Collectively, these companies employed more than five thousand people. Franky filtered his drug-made-millions to all his businesses. And all this raw, untaxed, illegal capital provided Franky a huge advantage over truly legitimate competitors who didn’t have secret illegal funding sources.
The result was a complex crime machine that produced untold amounts of cash on both sides of the law, and both sides of the border. And, a calculated percentage of that cash made its way to local, state and federal politicians and officials, who all owed much of their political and financial success to Franky’s political influence, and tax-deductible donations to their campaigns and private lives. In turn, they repaid Franky with lucrative contracts and protection from law enforcement and inquiries. And best of all, they provided him an air of legitimacy.
They were bought and paid for, Franky’s “pocket politicians.” The icing on the cake was a few deeply-owned law enforcement officers and agents, none of whom could ever afford to go to prison. They would do anything Franky ordered, both for the cash and to protect their own dirty little secrets.
Franky had personally collected an impressive group of corrupt officials over the years. Among their number were two U.S. senators, more than a dozen state legislators, three mayors, several law enforcement officials, one FBI agent, and two DEA agents. These “resources” were frequently called on to assist their crime boss with small favors, for which they were paid outrageous sums of money. But, as Shane’s dad had always said, “There are no free lunches.” Shane knew every one of them eventually either paid Franky back many times over, or owed Franky big, an “obligata,” as it was known.
Franky’s influence mushroomed. The more men and women he helped make in politics and government, the more influence Franky acquired, and the more money he made with their help. The more money Franky made, the more his tentacles spread out across the States, and the more influence he acquired. Shane often wondered if anything less than a bullet to the brain could kill the horrible beast that Franky had become. He grew and spread through society like an aggressive cancer.
Franky Magadinno and his way of life represented everything Shane hated about politics and corruption. It was an evil that lived and spread like a malignancy of “quid pro quo,” Latin for “something for something,” “give and take,” “a favor for a favor,” and “you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours.”
This concept of “your favor to me, for a favor to you, now or later” had corrupted more people in politics than anything else. In the world of corruption, it was the immoral arrangement, never a goodwill gesture. It was also the reason Shane’s parents had been killed, the reason he had been driven into and then out of police work, the reason he trusted few people, and the reason he was always alone.
The underworld’s “quid pro quo” was the vile currency of politics and corruption, and Shane loathed it in these people. These tainted servants of the people quickly stopped serving the people who had elected them and instead, served themselves and their cronies, to all types of dirty ends.
Franky’s life may have looked good on the face of it, but “a mirror can’t show what lies deep inside,” Shane thought. Franky Magadinno was a pus-filled pimple on the asshole of society. And Shane wanted to pop him to relieve the swelling, infection, pain, contamination, and death he spread to others.
Suddenly, a brief flash of light interrupted Shane’s thoughts. He thought he heard an engine on the far side of the Magadinno compound. His adrenaline surged. But when no headlights or car appeared, he went back to his thoughts and his visual surveillance circuit.
Tonight, most of the members of the Magadinno and Alvarez families were gathered in Franky’s home, anxiously awaiting a call from Carson Tahoe Hospital that would announce the arrival of Hector and Anna’s first baby, rumored to be a boy.
Franky and his entourage would be leaving for the hospital as soon as they got the call. Anna and Hector had already arrived at the hospital about 12:00 p.m. Shane had immediately received a call from his hospital informant, and shortly thereafter he had arrived on location at the compound at twenty minutes after midnight to set up for his entry. He was now waiting for a call from his floor nurse contact to advise him of the birth.
Once the family received the call, they would all rush to the hospital to greet the newest little addition to the mob, leaving only be two guards remaining in the compound. Shane would have plenty of time to enter through the unlocked door off the second story master bedroom balcony, and plant the bugs, phone, and cameras he had prepared to complete his surveillance set-up.
Shane would then have much deeper access to the Magadinno network, and most of the intelligence could be gathered from the safety of Shane’s home computer. “Much safer and certainly more comfortable,” he thought, as he shivered in the cold. He couldn’t take a chance on the engine running to keep the car warm, and the temperature had dropped to a chilly 36 degrees.
It was times like this Shane felt best with adrenaline seeping into his system and ready to kick into full production. His mind was already at a heightened state of awareness as he went through his final equipment check. He loved the feeling of blood surging through his arteries and veins, being pushed faster and harder than normal. He could feel the rush beginning to warm his insides. He relished the pounding and surging that gave him added quickness and increased strength.
Over the years, Shane had learned to control his breathing and outward appearance, so others would not suspect his condition and know something was about to happen. Shane always looked calm, even with the adrenaline on board and the ringing in his ears it produced.
It would be a good night if Shane’s informant called quickly. But if he had to wait too long, the euphoria would eventually wane, and his mind would become dull as the adrenaline was metabolized. That would leave him drained, subdued, colder and stiff. Then Shane would tire and lose his edge as his body recovered and calmed, and when the call came, he would be “low and slow,” as he liked to say.
Shane silently prayed for the little mobster to be born soon. Not a nice thought, he suddenly realized, but with family like this and the kind of training the little guy would receive, Shane knew he would have no chance of normal development. In a brief 18 years, the newborn would be watching his dad kill someone, in a “hit” made to bring the kid along and solve a problem at the same time.
A few months or years later, “Junior” would be inducted into the crime family hall of fame by “proving himself” to the family, when he became a “hit-man.” Shane had once heard Franky boast, “When you’re connected by murder, all mouths are sealed, and the relationships last forever. Better than a marriage by far. No possibility of divorce!” Franky always laughed at his own maxims. His audience always obediently followed with their own expected laughs.
Time drug on for another hour, and Shane’s mind began to wander more and more. He could now complete the surveillance circuit with his eyes, warily watching and double-checking every point of potential danger, and still think about something else.
But, as the loss of the first rush of adrenaline began to take effect, Shane went into maintenance and self-preservation mode, to keep his mind alert and his body as warm and limber as possible. He began slow movements to extend his muscles.
As he stretched and rubbed his hands, legs and face, he thought about the morning’s events as the cold fought to set in further. In his mind, Shane saw the woman he watched every weekday morning at his favorite espresso café. He knew she had noticed him too, and Shane liked that every time he saw her, she looked at him longer and smiled more freely than the time before.
She had become a welcome change to Shane’s lonely existence when, one morning (12 weeks and three days ago, not that he was counting), he had first seen her. She was so beautiful that Shane couldn’t help but stare. But it wasn’t just that she was beautiful, there was so much more.
This woman had it all. She had fantastic legs, a lovely slender waist, sumptuous bre
asts, and an angel’s face framed with thick, flowing dark brown hair with red highlights. She had the most superb curves and body he could ever recall seeing. And her beautiful face was complemented by a smile that melted his heart. To him, even her feet and hands were the stuff that dreams were made of…graceful, long slender digits in perfect proportion to the rest of her body. She was a masterpiece.
Shane had seen her in tight Wranglers and a clingy sweater one day, and the sight cost him concentration for days. Shane couldn’t even think about her without butterflies filling his stomach. But it was her friendliness, manners, classy personality, easy laugh and exuding warmth that kept Shane returning each day anticipating another sighting, and then, wanting more. He now found himself smitten with a perfect stranger. “Perfect indeed,” he thought with a wide smile.
Shane had overheard the waitress call the woman “Kate,” during his second sighting. Kate didn’t just walk into the coffee shop each day; she virtually floated in and across the room. As she moved, long, curly, dark brownish-red locks of hair gently caressed her cheeks, as if paying homage to her exquisite complexion. Kate’s skin bore the faint telltale freckles of a redhead, appearing like tiny leopard spots, accenting her creamy flawless skin with a regal effect.
When Kate walked, her firm body bounced ever so slightly, revealing that she was in great physical shape. Shane liked everything about Kate. He liked the way her mouth moved when she spoke, how she tilted her head when she read the newspaper or her tablet, and the genuine goodness she radiated. He even liked her taste in clothes. Kate always looked like a model, even in tennis shoes, jeans and a T-shirt.
Kate always wore a unique deep red nail polish and matching lipstick, which Shane found mesmerizing on her. But one day, when Kate walked into the shop wearing four-inch high-heeled sandals and a short black dress, Shane thought he was going to pass out. This was a rush even he couldn’t conceal, and he suspected he was beet red, boyish and obvious. Although Shane’s eyes usually never gave him away, he felt they called out now to all who saw him, “Look at me, I’m a mess around her!”
He was like a silly schoolboy with his first crush. That day, Shane realized he wasn’t breathing as Kate looked at him, and he grinned widely. In the hour that followed, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her, and time and time again, she caught him staring. And each time she caught him he felt more and more out of control and embarrassed. Kate sat facing him and crossed her legs, revealing the tops of sheer barely black nylon stockings secured by a garter belt outlined by a lacy slip. She was obviously having fun tormenting him, and finally, he could take it no more.
He felt he had to leave and made his exit as dignified and controlled as he could, although he bumped loudly in to a table on his exit. But once outside, he regretted leaving. “What will she think?” he questioned. Shane, the iron man, was walking away, defeated by a woman who had never spoken to him, who probably now thought he was uninterested!
But nothing could be further from the truth. He was hopelessly interested. And even though he spent the rest of that day working out and listening to music turned up a little too loud, it didn’t help him a bit. He couldn’t stop daydreaming about Kate. He had become obsessed with this raving beauty, who didn’t even know his name.
He wondered each day, “What will Kate wear this morning? Will she be alone again? Does she have a boyfriend? Does she live in Carson City? What does she do?” Shane asked himself a thousand questions about Kate. He thought that, with enough time, he could find the courage to approach her and ask her face-to-face, at least what her name was…even though he already knew that much.
But life is always about choices. Shane knew he could make the time, if he could only muster the courage. He thought he should be able to approach this woman. Women had never been a problem for him before. But, he admitted to himself that he had never felt this way about a woman before, not even in a relationship.
Each day Shane found it more and more difficult not to stare when Kate was in the room. He would force his eyes to lock on to another person just to give his stomach a break from the butterflies. He felt like he was in high school again and hated that he loved that lost feeling.
Sitting on surveillance now Shane wondered how soft Kate’s lips were. He fantasized about kissing her sensuous mouth, as she smiled at him, like she often did when she looked at him from across the room. He once thought maybe he just needed a vacation, but then, he knew he wouldn’t want to go anywhere that he couldn’t look forward to seeing his beautiful Kate.
In the 12 weeks and three days that Shane had been watching Kate, he had memorized everything about her. He thought about her constantly, and even dreamed about her in the few hours he slept each night. No woman had ever had this effect on Shane and he wondered, “Why this woman and why now?” Was he just too lonely or was she really something special?
He recalled that one day Kate didn’t arrive at their espresso café, and Shane spent the better part of the day depressed, wondering if he would see her again. He was angry with himself that he hadn’t approached her, gotten to know her, and asked her out. Now he feared he might never have the chance.
Shane’s life in deep cover had been solo, always alone, always void of communication, other than now, when he reported to Sheriff Roberts once each week. He shadowed his targets, took his surveillance photos, recorded conversations, monitored activity, and wrote his computer entries, all alone, all the time. He worked out alone in his apartment before and after work, and he sat alone at night. He nearly always spent his days on and off the job alone. He called no one, except his uncle Pete. He had forsaken most of his old friends for his career, many years ago.
But Shane was tired of being alone, and now he longed to share his life and love with someone. Maybe Kate could be that someone, even though he could only look at her for now. He just couldn’t talk to her yet, and for sure he couldn’t touch her. But, for now, Kate had given Shane the excitement, dreams, and hope for passion he had desperately needed for a very long time.
As he again completed the visual surveillance with his eyes, Shane yearned for tomorrow morning when he could possibly see Kate again. As he thought about her, he suddenly found it interesting that they had both chosen the same small, mom and pop espresso shop, rather than the trendy chain stores most of the locals frequented. Another coincidence maybe. They seemed to share so much in common. He had gleaned some information from listening to her conversations with friends or coworkers she met.
He wondered what she was really like. Could she be as wonderful and exciting as she looked? Shane imagined that maybe they had more things in common than good fresh Italian-roasted espresso. He could only hope that one day he would find out. But when would that be, and how?
Shane’s dream was to have a wife and best friend, like his own dad had in his mother, when they were alive. Theirs was a relationship that had stood the test of time and all the trials that life had thrown at them, and they had only grown closer and more in love through the years. If only someone like Kate could hold that future for Shane, there was hope for him, he thought.
But in this throw away time in which we live, Shane wondered, “Do people still love like that? Are there still men and women out there that want a partner for life? Are there still women out there that are as beautiful on the inside as they are on the outside?”
Shane’s thoughts continued to drift as his eyes completed another patrol of his surroundings. “Is Kate as beautiful on the inside as she looks on the outside?”
Shane’s dad had always told him, “A mirror can’t show what lies deep inside. But what lies deep inside is what’s most important.” He used to say, “You can look at incredible beauty, but you will only see the ugliness beneath…if you know it’s there.”
And his father had been right. Shane had known some beauties in his last assignment in Newport Beach, and most of their beauty had been only skin deep. Some were downright ugly on the inside, with hearts as dark as the ace of spades,
self-absorbed narcissists, void of the ability to love. “What a waste of beautiful skin,” he had thought.
As Shane completed the last surveillance circuit with his eyes, he rolled down the front windows on both sides of the vehicle to focus on a sound he had heard. Then he heard it again, car engines starting in the garages, as lights flickered on and then off in several rooms of the house. The front driveway motion detector light activated, and Shane saw figures coming toward one of the cars parked outside.
He began counting bodies moving outside. His phone suddenly vibrated in its case on his hip, and he jumped. Adrenaline surged again. He answered quickly and quietly. His nurse informant told him the baby boy had arrived. The family had been notified and were on their way.
Shane felt the adrenaline rush returning, this time faster in a much larger and needed dose. The effect on his body would be more dramatic this time. A vehicle drove out of the driveway toward him, the wrong way to the hospital, surprising him, and the adrenaline surged again. His ears began to ring. He slumped down more deeply into the seat, and by the time the vehicle neared him, his windows were back up and the vehicle ignition back off, so no dash lights gave away his presence.
Even though Shane had placed a cardboard cut-out over the dash to block the red lights on the dash display that illuminated when the ignition was turned to “accessories”, other interior LED lights also activated, and could still call attention to him if someone was looking closely.
Shane was always prepared for someone to be conducting counter-surveillance. He had been trained by experts and had spent years perfecting that training through his own experiences, and trial and error. He knew to expect the unexpected, plan for the worst, and quadruple check all contingencies, so there was never a problem he couldn’t handle. So far there had never been a problem he couldn’t handle. He had always been successful and had overcome the odds.
The Case Page 3