This Is for the Mara Salvatrucha

by Samuel Logan

  “There are a lot of people putting out for you and we’ll do a lot for you, but there are conditions. And you don’t actually have to testify. The fact that everybody thinks you are going to testify is enough to get you the protection. If you don’t want to testify, you don’t have to. They will extend the same protection, because at this point they have to,” Greg argued, knowing Brenda’s greatest fear was testifying against Denis and Veto. “But at this point, you’ve got to come in.” Greg knew he had her attention. “There are conditions, but they’re all good for you. They are conditions you asked for. You asked me, you agreed with me that this needs to be done, and I went out and I did it. And Alexander did it. And Rodriguez did it.”

  Brenda deeply wanted to find a new future but not one where she had to spend long periods of time alone. Greg reminded her of the people who were invested in helping her find a new future. But the conditions were her entry into witness protection and complete severance from MS.

  “Go on down the list of people,” Greg pushed on, wanting her to think of all the people working to help keep her safe and pointed toward a better future. “And you know it’s the best thing for you. You know if you stay out here, even if nobody in MS does know and you completely get away with it and you talk your way back in the gang, there’s still a chance you’ll wind up…” But he couldn’t finish. Greg didn’t want to admit out loud the fate he knew could be hers if she didn’t seek the safety of a new identity and a physical relocation. Brenda was also aware of this possible fate, but unlike Greg she saw the situation as one she could control. She had the boys all fooled. They would never hurt her.

  With that, they parted. Greg wasn’t sure if he would ever see her again. He had done his best to convince her to come in, but she had resisted. Her fear of loneliness continued to win over logic and the promise of a better future.

  Before Brenda could walk away, Greg grabbed her hand and showed her the tattoo between her thumb and index finger of three dots that signaled the three destinations of the gangster life, and used Brenda’s own gang reality to make his point.

  “In the hospital, in the jailhouse, or in the grave.”

  CHAPTER 38

  When Brenda called Greg from a pay phone outside a McDonald’s a couple of days later she was tense and speaking quickly in a low voice. It was the first time Greg had heard fear in her voice.

  “I really think I’m in trouble,” Brenda said, nearly whispering. Her voice was shaky. “I’ve figured out they’re babysitting me, and I may be in real trouble with some of these guys.” Brenda forced the words out, triggering Greg’s immediate alarm and concern.

  “Okay, do you know where you are,” he began.

  “No.”

  “Do you know what road you’re on?”

  “No.”

  “Can you tell me some of the places you see?” Greg asked, desperate.

  “Well, there’s a Marshalls nearby.” Brenda made no effort to hide her fear. “And there’s a Total Beverage.” There was only once place in the area where Brenda could be. She was at the McDonald’s on Little River Turnpike in Fairfax County.

  “Honey, I’m coming,” Greg said. He hung up and rushed out the door to his car. With one hand he steered the racing vehicle to the McDonald’s where Brenda was hanging out with the men who had scared her. With the other hand, Greg worked his cell phone, paging a number of cops. There was no time to wait for them to respond. He had to get to her as fast as possible, but if anything went down, he wanted them to know there was an emergency.

  Greg was so nervous, he cursed when he mistakenly took a slightly longer route. He ended up on the opposite side of the highway from the McDonald’s where Brenda was anxiously awaiting her rescue. It was a four-lane road in a busy section of the northern Virginia metropolis.

  The fast-food restaurant sat up off the road on an embankment supported with a two-foot concrete retaining wall. In the left-turn lane with his blinker flashing just past the McDonald’s, Greg willed the light to change. It couldn’t turn green fast enough.

  Greg was looking over his left shoulder at the fast-food restaurant when the glass-paneled door at the far side entrance flew open. He saw Brenda taking off at top speed. Four MS members sprang out of the slowly closing door, just paces behind her.

  Brenda slid down the loose gravel embankment, leaped down the retaining wall, and sprinted across two lanes of traffic before jumping over the concrete median and skidding around the back of Greg’s car.

  As she got to his car, the men chasing her were in the middle of traffic, just a lane away.

  “Drive, drive, drive!” Brenda shouted as she jerked open the door and jumped in, wide eyes staring at her narrowly averted fate. Boxer, the same guy who had thrown the basketball at Brenda’s head when she was in juvenile detention and a member of Denis’s clique, led a group of tattooed gangbangers. He was only feet away. If they caught her, Brenda’s smile would not get her out of trouble.

  Greg didn’t hesitate. He stomped on the gas and ran the red light. As he took off, one of the guys chasing Brenda got so close he smacked the back of Greg’s car with his fist. Greg raced at top speed to the Arlington Police Department, breaking half a dozen traffic laws on the way. He wasn’t worried about the cops. If they stopped him, that would be great.

  PART 4

  CHAPTER 39

  Greg came to a screeching stop in front of the police department. He didn’t care if he was illegally parked. He forgot the emergency blinkers and just focused on getting Brenda inside to safety. They got out of the car, and as Brenda rounded the front of the car to join him on the sidewalk, Greg turned to lead her into the building. He was anxious, sweaty, and nervous. Looking around for any sign that MS had followed them to the police department, he pressured her to go in. She wouldn’t budge.

  “I can’t,” Brenda said matter-of-factly.

  Stunned, his heart pounding in his chest, Greg demanded, “Why? What’s the problem?” Safety was just steps away and she didn’t want to move.

  “Just a second,” Brenda said, beginning to unbutton her pants.

  Greg stood there, at a loss as to what would happen next. They were standing in front of the Arlington County Police Department main entrance in broad daylight. What the hell was in her pants?

  Before he could open his mouth and insist they go inside, no matter what she had in her pants, she pulled out a switchblade with a narrow sharpened blade that was nearly three inches long.

  “I picked it up this morning. If any of them tried anything on me, I was going to stick them,” Brenda said.

  She handed him the knife. He fingered the knife in his hand, wondering if the day could get any weirder, then put it in his pocket. He planned to get rid of it before they headed past security.

  As they entered the building, Greg asked the guard to hold on to the knife, feeling a sense of relief at having finally achieved safety. He led Brenda upstairs to Detective Rodriguez’s office, where he called Porter and Alexander. Both men had spent long hours looking for Brenda. They would be relieved to know she was back in custody.

  Once Greg reached Alexander, he received news he’d been waiting to hear. “I’ve heard from the Witness Protection Program. They’ll take her in two days,” Alexander explained.

  “But do you have a safe place to keep her until then?” Greg asked, looking over at his precocious ward, who was sitting in a nearby chair, flipping through a magazine. He was still concerned Brenda might act like a teenager again and try to make it on her own.

  “Yeah, I’ve got a place far out in the country,” Alexander said. “Stay put. I’m on my way over.”

  Greg heaved a huge sigh of relief. This was it. She would go with Alexander, wait a couple days, and then formally enter the program. No more shenanigans, no more bullshit. He approached Brenda with the news.

  If she behaved, she would be moved out of the state, given a false name, and placed under the protection of the U.S. Marshals. Greg wouldn’t be able to see her
, and she wouldn’t be able to speak to anyone from her past.

  Brenda agreed to everything, but she had one last request. She wanted to speak to Denis. Greg couldn’t say no. Rodriguez, who was listening in on their conversation, also did not have a problem with letting her make the call. Rodriguez still held out hope that something about the plot to kill him would come up in this last conversation with Brenda.

  Rodriguez arranged the phone call. With Brenda on one line and Denis on the other, Greg and Rodriguez were able to listen to the recorded conversation.

  Brenda was understandably emotional. She had just been chased by a group of men who would have beaten and tortured her if she’d been caught. It was only an hour later, and she had to say good-bye to Denis, someone she considered a real friend, someone she loved and trusted.

  Greg was surprised when Denis began to cry.

  “This was a good thing for you,” Denis said, sharing with Brenda what both already knew. They were both cooperating with the police. “Go do this,” Denis continued, clearly emotional. “I’m fucked. I’m in prison. I’m done. I love you.”

  Brenda was crying and still upset when she said her last good-bye and hung up. It was painful for Greg to watch, but he knew it was a necessary step for Brenda.

  Alexander arrived soon after Brenda’s phone call and took Brenda to a hotel more than two hours away. There was little risk of her meeting up with her friends. Brenda spent that night and the next day alone before Alexander picked her up. It was her last night before she entered witness protection, and her last dinner with Alexander and Greg. They decided on an Italian restaurant near Quantico. When Greg arrived, Brenda was bouncy and excited. He was so pleased to see her happy. At dinner, she even showed off the pasta-eating skills that Greg had taught her months ago. They both laughed fondly, remembering the night he took her out after she had snuck out of the Fairfax County Less Secure Facility. Dinner was relaxing and fun. Brenda was surrounded by men who cared about her. Just as in the MS, Brenda loved being the center of attention. The one difference was, these powerful, engaging men meant to keep her safe.

  Of all the men and women invested in Brenda’s future, Greg knew Brenda best; he knew that her only option for survival was witness protection. Perhaps better than the rest, he also recognized the challenges the program created for someone like Brenda. Witness protection was a tough decision for her. Loneliness would be her only companion for many months while she worked to create a new life. They both knew too well that Brenda did not deal well with being alone. It had been their biggest trial during their journey together. Greg hid his concerns amid the happy faces at dinner and decided to hope for the best.

  Before they parted, Greg took the books he’d loaned her, and gave Brenda her own copy of Crime and Punishment, another book on how to handle worst-case scenarios, and Catcher in the Rye.

  After a big bear hug, Greg watched Brenda walk out of the restaurant with Alexander and drive away a second time to safety and into a bright new future.

  CHAPTER 40

  Brenda’s “new future” would begin with orientation meetings, lectures, rules, and explanations. Not a very bright start. In fact, she hadn’t known that she’d have to spend the next couple of weeks learning the structure of her new life, bogged down in the minutiae and paperwork as she separated the new Brenda from her old name and past.

  Brenda wasn’t the only one unhappy. After waiting out the two days between her McDonald’s near miss and her delivery to the federal marshals, Alexander had discovered that Brenda had called gang members from her hotel and cell phone. Alexander had given back her safe house cell phone, and in only two days, she certainly had made use of it. Some of the same numbers on the phone before she took off with the gang were back on the registry. She had called her friends from the hotel.

  Alexander liked Brenda and was 100 percent dedicated to her protection, but he was a straight shooter, and he was realistic. She was a constant frustration. He knew from her previous behaviors that it was likely that she would do something immature again, like run off. Her calls to her gang buddies only confirmed his worries. He’d spent many a long night looking for her in just about every corner of northern Virginia. She had been missing for weeks before Greg had rescued her from the McDonald’s. For all he knew at the time, she could have been dead.

  Plus, he fumed inwardly, she had trashed the FBI safe house. Alexander had to take responsibility for acquiring new furniture and getting the carpet cleaned. Truthfully, the safe house was just an annoyance. He acknowledged that she was young and simply needed protection, not only from the gang but from her own youthful desires. He was truly worried about her safety. She just wasn’t getting the message that she had to stay away from the gang or she would be killed.

  Alexander continued to deal with Brenda’s tendency to do whatever she wanted despite the potential harm to herself. He didn’t empathize with Brenda’s problems with loneliness. From his perspective, her conduct at the hotel was simply a breech of security. He decided to use the drive to her dropoff point as an opportunity for a lecture.

  “If you start playing these games with the U.S. Marshals, they’re not going to be as forgiving,” Alexander began. “They’re going to take note of it, and they’re going to kick you out. And any chance of you starting a new life away from the gang is going to be lost forever.” Brenda sat in silence, hoping he would drop the subject, but he was just warming up.

  “Look, you know every time you reach out to them, you know it doesn’t take much for them to do the callback and have the hotel number and find out what hotel you’re staying in. I’m saying your caller ID is out there and readily available,” he explained, sounding frustrated.

  Not only was she putting her life in danger, but she was endangering his and his partner’s lives. As they made their way down the road, Alexander kept lecturing. Brenda was quiet. She had heard it all before, but from Greg. Alexander had never used such strong admonition. She was about to enter witness protection. There was no room for half listening and then doing whatever she wanted. This time it was for real. She was in a car with an FBI agent who had every intention of turning her over to the marshals. For any teenager this was serious business.

  As Alexander talked, Brenda’s focus turned inward, to her own thoughts. This is it. There is no return. You break the rules and you’re out, on your own. There was no turning back to her life in Texas, or the life she had had with her family in California. Brenda Paz as the world knew her would have to disappear. She was not happy about going into witness protection, but she was resolved. She knew it was the right thing to do. If she ever wanted to see her family again, her only option was to push forward through witness protection and hopefully come out years later with enough distance from her past to risk doing so, but the thought of so much time away from her family put her stomach in knots.

  When the car stopped, Brenda roused herself from her deep thoughts and realized that they finally had arrived at the dropoff point. Alexander checked her to make sure Brenda was not carrying anything that could harm the marshals. The last thing he wanted to do was to hand over a potentially dangerous individual. This treatment, though, reminded Brenda that although these men protected her, they were not family, nor were they her friends. For them, especially the marshals, she was a job.

  Satisfied that Brenda was clean, Alexander told her to grow up. It was a strange mix of demand, annoyance, and caring. Brenda looked at him gravely, sensing the seriousness of the moment, then gave him and his partner a hug. She got into the car that would escort her to her new reality without a backward glance. It was last time Alexander ever saw her.

  CHAPTER 41

  Over the following days and weeks, Brenda’s life completely changed. She was in a new world, one sequestered from normal life on many levels. Secrecy was paramount. Along with a number of other federal witnesses, Brenda moved into a hotel in Philadelphia where she went through weeks of background checking. Her past was combed for details th
at had to be scrubbed out of existence. New papers were fabricated. At first, she thought it was actually kind of cool when they handed her the new driver’s license and a new name.

  The end of March came and it was her birthday again. Brenda was in a hotel room in Philadelphia, alone. It was the second birthday she had spent by herself. The loneliness was an ache in her heart, but she knew it was a very sensitive stage of the Witness Protection Program and she was forbidden to call anyone. Brenda turned on the TV and reflected on being seventeen. She sighed and flipped through the stations. The television was her only company for the night.

  Brenda was, in fact, fascinated with the process of creating a new past. She had done a good job of creating stories herself while in the MS. Now, thanks to the marshals, she was from Ohio. Texas and California were completely erased. Her past life in Virginia disappeared, and the pieces that couldn’t be removed were buried under secrecy and protection. It sure is easier changing your story on the streets, she often thought, as the weeks went by. All documents relating to her past life were altered or erased, and a new identity was created. It was one thing to make up a story that people believed; it was altogether another to make that story true on government papers. Like many of the other witnesses, Brenda also enjoyed the first opportunity in a long time to sleep the deep sleep of someone who is truly safe. She was surrounded by protection twenty-four hours a day, fed and housed, and given any amenity she required, within reason and the law. Once Brenda was settled into the routine of the marshals’ orientation program, she did what was most natural to her and reached out to someone who would talk to her.

  She befriended a Latino boy who was not a member of MS-13 but was under similar circumstances. He was in her cohort of witness protection entries. He had entered the program at roughly the same time she did and was staying in the same hotel as Brenda during the orientation process. Over the weeks they spent together, it was easy to grow close. Around him, in this new world, she could be anyone. They were young, in a completely novel environment, and safe. Where some teens would be at camp or headed off to college, these two were holed up in a hotel, running from a strange and scary past, with no one else to turn to. They spent every moment together, and he quickly became her new best friend and lover.