to go ashore. You need to get the image of the place fixed in your minds. I’ll make sure you get to see everything from the water before we drop anchor for a while.”
“Good idea.” Eagle nodded. “But we’ll have to go ashore eventually if we’re going to get Mallory Kane out of there.”
“Yes, but not when the sun is shining bright. Barrera has his men watching every new face coming to Santa Marita. If they do anything the least bit suspicious, they’re toast. Barrera is such an immense power in Santa Marita, and is suspicious of anyone and anything. He also has a short fuse. And I think that’s where your girl got in trouble. She was a little too nosy for her own good.”
Viper snapped his fingers. “That’s what the SCUBA gear is for.”
“It is indeed. I have the perfect landing spot and the perfect place to hit the water from.”
Rocket looked around at the others. “Questions? Comments? Before we disconnect?”
They all shook their heads.
“All right, then. If any pop up, we’ll save them until we get there and meet with you,” he told the other man.
“Good. The first thing you’ll do is check into a hotel, the one that refers me for fishing charters, so nothing looks out of place. I’m sure you guys have at least one credit card to use that doesn’t come back to any of you, right?”
“We do,” Blaze told him. “And you said the Grand Plaza, right?”
“Yes. You can blend in with the crowd easily there, plus they know me. If anyone asks you what you’re doing in Manzanillo and you tell them you’re going fishing with me, they’ll accept it at face value., When you get here, I’ll have more information and we’ll go over every single detail. Anything else?”
“We’re good,” Eagle told him.
“Okay. Write down this phone number and text me when you leave and what your arrival time is.”
After Eagle closed out the call, they all stared at each other for a long moment.
“Well,” Blaze said at last, “I’d better call Saint and let him know what’s happening. He’ll have to figure flying time from here to Manzanillo so we know when to leave if we’re gonna get there about eight-thirty.”
Rocket pushed his chair back and stood up. “I’ll get one of our backup credit cards out of my safe and make the hotel reservations.”
“Four rooms,” Viper told him. “I don’t think the kind of guys we’re supposed to be would share.”
“Got it.”
Less than thirty minutes later, they were set and Eagle texted the information to Ed.
The answer came back right away.
Getting things set on this end. We are a go.
* * * *
Felix Barrera thought living in the presidential palace was one of the top perks of ruling Santa Marita. His office was filled with expensive furniture and pictures of him with his ‘clients’ hung on the walls. A handcrafted humidor sat on the corner of the huge mahogany desk and a phone with multiple lines was at his right hand. Across from him were two hand-tooled leather armchairs for special guests. Everyone else stood. There was no computer, no stack of files or pile of notes. And the phone was mostly to reach people assigned to work for him in the building. Most of his calls were made on one of two cell phones and the only paperwork he did was signing important documents placed in front of him.
The bulk of his time spent meeting important ‘clients’ of his drug trade, being driven through town to spy on people and assess whatever was going on, and screwing the women he had Ruben fetch for him. It was good to be the king. Or, as in his case, el president.
Now he sat back in his well-upholstered office chair, picked up one of the specially blended cigars he ordered each month, lit it and took a long, slow draw. A good cigar and fine brandy could always smooth out the bumps in the road. Lately, he was finding there to be more and more, and today there was one he couldn’t figure out how to fix. In fact, it seemed that it had all been so easy in the beginning. Get rid of the president and his loyal followers. Take over the government. Grow and sell a lot of drugs. Kill people if they didn’t follow orders.
After all, Santa Marita was only a tiny dot in the Pacific, although big enough for his ego. And this way he could control everything. Plus, it was too small for Sinaloa to bother with. So he operated autonomously, controlling everything, building his drug trade, hosting rich criminals from all over the world. It fed his ego and gave him great satisfaction.
But the excessive killing wasn’t achieving what he wanted it to and even the new turistas he attracted to Santa Marita, drug dealers and international criminals, weren’t too happy with blood running in the streets. He drew them here with promises of a relaxed existence where their money could buy them anything, no extradition and a bank he controlled where they could hide their money. He was beginning to get the feeling that they thought he couldn’t handle his situation without so much ancillary damage.
Maybe he was a little hasty on the trigger. His men apparently were. He’d figure out a way to fix that without losing control. Ruben would help him. None of this would be possible without Ruben, his unequalled right hand.
He blew smoke circles in the air and looked at his most trusted lieutenant, Ruben Vidal. The man had been with him since the days with Sinaloa and the only one he’d trusted to be his top teniente when he’d made the break from that cartel. He’d done something no one else had, planned his coup and executed it. It had been a bold move but had succeeded only because in the end he’d had a sit-down with the capo. He’d told him he could develop a raw territory and Sinaloa would get a cut of the profits. It was certainly better than a bloody battle.
Ruben had been a godsend as they’d built their army and set up the structure of the Barrera cartel. It was Ruben who had convinced him that killing the president of Santa Marita and taking over the government would give him the
total control of the country. No worries about having to smuggle things out. Ruben who had reminded him that force was the tool to accomplish things. Ruben who helped him recruit and run the army that daily patrolled the streets of the island.
And Ruben who had first brought the gringa to his attention and told him she spelled trouble. He couldn’t say why, he told Barrera, but he smelled it. Now the woman had disappeared.
“Still no sign of that bitch?”
Ruben shook his head. “Nada. It’s as if she vanished in a puff of smoke, which we both know in Santa Marita is next to impossible.”
“And nothing to tell us exactly who she is or why she’s visiting Inez Albado?”
“Not a sniff. On the surface she seems to be nothing more than what she appears. And she’s been doing the usual tourist things since she got here, wandering around Santa Marita, hitting the bars and cantinas, either by herself or with the Albado woman. Still…”
“Still, you get a strange feeling about her,” Barrera guessed.
“I do. Mainly because in the short time she’s been here, she can’t have acquired anyone to help her disappear like this. We’ve been keeping an eye on her since she started chatting people up in bars and restaurants on a regular basis and absolutely no one pops into mind that would fit that bill. But someone has to be doing this. The question is, who?”
“And a good question it is. Santa Marita is not that big and we have a big enough army. We need to start looking at strangers.”
“But not scooping them up right away,” Vidal reminded him. “We don’t want to send out warning signals, or screw with someone who could turn out to be valuable to us.”
“Of course, of course.” Barrera nodded. “As usual, you are right. Your instincts are particularly good. That’s one of the things that makes you so important to me. If you think something’s off, I agree with you. But what? What the fuck could she be doing here? And why?”
“One of my guards texted me when she showed up at the hospital, but I get a hinky feeling for her. He asked for her identification and she showed him her driver’s license and her passport, neither of which gave us any information I could use. I took the information and looked up her passport on the dark web, and nada. All I got was the fact that she’s a copy editor for an advertising firm and seems to lead a very boring life.” He paused. “That is, for a chica who looks like her.”
Felix lifted an eyebrow. “So, your antennae were quivering.”
Ruben nodded. “There’s something there. I can’t put my finger on it, but…something.”
“And she wasn’t at the nurse’s house when you went there?”
“No. And we searched every inch of the place.”
“Well, keep an eye on it.” He took another draw on the cigar. “What do the Inez woman’s parents do? What is their work?”
“They both work at Santa Marita Public Utilities. The mother is in customer relations and the father is an electrician. Very dull to watch.”
“But you’re keeping an eye on them.”
Ruben nodded. “Although they are truly dull people. Go to work every morning. They share a car, so he carpools, leaving the vehicle for her. When it’s her turn, she has a friend pick her up.”
“Wait.” Barrera held up a hand. “Could they sneak this woman out of the house in the carpool vehicle?”
“I don’t see how. We’ve watched the house for the past couple of days. When the vehicle arrives, it stops in front and waits for Albado to come out.”
Barrera frowned. “I don’t know. The gringos are very experienced at planting people who look nothing like what they really are. We dealt with that when we were still part of the Sinaloa organization. She gives off that same vibe.”
“I’m well aware,” Ruben agreed. “How do you want to proceed?”
“I still have the feeling she’s somehow stashed away in that house.” He stared at his cigar for a moment before tapping the ash into the ashtray next to him. “Keep an eye on the nurse. If anyone will be involved in whatever that woman does, it will be her. Watch everything she does, but check the house on a regular basis, too.”
Ruben opened his mouth to say something, then apparently thought better of it and just nodded.
“What?” Barrera asked. “Whatever it is, say it. You don’t have to hold back with me. You know that.”
Of all the men closest to him, Ruben Vidal was the only one he gave such freedom to, the only one he completely trusted. The man was smart, smarter than most of his high-level men. Maybe smarter than all of them. Sometimes he wondered how long the man would continue to be happy playing second fiddle, but Barrera wasn’t stupid. He also knew that having that leading position was almost as good as being the top dog if the rewards were worth it. Barrera continued to make sure they were, because having Ruben in that position was key to his continued success.
“Well, I’ve been thinking. It’s almost impossible to completely disappear in Santa Marita. We’re an island, and we control every manner of arrival and exit. We run the marina, the airport, the docks. Everything. A person cannot get off this island unless we give them permission. Right? So I think this is not some stupid bitch we are looking for. And I don’t think her name is really Melinda Clayton.”
Barrera studied him. “So what do you suggest?”
“Keep eyes on the house. I know that bitch is there somewhere and I’m going to figure how to find out. They can only hide so much.”
“You can’t be obvious about it,” Barrera warned. “I’m sure you know that. They’re smart. They have to be in order to keep her hidden. Find a way to hide someone who can keep watch.”
“That’s my plan,” Ruben agreed. “It will take some complicated maneuvering on their part if she’s there and they want to move her. We can’t let that happen. But don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.”
Barrera smiled. “I know you will. You always do.” He dropped another collar of ash in the dish. “But we have other business going on that we have to protect and not call attention to.”
“We do.” Ruben nodded. “We have a large shipment going out this weekend that needs to be packaged for delivery. I’m sending a crew to handle it. We’re meeting the customer out on the water about ten miles from here on Sunday.”
“Very good.” Barrera nodded his approval. “And I understand we’re entertaining a possible new customer this weekend?”
Ruben smiled. “Another reason to postpone the raid on the Albado house until tomorrow night. As I hoped, Gerard Moreau and his team are flying in this weekend, to the airport here. We’ll be having dinner with them here Friday night, then entertaining them on Saturday before taking them to the warehouses.”
“They want to see the fields, also,” Barrera reminded him. Moreau was going to be a high-value customer and deserved the full treatment.
“And he’ll get it.”
“I trust you’ll make sure this Melinda Clayton or whatever her name is will be under control by the time Moreau and his men get here?”
“That’s my goal. I am putting our best men on it.”
“We can’t let the nothing little bitch fuck things up. We have too good a thing going here.”
“I know,” Ruben agreed. “Trust me. I’ll take care of it.”
He left, and Barrera continued sitting in his chair, thinking. Breaking away from Sinaloa had been a very dangerous, calculated risk. If he hadn’t seen others do it, he might never have taken the chance. But now there were successful offshoots who in a way became extensions of Sinaloa. They assisted in the distribution of product, increasing their income as well with a nice percentage of the profits. He realized El Jefe could have gone to war with him over this, but the man had a head for business. Killing Barrera and his men wouldn’t have accomplished anything except to maybe discourage others from doing the same thing. But that might have impacted him economically. And he’d figured out a way to send the message that if anyone else wanted to try this, they’d better be methodical planners
and have their shit together, like Barrera did.
But all of it could come crashing down if that little bitch was more than what she pretended to be.
Chapter Six
They were at the hangar at eleven the next day, loading their gear while Saint did his preflight check. Rocket would have been happier leaving early in the morning, but Ed had told them they’d be better arriving in time for dinner and drinks, hanging out in the bar and talking about their upcoming fishing activities rather than sitting around with nothing to do for part of the day. He wanted them to establish themselves before they hooked up with him in the morning. They could check into the hotel, have dinner, relax in the bar and have a drink or two.
“I know I don’t have to tell you this,” Ed went on, “but establishing the image is important. And you have to talk about how eager you are to get out on the water early for fishing.”
Rocket had been tempted to tell Eagle to remind his SEAL friend that as a frogman who was a veteran of many covert missions, he knew how the hell to act when setting something up. But Ed didn’t know him any better than he knew Ed, and the guy was doing them a huge favor, so he kept his mouth shut.
“Mallory’s running out of time,” Rocket reminded him, “so whatever playacting we’re doing has to be fast.”
“Understood. But you’ve done this often enough to know that if you don’t set the stage then the play ends too quickly.”
Rocket knew that as well as anyone, but the op usually didn’t involve someone for whom he had developing feelings. Change that. Developed feelings.
“I’ll just casually drop that I have some fishing charters for the next couple of days and we’ll go from there.”
“In case I haven’t said it,” Rocket told him, “thanks for this.”
“Glad to do it. Barrera’s destroying this area, so anytime I can poke the air out of his balloon makes me happy.”