by Lou Dobbs
Lila sighed, then finally said, “Listen to me, Tom, this is an unconfirmed report from a source inside Mexico. It is not necessarily reliable. The source has given me good information in the past, but he has always worked both sides of the street. My usual payment for his information is that I look the other way when he does something illegal for profit.”
Eriksen said, “But it sounds specific to me. The threat is that someone is going to kill Senator Ramos. That doesn’t sound like speculation.”
“It’s not the nature of the threat, it’s the source who is providing the information. If we act on unconfirmed rumors, soon no one listens to those rumors and intelligence becomes useless border talk. There has to be a happy medium.”
Eriksen gave her an odd look. “Wait a minute. How does a DEA agent hear information about an assassination?”
Lila met his stare and said, “Really? That’s your concern? If you can’t figure it out, you might not be nearly as bright as I thought you were.”
Eriksen took a moment as he eased down to sit on a storage crate for a camera. He said, “I had my suspicions.”
Lila knelt down so she could be at eye level. “Not one word to anyone.”
He didn’t waste any time raising his hand and saying, “I swear.” Then after a pause he asked, “But why?”
Lila glanced around to make sure they were alone and give herself a moment to commit to telling someone the whole truth. Finally she said, “It’s the perfect cover. The CIA is not supposed to operate within the United States. This gives me the opportunity to work on both sides of the border and hear everything. No one interferes, and if I have to make an arrest, I can do it as a DEA agent.” She appreciated the expression on Eriksen’s face and had to add, “A little more interesting than your FBI job, huh?” She gave him a smile to show him she was okay telling him something like this.
After a few moments he said, “What’s our move? Who do we call?”
Lila said, “No one yet.”
“What do you mean? If we do nothing, the senator could be killed.”
“We’ve got to check this out ourselves first. I’m not supposed to pass on unconfirmed information unless it’s from an extremely reliable source. The one who gave me this would not be considered reliable by anyone.”
Eriksen looked troubled by the whole concept of keeping his mouth shut.
Lila had to say, “To be on the safe side, don’t tell Andre anything about this.”
Eriksen said, “And I can’t tell Mike Zara. God knows what he’d do if I did.”
Lila said, “Just us for now.”
Eriksen looked uneasy but nodded.
That was enough for Lila.
TWENTY-FOUR
Manny appreciated how unusual it was to have a plan like this actually work. He’d been surprised to see Enrique strut right up and sit down across from Dr. Martinez. Manny hadn’t trusted the doctor. A man with nothing to lose is a dangerous man. Too bad Piña wouldn’t allow Manny to give Martinez some sort of reward. The man had lost his wife, then been shot two times and was missing his left pinky. That was a hell of a punishment.
Manny and his assistant stepped forward and slid onto the bench of the picnic table and drew Enrique’s complete attention. Manny was just happy to get the weight off his throbbing right leg. No one in the marketplace noticed the men meeting in the food court’s small seating area. It was just turning dark, and the marketplace looked like it was slowing down for the day.
The young man who had come with Manny had shown himself to be ruthless. Even so, Manny would’ve preferred to have Hector with him. The big assassin made him feel safe. But Hector said he had another assignment tonight, and even though it was somewhere here in El Paso, he couldn’t help on this job. Manny hoped to hire Hector again soon.
“Hello, Enrique. You have something of ours.” Manny was pleased with his grasp of English with the right inflection of scorn.
Manny waited for Enrique to respond to his greeting. The best the computer engineer could come up with was a stunned stare.
Manny chuckled and said, “Better with computers than people, I see.”
Enrique looked from Manny to Martinez to Manny’s new assistant. The young man from Chihuahua was not large but had the hard-edged look of a killer. His acne could almost be mistaken for battle scars. The ease with which he had cut off Martinez’s pinky told Manny the young man would have no problem pulling the trigger of the pistol he held under the table pointed directly at Enrique.
Manny said, “I’m not sure exactly what you copied off Mr. Piña’s computer, but it is not yours, and we need the information to be secure. I don’t care if you didn’t intend to extort money from us, the information is still stolen.” He allowed that to sink into Enrique’s brain, then added, “Are you prepared to give us all the information?”
“How do I know you won’t kill me once I give you the thumb drive?”
“All I can do is assure you that we definitely will kill you if you do not give us the thumb drive.”
Enrique’s eyes skittered back and forth as he considered his options.
Manny said, “You have to realize there is a pistol pointed at you at this very second. I hope you don’t do anything stupid.”
Manny felt someone sit down hard next to him on the bench and then felt the pain in his ribs. The new addition to the meeting said, “That’s a .45 caliber in your side. I really hope you don’t do anything stupid.”
Manny turned his head slowly until he could see the face of the man who had just spoken. He swallowed hard before he said, “I know you. Your company has worked with us in the past.”
The man said, “My friends call me Cash. And I promise I wouldn’t pull something like this unless I had backup. Let’s keep calm and resolve this in a businesslike manner.”
That sounded exceedingly reasonable to Manny.
* * *
Tom Eriksen stood off to the side of the set but couldn’t focus on the broadcast of Ted Dempsey’s show because he was continually scanning the crowd to see if he could spot anything unusual. Lila had taken up a position on the opposite side of the set and was doing the same thing. He would’ve felt much more comfortable if they had a dozen more agents out helping them. But some of what Lila had said about information from unreliable sources made sense.
Dempsey had spent the first ten minutes of the show talking about the need for Congress to end government programs that rewarded companies who outsourced jobs to other countries. He used his location in El Paso to single out the computer company known as the Technology and Research Center, or more commonly TARC. The personal computer company did not yet have a heavy market share, but its profits were healthy and attracted investors from across the country. The computers were manufactured in Mexico with only a cursory check and sent on to the packaging plant near El Paso.
Dempsey looked directly into the camera closest to him and said, “Make no mistake, companies like TARC are creating jobs, but not in America, and the offshoring of manufacturing, the outsourcing of jobs, will ultimately devastate our middle class.”
That line drew heavy cheers from the live audience. Eriksen thought it made sense, too, especially coming from a guy who had proven to him that he wasn’t focusing on these issues for ratings, or ideology. Dempsey believed every word he was saying, and Tom couldn’t argue with his conclusions.
Eriksen continued looking through the crowd as Dempsey introduced his guest for the evening. A moment before the introduction was completed, Senator Ramos walked directly past Eriksen as she approached the stage, giving him a nod and a practiced smile. He could see why the young senator would be a political consultant’s dream. She was poised, pretty, and obviously very intelligent.
Eriksen listened to the standard early questions but paid much closer attention when Dempsey brought up immigration with the senator.
The senator said, “As the granddaughter of immigrants I think I can speak clearly on this subject. Immigration is one of the
severe stressors on our economy right now. With low job-creation levels and high unemployment, we simply can’t allow those who would enter our country illegally, no matter how much we sympathize with their economic plight, to take available jobs away from hardworking American citizens. I doubt there’s anyone who could disagree with that.”
Dempsey gave her a long moment, then said, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you up on your challenge. Immigration is not the issue. Immigration has been the lifeblood of this country and shaped not only the national personality, but our values as well. Border security and illegal immigration are what concern me, and I believe many more Americans. The idea that anyone can cross either of our major borders without fear of prosecution and with virtually no hope of being detected, frankly, should terrify all Americans.”
The senator gave him a forced smile, and much of her Texas accent she had been forcing into her comments seeped out of her voice as she reverted to the debate skills she no doubt learned at Princeton. “You’ve led me to one of my key issues: terrorism. You’re correct that with our open, porous borders there is ample opportunity for terrorists to slip into the country. But I would have to disagree with your assertion that immigration is still as important to an established country like the United States, which now has the world’s most advanced knowledge-based economy.”
Eriksen couldn’t help but look onto the set and away from the crowd as the two educated and opinionated personalities squared off. The senator’s deft refusal to directly answer Dempsey’s challenge to her restrictionist view of immigration, followed by tying the issue of terrorism to her desire for a closed border, was impressive, and she brought the audience along with her. Terrorism was still one of the few subjects in the country nearly everybody agreed on.
That made Eriksen think the threat against Senator Ramos was probably more reliable than Lila thought.
* * *
Hector was sorry to turn down Manny on a job tonight, but he had priorities. The assignment he had been given would help him cover all his debts and prepare for his retirement. He was taking this job seriously and was being incredibly careful. That was the only way to treat a man as powerful as Herrera.
He’d spent most of the afternoon mingling in the crowd before the broadcast of Ted Dempsey’s show. Since the set was out in the open, no one had asked to see any identification. His only concern was that since he was more than three inches taller than just about anyone else, if he took any action he could be caught on camera and identified. Hector had been mourning the loss of his cousin and could certainly have used the wild man now. There was nothing he wouldn’t have done if Hector had told him it was necessary. The loss had bothered Hector so much that he hadn’t even bothered to bring anyone else in on this job. It was too sensitive and secrecy was too important.
He had spent so many years collecting drug debts and sending messages from one drug lord to another that he appreciated the fact that someone wanted him to use his skills for something other than the same old narcotics trade. This was a political issue, and politics was one of his passions. He followed it on both sides of the border. Because of his work with the different drug lords, he realized just how full of shit Mexican politicians were when they said they were going to clean up corruption but accepted campaign contributions from every two-bit smuggler along the border. Hector wondered if the United States was much better. Every day he saw a story about some congressman who got in trouble for chasing women or some other personal lapse in judgment. He didn’t see too many stories about outright corruption. That’s why this assignment interested him so much. The idea of influencing politics positively thrilled him.
* * *
Cash figured a lot of people had gone to the broadcast of the Ted Dempsey show a few blocks down the street at the Bank of America building. The business at the little marketplace went on quietly around them. One couple looked like they were going to buy a taco and sit down at another table, but they moved on.
Cash kept the pistol against Manny’s ribs but looked across at Eric Sidle, the man all of his friends south of the border called Enrique. “We are even more interested in the information you have. And for your sake and my sanity I hope you have it on you.”
Eric’s hands were shaking uncontrollably on the table as he looked across at the man in front of him.
Manny turned his head slightly and said to Cash, “I’m sorry, I have to ask. How did you find us here at this exact time?”
Cash nodded, considering the question as one professional to another. “You left Dr. Martinez alone with a cell phone. He had my emergency number from when we crossed the border together. Aside from worrying about a trap, I was more than happy to see who showed up.” He scanned the market once more to make certain these two were the only muscle on the scene.
Cash had left Ari in reserve and saw him standing at a stall, looking at leather purses directly behind the thin man with a bad complexion. Ari caught Cash’s nod and turned, taking two quick steps until he was directly behind the man with acne.
Ari stood directly behind the man, blocking the view of anyone behind him and seeing no one was watching from the front. Without warning he plunged his eight-inch stiletto into the back of the man’s neck and up into his head.
Cash was as shocked as the man. He just wanted Ari to be in position to act if anything went bad, not to murder the man silently. It was a slick and professional move, so fast and natural it didn’t draw any attention from the few people in the food court. Cash shoved the pistol farther into Manny’s ribs to keep him from reacting as the young man went limp right in front of them, and he heard something hit the ground.
He realized the man must’ve been holding a pistol under the table, and suddenly he wasn’t nearly as angry at Ari.
Now the man just looked like another drunk tourist who had passed out. It might have been more common in New Orleans, but it happened everywhere.
Ari gave him a grin and said, “You need Ari to do anyone else at the table?” Cash kept his cool and said, “No, I think you handled it about right. Wait here while we decide who’s coming with us.” He looked back at Eric and said, “What about it? Do you give up the information and live, or see what it’s like to have an eight-inch spike driven into your brain?”
Eric looked sick to his stomach as his eyes took in the scene in front of him. The man with bad skin was facedown on the table as if taking a nap. Ari unfolded the man’s collar to cover the single hole in his neck and the dribble of blood.
Eric said, “I can get it easily enough.”
“But can you get it in time to save yourself some pain?”
On cue Ari whipped out a switchblade and started cleaning his fingernails. He said, “Ari will get it from him in less than two minutes.”
Cash said, “I’m sure you will.” He looked at Manny right next to him and dropped his voice. “Now the question is, if we let you go, Manny, can you overlook Ari’s enthusiasm? I’m sorry your man is dead. I didn’t mean for anyone but Eric to get hurt. You can keep the doctor, and we’ll clear up any problems caused by Eric.” Manny looked at his dead assistant, then Dr. Martinez, and nodded his head silently.
Cash sat up straight, his hand on his .45 in his windbreaker pocket. “You sit here with your buddy while we take a stroll. I hope we don’t have a problem with this later.”
All Cash did was glare at Eric and the computer geek started to shake. He slowly reached into his front jeans pocket, making sure Ari didn’t overreact to the motion. After a moment of digging, he pulled out a blue thumb drive with the TARC logo. In a small, shaky voice Eric said, “Everything is on this.” He slapped it onto the table.
Satisfied, Cash nodded and did a quick survey to see the best way out of the market. He still needed to sweat Eric to see how he got the info in the first place and why he was in league with Vinnie. As Cash was about to stand, he noticed something reflected in the glass around a jewelry stall.
A cop was headed their way.
Todd Weicholz had been a patrolman with the El Paso PD for over fifteen months, and he was a little pissed off he’d gotten boxed out of the Ted Dempsey show overtime detail. The administration had kept him with a senior field training officer an extra six months because they said he tended to be “overenthusiastic.” He didn’t mind the extra few months of supervision under a female officer named Stacy Ibarra. She was understanding and funny, as well as tall and beautiful. Too bad she was dating some goofy construction guy who was into mixed martial arts. But now Weicholz was on his own. Really on his own, as in the only cop assigned to the shitty little touristy market that sold the same crap as the markets in Juárez for about six times the price. The place had added a couple of restaurants and a cutesy café, and now it was the mecca for Southwest arts and crafts.
Weicholz had figured that after his stint in the marines he’d immediately get a slot on the SWAT team and be kicking ass and taking names. Instead, patrolling this little downtown beat, it was more like kissing ass and taking notes. Not the way he thought a police job would be. He wondered if other law enforcement agents felt the same way about their jobs. At five foot eight, Weicholz made up for his lack of height by ensuring his uniform and gun belt were squared away at all times, and he had a half-inch lift in each heel.
As he walked down the main aisle, Weicholz smiled at some of the pretty dress-store employees; he was always on the prowl for a decent phone number. When he stepped into the circular food court, the first thing he noticed was a group of men at one of the six picnic tables. He almost dismissed them as another group of tourists until he noticed one of them passed out on the table. It wasn’t much, but it was more exciting than strolling through racks of dresses and flirting with the cute clerks.