by John R Cuneo
Chapter 16
Knock Knock
It had been two long weeks since we started moving boxes down into the bunker, beginning with the smaller boxes of gold and silver. It had taken a while for us to develop a method to get the boxes down the secured access passage, but once we did, we found it was quite easy to lower the boxes and secure them at the far end of the bunker. Carolyn and I were both amazed at how much room there was and how comfortable we were working underground. The temperature was a little on the cool side, but it was dry, and the air was fresh.
We had agreed to keep the storage shed we had in the valley just in case we needed to drop off more boxes of cash, and as we were driving more around the greater Phoenix area and making frequent trips to our property in Pinetop, we had decided we would stop in the casinos and exchange hundred-dollar bills for smaller denominations. Unless you were buying a complete grocery cart full of food, it was difficult to justify handing a cashier a hundred-dollar bill, so when we encountered a casino, we made sure we exchanged five or six hundred-dollar bills. Even with all this cash, we were learning the limits to what we could do with it.
Detective Gore was making good use of his two weeks paid leave after the shooting. He continued his training with the formidable self-defense instructor, honing his skills in both shooting and hand-to-hand combat. With equal enthusiasm, the detective also rummaged through all the business licenses he could put his hands on about storage units primarily in the Phoenix area, and he had found several connections to the Salazar family.
Through his persistence and good old detective work, he saw a pattern emerge. First a member of the Salazar family would purchase an entire storage facility, usually a business with two hundred or less storage lockers. Within a few months, ownership of the business would transfer to a family friend, who would then oversee the day-to-day operation of the business. The storage facilities were never part of a national chain and always owned and operated by one person.
After days of digging through business licenses and insurance paperwork, Detective Gore located one business in particular he could show had direct contact with Nicholas Salazar. However, before proceeding with acquiring a search warrant, the detective wanted to sit down and show his findings to Agent Tygard.
Carolyn and I spent a quiet evening sitting by the campfire we had built about twenty yards from the front porch of the cabin. It was another beautiful, clear night sky as we sat and enjoyed the vast number of stars visible to the naked eye, and they were literally countless in number. We listened to the cracking of the burning logs and the sound the breeze made wrestling the leaves on the surrounding trees.
By now all the work had been done on the property and the upgrades to the cabin were completed. The lands surrounding the cabin and stable had been completely enclosed with an eight-foot-tall fence designed to keep the elk and deer away. There were several access gates through the fencing that allowed you to walk out into the forest from any direction. We had also left the main gates to the homestead as original as possible with only minor work done to secure the “Feather Homestead” sign to the main log crossbeam at the entrance to the property. Our local contractor had done a wonderful job installing new windows and roof system while insulating the entire inside of the structure. We had gone ahead and put in a new heating and cooling system in addition to an oversized hot-water tank. I wanted to make sure Carolyn was as comfortable as possible whenever we visited the property.
Looking up to the sky and enjoying the forest was worth more to me than I could ever put a price on, and during these times of quiet reflection I found myself saying a prayer for the two men I had encountered that cold Sunday morning.
Paul Rossi found himself standing at the back of the crowd that was waiting to board the D.C. Metro for the ride into Washington. He had been at the Falls Church station since before daylight, waiting for his target to arrive, and so far, all he had to show for his time was the consumption of three large cups of black coffee and a rather sticky jelly doughnut. Today, Paul had driven to Falls Church from his office in order to observe Delmo boarding the Metro for Washington with his own eyes. He wanted to be sure Delmo was out of his house before he entered the property and searched the entire residence for incriminating evidence that would link him to the stolen FBI documents.
In Paul’s business, timing was everything, and the timing this morning could not have been better. Just as Paul laid eyes on the new crowd of passengers, he saw Delmo coming down the staircase and onto the station platform. Suddenly Paul felt a familiar twinge of pressure that came from his overfilled bladder, telling him it was time to pee. From Paul’s vantage point across the tracks, he clearly saw Delmo carrying a satchel strapped over his shoulder and hanging on his left side.
Then suddenly a flurry of movement, the Metro arrived at the station, and the crowd of waiting passengers boarded as quickly as they could. Then in another moment, the train left for its journey to Washington, D.C. Paul checked his watch and noted the time, then made his way to his parked car and drove to Delmo’s residence, where he spent a few moments observing the house from the street before entering the property.
The house was set back away from the street, with a number of large trees and shrubs giving cover to one side of the house and the garage. Paul had been studying the photos of the property for some time now and was confident the best way to enter the property was through a side garage door that was completely obscured from the street by these tall bushes and trees. The closest neighbor was approximately 190 feet away, and there was a well-manicured grove of trees between the two homes.
Wearing white coveralls and shoe coverings, Paul made his way to the side door, where he put on a pair of rubber gloves, then reached into his pocket to remove a small set of tools he used to access the old door. He noted the lock itself was so inadequate that a person pressing their hip to the door could quite easily pop it open. As he entered the property, he secured a facemask that would help conceal his identity in case there was an internal video system. Closing the door behind him, he checked for electronic sensors around the door and on any of the windows. To his relief, there were not any to be found anywhere in the house.
Paul started his search in the basement, looking for places that could be used to store anything of value. It did not take long for him to notice a set of scratch marks on the floor that coincided with a small table and chair against a wooden wall. Moving the table and chair to the side, he saw the vertical wooden planks that made up the wainscoting were very loose, and if not for the table, they would have fallen to the floor.
What have we here? he thought, and as he removed the wooden slats, he clearly saw a space behind the wall and a two-drawer file cabinet that, to his amazement, was unlocked. It did not even possess a locking mechanism. Opening the bottom drawer, Paul gazed upon approximately three dozen letter-sized envelopes, each stuffed to capacity with cash.
Removing one of the envelopes, Paul counted $10,000 in hundred-dollar bills. He carefully placed the envelope back in the drawer and closed it tightly. He opened the top drawer and found several hanging file folders, and upon further inspection, discovered they not only contained copies of FBI documents but also had handwritten notes from meetings Delmo must have attended through his position at the State Department. Once again, Paul replaced the documents and carefully closed the file cabinet, leaving things just as he had found them. He replaced the vertical wooden slats and moved to table and chair back to their original position.
So far, so good, Paul thought. He made his way to the main floor, where he searched for additional hiding places. He even looked in the refrigerator and freezer. He had found valuable documents and cash hidden in freezers before, but this time he came up empty. Satisfied he had thoroughly searched the main floor; he made his way up to the second story and found himself in the master suite.
It did not take long for Paul to find another hiding spot that wa
s in the walk-in closet. As he looked at the carpet in the master bedroom, he saw there was a visible pattern of four rather deep depressions just inside the closet. Looking around, he spied a wooden chair whose legs perfectly matched the depressions in the carpet. He placed the wooden chair so that it fit the indentations and knew it meant one thing: he needed to stand on the chair and look up inside the closet.
Doing this, he saw a section of drywall had been removed just above the entrance to the closet, making it almost impossible to see unless you were standing on the chair. The drywall was held in place by its own weight and friction, and it only took a moment for Paul to remove the drywall and see into the hiding spot. Inside the space was a small metal strongbox locked with a very substantial locking mechanism. Paul put the box down on the chair and, using his tools, was able to easily open it. The box contained both original documents and copies of State Department material.
Being careful not to disturb the contents of the box, Paul carefully read some of the documents, which contained what looked to be damning information on several higher-up figures within the department.
Not only is this guy selling information to the drug cartels, but it looks like he could also be blackmailing our own State Department officials! Paul carefully returned the box to its hiding place and reinstalled the drywall, then put the chair back where he had found it.
He continued his sweep of the master bedroom. The only place left to look was under the bed. Paul lifted the mattress off the box spring and, to his surprise, found a handgun. He carefully picked up the firearm and saw that it was loaded. He then carefully removed the magazine and quickly disassembled the firearm, placing the pieces on the bed. Reaching into his pocket, he removed a set of hardened steel side cutters and removed part of the firing pin. This way a person could pull the trigger repeatedly, and nothing would happen. After reassembling the firearm, he placed it back where he had found it between the mattress and box spring, then carefully straightened the covers and pillows, leaving them just as he had found them.
He inspected the two guest bedrooms but found nothing out of the ordinary. He then returned to the master suite and examined the contents of the medicine cabinet, where he found several bottles of prescription drugs, all from a local pharmacy.
This can be used to my advantage, he thought, so he made a mental note of the medication names and the pharmacy.
As he replaced the items, the telephone suddenly rang. On the fourth ring, he heard an answering machine pick up the call and deliver its rather mundane message. A woman’s voice said she, the housekeeper, would not be able to stop by on Thursdays anymore due to an illness in her family. She went on to apologize for the inconvenience and said she would be arriving at the location in an hour or so to vacuum and do her other duties.
Looking at his watch once again, Paul concluded he had to leave within the next ten minutes, so he hurriedly reviewed the master bedroom and guest rooms one last time, then made his way to the ground floor. He was satisfied he had found everything of interest in the house. It was time to leave, but before he did, he disassembled the locking mechanism on the garage door and adjusted it so that even in a closed position, the bolt would stay unlocked. He exited the house and entered his vehicle, where he proceeded onto the street and out of the neighborhood without raising any suspicion.
With his two-week paid suspension over, Detective Gore met with Agent Tygard to show him the documentation regarding the Salazar properties and to ask for his assistance in reviewing the paperwork that would be given to a judge in order to secure a warrant to enter and open one of the locked storage rooms.
Agent Tygard waited for Detective Gore with one of his coworkers, another FBI agent who was also a lawyer. They reviewed the paperwork that would be presented to the judge later that afternoon for the warrant. This was only the second time the detective had entered the FBI facility, and he was somewhat taken aback when he discovered Agent Tygard and another FBI agent would be reviewing his work.
The two men looked over the documentation and application for a warrant, and after what seemed to be an exceptionally long time, both men agreed the paperwork was in order and the judge should approve the warrant.
“That’s good to hear,” said Detective Gore. “I have an appointment with the judge at two o’clock, and if all goes well, I’ll have a DPS officer with me when I enter the property and open the locker later today.”
“You did really well on the paperwork,” said Agent Tygard. “And the way you went through all the business records and licensing is something you should be proud of.”
The young detective was almost speechless, having never expected such high praise from the FBI. The three men shook hands and said their goodbyes.
The workday was coming to an end in Washington, D.C., and in her cubicle in the document control section of the FBI building, the alluring Ms. Fena LaStrange was in the process of copying more field notes in preparation for hiding them in her modified purse. These notes contained information on the upcoming changes in surveillance techniques that would be used along most of the southern border of the United States, and she knew they would be worth a lot of money to her contact.
As she focused all her attention on making copies, she was somewhat startled when two of her coworkers walked back into the document control area. It seemed the latest trash talk concerned one of the female security guards recently hired.
“According to the rumor mill, the new female guard is just as interested in women as she is in men,” one of the older, more senior female employees said.
When the younger coworker heard this, she smiled and snickered at the apparent discomfort of the older woman.
Fena paused what she was doing. This can be used to my advantage. She knew exactly what she would do on the way out of work this afternoon. Just before the end of her shift, Fena went into her boss’s office and told him she would be more than happy to stay for a little while to complete any extra work he might have for her. Her boss gave her a filing assignment.
“This should only take twenty or thirty minutes to complete, but it is critical the documents be filed today,” he said.
“That should be no problem,” Fena told him, and took the paperwork and returned to her cubicle.
Her plan was to wait until most of the people had exited the building. Then she would activate the security scanners as she passed through them, which would cause the guards to take her into a side office and perform a more thorough scan of her body. After she had finished her duties, Fena popped into her supervisor’s office.
“Good night. The documents have been added to the library without any incident.”
“That’s great,” said her supervisor. “There are some bigwigs upstairs waiting for them.”
Fena left document control and started toward the exit. Fena had removed both of her earrings before leaving her cubicle, making sure to place one of them in a locked drawer and the other into her purse. After taking the elevator down to the ground floor, she stopped briefly in the ladies’ room. Retrieving the earring from her purse, she carefully placed it into the crotch of her panties and straightened her skirt.
Exiting the ladies’ room, Fena saw there were two security guards on duty, one male and one female. She also saw the female security guard was the guard her coworkers had been talking about. As she approached the security checkpoint, she made sure to smile at the male security guard while walking through the scanning machine. The machine sounded its alarm, and both guards asked simultaneously for her to step back through and try the machine again. Once again, the machine went off.
“Are you wearing any jewelry?” asked the female security guard.
“No, I don’t think so!” Fena said.
The two security guards looked at one another for a moment.
The male security guard told her, “You know the rules. We’re going to have to perform a level-two
search, so would you please accompany the female officer into the examination room?”
“Of course,” replied Fena. “I understand completely.”
She and the female officer walked into the examination room. The officer made sure to close and securely lock the door for their privacy.
“This won’t take long,” said the security guard as she retrieved a metal-detecting device.
She made her way around Fena’s body, first down the back and then down the front. Both times, the metal detector indicated there was something when she scanned just below Fena’s waist. The security guard looked at Fena with a bit of a twinkle in her eye.
“You need to remove your clothing for a more thorough examination,” the guard said.
“Are you sure that’s necessary?” asked Fena. “Yes, I’m afraid so,” replied the guard. “Please remove your clothing down to your underwear.”
Fena first slipped off her shoes and then quickly took off her sweater and dress. As she did this, the guard quickly exited the room and told her security partner what was going on and that she would be a few more minutes in the examination room. Returning to the room, the officer made sure to close and securely lock the door. This time she also engaged a secondary lock that would ensure their complete privacy.
To the officer’s delight, she saw Fena standing in just her bra and panties. She looked so desirable that the officer licked her lips, then told Fena she would continue with the examination.
“I’m ready whenever you are,” replied Fena. “What would you like me to do?”
The officer put on a pair of examination gloves, then picked up the metal detector and again ran the device over the area in question. She moved the metal detector several times over Fena’s panty-covered pussy and heard the alarm go off each time.
“Are you wearing any type of jewelry, such as a piercing of some kind?” she asked.