The Prosecution of General Hastings

by A. A. MacQueen

CHAPTER SIX

  The digital clock on the table next to Kincaid’s bed read ‘1:37.’ For reasons having to do with his line of work, he was a very light sleeper and therefore was wide awake the instant that he heard the vibrations of his cell phone. He checked the digital display for a Caller I.D. and didn’t recognize the number. He pushed the side button to route the call to voice mail. At 1:38 he had not gotten back to sleep when again he heard the vibrations. He slid out of bed, taking care not to disturb Penny Lane, who was sleeping comfortably next to him under maroon satin sheets. She had given him the sheets calling them a housewarming gift after her first sleepover.

  He walked barefoot through his living room and into the kitchen guided by the blue lights of the digital readout on the coffee maker. He turned on the kitchen light and answered the call in a less than welcoming fashion, “This better be good. Who’s calling?”

  “Is this Kincaid? Harry Kincaid?” It was a man’s voice, low key and confident sounding on the other end.

  “Who wants to know… at one thir-ty-nine in the morning?” he asked, enunciating each syllable of the number.

  “My name is Von Karmenn… Phil Von Karmenn. I’m Pete Von Karmenn’s brother.”

  “Yeah? This is Kincaid. Couldn’t we have picked a better time to meet?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, Harry. Really, I am. I’ve been calling ever hour pretty much all night. Left a couple of messages…” The apology sounded sincere.

  Kincaid thought back, replaying the evening. He and Penny had split from Annie and Bobby after dinner at Chez d’Artagnan. They went for a nightcap at a little club within walking distance of Harry’s place. Then he recalled getting back to the apartment sometime around eleven o’clock and Penny’s enthusiasm, expressing her delight at his homecoming after the two week separation. He smiled thinking about it. No wonder I didn’t hear the phone, he thought.

  “No harm done, Phil. What can I do for you?” he asked.

  “Pete’s wife called me tonight. She said she had called you, too,” he answered.

  “Yeah, I spoke to her around six o’clock, I think.”

  “She said she called asking for your help,” Phil said. “About Pete’s death and some money due?”

  “She did,” Harry answered. “And, I’m glad she did. I thought the world of Pete. I’m happy to help Carol any way I can.”

  “Well, Harry, I hope you’re sitting down…”

  “Why?”

  “Pete’s not dead,” Phil Von Karmenn said.

  Harry had reached the refrigerator and was midway through pouring himself a glass of milk. He set the milk container down. “You want to run that by me one more time?”

  “Pete’s not dead, Harry. We’ve been in touch for several weeks. I’m not sure how much you know about Talon, Pete’s employer but he was sent down to Mexico about a month ago. He concluded his business one night and went back to his hotel. He was supposed to return the next day. His hotel room took a Molotov cocktail at three o’clock in the morning. It was huge.”

  Harry finished pouring the milk and pulled down an opened bag of Oreo cookies from the cabinet over the refrigerator. “So, what happened to Pete?” he asked.

  “My brother always made a habit of changing rooms after he checked into hotels. Said there was no reason to make himself easy to find. When he got back to this fleabag dump he was staying in, he made a deal with the night clerk and switched to a room on the other end of the motel. Some poor bastard checked in later and got Pete’s original room. The night clerk probably pocketed the rent from the other guy because the records still showed Pete in the room that got bombed.”

  Munching one of the Oreos, Harry asked, “So, why the big secret?”

  “A couple of reasons. How much do you know about General Jack Hastings?” asked Phil.

  “Some, but not much. Fill me in,” Harry answered, taking a drink of milk.

  “Hastings convinced Pete to hook up with him in forming the Talon Group. They had worked together on some special ops when Hastings was involved with JSOC, an interagency group that ran black ops. Hastings liked Pete,” Phil said.

  “Who wouldn’t?” Harry responded. “Pete was damn good at what he did.”

  “Hastings wanted to form a company like yours… security and operational ‘consulting,’” said Phil.

  “Naw. We’re in the import-export business,” Harry mumbled, garbled with a mouth full of cookie.

  “Yeah. Right. Anyway, Hastings was going to get the contracts and Pete was going to fulfill them. If they needed outside help, Pete knew guys he could pull in on a contract basis. They were going to work in Mexico first where Hastings had government contacts from his time there in the embassy as military attaché. So, Hastings pulls off an arms sale and sends Pete down there…”

  “Whoa,” Harry stopped chewing. “Arms sale? To who?”

  “The sale was to the Mexican State of Sonora,” Phil continued. “Hastings got the deal through some contact he had in Mexico City. So Pete goes down to Hermosillo, the state capital to get the funds transferred and arranges shipment.”

  “So, were these guns going to the state militia, or who?” asked Harry. He noisily withdrew another Oreo from the cellophane bag.

  “This part gets a little sticky. Pete says the guns were to be used by Mexican soldiers against the Sinaloa Cartel.”

  “Sinaloa. Yeah, I’ve heard of them,” said Harry, chewing. “Big time drug traffickers into the U.S.” Another drink of milk.

  “The baddest guys in the business. They only shipped two hundred tons of cocaine into the U.S. last year, and just about as much heroine. Enough marijuana to cover Nebraska. They also deal in human trafficking. They send men, women, and children over the border, for a fee. Then they turn on them when they get here. They have no compunction about killing the men, raping the women, and turning the kids into drug mules.” Pete paused letting what he had said sink in.

  “Geez,” said Harry. Another Oreo.

  “More than that,” he continued, “the Sinaloa Cartel has worked directly with terrorists aligned with al Qaeda, the Muslim Brotherhood, and Islamic Jihad. They’ve smuggled known cell members across our border through their same infiltration routes. No telling what those guys are bringing with them.” Phil paused. He had to ask, “What are you eating?”

  “Oreos,” said Harry.

  “Hmmm.” Phil continued, “Anyway, I said it got sticky. Pete finds out that the guns are actually going to be funneled to the Matamoros Cartel, a deadly enemy of the Sinaloans. Now, the Matamoros Cartel isn’t a bunch of choirboys. They are in the drug business, too and in an on-going turf war with Sinaloa. Hastings tells Pete that the U.S. Government is okay with the deal since the arms are going to fight the cartel that is causing us the most harm.” Phil paused again.

  Harry had stopped chewing. “The U.S. Government is okay with selling arms that go to a Mexican drug cartel that is actively shipping across our borders?”

  “There’s an old Arabic proverb …,” Phil began.

  “‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend,’” said Harry.

  “Exactly. This is very similar to what went on in Afghanistan back in the ‘80s. We were furnishing weapons to the ‘freedom fighters’ to help them defeat the Russians. Those same fighters today are known as the Taliban. Ironic, huh?” asked Phil.

  “Yeah. So, what happened with Pete?” Harry asked, heavily munching another Oreo.

  “He completes the deal. His government contact is a guy named Miguel Sanchez and they kind of hit it off. The shipment is coming from a company called Mesquite Manufacturing. While he’s working with Sanchez on the documents, it slips out that Hastings owns Mesquite.”

  “Are you shitting me?” Kincaid was shocked. “What a deal. He’s making money on both ends?”

  Phil continued, “Of course Sanchez figured Pete knew it so Pete didn’t tell him any different. As soon as he gets done and away from Sanchez, Pete calls Hastings.”

  “And…
?” Harry pours more milk.

  “Hastings gets all tongue-tied and tells Pete he’ll explain everything when he gets back. That night Pete’s hotel room blows up.” Phil cleared his voice. “Wish I had one of those Oreos.”

  “Where’s Pete now?” asked Harry.

  “He’s laying low. He’s pretty convinced that Hastings was behind the bombing and is letting him think it worked.” Phil fell silent and let Kincaid digest the story.

  Harry’s mind was churning. This story was a lot to accept. A retired American Army officer, a general no less, was trafficking guns to a sketchy Mexican outfit and probably making big bucks doing it. Further, Harry couldn’t imagine that the U.S. Government would allow it.

  “So, what’s Pete’s plan? And why doesn’t Carol know he’s alive?” Harry asked.

  “Pete’s sure that Carol couldn’t keep the secret if she knew. She’s been badgering Hastings so much over the last couple of weeks that he has stopped taking her calls. We know that Hastings has filed a claim with Lloyds’ Chicago office for the death benefit. So, he believes Pete is dead. But he has told Carol that everything is held up pending proof of death from the Mexican authorities. That’s probably true.”

  “So, again,” asked Harry, “what’s the plan?”

  “Pete tells me you’ve got some friends in pretty high places. He’d be willing to pay handsomely if you could get into this and find out if Hastings might be telling the truth about the sale being legit with our government. If it is, Pete can resurface and deal directly with Hastings. If it isn’t, we’ve got to blow the whistle on him.” Phil heard more rattling of cellophane.

  “That could take some doing,” Harry said. “But let me make a few calls and see what I can turn up. In the meantime, what about Carol? I’ve got a lead on a lawyer in Oklahoma City I’d like to put her in touch with. It sounds to me like Hastings is giving her the runaround. At least a lawyer can put some pressure on him.”

  “That would be great, Harry. I assume you’ve got Carol’s number?” Phil asked.

  “Yeah, I do.” Then Harry switched gears. “I didn’t know Pete had a brother.”

  “Yup. I’m three years younger. I’m a staff sergeant with the Fifth Special Forces Group at Fort Bragg,” he said. Harry knew that it would be easy enough to check out Phil Von Karmenn.

  “You mean your momma raised two of you blood thirsty snake eating warmongers?” Harry asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” Phil laughed. “Look, Carol said you were going to send her some money.”

  “I am. As soon as the banks open on Monday. She sounded like she could use it,” Harry said.

  “Well, you don’t need to support Carol. Pete put away some money that Carol isn’t aware of. He and I plan to open up a guide service up in Wyoming one of these days and we’ve got a few bucks set aside for it. He wasn’t hiding it from her intentionally, but she doesn’t know about it. We can reimburse you for whatever you send her,” Phil said.

  “I wasn’t worried about losing money on Pete Von Karmenn,” Harry said.

  “I know you weren’t, and once this little misunderstanding with Hastings is cleared up, it won’t be an issue.” said Phil. “Pete has told me a lot about you. Wishes he had hooked up with your outfit when he went with Hastings. I talked to him earlier tonight and he told me to bring you up to speed. I’m sure he’ll contact you himself when he feels like he can.”

  “Tell him to contact me any time. And tell him that we’ve still got a place for him when we gets all this worked out,” said Harry.

  “Will do. Sorry to bother you,” Phil said. “I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing,”

  “No problem. Sleep is greatly overrated anyway.” He hung up the phone and finished off the glass of milk he had poured while listening to the remarkable story of Pete Von Karmenn as told by his brother.

  He went back into the bedroom and slid into the bed beside Penny. She stirred slightly then turned over to face him. “Have you been gone again?” she cooed.

  “Yeah, I guess I have,” he answered.

  “Well I guess I should welcome you home again, huh?” she giggled. She kissed him, lightly at first. “Mmmmm,” she breathed. “Oreos.”