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

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “Damn Gov, we thought you’d never get here,” Ray said smiling, as he took the bag from Sotello. There were a chorus of muffled hellos from the back of the van, as Ray had the bag torn from his grasp.

  “Cold enough for you guys?” Sotello said, the fog of his breath making the question moot.

  “It ain’t Florida, but at least it ain’t Minnesota either,” Ray replied. “Any morning quotes for today Gov. I’ll grab my camera, and get Julie up here to pretend like she has a question.”

  Sotello laughed. “Let me think about it while I take Tinker for a walk. If I come up with anything newsworthy, I’ll stop on the way into the house. I guess not getting murdered in my sleep doesn’t sell newspapers, or fill up air time, huh?”

  “Not hardly,” Ray admitted.

  “There’s enough of you guys around,” Sotello pointed out. “We could just stage an attack. You know, like a wild west show.”

  “Stop if you come up with something Gov,” Ray said laughing.

  Sotello waved his assent, and started into a fast walk, with Tinker trekking happily by his side. Ray watched Sotello for a moment before his news lead Julie handed him a cup of coffee. “You know, I hope that guy gets elected.”

  “What!” Julie exclaimed, almost dumping the coffee in Ray’s lap. “You could not have said what I just heard. This coffee must be rotting your gray matter. Get a grip.”

  Ray took the coffee mug from her hands, and took a sip. “I’m not kidding. This guy’s real. He don’t bring us coffee and donuts every morning because he’s sucking up. He knows the first chance we get to bury him, we’ll use a steam shovel. Sotello does it because he can. Davidson wouldn’t take the time to spit on us if this were his house.”

  “You’ve gone around the bend chum,” Julie said, taking a bite of the glazed donut she had chosen from the bag. Sotello’s just a big show. If he weren’t a xenophobic racist, they wouldn’t be trying to kill him.”

  “You sound like those morons who kept blaming themselves because the terrorists flew planes into our buildings,” Ray fired back. “Sotello’s ideas might make California a hell of a lot safer. I…”

  “Never mind,” Julie snapped. “Just have your camera ready when he gets back from walking that hairball with legs.”

  “He said he would give us something if he thinks of it while he’s walking the dog,” Ray told her. “Don’t piss him off, or you’ll be like that other dimwit he freezes out every time he sees her.”

  “Now we have to let the subject dictate the story we’re doing?”

  “If you’re smart, you do,” Ray replied. “But knowing you, the station will have to send out a new press pool to stay with him, because you couldn’t keep your bias under control.

  “My bias? Why you…”

  “Stifle yourself, Jules,” Ray said, turning away. “It’s too early in the morning for your crap. Do what you want.”

  Julie began to say something else, but thought better of it. She disappeared back into the van, and picked up Ray’s camera assembly, while the others continued with their breakfast. She took it back up to the front of the van, and set it near Ray. He glanced down, and then shook his head in disgust. He saw Sotello returning from the opposite direction at a fast pace. Sotello came towards the van, instead of going up into his house. Ray rolled down his window again.

  “You come up with something Gov?”

  “I thought I’d get the FBI agent, I have guarding me to give you an interview. We can go over some of the precautions we have to go through. Because she’s a female, I thought it might make for a good break in the same old stuff.”

  “Let me run it by Julie. I’ll…”

  “Mr. Sotello,” Julie interrupted, coming back in front with Ray. “You mean to exploit a woman in the FBI, to get a positive sound byte? Couldn’t you come up…”

  “Hold on, young lady,” Sotello said, as his face turned into the grim mask he presented to the press, when attacked. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’d like you to ask Agent Sykes whether she gets exploited on this detail. If I were you, and the bit I outlined sounds feasible, I would ask Agent Sykes some intelligent questions. If you try to sneak in some cheap shots, you’ll be wishing you were back harassing me.”

  “My name’s Julie Rhoades. I am only saying Mr. Sotello, I will not be used,” Rhoades fired back. “We ask the questions any way we want. You will not be scripting any of our broadcasts.”

  “If Agent Sykes wishes, we will be ready in a half an hour,” Sotello said, with a grin forming around his mouth. “If you would like to set up by the front porch, I’ll go see if she wants to do it. If she doesn’t, I’ll still come out, and let you take a couple of cheap shots at me this morning.”

  Ray laughed, as Sotello turned back to his house, before Julie could say anything else. “I told you.”

  “By the time I get done with his FBI shadow girl, he’ll wish he had never woke up.”

  “You better do it the way he wants,” Ray advised.

  “Why? Do you think he’ll order her to say what he wants her to?”

  “No, I’ve met this Sykes,” Ray replied. “She don’t take shit from anybody. I saw a camera crew from Channel 4 try to block Sotello’s way from his house a couple of days ago. She cleared them off his walk so fast, I thought they were on rollers.”

  “Just watch me Ray,” Rhoades said knowingly. “I’ll use that to show she’s just a toady for Sotello. Now let’s go.”

  Ray sighed, and picked up his gear from next to the seat.

  Sotello led the way out of the house. The camera crew had set up so as to give them just enough room on the front step to come out and face the camera. Rhoades, with mike in hand, took up the lead position on the upper step of Sotello’s stoop. Dressed in his usual dark gray, three piece suit, Sotello held the door, while Sykes came out to stand next to him. She wore a conservative, navy blue dress, with black medium heeled pumps. Her purse, strapped over her right shoulder, hung just below waist level, within easy reach of her right hand. Sykes’ hair, tied back away from her face, enhanced the angular, no nonsense look she projected.

  “This is Special Agent, Janice Sykes,” Sotello introduced her. “She was assigned to accompany me after the attempted homocide bombing at the Mark Hopkins Hotel, and acts as my liaison to the Terrorist Detail assigned to the case. She has permission from the FBI detail leader to cover some aspects of what she does.”

  “Agent Sykes,” Rhoades began. “Who did you vote for in the last couple of elections for President?”

  “What kind of…” Sykes paused for a moment. “Okay, I voted for Clinton once, and Gore this last election. I…”

  “You’re a Democrat?” Rhoades asked, taken aback at the answer.

  “I like to think of myself as an Independent, but I do vote mostly Democratic,” Sykes replied.

  “Do you take orders from Mr. Sotello?” Rhoades asked, as she tried to regain her composure after not getting the answer she wanted to her first question.

  “He doesn’t issue any to me,” Sykes answered, “But I am only required to answer to my boss.”

  “But isn’t it true, Mr. Sotello here calls the shots as to what you do?” Rhoades persisted.

  “Actually, he hands me the itinerary for the day ahead, and I suggest precautions we should take. If I think we will be too exposed, we talk over alternative ways to get where he wants to go.”

  “As a Democrat, many of Mr. Sotello’s positions must grate on your sensibilities,” Rhoades said, as if it were a fact. “It must be a chore at times to be assigned to someone with such right wing leanings.”

  “We do not get into political discussions,” Sykes said. “I must admit though, I find myself agreeing with most of his positions. In light of the enemies he seems to be drawing to him, I…”

  “Don’t you think it’s those very positions which have put his life in danger needlessly?” Rhoades interrupted.

  “How do you mean needlessly?” Sykes asked puzzle
d. “You mean because he states what he believes in, he deserves to die? Are you aware we are at war with the very people taking an interest in killing Mr. Sotello?”

  “So,” Rhoades said smugly, “You do admire him.”

  “I respect his professionalism,” Sykes replied, “and his dedication. What exactly are you driving at here? Mr. Sotello thought you would be interested in some of the security measures we have put into place…”

  “I am actually more interested in the waste of taxpayers’ dollars, poured into security measures, surrounding events which could have been avoided,” Rhoades said, zeroing in for the kill.

  “Lady, what planet have you been on?” Sykes replied, anger starting to creep into her voice. “Mr. Sotello made an honest living before he decided to run for governor. At least he never stalked people for a living, like some parasitic leach, Ms. Rhoades, like you have.”

  “How dare you…” Rhoades blustered, as she signaled for the camera to be turned off. Too late, she realized Ray was not the only one filming, and taping the interview. Rhoades tried to calm down as she returned her attention to Sykes, who looked at her with open malice. Sotello stepped in closer to Agent Sykes.

  “Ah, I think that will be all for now,” Sotello said, before Rhoades could start again. “I have an appointment to meet with my campaign manager this morning, concerning the debate I will probably have with Governor Davidson one day soon.”

  Sotello began to descend from the top of his front walk, when Rhoades stepped in his path. Sykes moved around him in an instant, leaning close to Rhoades. “Yes Ms. Rhoades, please continue to block Mr. Sotello’s path.”

  Rhoades looked into Sykes cold, cobalt blue eyes, and the fury there swept over her like something almost tangible. She stepped back down off the step and to the side, as the news crowd parted hurriedly before Sotello, as Sykes led the way to Sotello’s old Dodge. She used the remote control to open the garage door, revealing the vintage car.

  “You know Jim,” Sykes complained, “I can’t lead a dignified getaway in a huff, when we have to exit in this piece of crap on wheels.”

  Sotello laughed, as he stepped ahead of Sykes, and opened the passenger door for her. When she hesitated, he clapped his hand to his forehead. He closed the passenger door again, and walked around the car. “Sorry, I forgot.”

  Sotello backed the car out after it started without a hitch. Sykes kept an eye out as the car backed down Sotello’s driveway, and into the street. The news crew had kept filming, but no one approached the car. Sotello stopped when he had the Dodge facing the way they needed to go. Sykes walked down and eased into the passenger seat beside Sotello.

  “I won’t do that to you again,” Sotello promised. “I like the cameraman on Rhoades’ detail. I thought she would just ask you some questions about security, and save the cheap shots for me.”

  “I’m not mad,” Sykes replied, “But I think I will hear about this from Hank. He thought the FBI would get some good press, and instead they got me.”

  “It was my fault, and I’ll tell him so,” Sotello said. “You handled yourself pretty well.”

  “I’ve been watching your daughter Ellen handle some of these folks in the press,” Sykes informed him, with a smiling sideways glance. “The direct approach works for her, because she keeps her temper in check. I guess I need to watch a little closer.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Sotello insisted. “El was born to handle those people. She will be my press secretary if I get elected, and can talk her into it. Just for the record, I’m much worse than you, and the direct approach does work to keep them off balance. If they think they can cheap shot at will, these unavoidable press meetings will turn into feeding frenzies.”

  Chapter 39

  Developing Relationships

  They drove on in a comfortable silence for some time.

  “How do you feel, by the way?” Sotello asked.

  “Better, since the aspirin,” Sykes said.

  “Good, because we have a long day ahead again.”

  “Will Craig be going along?” Sykes asked innocently.

  “Are you kidding?” Sotello sighed. “He would have slept at the end of your bed if I had let him.”

  “I like him too,” Sykes laughed. “I have a few years on him though.”

  “Yea, well if it doesn’t bother you, I know it won’t bother him.”

  “I thought it might bother you,” Sykes said candidly.

  “Put your mind at ease, Jan,” Sotello said seriously. “I have no idea what you and Craig have in mind, but the matter of your character will never be a problem. I thought May Lin had Craig’s number for a while there. He had never, up to that time, ever asked if a stranger could come and spend the holidays with us. Since meeting you, he cooled to the idea, and I think May Lin picked up on it. The fact you stay at my house probably has something to do with it, but the election will be over before the holidays.”

  “His eyes still light up when he talks about Ms. Lin,” Sykes said thoughtfully. “I wondered if he had planned on asking her to come back for the holidays, since, as you say, the election will be over.”

  “He did, but they decided a long distance friendship would be more in order. Did you have plans for the holidays?” Sotello asked.

  “My Mom and Dad asked me to come back home for the holidays in Pennsylvania, if I could get the time off. I still haven’t let them know yet.”

  “Family’s important,” Sotello said. “Although I never pressure them into it, Ellen and Craig have always been around for the holidays. After 9/11, I had a hard time convincing Craig not to enlist in the Marines the day after. Ellen felt the same way, but I explained how much more someone can do as an officer. They reluctantly agreed not to rush off without thinking, and it’s not because I think the grunts don’t contribute. Hell, I was one, but one of them might like the service enough to make a career out of it, and a career in the service will always be better as an officer. Anyway, I figured there would be many missed holidays after 9/11. I have vowed to take the time to make as many holidays as I can, year round, from now on.”

  “It must be tough for any parent in these times,” Sykes replied. “I know my folks worry about me, but I also have two older sisters who live near them. They’re already married, with kids, so my folks have their hands full anyway.”

  “Grandkids in these goofy times would even be more scary,” Sotello put in. “Being any kind of parent nowadays will make you crazy, but we have it a lot better than Israel, where Hamas and the rest of those whacko terrorist groups raise suicide bombers from the cradle. Nothing seems like it will ever be normal there.”

  “Do you think Craig will ask me to stay after the election?”

  “I would not even think of speaking for him,” Sotello answered. “You must like him more than I thought.”

  Sykes blushed, and Sotello smiled as he glanced over at her. “Sorry Jan, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I try not to pry into his plans, or his life, unless he asks me for an opinion. He has not asked my opinion on anything since he floated the May Lin trial balloon about the holidays.”

  “I never met anyone like your son,” Sykes admitted. “He is so funny, and yet can turn dead serious in an instant.”

  “Ellen and I think of him as our walking home entertainment system,” Sotello acknowledged.

  “You’ve done a great job raising your kids.”

  “Thank you,” Sotello replied. “My wife made her mark on them, and I managed to finish the job with some success. They have really made me proud over the last couple of months. Their decision-making improves faster than any father could hope for. I’m sure your folks are very proud of you.”

  Sykes nodded. “They would have preferred I go into a safer career, but they understand.”

  “They probably realize how terrible going into a career you hate can be. Are you happy with the FBI?”

  “At first, everything from sharpening pencils to getting in a government car, made my heart
pound. As my duties have become more structured, I have occasional moments where I wonder what I want to do further down the line.” Sykes paused for a moment before continuing. “It’s just that I have watched Hank closely. All the politics involved, even after 9/11, make my teeth ache.”

  “All jobs have days where you wish you had done something else,” Sotello said. “Both of my kids have expressed an interest in the FBI. They know why I finally left, and the reasons were similar to what you described.”

  “You went on to the Secret Service. Did you like the change?”

  “At first I did,” Sotello replied. “I only thought I knew what boredom was, until I transferred to the Secret Service.”

  Sykes laughed. “I take it you did not scout the job before changing, huh?”

  “Nope,” Sotello admitted. “I figured things could only improve. I thought the Secret Service was not political. I ended up painting myself in a corner. When the opportunity came up to go into business out here, I jumped on it.”

  “No regrets?”

  “Not a one,” Sotello replied without hesitation. “You met the two black police officers, Jay and Tank, at the barbeque. They are as close to blood brothers as I will ever get, and I would have never met them if I had not opened my own agency. Their families make up the only extended family my kids have ever had.”

  “I didn’t get a chance to meet everyone, but it looked like you know a whole lot of cops,” Sykes remarked. “Who was that stocky guy, with the butch hair cut next to you most of last night?”

  “That was Pete,” Sotello replied, smiling. “He and I go way back too. I’m glad I finally was able to introduce him to Jay and Tank. Last night was the best reunion I’ve had in a long while. I’m sorry your night came to an early end on the Zombie trail.”

  “I asked you not to mention that word to me again,” Sykes said, covering her eyes with both hands.

  “Ah, you liberals sure know how to party.”