Divide & Conquer

by McDonald, Murray

  The report of suggested advanced level Russian communications emanating from the state of Texas to the Glonass satellite navigation system was filed in the intelligence report for the day. Linked into the United States intelligence community network, it would be available for all 16 members of the community to view and cross check against their own reports and analyses.

  The moment the reference to Russia and Texas hit the system, an alarm triggered at the CIA headquarters at Langley. A call was placed to the former Head of CIA’s Moscow office and friend of Vincent Black, Mike Ritter, who just two hours earlier had requested any information pertaining to Russia, Sean Fox or Laredo, Texas. On receiving Vincent’s earlier call Mike had climbed out of bed and on Vincent’s request had headed straight to Langley. Vincent wanted somebody with first hand knowledge looking into what the hell was going on. And as far as Vincent was concerned, nobody understood the region or its history better than Mike, having spent almost his entire career in Moscow during the cold war and beyond.

  Chapter 40

  With over three hours sleep, Sean felt invigorated, or at least he told himself he did. The governor’s chopper coming into land had awoken him to the frantic last minute preparations to welcome the governor’s arrival. The small office where he had been kept from the press’ prying eyes was the last to be visited by the welcoming party and on seeing he was up and awake, they swarmed in and tidied just about everything but the desk, chairs and sofa that had been Sean’s makeshift bed for the last two hours.

  The Mayor introduced himself to Sean. He was a former FBI agent and was certainly not your average city Mayor. Both awaited the arrival of the governor with some small talk. Sean constantly had to change the subject as the mayor offered his extremely expert and experienced viewpoint and perspective on the warring cartels and the situations Sean and his team must have been facing working undercover.

  Knowing approximately zero on the subject, it was one of the most difficult conversations Sean had ever undertaken. His knowledge of Nuevo Laredo was that it was the neighbor to Laredo, it had better whorehouses and Luis’ uncle ran one of the cartels. Fortunately for Sean, the governor made a beeline to his hero and insisted on meeting Sean before making any comments to the press.

  “My man!’ beamed Governor Rick Brown as he entered the office.

  Sean accepted the outstretched hand and introduced the Mayor.

  “Great to meet you, Mr Mayor. Would you mind giving me a few minutes?” he offered the mayor with a smile and a handshake.

  The mayor accepted the hint graciously and nodding his head to Sean, exited the small office and left the governor and Sean alone.

  Silence followed as the Governor looked closely at Sean, a little too closely for Sean’s liking but he was about to be president, so he let it go.

  “Have we met?” asked the governor after the rather awkward staring.

  “Hmm, can’t say we have,” replied Sean, pretty certain they had never met before.

  “I definitely recognize you and I never forget a face!” he continued to stare at Sean.

  “Nope, can’t say we have,” replied Sean with some conviction, he had never met the man before, he was certain.

  The governor shook his head and waved his finger at Sean. “It will come to me, it always does.”

  Sean nodded half hearted at the governor’s playful promise.

  “So, what the fuck are you playing at?” The smile was gone and the governor was bringing things back to business.

  The change of demeanor, tone and friendliness in the bat of an eye, was, Sean thought to himself, impressive.

  “Just doing a favor for a friend!”

  “I thought we hadn’t met,” asked the governor confused by Sean’s answer.

  “You’re not the friend I’m doing the favor for!”

  “Oh, so who then?”

  “Somebody at the CIA.”

  “Your boss?”

  Sean checked his watch. “Nope,” it had been over two hours since he had spoken to Vincent, so, technically, he was no longer a CIA operative.

  “So who then?”

  “A friend.”

  “Does you friend have a name?” asked an exasperated governor.

  “Yep,” replied Sean. He could keep this up for hours.

  “Care to tell me it?”

  “Nope.”

  “You are a federal employee and I am a Governor of the United States of America, will you just tell me the name!”

  “Actually, I’m not a federal employee.”

  “I thought you were a CIA agent?”

  “I was.”

  “But you told the officers here you were a CIA agent, is that not true?”

  “No.”

  “So you lied?”

  “No, not true, double negative, ” replied Sean.

  “Jesus, are you going to give me a straight answer?”

  “I have been,” offered Sean with no hint of sarcasm.

  The governor pulled up a chair and indicated for Sean to do the same. Sean flicked the chair with his right foot and spun it in his left hand and planted himself just as it landed perfectly in line with the Governor’s.

  “Oh my God” exclaimed the governor. “That’s how I recognize you, James Fox!”

  Sean looked at him with utter confusion. The governor was the same age as himself. How the hell did he know his father?

  “That thing you just did with your chair, your father used to do the same thing.”

  Sean thought back and realized he was right. That was exactly what his father used to do, kick and spin the chair before planting himself to perfection on the seat. Sitting on the chair back to front.

  “How did you know my father?”

  “Uncle James, he visited us.” The governor thought back. “About three or four times a year.”

  “Uncle?” exclaimed Sean.

  “Well that’s what I called him, he was a good friend of my mom and dads.”

  “But I never met your parents?”

  “They didn’t travel much after dad’s accident. In fact, I think it was the time they spent in Washington before I was born that they met your parents. Dad was too ill to travel to the funeral when they died.”

  “So you are James Fox’s son!”

  “Yep, Sean, Sean Fox.” Sean offered his hand again for a more personal meeting. “Pleased to meet you, Governor!”

  Governor Brown took the hand and shook at in a completely different way than before. The firmness and strength had been replaced by a warmer friendlier shake.

  “But wait a minute,” the governor pondered. “Didn’t I read you had died, that’s why I didn’t recognize you straight away. I thought you were dead!”

  “Another Sean Fox,” smiled Sean not particularly wanting to revisit that story.

  “OK,” replied the governor. “So anyway, who is this friend?”

  Sean laughed as the governor leaned in conspiratorially, saying he knew Sean’s father it seemed was all he needed to crack Sean’s resolve.

  “I’m afraid not, Mr Governor…”

  “Rick, please call me Rick!”

  “I’m afraid not, Rick. Let’s just say he has your best interests at heart.”

  “Worth a shot!” replied the governor with a shrug. He obviously hadn’t expected Sean to fold.

  “So you’re not in the CIA any longer?”

  “No, left about eighteen months ago and just picked up this job to help out a friend.”

  “So what do you do now?”

  “Up until about one day ago, bodyguard and exec rescue in Afghanistan.”

  “Sounds dangerous!”

  “Not nearly as dangerous as here!” muttered Sean under his breath.

  “Sorry?” asked the governor not quite catching what he had said.

  “Very, but paid very well.”

  “And now that you’ve done your favor for your friend?”

  “One more little job and then life’s a beach.”

  The
governor considered Sean’s answer far more than Sean thought it deserved.

  “How long will your little job last?”

  Sean hadn’t really considered how long it would take him to get James back but the more he considered it he realized it really needed to be soon. Too many variables were in play and the situation could get out of control at any moment. James’ life really was hanging by a thread.

  “Hopefully, we’ll have it wrapped up the end of the day!”

  “Perfect, we leave for Moscow in three days!”

  “Sorry?” asked Sean perplexed by the statement.

  “I have a trip scheduled to Moscow as part of my build up to announcing my presidency. I need a bodyguard and you obviously fit the bill. Perfect.”

  “The Secret Service will protect you.”

  “I’m not on their radar yet because I have not announced my intention to run. So although I’ll get some protection, I’d much prefer you by my side. In any event we can swap stories on your old man!”

  The Governor did not wait for an answer. He thrust a card in Sean’s hand and told him to call and get the arrangements. Whatever his per diem rate in Afghanistan would be matched.

  Sean stuck the card in his pocket and waited for the governor to take the podium in the main area before sneaking out the back door of the complex. It seemed he had three days maximum to find James or find a way out of the Moscow trip. However, in all honesty, his assessment of hanging by a thread rang true. He really needed to get James back long before then.

  Chapter 41

  “Luis!” screamed El Jefe as he stared at the TV news in disbelief.

  Juan walked into the room as El Jefe threw his coffee at the screen. “He’s not here, El Jefe,” he offered calmly.

  “I’m shouting at him not for him!” he barked in frustration as two men ran in and quickly replaced yet another TV screen.

  Juan Torres, El Jefe’s number two in command, had been at El Jefe’s side since the two were children. They had joined and left the army together and had created one of the most powerful cartels in the world from scratch. Juan Torres was as ruthless a man as El Jefe but some said, more worryingly, without the temper. His composure never changed. From making love to a beautiful woman to carving a man into twenty pieces in front of his family, his expression remained the same. Where El Jefe shouted, barked and threw things around, Juan spoke evenly and calmly.

  “I have just been updated on the evening’s events, El Jefe,” he said pouring himself and El Jefe a fresh cup of coffee.

  “The fucking CIA!” screamed El Jefe. “He gave my rifle to someone in the fucking CIA.”

  “Yes I heard the report on the radio in the car, it is rather strange but I am sure he knows what he’s doing.” Juan knew when he needed to calm El Jefe down and offering his support to Luis’ plan would instantly help. El Jefe knew Juan was not fond of his nephew but did appreciate that sometimes the boy knew what he was doing.

  However, Juan himself was no fool and understood there was a political game being played across the river. For forty years he had followed El Jefe, knowing that with El Jefe, he would achieve everything in life he ever wanted. El Jefe was a natural born leader; men feared and admired him in equal measure. They would lay down their lives for him without a second thought. Juan was far brighter but was also bright enough to know this would not endear him to El Jefe and as such had downplayed his intelligence and instead persuaded and nudged El Jefe cleverly and helped create the most feared cartel in the world. Most of El Jefe’s greatest ideas and decisions had been Juan’s but such was Juan’s ability to manipulate El Jefe, nobody, not even El Jefe realized it.

  The introduction of Luis to the mix, the educated nephew, had been a constant thorn in his side but one that he was managing. Luis controlled what Juan wanted him to control and even then most of that was a sham. When El Jefe had suggested Luis look after Intel, Juan had agreed but only after he had suggested that he would act as number two in that area also. El Jefe agreed, seeing no reason as to why it didn’t make sense and in reality, every item of information was relayed to Juan before it reached Luis.

  The one thing that had slipped under his radar was the Fat Jake debacle three months earlier. From start to finish, it had been an utter disaster; none of it of his making. Luis had uncovered Fat Jake’s meeting place while Juan was out of the country and had taken it to his uncle. Between the two idiots, they had worked out they could increase Los Zetas’ profits. The idea, in itself, was not a bad one if the meeting was, at face value, as it seemed. However, Juan Torres was not a man who would have allowed Fat Jake to operate without good reason and that was Luis and El Jefe’s first mistake.

  The East coast business was a complex set up. Los Zetas dealt with a middleman, Carlos. Los Zetas supplied drugs to Carlos, Carlos supplied Fat Jake and Fat Jake supplied the East coast dealers. Carlos’ end was minimal, his profit was nothing compared to Fat Jake’s. Unfortunately, El Jefe had killed Carlos in the process of uncovering that nugget of information. That had left them with no option but to try and take Fat Jake’s end. By the time Juan had found out what they were doing, it was too late. He knew they’d never get Fat Jake’s end and that was precisely why he had never rocked that boat. And of course, over the previous three months, he had been proved right.

  The update of the previous night’s events, culminating with El Jefe’s target practice, had not gone down well and it had been a far calmer Juan that walked into the room with El Jefe. However, as he looked at El Jefe, all of the anger dissipated. El Jefe needed Juan to guide and assist him. Without Juan, he did crazy things. It had always been the same. Even as young boys, El Jefe was the loose cannon. However, with Juan by his side, he was lethal. They were a team, they were brothers and Juan loved him more than anyone else alive. He was the brother he never had. He was the brother who, when needed, was always there. He was the brother who would stand by his side to the death. He was the brother he would happily take a bullet for.

  “You think so?” questioned El Jefe, not really understanding how the CIA having the rifle he used to kill a US officer could possibly be a good thing.

  “I’m not entirely sure they’re being honest. There are politics at play, El Jefe,” he offered. “And your nephew would never do anything to put you in harm’s way!” he added sincerely.

  “You’re right, Juan, as always,” replied El Jefe, as he accepted the coffee and relaxed for the first time in hours.

  “Your plan to stop the meeting was genius, El Jefe!” offered Juan thinking it was in fact madness but it was done and they just had to move on. “Have we had any luck with the names for Fat Jake’s contacts?”

  “Not yet but Luis assured me this morning he will have them within the next day or two!”

  This was new information to Juan. Luis had not mentioned anything to him the previous evening when Juan had spoken to him.

  “I have not heard how Luis has managed this, El Jefe,” he commented eliciting the desired response from El Jefe.

  “When I spoke to him this morning and gave him the rifle, I may have been a little rough with him,” admitted El Jefe, to which Juan smiled inwardly. He always enjoyed when El Jefe did to Luis what he spent his day dreaming of doing himself. “ Anyway, Luis assured me he is nearly there and that was why he needed the rifle, it would clear the way to get us the contacts. We’re almost there, Juan!”

  “Excellent,” smiled Juan warmly, wondering exactly what the little shit was playing at. Los Zetas, his baby, was at the mercy of Luis. It was anything but excellent. He could have added that 'there’ was where they were three months ago but of course did not.

  Chapter 42

  Luis loaded the last of the bodies onto the wheelbarrow and pushed it the length of the garden to the small rowboat that already held two bullet-ridden bodies. He had taken a roll of garbage bags from the kitchen as instructed along with a number of tools. The next part of the clean up was the one he looked forward to least, dissection of the bo
dies into parts and bagging them to be sunk in the lake behind the house. He had of course witnessed his uncle doing exactly the same to Sean’s look-a-like but never before had he wielded the implements and undertaken the task. Sean had been clear that to ensure the bodies remained at the bottom, just like in the TV show 'Dexter’, they had to be in bits.

  Luis rowed the small boat to the center of the lake and began the macabre work with the jigsaw borrowed from the garage workshop. Fortunately, the darkness spared him the true horror of his task but after thirty minutes, he had thrown up twice and felt certain he’d be a vegetarian for the rest of his life. All in all, it took just over an hour to ensure the remains of his men would stay at the bottom of the lake.

  Before setting back to shore, he stripped off his clothes and placed them in another bag and sent that to the bottom of the lake too. He then plunged into the dark waters and manically rubbed himself from top to toe. Sean had been explicit with every instruction he had given. The final instruction was to sink the boat. The jigsaw, despite being low on battery, had just enough power to ensure the boat would disappear by the time Luis had swum ashore.

  Luis commenced the longer than he realized swim to shore as the final portion of the boat disappeared from sight. To say he had underestimated the distance was incorrect; it was more an over estimation of his swimming ability that nearly killed him. By the time he was a hundred yards from shore, his body was all but done. He had to stop and tread water to try and regain some energy.

  ***

  Pushkin’s men who were responsible for watching the back of the property had watched with great interest as Luis had loaded the bodies and then rowed out into the small lake. They watched carefully for his return and wondered if in fact he had made it back. After 90 minutes, there was no sign of the rowboat returning. The noises that had drifted ashore of the buzzing tool had stopped some time ago and naturally they had expected the boat to return soon after. As the first rays of sunlight broke and the lake’s surface became more apparent, it was clear for all to see, the rowboat was gone. The male disposing of the bodies had obviously dumped them and gone to another location.