The Cartel Enforcers (The Bill Dix Detective Series Book 2)

by Swinney, C. L.

  They worked throughout the night. Out of the forty to fifty law enforcement candidates who may be involved with the case, they were able to narrow the list down to seven. The others weren’t off the hook and were still considered to be involved; however, they’d work back to them if needed. Right now they had to quietly figure out how to eliminate each name from the list and hope Pedro stayed alive long enough for them to do it.

  Chapter 10

  * * *

  Jose Calderon graduated college, spent two years in graduate school, and used substantial cash advances from the cartel to become a prominent business man in the Gas Lamp District of San Diego. His restaurant, El Diablo, was quite successful. It also served as a front for large scale narcotics trafficking. Once the narcotics were across the border, they were distributed to the Central Valley and the San Francisco Bay Area. He often hosted fundraisers at El Diablo for local foundations/organizations. His most frequent customers at the restaurant tended to be local law enforcement. On occasion he volunteered at the local soccer clubs where his nieces and nephews played. He hid his underworld dealings solidly behind the façade of being a supportive local business owner and dedicated family man. He smiled to himself as he reflected on how much he enjoyed operating right under their noses. He sipped tequila waiting for the contact to arrive.

  The agent arrived shortly after 6 p.m. It was not uncommon for many different types of law enforcement officials to frequent El Diablo, so it appeared business as usual for Calderon and him to meet. However, while Calderon was calm, the agent knew treacherous times were ahead.

  “I see you arrived in the Porsche we bought you, a little flashy for a HSI agent isn’t it?” Calderon asked the HSI agent.

  “I’m single, and thanks to you I work continuous overtime. It’s flashy, but easily explained. Nonetheless, if you want me to get rid of it, just say the word.”

  “No. Just remember who you work for. By the way, how are your parents doing in Michoacán?” Calderon chuckled subtly as he screwed with the agent.

  The HSI agent made a decision years ago that he had regretted every moment of every day since. He received a set of photographs of his parents, brother, and two sisters being surveilled around the small town where they resided. Along with the photos were written notes of each person’s daily routine. The last photo, the most menacing, was taken inside his parent’s small house and showed two masked men pointing shotguns at his parents while they slept. He did not know how the cartel figured things out, but it did not matter. His family in Mexico was watched daily. He felt he had to participate in some manner or his family would be murdered. From that point on, he began providing intelligence to the cartel to keep his family alive. The cartel payoffs he received were sent home. It was the only way they survived. They were extremely poor and too ill to work.

  “I know who I work for, at least for now. I’m working on getting the location of your snitch, but it isn’t easy.” He needed to be careful how he dealt with Calderon because everyone was on edge and the wrong statement could cost him his life.

  Calderon enjoyed toying with him. His disdain for law enforcement drove him to torment the agent every chance he got. “I sincerely hope you have an answer in 12 hours. If not, my people will start by kidnapping, raping, and killing your two sisters. Their heads will be sent to your parents when my men are done.”

  He shot a glance up at Calderon of desperation. Calderon spoke the truth when it came to killing.

  “Okay, okay, I’m doing the best I can. I know he’s in a safe location getting medical treatment. There are only a few hospitals in the area capable of providing the treatment he needed after your men failed.”

  Calderon sensed the subtle jab. He coolly replied, “You worry about what I tell you to worry about. The men who failed me are already dead. You’re next if you don’t tell me where he is, what room he’s in, and how many men are guarding him.”

  “You can’t just storm the place. Your men won’t make it through the security as well as the gauntlet of agents and officers guarding him,” he replied excitedly.

  “You’re absolutely right,” Calderon replied. He had a sheepish grin on his face and was staring at him. “That’s why you’re going to kill him for me.”

  The agent’s phone rang. “Yeah, okay, you’re sure?” he looked over at Calderon anxiously, “all right, I’ve got it from here.” He had a smug look on his face that Calderon didn’t care for.

  “Wipe that look off your face,” Calderon said to the agent.

  “Relax, I know exactly where Pedro is, but you need to get people in there now before they move him again,” replied the agent. A subtle tinge of guilt followed, but he considered it was either Pedro or his family who would lose their lives-and he chose to save his family.

  Chapter 11

  * * *

  Pedro lay in constant pain in an uncomfortable bed at Scripps Hospital, room #301. Pain medications made some of the injuries he sustained tolerable, but persistent. He had no idea what his next move was and as he tried to sit up, he moaned and grimaced. His entire body hurt. Whatever he was going to do, he needed help, because it was clear he could not move without assistance.

  He racked his brain in an effort to think of someone, anyone he could reach out to for help. Based on the events of the day prior, he had to assume his network of contacts was off limits and his family was dead. If he was going to extract revenge, he would have to cooperate completely with the police. The thought alone spiked his heart rate, which brought several nurses, doctors, and special agents to his room to check on him.

  Medical staff began feverishly questioning him while they examined him with great concern.

  “I’m okay, just had a bad dream.” The heart monitor and blood pressure gauge supported his claim as they indicated both were returning to normal. One by one, the medical staff cleared the room. Two special agents remained.

  One agent informed the remaining nurse as she walked out of the room, “We’re going to need a little privacy as we question Mr.Munguia in an effort to better protect him.”

  The nurse nodded and dutifully exited while saying, “No problem. Let us know if you need anything.”

  The agent shut and discreetly locked the door. He glanced over to see his partner pull the drapes shut and advance toward Pedro’s bed. After manipulating the medical equipment to ensure no interruptions by medical staff, both agents positioned themselves on either side of Pedro’s bed.

  Pedro was in and out of consciousnesses and hadn’t caught on to the odd behavior by the agents. He became aware there was a problem as one agent simultaneously covered his mouth and the other stuck his thumb into the recently repaired bullet wound in his arm and twisted.

  Excruciating pain overwhelmed Pedro. He had no strength to resist and he tried to scream for help. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. He felt himself slipping away as the nausea from the pain caused him to vomit on the perpetrator’s hand that was covering his mouth.

  The bigger of the two impostors bent down and whispered in his ear, “Tell us where the money is and we will kill you quick. If not, this may take awhile.”

  Again with the money, thought Pedro. Even if he knew where it was he wouldn’t tell these bastards. It was the only thing keeping him alive… for the moment. However, the pain made him feel he may actually be better off dead.

  Pedro shook his head over and over. They continued to torture him with reckless abandon by holding a pillow over his face and probing the wound in his arm. He felt himself slipping away. Where the hell is the police, he wondered.

  Suddenly the large window of his room that faced the parking structure shattered as two 40 millimeter flash bang rounds flew through and bounced around the room like ping pong balls. The percussion and blinding light as they exploded knocked the suspects down. At the same time, the door was blown off its hinges by well placed shotgun rounds.

  Sheriff’s Office SWAT deputies entered the room in unison as the perpetrators fumbled for their
side arms and struggled to understand what just happened. The SWAT team leader and forward cover deputy took quick and accurate kill shots. Both suspects were immobilized immediately.

  The room was systematically cleared for further threats. There was no time to celebrate as one of the deputies noticed Pedro was seizing and shaking uncontrollably. Bewildered medical staff filled the room and began trying to resuscitate him. The grim look on their faces suggested their efforts may not be enough. They continued to work on him and noticed the fresh blood coming from his arm wound. They worked on him until he became stable again. The charge nurse stated, “This guy’s got nine damn lives.”

  From his secure and secluded location, Jose Calderon had watched the counter assault on room #301. He hoped if nothing else, Pedro would be dead before the SWAT team arrived. If he was not, he decided he would exhaust every resource he had to make sure Pedro would die. He saw a lot of commotion and noticed a group of cops exit the hospital, their faces showed pride and happiness. Son-of-a-bitch, thought Calderon, the bastard survived.

  Chapter 12

  * * *

  A command post was set up in the hospital parking lot based on the seriousness of the attempt on Pedro’s life. As soon as the HSI Regional Agent in Charge (RAC) and the San Diego County Sheriff’s Office Sheriff arrived on scene, they demanded an immediate debrief. All the agencies involved had plenty of questions and were obviously beside themselves. No one could understand how this happened.

  A few minutes later the SUV driven by Kovach and carrying Dix, Petersen, and Romero pulled under the yellow caution tape and drove directly to the door leading to the briefing room within the command post. As the SUV came to a stop, Petersen jumped out eager to figure out what went down.

  The situational debrief was scheduled to be given by HSI Special Agent Michelle Sullivan. She made the gruesome discovery in the stairwell of two dead agents, which lead to the rescue of Pedro for the second time.

  Everyone in the room was talking as SA Sullivan cleared her throat in an effort to gain their attention. She was extremely nervous and found it difficult to be amidst so many high-ranking officials. Don’t let them see you sweat, she thought as her heart thumped in her chest.

  SA Sullivan explained, “Gentlemen. This is what we know so far. I was assigned as secondary perimeter for Mr. Munguia. I received information from a second CS that a plot was set in motion to kill Mr. Munguia this morning. While I stepped into the stairwell to continue the call with my CS, I saw a small blood trail leading down to the second floor. I followed the trail and located Special Agents Burnett and Carlino. Both were obviously dead and it appeared their throats were sliced with piano or similar type wire.” With the grumbling in the room after the mention of the deaths of SA Burnett and SA Carlino, Sullivan seized the opportunity to sip some water and cure her dry mouth. She

  could feel herself beginning to get emotional, not because of the magnitude of the event, but because she was previously romantically involved with one of the deceased agents. She struggled to fight back shakiness in her voice.

  She continued, “I assumed the assailants were already in Mr. Munguia’s room based on my discovery. As I alerted the standby SWAT Team and my superior of the situation over the radio, Mr. Munguia suffered some sort of medical problem. In addition, the radios were not working well due to all the steel in the structure of the hospital. Medical staff responded to Mr. Munguia’s room, as did the two individuals we think killed SA Burnett and SA Carlino.” The frustration and anger on the faces of the men in the room bore down on her. She felt her face burning and knew she was turning bright red. Nevertheless, she plowed through the debrief hoping to earn herself a spot at the table for the entirety of this case.

  “Once medical staff was confident Mr. Munguia was fine, they exited his room. The two suspects stayed behind. One of the suspects told the last nurse leaving the room they needed time to talk to Mr. Munguia in private. One suspect then shut the door.” At this point SA Sullivan wondered to herself why the medical staff wasn’t suspicious of the two suspects when they closed the door, but before she could explain the situation further, San Diego County Sheriff Libal interjected.

  “Cut the formalities Sullivan. I want to know exactly how this happened. Then I want to know how the hell we’re going to stop it from happening again,” asked Sheriff Libal.

  SA Sullivan was about to answer the question when her boss, GS Doug Kovach made eye contact with her, shook his head, and stood up.

  Kovach said, “Sheriff, let SA Sullivan finish the debrief. We’ll roundtable this right afterward.”

  Sheriff Libal wanted answers, but he begrudgingly conceded the floor.

  She continued, “A report of two suspicious men on the second floor came out simultaneously with Mr. Munguia’s medical issue. A bomb threat was called into dispatch for the hospital lobby. Special Agents investigated the reports and the medical staff had no idea the suspects in Mr. Munguia’s room were not real agents because there were a number of new faces in the hospital lately. Within minutes, the SWAT Team was going one way and the remaining special agents headed in another. SWAT Commander Elzey made a swift decision to attack Mr. Munguia’s room from two points. SWAT Team A deployed flash bangs through the window while SWAT Team B made entry through the door to room #301. The SWAT teams were successful and both suspects were killed and Mr. Munguia was found alive but tortured and experiencing a medical complication.” By now SA Sullivan was calm and felt more comfortable. Her mouth was still dry and she grabbed her glass of water for another sip.

  Murmuring and small discussions began to break out while she drank. Discussions between special agents and sheriff’s deputies grew louder and the tension in the room grew by the second. Dix and Petersen looked at each other while Kovach attempted to feign confidence.

  SA Sullivan made an effort to ease the friction in the room. She interrupted, “The two suspects have been positively identified as Mexican nationals with strong cartel ties. I’m just as upset about our two agents being killed as the rest of you. But we have to move forward. Whatever Mr. Munguia has gotten himself into is big and has international connections. We need to create a thorough game plan and we need to do it now with level heads.”

  Dix raised his eyebrow after he listened to the compelling speech made by SA Sullivan. The situation had gone from bad to worse and she was right. The people hunting Pedro were counting on the chaos to weaken law enforcement defenses. This was textbook cartel tactics, and Dix felt the situation was grim.

  Petersen had heard very little of what SA Sullivan had said because he was shocked at how pretty she was. It literally caught him off guard and he spent the entire time she was talking gawking at her. Her eyes were electric blue and inviting. It had been two years since he’d been with a woman and for some reason, she struck some type of feelings inside him the moment he saw her. Dix observed Petersen staring at her and snapped his fingers. This caused him to look at Dix and see that the wheels were spinning in his head and he had a disapproving look.

  Dix stood up and walked to the podium at the front of the room. Conversations terminated and the room became silent. SA Sullivan opened her mouth to speak but the look she got from Dix caused her to stop quickly.

  Dix cut in, “We lost two great agents today. We need to bury them properly, as heroes, and catch the bastards behind all this in honor of their memories. But make no mistake, we’re dealing with an entirely different animal here. This isn’t just a dope case. This is a large well-organized, well-funded sleeper cell of a Mexican cartel that has been operating under your noses for years. The only way we put the people away responsible for the murders of Special Agent Burnett and Special Agent Carlino is to pool our resources and work together.”

  The tension in the room immediately eased up as it was obvious Dix was correct. The remainder of the debrief was concluded, and the administration staff ordered everyone to keep quiet about the facts. Under no circumstance was anyone allowed to speak to the med
ia.

  Kovach, Dix, Petersen, and Romero stayed behind to have a discussion while the others cleared the room...accept

  SA Sullivan. Dix could see that she was gathering her papers slowly and wanted to be invited to the discussion. He motioned toward her with his head so that Kovach could see. He looked at Dix with a puzzled look then realized he was inquiring as to whether or not SA Sullivan could be a part of the discussion. He thought briefly then nodded.

  Dix looked over at her. “That was pretty good special agent. You want in on this case?” She’d heard several stories about Bill Dix, most of them about him being a real hard ass. But near as she could tell, he was more matter of fact than a hard ass.

  She tried to contain her excitement but she couldn’t. She smiled and nervously said, “You bet I do!”

  Dix motioned for her to come over to the large table where they were seated. She quickly grabbed her stuff and obliged. As she did this, Petersen noticed Romero roll his eyes and shake his head in disgust.

  Petersen wasn’t entirely fond of Romero, although he wasn’t entirely sure why, but jumped at the opportunity to put him on the spot. “Hey Romero, what’s with the rolling of the eyes? You got a problem with Dix? Or is it with Sullivan?”

  Romero was caught off guard by the question, particularly in how it was posed to him. He turned red in the face and shot a glance at Kovach like he expected him to bail him out as he had bailed out Sullivan earlier. Kovach said nothing and looked at Romero, as did Sullivan, Dix, and Petersen. Romero figured, to hell with it, and decided to speak freely.

  “This case is extremely sophisticated and mushrooming out of control. I’ve worked with Sullivan. She can’t handle this.”

  Without allowing anyone to reply, Sullivan spoke up. “With all due respect Romero, it’s not my fault I shoot better than you, write better than you, have put more people in jail than you, and got positions you wanted.” She was feeling righteous and was preparing for a full on verbal argument with him. His response stunned her.