“Sure. I’m fine with it”
“Okay, good. I’m going to run it by her how much we need to delve into it, but if they are looking for a fat settlement, rather than a court hearing, her name might come up. I want you to be okay with that.”
“No. I’m not okay with it. That’s my personal business. It has nothing to do with them.”
“I agree, but if they somehow get hold of that information, I want you to be prepared.”
“It’s not me that has to be prepared, it would be her parents. She’s only twelve. I don’t see where she would have any involvement at all.”
“Newspaper reporters trying to find a juicy angle for their story. I’m sad to say teachers are getting a bum rap these days.”
“I’m aware of that. But this is Florida. I doubt they’ll hear about it in Palo Alto. Can’t we keep them out of it completely?”
“As I think we should. So, I’ll talk to Olivia, now that I have your permission.”
“What else?”
“She agrees with me, somehow we have to find out where the sexual abuse is coming from. She agrees with your assessment that her knowledge of sexual things is not natural, and some adult is at fault. It’s going to be important to help the Sheriff find that person.”
“Or persons.”
“Yes, it could be.”
“Will they share their findings? Or are they being kept from doing anything?”
“That’s not up to the attorney or to the Gibbs. The law is very clear in the case of child sexual abuse. The child comes first. There are limits to what the law can do, though. But the child is supposed to be protected first and foremost. So, they can’t stop an investigation forever. They can delay it, and if they get too much in the way, they can be arrested. Not that we want that.”
“So, Mr. Karmody, what’s your point? I don’t understand.”
He looked down at his big hands again, chewing on his lower lip and frowning. “We might have to hire a private investigator. We need someone who knows how to dig into court and other records, see if there is anything in the family history that will give some indication of who’s at fault.”
“Okay.”
“It can be expensive.”
Martel knew it was coming down to that.
“How much?”
“Five, ten thousand dollars easily. Goes up from there. The bottom line is that we have to walk the very narrow path of showing Cora has been damaged by some association, and because of that, unwittingly invited the attention at school. That because of that, you had no idea to be careful with her, or to watch her more closely. You could not be held to a higher standard than a normal other teacher would. In fact, you went out of your way to be transparent, which I think is obvious.”
“And if it’s not done right, it will backfire. Make enemies out of the parents.”
“Or Cora herself. We don’t want her embellishing her story, making you more the target. You can see our problem. Unfortunately, resources aren’t what they should be, so the Sheriff isn’t known for their skill in this arena.”
“Great.”
“They have more work than they have people to do the job. Have you ever seen a wrestling match? One of those big events on TV?”
“In passing. It’s not my thing.”
“Nor mine. But have you ever watched the referee? Now, do you think they ever are in control? I mean, they don’t really stop the fight, do they? Most those guys are half the size of the wrestlers, anyway. And some of it is just show. I’m not saying the Sheriff’s Department is like that, but they are more like referees. They gather up all the information for charges to be filed. Someone has to become the target of the investigation. That shouldn’t be Cora. It needs to fall on the shoulders of the sick o who can’t stop. And it shouldn’t be you, either.”
Martel nodded her agreement. “So, the detective will do some of the legwork for the Sheriff, help them build a case, if there is one.”
“That’s right. And if you think about it, getting some help for that little girl is paramount. We need to help her get the support system that will help her heal. We aren’t looking to tear the family apart. But it depends on who did what to whom. Get my drift?”
“I do. And I don’t think the father is involved.”
“Olivia agrees with me on that, too. She thinks your hunch about the wife’s family would be a good place to start. That is, if you’re willing.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Oh, you do, you most definitely do. You could wait until the school gets served with a complaint, naming you as well. By the time things get filed, they begin to become concrete. Sides start forming. It’s why Manny wanted to meet with you ‘informally,’” he said, using his fingers in the quote marks, “to get enough facts he could use to make a compelling case. It was sleazy, but it was also smart.”
“Well, I’ve been saving for the wedding. I could invest about five thousand dollars in this, if you think it’s money well spent. How much more for your fees, for Olivia’s fees?”
“I’m not going to charge you. I think you’re looking at another five thousand dollars for her, minimum. That’s what I’d propose to do, give her a retainer, and let her work with the private detective to see if they can dig up something on that family.”
Martel looked at her breakfast and wasn’t going to be able to eat a bite. She wasn’t sure what had made her sick, but she knew one thing. The idea of the catered dinner, gazebo out at the beach and the rows of rented white chairs became a distant memory. Since it didn’t matter much to Damon anyhow, a potluck dinner at Aimee and Andy’s house, cases of wine from the Liquor Warehouse, no bridesmaids or groomsmen and a cake she could probably bake herself was looking pretty good.
Those beautiful, perfect weddings at exotic destinations were for other people who made different choices with their lives. Maybe she’d get to go to Ainsley’s wedding someday where she’d have all that.
She could wait that long.
Chapter 17
Fredo and Damon waited under the shade of a large outcropping of sandstone, populated with desert plants. They were roughly twenty feet from the left side of the enormous solid metal gate the swung open, so they had adjusted their spot to make sure they weren’t caught in it. They could hear guards walking the interior perimeter of the plaster walls lined with broken bottles and barbed wire
Fredo indicated they were in place a whole two minutes early. Danny and others started whispering their checks as well.
Damon nodded toward the wall. “What are they saying?”
“I think they’re talking about where they’re going to take their group. I guess these must be part of the Coyote brigade.”
“Probably do it all. Cross train. They guard, watch over the hostages and lead the group over the border, you think?”
“Makes sense. They must have hundreds of these guys. You know they busted a team from Romania with affiliation to the Cortez cartel?”
“The ones they’re trying to move out?”
Fredo nodded.
“What would they be doing there?”
“Same as here. Picking up people who want to get out, enslaving them to be mules for them, owing them money if they can’t pay up front.”
“That’s sick, man.”
Just then, Fredo put a hand to Damon’s chest to make him be still. He listened to the conversation.
“Shit, tonight’s a big meeting. Someone from Casa Cortez is in town to negotiate.”
Damon was completely still, not even moving a muscle so that Fredo could hear everything. Then they heard Kyle’s voice.
“I was going to tell you to cut the chatter, but what the hell did you say, Fredo?”
“Someone’s coming tonight. Someone big from Cortez.”
“Unfortunate,” came the whisper back. “Moves up our timeline. This is no longer a fire. This has just turned into a rescue mission. Bone Frogs, you get those containers scoped out. If no one’s there, you let me kno
w pronto. I want pictures, body count.”
“Roger that,” said Tucker.
“Sven?”
“Working on it. Not there yet.”
Damon knew Jason was going to give Kyle a piece of his mind when this was all over. He was barely thirty, not a Bone Frog at all.
Fredo unpacked his equipment, laying the blocks of explosive clay a foot apart, like he was organizing a large solitaire game, in two neat rows. He left the plastic covering on the soft bricks, but peeled the top layer off, prying it loose with a plastic knife. He asked Damon to cut ten cords about a foot long and fray the ends slightly. With a small plastic-looking drill bit, he made two holes in the top of every block.
“You using it all up?”
“Might as well. I sure as heck don’t want to be running across the desert again with this shit.”
He got a reprimand again. “Cut the goddamn chatter.”
Fredo motioned with fingers to his eyes and pointed to the piano hinges on the outside of the metal gate, and then indicated Damon should do just as he was doing, digging a pit big enough for a backpack to fit and be covered, on the other side. He handed him another folding shovel and indicated there was a straight line extending from the hinge to the pit he was digging, showing that it centered on the weakest part of the gate.
Damon carefully waited in the foliage at the side until he was certain no one was coming along the approach, and quietly ran across, positioning himself at the other side, then began digging. He was careful not to let the red clay soil, which was extremely dry, form a cloud of dirt that could be seen by anyone with scopes.
They heard Tucker and trace confirm there were mostly boys housed in very close proximity, wall to wall mattresses. They appeared to be about thirteen to fifteen years of age. Just kids, really. But they were big enough to carry a fairly heavy load.
“They’ve been issued brand new backpacks with water, food. They’ve got a shithole around the corner and one of the kids brought his backpack,” said Tucker.
“Girls and boys, younger kids, in the other house. I’m going to check on Ridgeway,” Coop whispered.”
“Sure would be nice if I could get a tracking device on that backpack,” said Fredo.
“Well, why don’t you hop the fence and bring it over to me, then,” said Tucker.
“Fuck that’s me. Headed your way now, Fredo.” T.J. was coming over to pick up and deliver the little needle with the chip inside.
“Too late for this one, but there will be others,” said Tucker.
“How did they get inside?” Damon asked Fredo.
“The gate kind of gaps open when you remove the latch. We walked in.”
“Too social,” whispered Kyle.
Fredo rolled his eyes. Just then, T.J. appeared from the shadows. Fredo stopped connecting the blocks with the cord and removed the pin from his breast pocket. He showed T.J. how to weave it into an inseam so no one would see it. He gave him two more just for good measure.
“Put this on Ridgeway.”
T.J. nodded and disappeared as fast as he appeared.
Fredo lay five of the bricks side by side in the unzipped backpack, the cords in place, with a piece of Styrofoam spacer, then held them all together with a bungee cord with plastic hook ends. With the last brick, he attached the timer, which he could auto turn on. It was set to go off in ten minutes once activated, he motioned with his fingers splayed. Damon had seen him do this several times before during their workups.
Gingerly, Fredo removed a nylon bag from an outer pocket of the pack, unfolded it, and placed the other bricks and spacers in it. He pointed to the other hole and Damon carried the explosives like a tray of tea and cookies to the other hinge. He lay the packs side by side, like he’d seen Fredo do, then strapped them together with the bungee, and made sure all the tops were indeed connected. If one was disconnected, it could throw the timing off, or knock the other cords loose and they could have a one-block dud.
Fredo attached his timer and then placed the bag against a large rock slightly larger than his hand, angling the bag to it was partway leaning against the piano hinge. Damon knew this was to make sure the angle of the blast kicked the hinge loose from the bottom. Due to the weight of the gate, that would be all it took for it to become completely disabled.
He gave Damon a thumbs up, zipped up the bag and motioned for him to cover it with soil.
Coop indicated Ridgeway was in poor shape, lay bloody and unconscious. Checking his signs, he reported that if he didn’t make it to a hospital soon, he wasn’t going to make it at all.
“Faint pulse. Dehydrated. Two bad wounds on his right thigh. He’s not walking. Possibly a fractured foot and ankle. I got the tracer on him. Administering antibiotics and I hope he doesn’t wake up screaming.”
“Got you covered, Coop,” whispered Danny.
“Charges in place. Set for ten once activated,” added Fredo.
“You guys get out of there,” Kyle barked. Get around to the back so the walls will protect you.”
“I got to be twenty feet away, Kyle,” said Fredo.
“I got him.” Damon grabbed the remote. “Kids need a dad.”
Fredo was visibly touched but didn’t interfere with the transfer.
“Damon, you get the hell out once it blows.”
Sven’s voice came over the com. “Kelly’s been drugged but in good shape. Are we doing this tonight?”
“We are. T.J. that was the last piece of the puzzle. Danny and Armando, on your marks?”
Both indicated they were ready.
“So, you want me to make the call?” T.J. asked.
“Let’s do it and get a SITREP”
They all heard T.J. tell the Commander about someone from the Cortez cartel was headed over to negotiate.
A few seconds later, they heard all clear. “We are to wait for the new visitor, and nightfall. And then it’s up to you. They’ve already got eyes on us. I’ll signal them.”
“So now we wait.” said Kyle. “Anyone want to tell me their plans for Mother’s Day?”
Several laughed. Damon stared at the roadway listening for a vibration. Fredo stuck by his side for now. He removed his Invisio and indicated Damon should do the same.
“You’re all right, kid.”
“Tell me that when I don’t screw up.”
“All you gotta do is push the button. How hard can that be?”
“Then you do it.”
“I was going to.”
They heard the sounds of trucks. They both replaced their earpieces, and Fredo whispered, “We got trucks coming. Danny? Armando?”
“We got one nice, shiny black SUV, heavily armored, followed by another,” reported Armando.
Two? He motioned to Fredo.
“Then we got some covered troop carriers. Yo the gate fellas,” Armando warned. “We got four oncoming.”
Damon pushed Fredo to the back while he hid in the bushes under the overhang. The sun was beginning to set but it was still too light out. He was concerned that too much could be seen without the cover of darkness. But, if the former marines were equipped in any way, they’d have IRVs, just like the SEALs did, so it wasn’t to their advantage. Main thing was to get the hostages out before they could be taken away.
He thought about what Martel was doing right now. He was going to recommend they go to Mexico for their honeymoon, but he was nixing that the longer he was here. He would sure look forward to Florida, the sunsets and the beach. All he had to do was push the button when the signal was given.
The first SUV stopped at the gate. Two drivers in black sunglasses and suits got out, followed by a couple of Dobermans, big black Dobermans. On a whistle command the Dobermans started sniffing the gate, and around the plaster walls. One was on the right, and one was headed straight for him.
“We got a dog tracking Damon,” he heard over the Invisio, followed by some pretty hefty swearing.
Damon didn’t want to tell them he’d been bitten by a Dobie whe
n he was young, and never trusted them. In fact, he didn’t like dogs at all, which most of the SEALs thought was odd. This guy meant business as he tracked his scent from the outside of the hinge on the gate to just outside the thicket where he was holed up in.
“Get up on the rock, Damon,” whispered Armando.
Damon tried to get his footing but slipped and fell on his belly. The dog abruptly stopped and started barking.
“They’re not inside yet. Gates are still closed,” Armando updated everyone.
“If you have to, just blow it,” said Kyle.
One of the troop carriers unloaded six or seven armed men, who followed behind the dog. The beast was well trained and wasn’t going to attack until commanded to do so. His bark was piercing. Damon could hear shouting from inside the gated perimeter as more men came running.
He knew better than to hide the trigger device in his pants, so he pressed the button and tossed it into the brush.
“We got ten. Nice knowing ya,” Damon said. He considered what his future looked like. He was either going to be shot, mauled by a dog or blown into a thousand pieces by his own hand. The choice wasn’t a difficult one. He’d take death by his own hand any day. But those dogs could do a lot of damage to him in ten minutes.
He tossed the Invisio into the brush so he could at least look like he was not part of a team. He’d forgotten to tell them this, but they’d figure it out. They didn’t have to hear him screaming his lungs out anyway as the dogs ripped the legs from his torso.
He slowly removed his KA-BAR and knew he could take care of the first dog, but not both of them. A lot of men were running toward him now, and it was close, but he was still in the kill zone. In slow motion, the SUV doors opened. Damon said a prayer for that piece of luck. General Cortez was standing right next to the gate, speaking with someone else, and he guessed it was part of the Surf Club, maybe Carlos Guitteriez himself.
He hoped the team didn’t come run to his aid, but instead get Kelly and Ridgeway out, hop in a truck and get the hell out of Dodge.
In slow motion, like it was a rolling thunder, he saw that larger of the two dogs leap in his direction, his body completely covering his, as the snout went for his jugular. Behind him, Damon could barely see the two hinges of the gate explode, sending one side up into the air about twenty feet, and the other slicing across the horizon, taking the top off the first Suburban.
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