Cruze went off with Moll to find coffee after confirming the boarding time. In about an hour and a half, they should be airborne back to the United States, going first to Miami to view his parents’ graves. Steve and his wife scheduled their return to the west coast with Mathew and Callie. Once they were stateside, Mathew’s place would be taken by another man from their crowd, one a fellow named Brian. All they needed now was Julio.
Cruze stood talking with Moll but his mind wandered to his siblings and how shocked Cristo and Eduardo would be at his reliance on these people so different from them, including three former federal agents who still functioned as consultants to the FBI. While everyone acted pleasantly, they might want to lure him and Julio stateside to be arrested. Without a weapon with him, he might as well be naked. He did carry a cyanide pill, acquired many years ago, which he had read was a quick if painful way to die.
Even if he trusted these people, how influential did the big agent remain? The FBI could send another team to take them into custody. Was the letter of intent binding or could the Court discount it as part of the FBI’s capture tactics? He had asked himself these questions many times in the last few days. Only moving forward would answer them.
Steve walked over with two folders in his hand.
“The agreement is still under review at the Bureau,” Steve said in a deep voice, with less toughness than Cruze expected. “Here’s a version close to final. Tell me if you want a copy forwarded to your attorney.”
“Attorney?” Cruze scoffed. “You imagine a reputable attorney would touch this?”
“Yes, I think one will. Talk with Julio about each term. He is coming, isn’t he?”
“We will be sure when we see him. While my cousin is loyal, he can be unpredictable.”
Right after the preparation message for their flight came, a tall, thin woman in a stylish navy suit materialized. No one witnessed her arrival, and yet she stood inside the conference room next to the door. Apparently Julio decided to go back to her homeland as Annetta. In her big tinted glasses, brimmed hat and sleek lines, Annetta made a stunning impression. She restyled her hair with fringe just showing around her face, and she wore soft, flattering makeup. In their years together with her as Julio, Cruze had forgotten how striking Annetta was as herself.
Ivy moved first, then Callie, each one greeting her with light hugs, like she might be their distant relative. Mathew managed a bare smile at her from his chair. Moll walked up and cuffed her on the arm as if she were now a guy masquerading as a woman. Even the big agent managed a small smile and a nod of greeting.
Annetta went over to Mathew, knelt on the floor on one knee and thanked him for their lives, before inquiring about how he was healing. She leaned over, took one of his hands and kissed it as she might a papal emissary. Her tribute reminded Cruze of his debt of gratitude to Moll. Each man had rushed to protect them without a thought for themselves. Such an action of willing self-sacrifice did not solely come from training but originated in the heart. Cruze would have forfeited his life to spare Cristo or Eduardo.
Steve called him and Annetta over to his end of the table.
“Any ideas on who attempted to follow you or kill you here and in Paris?” Steve asked.
“Ideas, yes. People will line up for the honor if they think we are going to sell them out,” Cruze said.
“Let’s say no one suspects. How many would you have then?”
Cruze shrugged and said, “Been out of the business for two years. Sure grudges persist, but no one I can think of.”
“Anyone lately released from prison?” Steve asked, trying to get any sort of lead on their assailants.
“I keep thinking about this,” Cruze replied. “I can name a dozen or even two dozen people, but none surface in my mind with a particular motivation.”
“Murder a parent, a sibling, a lover? Put someone out of business who might want back in?” Steve asked.
“Yes, a couple.”
“Annetta?” Steve asked.
Cruze noticed how easily everyone shifted with Annetta’s change of persona from Julio, almost as if she were a different person. She now showed her true inner character, untarnished by years of obtaining and selling information very profitably.
“Two,” Annetta said, “one in Colombia and one in Venezuela. Both five years ago or more. I became smarter at how I did business when I understood technology better.
“Names?” Steve asked.
“They will be on our list.”
“Your information will be immaterial to us if you are bumped off in the next three days and inconsequential to you if we can’t protect you.”
Cruze swapped a look with Annetta. She elevated her right index finger the way she did to approve proceeding.
“We will release those identities to you,” Cruze said and paused to make sure the big agent paid attention to his next request, “if you let me relocate my brothers to a cemetery of my choice, not in the U.S., where sometimes I can visit them.”
Steve scowled and regarded Annetta. “And you?”
“We can contact Mathew or Moll now and again, such as when we change locations,” Annetta replied.
“Secure service independent of the Bureau.”
“Of course.”
“One more question,” Steve said. “Can you think of anyone – FBI, DEA, border patrol, police, and so on – who wanted either or both of you incarcerated? Besides me and my cohorts. Think about this with care. Alternatively do you recall anyone who wanted to be compensated for leaving you or your brothers/cousins alone, or who you turned down as your paid informants?”
Annetta shook her head. Cruze sat in silence. Steve waited while he searched his memory.
“One,” Cruze said. “Surfaced about the time you fellows started sniffing around late in 2013. Approached Cristo. Don’t remember his name. Cristo called him PercyNarc because warts disfigured his hands and moles or similar growths littered his face, along with pockmarks from the removal of other bumps. I never saw the guy.”
“Agency?” Steve asked.
“FBI.”
“He wasn’t one of your moles?”
“We had three in place. Cristo didn’t think we needed four.”
“Anything in emails or texts about him?” Steve asked.
“Phone conversations,” Cruze replied. “Even we weren’t stupid enough to leave a trail about our stoolies.”
“No one should call any of you dumb,” Steve said. “I consider each of you the most creative individuals we have pursued. I characterize you as intelligent, innovative, and slippery. You led us on intriguing chases with your tortuous evasions of the law. Too bad all four of you didn’t direct those talents into more legal endeavors.”
Steve paused and glanced down at Ivy and over at Mathew. While they exchanged no words, a communication flowed among the three of them.
“I will send you an amendment,” Steve said. “Before we land, give me the people most likely to come after you. Moving the remains of your brothers may take time to sort out. We can add the gist of your request as another addendum. Might be easier if we cremated the bodies first.”
Cruze gave his consent for the cremations and said, “You talk like a lawyer.”
“Each of us earned law degrees. We went right into the FBI and never practiced in the traditional sense.”
Steve stood, shook out the creases in his trousers, smoothed down his white shirt and straightened his necktie. Cruze supposed they should be complimented for being cunning adversaries. To his surprise, he found Steve to be a remarkable man, harsh and determined with no false bravado, yet also shrewd enough to draw out buried snips of dialogues from his memory. Cruze had forgotten all about PercyNarc. He needed to think about him while they crossed the Atlantic to see what else he might recollect.
Moll received a buzz on his phone for their flight. Steve lingered behind on his cell. His wife keyed into her computer, likely recording their new requests, the short list of the criminals to be
disclosed early and the lead on the PercyNarc guy. Funny he dredged up that fragment about him. Cristo only talked about him the one time.
Cruze left the room and strode up to take a carry-on Mathew struggled to roll along with his good arm while his sweetheart toted an attaché and lugged a heavy bag. He snatched the weighty duffle from her too and walked with them to the plane.
His and Annetta’s last expedition to the United States was about to begin. How it would end remained a mystery.
Chapter 30
Each day Mathew gained strength and endurance, finding a few hours of lucidity once he kicked the lingering effects of the pain medication he took. Callie had been at the hospital when he first woke up and only left his side when Steve or Ivy pried her away to get some rest. While he was in no condition to make love with her, he was finding her continuing closeness, even here on the plane, increasingly tempting. His heart beat stronger with gladness that they were now a couple.
When Mathew woke up part way through the trip back to the States, he switched seats with Annetta, and he talked with Cruze for over an hour while Callie chatted with her. What might Callie discover as the two women conversed over a glass of champagne? As was her custom, Annetta only took tiny sips. She seemed to savor the idea of champagne more than the fizzy wine itself.
Cruze inquired about particular phrasing in the agreement and Mathew explained the legal terminology to him. The conversation made him realize how isolated the cousins must be and that made him sad for them. Each one operated in the underworld, they had perpetrated numerous crimes, they represented the types of felons he had spent his career bringing to justice and yet he found himself sorry to think soon he will not be around them again. He hoped their tactics for safeguarding the Fuentes would prove successful during the next few days until they slipped away into their new lives.
As soon as the cousins were confirmed safe in a new location, squads at the Bureau were scheduled to jump on researching the full list of criminals. Once the information was confirmed with collaborative evidence, the FBI planned to arrest the offenders in multiple simultaneous operations, before any rumors about the sell-out circulated in the underworld. The Spook Hills Gang planned to return home and wind down their involvement.
Once on the ground in Miami, they deplaned first to be greeted by Brian, who would escort the Fuentes down the metal stairs from the Jetway to the tarmac where a town car waited. They had briefed Brian by phone about handling the scheduled stops for the Fuentes. Although Brian took command of the action with the Fuentes, he blushed when he met the cousins, turning quite pink as he reached out to shake Annetta's hand. Mathew could see that he found Annetta attractive. He had known Brian for almost twenty years now, and he had never seen him look quite as taken with a woman as he did during his first contact with Annetta.
Brian led as they turned to walk down the stairs, reaching back to help Annetta make her way down the steps in her narrow pencil skirt and heels. While Mathew doubted she needed Brian’s assistance, she followed him submissively, even smiling at him when he helped her into the waiting limo.
Unassuming Brian embodied courage and conviction. Brian had jumped in front of a bullet meant for Mathew during a bust in Bulgaria, never hesitating to protect his friend and colleague. Mathew carried no doubts of Brian and Moll managing whatever might come up with Cruze, Annetta and whoever was after them. Moll had demonstrated his commitment when he threw himself over Cruze in the restaurant to protect him from the gunmen. Brian would do the same. The invisible bonds he shared with Brian, Moll and Steve proved stronger than thick ropes of titanium. When one of them committed himself, the others never questioned his pledge. He thought the Fuentes were beginning to have an inkling of how these ties now protected them. They vouchsafed for the behavior of the cousins, putting their own reputations on the line.
While the Fuentes went on their way to a Miami hotel, Callie, Ivy and Steve joined Mathew to board a Bubird to fly out immediately. Mathew settled into his seat, saying a prayer for the safety of his friends, including Cruze and Annetta. Had they lingered in London out of fear for their own longer-term well-being or out of real concern for him? He suspected a bit of both came into their delayed departure. Callie perceived Julio as sincere when he showed up at the hospital, and Steve mentioned his opinion shifted for the better from talking with him there.
As soon as she walked into the conference room, she slipped in his mind from Julio to Annetta, as if Julio were no more than a discarded costume. She became so convincing in either persona, he accepted the shift.
To his way of thinking, Annetta had stepped up as the leader. He did not think she was a killer. Annetta struck him as a strong woman tempered by adversity and the lonely life she had chosen and yet he discerned she secreted away a heart as tender as Callie’s. Her doom to a life of isolation by her father’s depraved actions saddened him.
While Cruze had been a dangerous man while with his brothers, Mathew viewed him now as more of a follower. He appeared to be weary, supporting his contention that he never wanted those years of drug running. Mathew believed their postulation of wanting to atone for their illegal activities and their desire for quiet, lawful existences.
The Bubird took off, showing Portland as their destination. They intended to file a new flight plan mid-air to stop in Atlanta only long enough for some of them to deplane. Now at cruising altitude, they moved to the onboard table to begin their discussions.
When they sat down, Mathew noticed that Steve, Ivy and Callie stared at him expectantly, making him appreciate he was now recognized as the man-in-charge. Taking a secondary role must have been odd for Steve, particularly after the work he and Ivy did on the case thus far. Since the day of Ivy’s abduction and Mathew’s taking over the two sets of negotiations, the baton of power had passed. His dear Callie wore a concerned expression, but he sensed her eagerness to help. Steve told him what Cruze said about the man who Cristo called PercyNarc and the incipient evidence Cruze related about him.
“The Warthog, aka Lloyd Gerkasky,” Mathew said. "Remember earlier this year I responded to a request for a deposition on an FBI agent with complaints of harassment filed against him? Medium brown hair and about the same height as the guy spying on me last summer. Gerkasky may be at the center of our troubles."
"Bingo!” Steve said with a grim smile. “Some years ago, I moved Gerkasky off one of my teams. I found his investigative efforts shoddy, his language coarse, his attitude odious, and his documentation skills weak. He didn’t measure up to what was needed for significant international cases. The Bureau transferred him to the Narcotics Division in the New York office. I didn’t say anything when you were called to give your deposition, so as not to shade your estimation of him.”
“I’ll call an agent friend of mine in the New York office and probe him about Gerkasky,” Mathew said. “Steve, you and Ivy handle the investigation of the names the Fuentes gave you. I’ll help as I can.”
“What do you want me to do?” Callie asked.
Despite her distress over his injuries, Callie remained by his side. The caring way she fussed over him made getting shot almost worthwhile. Although she knew that Susannah was safe, loved and cared for by Rich and Sassy, Mathew could tell that Callie longed to be back with her. This trip marked their longest separation since Susannah was born. He understood that Callie was torn between helping him and being safely at home with her daughter.
He spoke gently to her. “Callie, I want you to continue on this flight and go home.”
“You’re injured. I can help. I want to see this through with you.”
“Coming to London was dangerous enough. As we progress on this trip, the likelihood of more shootings increases. We can’t allow you to risk leaving Susannah without a mother.”
He watched the look of determination on Callie’s face start to fade. Mathew could see how torn she was, wanting to be with him to offer whatever help she could, but knowing Susannah needed her too.
Callie nodded reluctantly, left the table and returned to her seat, sitting with her head bowed and her back to him. Mathew knew this was best for her. Ivy should go with her, but in talking it over with Steve at the hotel last night, he understood that would not be an option. After having Ivy abducted, if only for a couple of hours, Steve wanted her where he could protect her and Ivy would not leave him to return home.
Mathew rose and went over to sit opposite, Callie. He picked up one of her hands and said, “Callie, we are much younger than Steve and Ivy. We have the potential for a long life together and many years to enjoy Susannah as she grows up. Believe me when I say I am not parting with you easily. Darn it, Callie. I love you. Can you blame me for wanting to protect the woman I love?”
She smiled slightly back at him and asked, “You love me?”
“More each day that I spend with you. It started the first time I saw you, and now I know I want you in my future.”
“I love you too, Mathew. I am so afraid of losing you, but you are right about Susannah. I will go back. Promise me you will be back the day you finish up in Albuquerque.” She leaned over and kissed him, circling her arms around him gently, yet with intense warmth. “What can I do now?”
“Would you come back to the table and tell us about your tête-à-tête with Annetta?”
Callie stood up, took his hand and together they went back to where Steve and Ivy sat working on their laptops. When they pushed their computers away, Callie began speaking in an unsure voice. “Annetta and I talked about fashion and how she was looking forward to shopping as a woman again. Annetta mentioned the importance of blood relatives and how much the three Fuentes boys had meant to her growing up. She also adored their poor, honest and hardworking parents. The more I talk with her, the more I like her. Despite her past, she has a fragile quality.”
“Did she say anything about this person or persons after them?” Steve asked.
New Growth (Spook Hills Trilogy Book 2) Page 27