by Dan Sears
THE LAW
AND
DAN MESA
EAST MEET WEST
DAN SEARS
iUniverse, Inc.
Bloomington
The Law and Dan Mesa
East Meet West
Copyright © 2012 by Dan Sears.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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ISBN: 978-1-4759-3016-0 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4759-3018-4 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4759-3017-7 (ebk)
Printed in the United States of America
iUniverse rev. date: 05/31/2012
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
The Author
This book is dedicated to those who enforce the law. As someone once said, “It is a dirty job, but someone has to do it.” The law is what we live and die by, whether it be God’s law or man’s. Without law, there would be total chaos. Without officers of the law to enforce the law, society could not exist. The line between enforcement of the law and revenge becomes very slim at times. The idea of justice can become somewhat suspect.
Chapter One
Captain Robert Emmett of the Richmond, Virginia, Police Department has just gotten to work for the midnight shift and is sorting through the messages and letters. Captain Emmett is a veteran police officer of twenty-five years on the force. He finds a message from the commander of the Arizona rangers stating that a Sergeant Daniel Mesa will arrive to escort William J. Ranson back to Nogales, Arizona, to testify against Carlos Meana, a local trafficker in illegal aliens and murder for hire.
Sergeant Dan Mesa will arrive on August 12 to escort Ranson back to Nogales. Please accord him all courtesy and assistance. We are forever in your debt.
A Colonel Grant signed the message.
Captain Emmett curses and yells for the Desk Sergeant saying, “Sergeant Anderson, get Ranson ready to go back to Arizona. The rangers are sending one of their people to pick him up.”
Sergeant Anderson hesitates and asks, “Captain, do you mean the Texas Rangers?”
Captain Emmett smiles and says, “No, I mean the Arizona rangers. They still exist, sergeant, and we will meet one in a few hours. His name is Daniel Mesa, a sergeant.”
Ranson is brought upstairs and put into the holding cell. He is a tall slender man who is upset and nervous. He is contantly looking around as if he is expecting something or someone.
“Why am I being put into the holding cell?” he asks. “Where am I being sent?”.
“You are being returned to Arizona, to Nogales,” Sergeant Anderson says. “One of the rangers is coming for you.”
“What is the name of the ranger?” Ranson quickly asks.
“A Sergeant Dan Mesa,” Anderson replies.
“Oh no, not him. Please? That ranger is one of the meanest people in Arizona. He never smiles, and he has killed probably ten men. He actually stood in the middle of the streets and had a shoot-out with another guy. He is fast with guns, sticks, or anything. Why did they send him?”
Anderson looks at Ranson and asks, “Does he know you?”
“No,” Ranson says, “but Sergeant Dan Mesa is a cross between Langford Peel and Bill Tilgman. He got into a fight with a fella I know in Phoenix. This guy weighs around two hundred pounds, and Mesa weighs about one fifty, but it didn’t matter. He beat that guy something terrible and never received so much as a bruise. Then he bought him a drink and walked out of the bar.”
Sergeant Anderson walks into the captain’s office with a frown on his face and relates what Ranson has just told him.
A patrolman, Jim Hennessey, is listening and says, “You know, there was a Captain Daniel Mesa who was assigned to Turkey during the Gulf War, and he was ‘Hell on Wheels.’ They tried to kill him several times, and he survived each attempt. He also served in Vietnam, and rumor has it he killed a few people during the fall of Saigon in 1975. There were many rumors about him. He was a good officer. He was also enlisted at one time—a staff sergeant, I believe. He was respected, but he never got close to anyone. It was as if he was afraid.”
Captain Emmett turns to Hennessey.
“Stick around,” he says. “I want you to tell me if he is the same person.”
In Baltimore, a father and son are saying good-bye to each other. They are standing in the hallway and both have tears in their eyes.
Dan Mesa hugs his son.
“Devlin, Daddy has to go back to Arizona today,” he says. “I’ve had a great time visiting you and your mom. Maybe you can visit me at Christmas, if Mommy doesn’t mind?” Garnett has been watching them and finds it difficult to what she sees.
He turns to Garnett, who says, “Of course, he can visit at Christmas. It will give me a chance to visit some friends in Las Vegas.”
“Garnett, I want to say thanks for letting me visit. I needed a break after that last incident. I am happy that we are at least friendly toward each other. I still . . . Anyway, I’d better get started for Richmond.”
He hugs his son and walks away a little sadder but a little happier too.
Captain Emment later tells a friend, “In walks this guy who is about five feet five inches tall, weighing about a hundred fifty pounds, wearing jeans, a green western shirt, a Ranger Star, brown boots, and a gray western hat. He looked totally out of place in Richmond, Virginia,”
Mesa walks into the police station and speaks to the desk sergeant.
“I am Sergeant Daniel Mesa of the Arizona Rangers,” he says. “And I am here to escort William J. Ranson back to Nogales, Arizona. I have the necessary papers for extradition. Your commander should have received a communiqué from the rangers’ commander, Colonel Grant.”
“Ranger,” the sergeant says, “Captain Emmett is waiting for you in his office. I’ll show you in.”
“Thank you, sergeant.”
As Mesa walks through the area, he notices people staring at him. Suddenly, he realizes they are looking at the way he is dressed.
“I am fro
m Arizona,” he says, “and this is how we dress.”
The sergeant takes Mesa into the captain’s office.
“Sir,” he says, “this is the Ranger you are expecting.”
“Thank you, sergeant. Welcome to Richmond, Virginia, Ranger Mesa. I received the message from your colonel, and we have Ranson ready for extradition. We should have you ready to go in less than an hour. Is that okay?”
“Yes, sir, that is very good.”
A voice behind him says, “Captain Mesa, how are you?”
Mesa turns and immediately recognizes retired Master Sergeant Jim Hennessey.
“Hello, sergeant,” Mesa says. “It has been a while. I am happy to see you. Captain Emmett, Sergeant Hennessey was an excellent trooper in the air force, and from appearances, I’d say he is the same as a policeman.”
“Thank you, Captain Mesa, for the compliment,” Sergeant Hennessy says, smiling. “And I try my best to do my job. Captain, how did you wind up as a ranger? I didn’t know Arizona had rangers.”
Mesa smiles.
“When I retired, I started teaching high school ROTC, and a friend told me about the rangers. I was able to help them in an emergency, and they hired me. That is the mini version of it. I love my job; it fits my personality.”
“It is good to see you again, captain.”
Hennessey shakes Mesa’s hand and departs.
Suddenly, Captain Emmett says, “Now I know who you are. You are the ranger who tracked that Jackson fella and wound up in a fight and a shoot-out in the streets of Albuquerque, aren’t you?”
Sergeant Mesa’s whole demeanor changes, and the captain sees his sudden alertness.
“Hold on, sergeant; no need to fear. We are all friends here. It’s just that you don’t see those kinds of things too often. I saw it on Ted Koppel’s Nightline. You are some kind of folk hero.”
“Captain Emmett, I would appreciate it if you kept that quiet. People don’t like to have people like me around. They consider me to be too violent. In reality, I just do my job as is required of me.”
“Ranger, I’d say you are damn good at it. I wish I had two like you and Hennessey. He has a lot of your traits. He is one darn good policeman.”
Mesa attempts to change the subject, asking, “Captain, is there a place where I can get breakfast? I haven’t eaten yet.”
“Yes, there is a cafeteria upstairs. By the time you finish your breakfast, Ranson will be ready to go.”
Meanwhile, Carlos Meana is holding court in his palatial home in northeast Tucson. The house is located in the hills surrounded by a tall brick wall and security cameras. Antonio Blackbear, his faithful friend is by his side.
“Carlos, what are we going to do about William J. Ranson? If that guy goes to court and testifies, it could hurt us. Let me take him out, please?”
“Antonio, we will wait and see how it plays out. I know the rangers will be escorting him back to Nogales. I don’t want to cross them unless I have to. There is one ranger I don’t want after me. I am not afraid of him, but why borrow trouble before it is necessary? We will wait for now,” Carlos says. “Now, tell me about that shipment of illegals coming in. Have we enough locations to send them and do we have enough transportation?”
“Boss we have around two thousand units,” Antonio briefs Carlos, meaning people “that need to be sent out. California needs around five hundred at fifteen hundred dollars each which equals seven hundred fifty thousand dollars. North Carolina needs five hundred units, which makes one thousand five million. Texas wants five hundred units, and Louisiana wants five hundred, making a total of three million dollars for this month alone. What do you think, boss?”
Antonio, a tall handsome Mescalero Apache, is wanted in Texas, New Mexico, and of all places, Arkansas. He was vacationing in Hot Springs when he was cited for having a concealed weapon. He shot a policeman in the foot and escaped. The policeman survived, and the state issued a warrant for his arrest for assault of a police officer.
Carlos beams.
“I like dealing in illegals a lot better than drugs,” he says. “This drug business is too dangerous. With illegals, I am at least giving them a better life. Drugs only destroy. If it proves to be worth the effort, I am giving up the drug trade and going full-time into illegals. That way, the federal boys won’t be on my case as hard. I can get politicians and the big ranchers and farmers on my side.”
“Boss, I like the way you are thinking. I too would love to give up the drug business. I can easily justify dealing in illegals, but not so with drugs. Let’s make this trade in illegals work.”
Carlos likes the idea more than he lets on, because he has ideas of becoming legitimate and making inroads into politics through the back door. He wants to be advisor to the big boys—judges, senators, and such. These are bold ambitions for a glorified drug pusher. Carlos knows that the killing of Ranson is essential, but he will hold off until absolutely necessary. It would be better yet just to kidnap him. Yes, kidnap William J. Ranson and put him on ice, he thinks. If that is done, then no one has to die. Killing can be so messy, yet it has solved a lot of problems, like that friend of Dan Mesa’s Carlos killed many years ago. He was too smart for his own good. But Mesa has suspected that Carlos was responsible; Carlos knows that Mesa will one day come for him.
“Antonio, do you still have that friend in the ranger headquarters in Tucson? If you do, then find out who is escorting Ranson back from Richmond and let me know.”
“Boss, I already know that,” Antonio says. He seems anxious to please his boss. “The escort will be Ranger Dan Mesa, that gun slinging ranger who killed Jose a few weeks ago. What’s up, boss?”
Carlos thinks it would be great to kidnap Ranson and kill Mesa at the same time.
“Antonio,” he says, “put together a two-man team and have them kidnap Ranson as they leave the police station in Richmond. If Mesa is accidentally killed, that will be okay too. Maybe you are right. Maybe getting rid of Ranson is the thing to do.”
“Carlos, I don’t mean to tell you what to do,” Antonio says, “but killing Dan Mesa is not in our best interest. He is a hard man to kill, and if he is only injured, we both know that, as soon as he finds out who is behind the kidnapping, he will come for us. I recommend we just kidnap Ranson and leave Mesa be.”
“Antonio, Mesa is a threat to everything I am trying to do. I can’t let him stand in the way. One of these days, he will figure out who had that ranger killed. When he does, he will destroy me unless I destroy him first. I want you to contact our friends in DC and have them take care of both Ranson and Mesa. Make sure there isn’t a paper trail or any other trail back to us. Do you understand what I am asking?”
“Sí, patron, entiendo.”
In Washington, DC, anything can be had or done if the money is right. Poverty in DC is a constant thing, and it spills over into Baltimore. There is an area of Baltimore named Cherry Hill that is primarily rundown projects and shabby stores. Most of the inhabitants have just given up on the dream of owning their own homes. They are just surviving from day to day. The sounds of police sirens, loud voices, and loud music are the texture of Cherry Hill.
Raymondo Sandoval and Jefferson Mitchell are products of this particular segment of humanity. They are two young men—one Puerto Rican and the other African American—who have reached the conclusion that the only way to escape to a better life is to take advantage of others. Both have police records and are convinced they are people to be reckoned with.
They receive a phone call from Vermenti Pellegrinni, another victim of circumstances as he refers to himself. He is well-known by the Council on Criminal Behavior and by the DC and Baltimore police departments. He is suspected of having killed at least two other members of the mob and the firebombing of at least five mob-owned nightclubs.
The phone call Mitchell and Sandoval r
eceive orders them to go to Richmond, Virginia, and kill William J. Ranson and Ranger Daniel Mesa as they depart the Richmond Police Department. They are supplied with pictures of Ranson and Mesa; the mob has a plant in the Richmond Police Department.
Dan Mesa is deep in thought when the waitress asks, “Sir would you like a refill of coffee? Man, you were deep in thought. I had to ask you three times if you wanted more coffee. Your expression was one of torment. You will have to forgive me, because I am a psychology major at the university; sometimes I get carried away with my knowledge of psychology or lack thereof.”
Mesa smiles and says, “No harm done. I was just thinking of a friend who was injured protecting me. How much do I owe you?”
When she tells him, he pays the bill and leaves hurriedly.
By coincidence Mitchell and Sandoval are seated in the same restaurant.
Mitchell stops the waitress and asks, “Who is that fellow who just left? He surely doesn’t seem to be from these parts.”
“He is an Arizona ranger,” she says. “He is the one they did that feature about on Ted Koppel’s Nightline. Remember that fight and shoot-out in Albuquerque, New Mexico, about two or three weeks ago?”
Mitchell and Sandoval gets up and leaves without comment. They goes outside and watches as the ranger returns to the police station. Mitchell gets into a tan and white Ford Explorer with Washington, DC, tags.
“Mitchell looks at Sandoval and says; “Well, I’ll be damned. How lucky can we get? Let’s pull over there in front of the station and look for a back entrance.”
Sandoval and Mitchell find the rear entrance for detainees and position themselves for the hit.
Inside the police station, Ranson is removed from the holding cell and is prepped for departure. Dan Mesa puts on his body armor and accompanies Sergeant Hennessey to the waiting police car. As they exit the overhang, a shot rings out, and Sergeant Hennessey falls. Mesa grabs Hennessey’s weapon and returns fire, hitting Mitchell twice once in the stomach and once in the leg. Sandoval fires and misses. Mesa fires hitting Sandoval in the arm. Sandoval escapes.