Sotello: Detective, ex-FBI, ex-Secret Service (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 1)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  Sotello’s statements were punctuated by cheers from a mixed crowd of onlookers, who now surrounded the little group.

  The blonde turned to Ellen. “You’re Ellen Sotello, are you not? What do you think of all this.”

  “I think you should go now, and report on what can happen to American citizens on their own property,” Ellen said quietly. “They assaulted my brother and Mr. Phillips, and broke into our place of business.”

  “You don’t think there was any justification then for the protestors who gathered here this morning?” The reporter persisted.

  “Only to the people who hate everything about America,” Ellen replied. “What justification can there be, when an organization condones injuring American citizens, and wrecking their property, because they disagree with the organization’s agenda?”

  Two emergency medical personnel walked up with their equipment in hand to look over Craig and Phillips. Sotello used the distraction to end the interview. The crowd around them applauded. Ellen followed his lead. The EM personnel looked over Ellen’s first aid on both Phillips and Craig.

  “Your son looks fine,” the older of the two men told Sotello. He looked to be in his middle twenties to Sotello, and it seemed he spent more time watching Ellen than he did checking her bandaging handy work. By his build, Sotello figured him for a smaller version of Tank, at least horizontally. His partner examined Phillips, looking for any sign of concussion.

  “We could take your son in though with us for observation,” The man stated. “We’ll need to take this other gentleman with us as a precaution.”

  “What about the demonstrators?” Sotello asked, trying to get a look back over the crowd.

  “Only the one on the ground even let us look at him, and I think that was because he was still groggy,” the young man answered. “The police gave him a choice of going with them or with us, and he chose to go with them. My partner speaks Spanish, and he explained it to him. He told my partner if he went with the police, he would be free in an hour. I asked the police to keep an eye on him in case he shows signs of further injury.”

  A microphone appeared near the man, and a familiar persistent voice spoke from around Sotello’s left side. “Will any of the demonstrators suffer any permanent injury from this incident?”

  Sotello whipped around, the rage showing nakedly in his face, as he controlled his impulse to scream at the young woman. Instead, he took Ellen by the arm and they walked over to where Craig watched the other Emergency Medical Tech check Phillips’ vital signs. Craig looked up at Sotello, grinning.

  “Well, I guess the lull in the action around here is over,” Craig observed.

  “They want to take you in for observation Craig,” Ellen told him.

  “I have to be in school in about an hour,” Craig replied. “I feel great. Mr. Phillips here still feels pretty bad though.”

  “They’re taking him for observation Number One,” Sotello told him. “Are you sure you don’t think you should go in just to be safe?”

  “I’m fine Dad,” Craig insisted. “You better saddle up for your TV interview. It’s getting late.”

  Sotello looked down at his watch, and then nodded in agreement. “You check in with me in a few hours, and let me know if you still feel okay. Don’t just laugh this off.”

  “I’ll call you,” Craig promised. He bent down and squeezed Phillips’ shoulder. “You take care Mr. Phillips.”

  “I will Craig,” Phillips said. He looked up around the man undoing the blood pressure gauge to talk to Sotello. “I better go in with these guys. I hate leaving you out on a limb like this, but I don’t feel too good.”

  Sotello bent down next to him, smiling to hide the concern he felt. “You don’t worry about me. Get to somewhere you can watch me on TV and settle in. I’ll come over and give you a blow by blow description of it afterwards.”

  “Keep the passion Jim,” Phillips told him, “but keep the temper in check, just like I saw you do with the woman reporter. Your face showed everything, without you having to say a word.”

  “I’ll watch out for myself,” Sotello promised, “but after this, I’m through with even the pretension of Mr. Nice Guy.”

  “I think when they see you in action on camera,” Phillips chuckled, “they will have no doubt about what to expect from you. Good luck.”

  Sotello put his hand over Phillips arm. “I will see you shortly.”

  “Count on it Governor,” Phillips quipped.

  Sotello stood up and motioned for Craig and Ellen to follow him inside of his office, where he closed the door and locked it. “You two take care. I know it would be insane to go to school packing, but at least bring the pepper spray and stun gun.”

  “You don’t have to tell us twice,” Ellen replied. “I’ll have my hand on it too.”

  “I’m sorry I got blindsided today,” Craig said. “When I saw Mr. Phillips go down the moment he walked through the door, I should have come and gotten you. It looked like I’d have a moment to pull him back inside, but the next thing I knew, I was on the floor.”

  “Even with all the crap I’ve seen,” Sotello said, shaking his head tiredly, “I never saw this coming. I’ll have to record that phrase pretty soon if I keep screwing up. I’m the one who should have went out with Phillips, Craig. I just had to take an extra moment to check how I would look on TV. Anyway, you quit beating yourself up, and I’ll forget my part in it, okay?”

  “Sounds good,” Craig agreed. “I guess we better start watching our cars more closely too, or someone will be doing some unauthorized tire and body work around here while we’re out of sight.”

  “Good point,” Sotello said. “Jesus, this keeps getting more and more complicated. Well, let’s go see how much more trouble we can get into today.”

  “I’m beginning to think perhaps Craig and I were a little short sighted in pushing you into this Dad,” Ellen said, hugging him.

  “No one pushes me into something I don’t want to do, honey,” Sotello told her. “You and Craig know that better than anyone. We wanted excitement, right? Well, here we are, and the excitement has only started. By the time this campaign ends, we’ll be scouring the rooftops for snipers, and searching our cars for bombs.”

  “Come on Sis,” Craig interrupted. “We better get out of here before Dad talks us into Kevlar and riot helmets.”

  “Ho, ho, ho, Number One,” Sotello said. “You are so funny, now beat it. Pop in a long running tape, and set it up for my interview before you go. I’ll decoy the ones still waiting, and talk to your Uncles while you two slip away. If we want to put those turds in jail, we will have to testify, and I want them in jail. I want them all to know I won’t just ignore this stuff.”

  “We’re with you on that,” Ellen said, “but how much you want to bet they will be out of the state by tomorrow morning?

  Sotello stood in silence for a moment. “I will address that problem with Tank and Jay when I’m out there. At least if they get fingerprinted and booked, we will nab the repeaters. I’ll see you two later. How about dinner with Darren and his daughter, if I can get in touch with them? My treat, of course.”

  “If a restaurant will let us in after all of this,” Craig joked.

  “We’ll come,” Ellen remarked. “Go on now, or you’ll be late.”

  “Wait about ten minutes, and then hustle on out of here,” Sotello instructed, as he shrugged on his suit coat and unlocked the door. The crowd had thinned out considerably, and the ambulance had taken the injured away, including Phillips. Tank and Jay led a squad of police in taking notes concerning the near riot. Sotello shook hands with many in the remaining crowd, who came up to him. Jay turned to meet him as Sotello walked up.

  “Craig okay?” Jay asked with concern. “I didn’t see him get in an ambulance.”

  “He wouldn’t go,” Sotello confirmed. “I think he will be fine. He said one minute he was trying to drag Phillips back in the office, and the next minute he was on the floor. When should
I see you about the paperwork, Jay?”

  “The end of the day will be fine,” Jay answered.

  “I heard they will be back on the street in an hour,” Sotello said.

  Jay laughed. “They don’t know the wheels of justice can grind a hell of a lot slower than they think sometimes. Word of what they did went back to the precinct with them. Lawyers arriving without invitation will be told to come back later.”

  “I have to take off to an interview,” Sotello said. “Want me to call them and cancel it?”

  “Hell no,” Jay answered quickly. “Stop over at the end of the day. We’ll straighten out the fine print then. Good luck Jim, I know you weren’t expecting anything like this. The interview may turn out to be more of the same.”

  “I see Tank’s busy, so tell him I said thanks, and to stop over for breakfast again tomorrow if you guys get a chance.”

  “I will,” Jay replied, as he went back to his interviews.

  Sotello drove carefully to the television studio, not wanting anything else to happen on an already nightmarish morning. The security staff checked his credentials at the door, and then one of them took him to meet up with his liaison for the show. They took him to makeup, where the person responsible for readying him for the show just shook her head at him.

  “No offense, Mr. Sotello,” she said smiling, “but I would have a better time making up another actor to look like you, for a mook role in a Godfather movie, rather than to try and turn you into an unblemished politician.”

  Sotello laughed. “Don’t worry about it. This won’t be a beauty contest.”

  “Yes, it will, my naïve little candidate,” the woman told him, “and Governor Davidson looks pretty good on camera.”

  “I’ve already been filmed this morning in all my glory, so if you make the scars disappear now, it will make me look pretty foolish. Can you do a minimum, so I can go on the show, but not enough to land me a part as a stand in for Tom Cruise?”

  “That,” she laughed, “will not be a problem.”

  Chapter 27

  On Camera

  The studio incorporated couches and plush chairs, rather than a desk, to separate the interviewer from the interviewee. The co-hosts sat next to each other, on the rather large couch, with a small table to hold their drinks and notes. Rachel Stevens projected a business like demeanor, with a dark blue matching skirt and top with white blouse. The darker colors enhanced her pale complexion. The black high heels, she kept clamped together in front of her, were medium range at the heel. She wore her brown hair tied back tightly away from her face. The fine lines around her mouth and eyes, which showed through the makeup, proved she could no longer pass for even her early thirties.

  Her partner, Johnny Denton, slouched slightly on the couch as he glanced at his notes. He sported a well-trimmed beard, on a sun lamp tanned face. His beard’s dark brown color matched the thinning hair he wore straight back. The obvious age of his face, even with the makeup artist’s help, leant credence to the rumor he kept both his hair and his beard dyed. He wore casual black slacks and tennis shoes. Underneath the black windbreaker, he wore a red, open-necked pullover shirt. He glanced up finally at his partner.

  “Did you see what this bumpkin Sotello did this morning?” Denton asked.

  “It looked to me like he kept his son and campaign manager from being hurt badly,” She replied. “How did it look to you?”

  “It looked like a case of overreaction to me,” Denton answered. “That face off in front of the building definitely went way overboard. He stood there asking for it.”

  “You certainly have taken an instant dislike to our soon to be guest,” Stevens said smiling. “They’ll be letting the audience in soon, so maybe you had better give me a heads up on what you plan on doing. I thought we were just going to ask him to clarify some of his positions, and then hit him with what’s going around for accusations.”

  “We will do all of that,” Denton confirmed. “I just want to ask Sotello what gives him the right to take the law into his own hands. He seems content to start a border war with Mexico.”

  “I’m not too comfortable with the tactics this La Raza uses,” Stevens remarked.

  “Anyway, we’ll play it just like we scripted,” Denton added, “but I will be looking to poke into the cracks along the way.”

  “Of course you will.”

  __

  Sotello stood quietly in the waiting area. For some reason, he did not feel nervous at all. After what he had been through already in his first morning of active candidacy, he decided to relax, and fire on when fired at. One of the assistant producers he had met earlier walked in.

  “We’re all ready for you Mr. Sotello,” she said smiling. “Just follow me.”

  “Ms. Kearney, right,” Sotello asked.

  “Call me Jane, Mr. Sotello,” she replied.

  Sotello nodded, and followed the woman down a hall, and into a studio, where they halted along the outskirts. He saw Denton and Stevens on their couch, in the midst of cameras and sound booms, trading light quips for the audience’s enjoyment. Stevens looked towards them, and saw Sotello was ready.

  “Wait for her cue, Mr. Sotello,” the assistant whispered, “just as we talked about.”

  “I will Jane,” Sotello promised. “Thank you.”

  “You won’t be thanking me later,” she whispered. “Be careful. I saw what you did this morning. It was awesome. Don’t let these two egocentric pinheads get to you.”

  Sotello laughed in surprise. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll survive. I’ve watched them in action before.”

  “There ain’t nothing like the real thing baby,” the assistant retorted knowingly, as she moved away.

  Sotello tapped her on the shoulder before she moved too far, and put out his hand. She took it with her free hand. “Good luck,” she whispered.

  He nodded, and then he heard his introduction begin.

  “We have a surprise for you folks,” Denton said, leaning forward on the couch.

  “Someone, you all may have just heard about,” Stevens added adroitly.

  “He opened his Gubernatorial campaign last night in Oakland, with some real bombshells,” Denton remarked.

  “Please welcome the Republican candidate for Governor of California, Mr. Jim Sotello,” Stevens finished. What happened next stunned both her and Denton, affecting their policy of surprise guests well into the future. When Sotello strode out in front of the audience, which numbered almost two hundred people, they exploded in applause and raucous cheers. Ten seconds later, with Sotello smiling and waving out at them, they were on their feet in a standing ovation. Stevens smiled over at Denton, who sat quietly fuming, as Sotello tried to calm the crowd down, thanking them for their support. Only minutes later, after Sotello shook hands with Stevens and Denton, as he took his seat across from them, did the crowd finally quiet down.

  “Well,” Stevens said. “I can’t remember a guest getting quite the reception you did today, Mr. Sotello.”

  “Please call me Jim,” Sotello said, as the crowd erupted again on a smaller scale.

  Rachel Stevens looked out over her audience. “I think I know what this may be about. You all saw the news clips of the protest over in front of Jim’s office, didn’t you?”

  Pandemonium reigned again for fifteen seconds, in acknowledgement of Steven’s correct guess. Denton started to speak a few times to get his show started, only to have to pause at the interruption of an audience, which he had always considered very liberal.

  “That was quite an exhibition you put on out there Jim,” Denton finally said over the quieting crowd noise. “Would you care to comment on it?”

  Sotello shrugged. “Not much to tell, which would make any sense. Instead of waiting for me to come out, and address their protest, they assaulted my campaign manager, Adrian Phillips. They then assaulted my son Craig, when he tried to pull Phillips back inside my office. They charged onto my premises, right over my son.”

  �
�I would hardly call it an assault Mr. Sotello,” Denton said, with some animation.

  “Well,” Sotello answered crisply, “you can talk all day about what the word is, is, but what the representatives of La Raza did is considered assault in this country, and I threw them out, while my daughter Ellen called the police.”

  The crowd reacted with loud applause again.

  “You were going out to confront them when they barged in?” Stevens asked.

  “Yes, I thought it might be just a bunch of people wanting some direct answers, and I was heading out to give them some,” Sotello answered. “They did not come to ask questions. They came to intimidate.”

  “You felt in fear of your life then?” Denton asked. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  “Not at all,” Sotello answered. “I’m too old to fear for my safety. I’ve been around the block a few times. Only one thing strikes fear in me: danger to my children. La Raza found out today what will happen if they endanger my family.”

  Again, the crowd erupted with applause. A few in the audience began pumping their fists, and chanting his name.

  “Do you feel La Raza poses a real danger to California?” Stevens asked.

  “It depends on how you feel about a group, working on behalf of foreign nationals, advocating the annexation of the Southwestern portion of the United States,” Sotello answered. “Some folks would call that freedom of speech. I call it treason.”

  Stevens and Denton both gasped, as the crowd cheered wildly. Although a few members of the audience had stood up, and left the area, a diverse group of people still remained, and they liked what Sotello had to say. Denton cut to a commercial break, as the audience continued to applaud.

  Denton kept his eyes fixed on the notes lying in front of him on the table, as Stevens wrote comments in a notebook. Some in the crowd called out to Sotello, and waved to him during the break. Sotello waved back at them, hoping the encouragement would continue. Maybe, he thought as he watched Denton, not everyone in this state hated America. The ushers had rushed in at the break to make sure no one approached the stage area. They retreated, moments later. Stevens received her cue, and a silent count from her producer.