“I told you I thought it was the XZite pills. Even Andrade found out too late it was a biological weapon.”
Declan was confused. “Wait a minute. Back up. It wasn’t Andrade who sent the bioweapon?”
Claudette laughed bitterly. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. I’m in deep shit. I think I’m being set up.” Her eyes stared at him beseechingly. “You have to help me.”
“Always thinking of saving your ass,” he snarled. “Never even thinking about the people who might die or get hurt as long as you get your way.”
“I didn’t know.”
Declan laughed derisively. “Ignorance isn’t an excuse. You need to be in jail for the baby switch alone and all the lives you’ve ruined by putting people in Ortega’s path.”
“Well?” Her mouth flattened and her face had a closed-off look that said she wouldn’t budge if he didn’t help her. Or tried to at least.
“Look, I may have contacts, but nothing short of giving me information on where to find Ortega or this bioweapon is going to buy you safe passage out of the States.”
“I can do that.” A look of relief came over her face. Did she think she was going to get away with it?
“I want immunity first,” she said.
Well, fuck me. Maybe she’s not as dumb as she lets on.
“I don’t have that power.”
“Yes, you do. You work for the CIA,” she smiled. “Never underestimate me, Declan.”
“I may have worked for them once.”
“I’m not talking unless I get immunity. Also, I want to get out of this country as soon as possible.”
“You can’t make demands unless you give me something, so start talking.”
She told him everything. What happened that night, how the baby switch happened and a possible, current location of Ortega.
“This is what’s gonna happen,” Declan managed to say, even when the promise of the ultimate answers was looming. He looked back to where her bodyguards were idling in their SUV. “I’m gonna take your Explorer and go to the clinic you mentioned, the one in Van Nuys. You better make that call. If homeboy doesn’t give me any actionable intel, I can’t go to bat for your immunity.”
“What should I do then?”
“Go back to our house in Brentwood. I’ll give Levi a heads up.”
“Why should I go there? Can’t I just go ahead and find a safe place to hide out and then call you?”
“Because I don’t trust you. And it’s not because I can’t find you, because like you suspected I know people who can. But I don’t want to get pissed off at you any further by wasting my time looking for you.”
They got out of the Porsche which prompted her bodyguards to get out as well. Declan took a good look at them. South African mercenaries if he were to guess. Blond, built, Dolph Lungdren wanna-bes down to the buzz cut and spiked hair. Claudette informed the one driving to give up the keys. As she and the two guys walked back to the Porsche, Declan called out, “Oh, and Claudette, please don’t piss Gabby off.”
“I never …”
“Just. Don’t.”
Claudette gave an offended huff, and with chin held high, climbed into the luxury vehicle.
Declan got into the Explorer. He had some calls to make.
11
The Gangs and Homicide Division was located in an old square building on 77th street near the 101. A task force was formed in response to problems in information sharing when crimes crossed lines from gangs into narcotics, vice into homicide, and all other possible combinations. Because of its proven efficacy, the task force was converted into a division. Not everyone was happy with this move because other individual tables were territorial about GHD encroaching on their turf.
GHD was comprised of two teams—Bravo and Charlie. Gabby belonged to Charlie team which was made up of six detectives. An administrative staff included an adjutant, watch officer, crime analyst, clerk and a liaison officer who supported all the teams. Captain Mitchell oversaw the entire division.
When Gabby and Kelso arrived in the squad room, the area was buzzing with activity.
She spotted Lt. Chen who was the officer-in-charge after Mitchell, who was currently talking to his partner Detective Delgado. The other detective pair was off the watch.
“What’s going on?” Kelso asked. “Is the captain in?”
“He’s on his way back from his meeting with the mayor,” Chen looked at Gabby. “Aren’t you supposed to be on leave, Woodward?”
“I was getting cabin fever,” she quipped.
“You sure wouldn’t want to miss this fun, white girl,” Delgado piped in. “Your hunch on Our Lady of Lourdes Clinic hit pay dirt. Nadia is out and about in the Valley doing another surveil for the suits on Bravo team and hopped over a couple of blocks to Van Nuys. And guess who joined us?”
Gabby’s heart was thumping. “Well don’t keep me in suspense, homie.”
“Ariana Ortega,” Delgado chortled. “She’s doing some of her charity work in the OLL clinic.”
Her heart sank. It wasn’t that Ariana wasn’t important, but she was easily accessible at her Beverly Hills vitamin juice spa. “You think she’s scheduled to give ole bro his vitamin boost?”
“Possible,” Kelso said. “It’s around the time he should be getting his next chemo round. We fucked up the last time when we thought it was down in South Central, but recent intel is pointing to the Valley. Maybe in one of the clinics.”
“Problem is Guzman from Bravo went undercover in that clinic the last time Ariana was there six weeks ago and nothing was out of the ordinary,” Delgado said.
“He did? Why weren’t we informed?” she demanded.
“Beats me. It was on the shared division database when I pulled up what we had on the clinic,” the Hispanic detective replied.
Just then, their captain walked in. “Tell me good news, people. Nadia just informed me that Ortega’s sister is at the clinic. Do we have enough intel to investigate?”
Nadia Powell was their crime and forensic analyst. She wore several hats. After the fentanyl attacks, she’d been reassigned from the Criminalistics Laboratory to work for the GHD full-time. Her state-of-the-art lab was located in the adjacent room, a bit out of place in the old building, but it had the necessary equipment such as a glove box to isolate a toxin. She also had the technical skills for analyzing trigger devices. The ones used in the shopping mall attack was pressure activated similar to stepping on a landmine.
“Might be a good idea to walk in, look around,” Gabby said. “I could go in with Delgado. Less suspicious. If we see any of Ortega’s associates hanging around, he should be close by. We hear he never goes months without seeing his sister and our intel is telling us, he is due.”
“You should be resting, Gabby,” Kelso said.
“I’m already here and I don’t care if this sounds personal. I’m sure he was the one who attacked us last Monday.”
Delgado grinned at her partner and Chen. “You know you can’t stop Woodward. Concussion or not.” Then he turned his eyes on Gabby. “You sure you’re up for this, white girl?”
“Just try and stop me,” she replied.
The drive to the Valley was uneventful, but it was laced with trepidation. She’d made this drive regularly and had no idea why this time was different. The San Fernando Valley had seen a surge of gang-on-gang violence in recent years. Studies showed it was mainly turf wars due to the rise in the drug trade, prostitution, and sale of illegal weapons. For Gabby it was so much more. It was the place where her young dreams died, and the place where she rose up from their ashes.
This was her city and she would continue to fight for it and, try, as much as possible, to make it safe for the citizens of Los Angeles. That was her oath when she graduated from the academy.
She looked at Kelso, who was driving their department-issued Suburban. He was unusually quiet, his jawline tense, lost in his own thoughts. Rather than engage him in conversation, she let her eyes take i
n the diverse skyline of Los Angeles as their SUV traversed the 101.
The City of Angels.
A city of ten million souls.
And they were its guardians.
Buildings rose high and low. The smog the city was known for was surprisingly missing today and yet the traffic was the usual. Cars crawled at a snail’s pace— impatient drivers, blaring horns, and road rage—just another day in LA. Neighborhoods so different from one zip code to the next. From the luxuries of Beverly Hills to the graffitied walls of Van Nuys.
A sigh escaped Kelso when he took the exit for the Valley. Under the overpass, the marks of the gangs were painted on full display. There were four hundred gangs just in Los Angeles. Major groups splintered into smaller ones and spread, but someone held them all in the palm of his hand.
Ortega.
His connections to the cartels and arms dealers were making this possible but allegiances shifted all the time. The power struggles, and his rumored cancer, sent the crime boss into hiding. There was another rumor that he’d arranged for Ariana to marry a cartel boss, cementing their alliance, but she was resistant to the plans and was under heavy guard.
They turned from Haynes Street onto Van Nuys, passing commercial streets with more short-term and long-term storage companies and warehouses per mile of road than any other area in LA. The scenery turned into single-story homes like bungalows. Barred windows and gates to yards held warnings saying the “property was protected by Smith and Wesson.”
Yep, they were in the Valley.
A couple of nondescript vehicles were parked up the side of the road, but Gabby recognized their surveillance van.
“Let’s see what Nadia has for us,” she said as Kelso pulled behind the commercial vehicle. She turned the visor down to check her make-up. She’d gone with pale goth, dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was teased to death, reminiscent of Madonna’s Material Girl days. She had on jeans and wore a thin bulletproof vest behind a tee beneath a bomber jacket.
“Sure you’re up for this?” Kelso asked worriedly. “No headache?”
“A bit. Less than a hangover.” She put on her aviators. “Besides, shades help and go with the look.” She hopped out of the vehicle and immediately regretted it. The jolt gave her a spike of pain in her skull.
Kelso gave two raps to the back of the van, paused, and another double rap before Nadia opened the door, smiling at them
“Come on in, detectives. How’s the head?”
“Hard as ever,” Gabby quipped as she and Kelso climbed in. By that time, the captain and Delgado joined in.
“Chen’s scouting the perimeter, but good job with the drone, Nadia,” the captain said.
Nadia nodded, but her attention was riveted on Gabby, giving her a head-to-toe appraisal. “Love the disguise. Now we’re sisters.” She held out her fist and they exchanged a fist bump. Their crime analyst was dressed all in black, her right arm was inked with tattoos. Black square-rimmed glasses and slicked back blond hair gave her a scholarly yet edgy look. “Now all you need are bangles and bangs.”
Gabby laughed. “No bangles. If I have to follow a suspect on the sly, I don’t want to be jingling all over the place.” Everyone laughed, though the air in the van felt fraught with tension or maybe it was just too crowded, making it difficult to breathe.
“I’ll be watching you all on the Wasp.”
“The Wasp?”
“The Wasp ten-k.” The analyst gestured toward a row of silver colored bugs that looked more like beetles than wasps.
“They’re shiny. Don’t they attract attention?” Gabby asked as everyone picked up a set of earpieces and put them on.
“Nope. What they do is camouflage. Once activated, little mirrors reflect the surroundings and they’re nearly transparent. Can’t tell they’re even there.”
“At least this comm stuff looks like ear buds and …” Gabby checked her Tac-watch. “And it’s linked.”
They did a couple of tests with their communication equipment and finally Delgado turned to Gabby.
“Ready to rock?”
A couple of people stood in front of the clinic. A Hispanic woman with two children waited right by the door; a woman with coppery hair sat against the wall. She was so emaciated, her eyes were sunken. She didn’t even bother to hide the track marks on her arm.
“Be advised there are women and children around the perimeter,” Gabby muttered to her comms as she and Delgado entered the clinic.
There were varying affirmative responses. It was just a formality for the sake of recording the op.
The first thing Gabby noticed when she entered the facility was that it was clean, but it was crowded and noisy. Benches lined the walls and people of all ages and races sat against them, and children were scattered on the floor.
An announcement stood to one side. “Ariana Ortega Wellness drive today.” There was a translation in Spanish, and a red bar across the sign indicated appointments were fully booked.
“Oh well,” Delgado murmured by her ear. “I guess no vitamin infusion for you today.”
A large oval counter was flanked by the two hallways that led to the rooms in the clinic. Nurses ushered patients to and from the reception area. The disparity in personnel was obvious. Ariana brought her own staff to these events. The nurse in a polished and vibrant uniform clashed with the one wearing drab, faded scrubs, but they seemed to be getting along and exchanging good-natured ribbing.
She approached the front desk which was manned by three people, one of whom was a harried looking nurse, busy shuffling paperwork around. “We’re full,” she announced without looking at Gabby. “But you can take a bottle of vitamins from the box at the end of the counter.”
“Thanks,” she said. Delgado signaled with his eyes that he was going around the other end to peek down the corridor.
Her earpiece crackled.
“We have two vehicles circling the clinic,” Nadia said.
“Suspicious?” Chen asked.
“Four men. Silver Toyota, old model. Driver looks Latino, thirties, ink on left arm.”
“Do you recognize the tats?” This from the Captain.
“Checking now.”
“How about the other vehicle?” Delgado asked while pretending interest in a mural on the wall.
“Caucasian male, facial hair, thirties, black Explorer with rental tags. He just moved out of drone range.”
“Might be a tourist lost in the Valley,” Chen joked.
“Do you want a packet of vitamins?” A voice pulled Gabby’s attention to the woman behind the counter asking the question. She was one of the polished ones.
“Oh, I’m actually a reporter,” she said.
The woman froze up, eyes turning into slits. “Ms. Ortega is not giving any interviews.”
Gabby pointed to the reception area. “But this would go a long way to show the good she is doing for the community. You know, after what her brother did?”
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
A distraction over the comm channels drew Gabby’s ear.
“Fuck, get out of there now,” Nadia said urgently. “These men are cartel.”
“Are they heading toward the clinic?” Gabby asked.
“They just parked.”
“Both of you heard Nadia,” Cap ordered. “Abort.”
A door slammed further down the hallway and Gabby heard arguing and she leaned back to see Ariana and a man she didn’t recognize.
“I’m not leaving like a coward,” Ariana said vehemently.
“If I have to remove you bodily, I will,” the man threatened.
“I’m not running. They’re after Raul, not me!”
Gabby signaled to Delgado who was already holding the door to the clinic open and he was scowling at her delay.
“Ma’am, I told you to leave,” the woman offering the vitamins repeated, but her eyes were getting shifty.
“Damn you, let me go!” Ariana shouted.
Turn
ing her attention back to the fighting couple, she saw the man did as promised and was physically hauling Ortega’s sister out the back exit. Gabby dashed down the hallway just as her comms broke into chatter and—gunfire?
What the hell?
Chaos and screaming erupted from the front of the clinic.
She hesitated and glanced back, not seeing Delgado, and decided to follow Ariana and the man who Gabby tagged as a biker thug.
Pushing the exit bar, the door opened to a small parking lot that led to a narrow street lined with houses surrounded with steel fencing.
“Gabby, where the fuck are you?” Kelso yelled in her ear.
“In foot pursuit of Ariana Ortega.”
She spotted the pair in front of the first house facing the clinic.
“My brother needs me!” Ariana shouted, twisting her arm away from Biker Man and ran to the house, but he caught up with her and kept a firmer hold on her.
Gabby drew her weapon, pointed it down, and crouched behind one of the parked cars.
“And my job is to protect you!” The man looked angry enough to toss Ariana over his shoulder.
Her bodyguard? He didn’t exactly fit the bill of Ortega’s soldiers. More like an independent bruiser for hire.
“Ortega could be in the house behind the clinic,” Gabby spoke into her comms. “Nadia, do you copy?”
“Roger that. Repositioning drone.”
“I’m on it,” Kelso said. “Chen, cover me. First house you said?”
All the while there were sporadic gunshots echoing around them.
“On the corner.” She paused. “I have an idea …”
“Gabby … what the fuck?” Kelso rasped.
“You’ve gone off script enough!” the Cap cut in.
She ignored the mix of protests and assents that crackled in her earpiece, but she had to follow her instincts. She broke her concealment behind the car and Biker Man spotted her instantly.
The Ex Assignment (Rogue Protectors Book 1) Page 11