by Matt Lincoln
He coughed as I drove my knee up into his stomach. I didn’t let up there, grabbing him by the hair and yanking his head up before punching him in the face again. He groaned as he lifted his hands up to his face. As he did, I swept my leg around to kick him in the back of the knees, sending him tumbling face-first into the ground. The moment he was down, I sank to the ground next to him and pulled both of his arms behind his back. To my amazement, he still hadn’t given up. He struggled against my hold, but I held on tight.
“Stop moving!” Linden’s voice suddenly rang out above me. I looked up and found him in the doorway, pointing his gun down at the suspect. The man immediately stopped resisting at the sight of the gun, and I was finally able to pull his wrists together to cuff them.
“Thanks,” I breathed as I clicked the handcuffs into place.
“Are you okay?” Linden asked as he put his gun back into its holster and knelt down to take over for me. “You look like hell.”
“I’m fine,” I rasped, my voice coming out hoarse and strained.
“Don’t sound fine,” Linden muttered as he looked past me toward the women still huddled up in the corner of the bathroom, watching everything with deer-in-the-headlights expressions.
“Hey, we need help here!” Linden yelled over his shoulder. A second later, two sets of footsteps came thundering down the hallway and into the bathroom. The two officers stopped as they spotted the girls and then looked down at the suspect on the floor.
“Let’s get him out of here,” one of the officers growled as he reached down to yank the suspect up off the floor. “At least get him away from them.” He glanced toward the women, who were almost entirely silent aside from a few muffled sobs and frightened whimpers.
I turned to look at them as Linden, and the two officers dragged the man who had choked me out of the bathroom.
“It’s alright,” I attempted to reassure them, though I felt that the effect was someone diminished by how weak and wheezy my voice sounded. “Everything’s going to be okay. My name is Agent Marston. I’m a federal agent, and those people who just left were police officers. You’re safe now. We’re going to get you out of here.”
Saying all of that hurt my throat fiercely, but I thought it was important to reassure the victims that they were safe now.
“Marston!” Holm exclaimed as he rushed into the bathroom, slowing slightly as he spotted the girls. “Are you okay? Linden said you got hurt during the fight.”
“One of the traffickers nearly crushed my windpipe,” I croaked, my eyes watering with the strain of talking.
“Oh, you sound bad,” he grumbled. “Okay, stop talking for now. We’ll get you fixed up soon.”
“Alright,” I replied as I turned to look back at the women. Ultimately, even more than capturing the suspects, ensuring that they were alive and safe was our top priority. My eyes roved over to the group of them until my gaze finally landed on the petite one that had come to my rescue. It relieved me to see that she was conscious and alert after that hit to the head, though I did note with dismay that her head was bleeding.
“Are you okay?” I asked her softly.
She still jumped, despite how quietly I’d spoken, before blinking up at me and nodding slowly.
“Good.” I smiled at her. “You really saved my life back there. Thank you.”
She continued to stare at me for a long moment, her expression wide-eyed and fearful. Gradually, however, a small smile began to form on her face. It was weak and a little sad, but I was glad to see it.
At that moment, I was immensely grateful that the two of us were both alive.
18
Ethan
“How’s your throat?” Holm asked as he handed me a bottle of water before sinking into the chair next to me.
“Hurts like hell,” I grumbled in response before opening the bottle and taking a sip, wincing as I swallowed it. The pain had only gotten worse as time passed, and my throat swelled. The doctor had told me that there wasn’t all that much they could do aside from providing some painkillers and a cold compress, which I was pressing against my throat at that very moment.
After the battle at the apartment, the cops had carted all the gang members we’d apprehended down to the station. In total, they had arrested five men, including the one I’d grappled with in the bathroom. Two others had been killed on the scene. Several officers had been shot during the fight, but none of the injuries were life-threatening. All of them were expected to make a full recovery.
I’d gone to the hospital along with all the women, as they’d already ingested the cocaine packets when we arrived. Apparently, they had to have their stomachs pumped in order to get the drugs out. I felt extremely bad for them, having to go through that after everything that they had already suffered. It certainly made my minor injury seem like nothing in comparison.
Now, Holm and I were back in Captain Lopez’s office. So much had happened just today that we needed to have a meeting to go over everything and figure out what our next steps should be. I pulled the cold compress away from my throat and took another sip of water. I was thirsty after all the physical action we’d seen today, but drinking anything caused spikes of pain to shoot down my throat.
The door opened with a creak behind me. I turned around just as Linden stepped into the office, holding a tablet under one arm.
“The captain is on his way,” he informed us as he walked toward the remaining empty chair in the office. “He’s trying to organize all the people we arrested. We’re not really used to having this many prisoners in the station at one time. We don’t get a lot of crime at all, actually. Usually, it’s just the drunks spending the night.”
“We understand,” I replied, wincing as the throat burned.
“How are you feeling?” Linden asked, visibly grimacing as he looked at my neck. I’d seen myself in the mirror earlier, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. My entire neck was blotchy red and swollen, so I could understand his expression.
“I’ve had worse,” I replied honestly. It definitely hurt, but I’d survived much worse trials. Heck, I’d been shot in the chest and had one of my lungs collapse just during our last mission. That had been several times worse than a little sore throat.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Linden replied, though he seemed thoroughly unconvinced. “Anyway, maybe this will help ease the pain a little bit. We found out the identity of the guy who attacked you.”
He turned on the tablet before handing it to me. On it was a criminal record so long that the entire screen wasn’t enough to contain it, and I had to scroll down in order to read the rest.
“Arthur Flanegin,” Linden scoffed as he shook his head. “The guy practically came out of the womb breaking the law. He’s a career criminal if I’ve ever seen one.”
I can see that, I thought to myself as I read through the mile-long rap sheet. Really, it would have been easier to name something this man hadn’t done. Theft, burglary, domestic assault, regular assault, even things like blackmailing and inciting violent behavior.
“This guy’s a real peach, isn’t he?” Holm remarked sarcastically as he leaned over in his chair to look at the tablet.
“Guess I should be grateful I’m alive,” I muttered as I handed the tablet back to Linden. “Murder’s one of the few crimes not listed on there.”
“That we’re aware of,” Linden retorted. “I have no doubt that there are a lot of crimes this man has committed that we just don’t know about.”
“Good point,” I replied as I gave up on trying to drink any more water and just set the bottle down on the ground next to me. There wasn’t any doubt in my mind either that Flanegin would have absolutely killed me in that bathroom if that young lady hadn’t bravely stepped in to fight against him for long enough for me to break free.
Just as I thought that, the office door creaked open again. This time, it was Captain Lopez who stepped inside.
“Sorry about the wait,” he apologized as he walked through the of
fice to his desk chair. He sighed as he sat down heavily into it. “It’s been quite an eventful day. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a day like this the entire time I’ve worked for the Oranjestad Police Force. Oh, how rude of me, how’s your throat, Agent Marston?”
“Fine,” I replied. Actually, I wished that people would stop asking me about it. Just responding to their questions was causing my throat to hurt more.
“That’s good,” he replied, his expression turning sour despite his positive words. “I was concerned when I heard about how many people were injured at the apartment. Too many officers were injured today. Fortunately, it seems like everyone is doing well.”
“What about the girls?” I asked, the face of the young woman who’d come to my aid still fresh in my mind. “How are they doing?”
“They’re recovering well,” Lopez replied. “The doctors informed me that they managed to remove all the drugs. It wasn’t pleasant, but they’ll be alright. We’re working with the Department of Social Welfare to ensure that they’re taken care of until we can get them safely back home.”
“That’s good,” I replied. “What about Anthony? I lost track of him during the battle, and then I got hauled off to the hospital. Is he okay?”
“He’s doing great,” Lopez replied, the corners of his lips rising up into a smile. “He didn’t want to return to the hospital, so we set him up in a hotel for the time being. From what I heard, he seemed extremely excited by the idea.”
“That’s good to hear,” I replied. I was glad that Anthony was okay as well. After all, he was the reason that we could find the Aruban gang, to begin with.
“Yes, well, let’s get down to business then, shall we?” Captain Lopez pushed forward. “As of now, we have over a dozen suspects in custody between the men we arrested from the ship and the ones that we arrested at the apartment. Do you intend to interrogate all of these men?”
“I don’t know if that’s necessary,” I replied as I thought about the best way to go about this. “Now that we’ve apprehended the Aruban gang members, I think they should be our focus. They’re the ones producing and selling the drugs, after all, so they’re ultimately the ones in charge of this entire operation. If we take them down, the rest of it will collapse.”
“That makes sense to me,” Lopez nodded. “So, for now, our goal is to track down the rest of the Aruban gang that’s producing these drugs?”
“Yes,” I replied, doing my best not to cringe as my throat tingled with pain. “We still need to find out exactly where the drugs that they’re forcing these victims to carry into the United States are coming from. Right now, we should interrogate the members of the Aruban gang to see what we can get out of them as far as finding the production site.”
“That sounds good to me.” Lopez nodded. “I’ll let you have at it, then.” He turned to look at Linden. “Gabe, you have the files over the suspects, right?”
“Yes, in here,” he replied as he lifted his tablet up. “All of their prints came back, though a few of them didn’t actually have any priors.”
“That’s about to change,” Lopez grumbled. “You can use the main interrogation room since I suspect this will probably take a while. Let me know if there’s anything that you need.”
“Alright,” Linden replied as he stood up. Holm and I followed suit.
“Is there any particular order you’d like to go in?” Linden asked as he led the way out of the office and out onto the main floor. “We can start with Flanegin if you want. He’s definitely got the longest track record of all of them.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” I replied as we walked toward the area with the holding cells.
“The ones from the apartment are on the left side,” he informed me as he unlocked the door that led into the holding cell area. There was a row of cells lined up against the wall, each one holding two prisoners each. A uniformed officer sat in a rolling chair at one end of the room, his feet propped up on the desk and a book open in his lap.
“Hey, Ivan,” Linden greeted him as he walked into the large room.
“Hey, Gabe,” the officer greeted back. “You guys ready to start the questioning?” He opened a drawer and dug through it for a moment before producing a set of keys dangling off a bright red keychain in the shape of a smiley face.
“Yep,” Linden replied as he walked over to him to grab the keys. As he did, I scanned over the prisoners, searching for Flanegin, who we would interrogate first. I froze, however, when I spotted someone else.
“It’s him,” I pointed the man out to Holm. Tall, medium-build with dark hair and a mean, unfriendly face. “The guy from the dining room.”
“What?” Holm asked as he turned to look at the man in the cell. I could almost see the figurative light bulb go on over his head as he realized what I was talking about. “You’re right, but how…? He was on the first cruise ship. How did he get to Aruba?”
“Same way we did, I assume,” I replied as I glared at the man. “On an airplane. Hey Linden.” I turned to get our liaison’s attention as he moved toward one of the other cells.
“What is it?” He asked curiously, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion as he took in our serious expressions.
“The man in the black shirt, in the second cell,” I pointed him out quietly so that only Linden and Holm would be able to hear me. “Was he one of the men that were arrested at the apartment?”
“Uh, yeah,” he replied as he opened the tablet and flipped through the files on it. “Tomas Ruiz. He was one of the ones that didn’t have any record on file. Why?”
“We need to speak with him,” I replied as I watched the man. It seemed that he’d realized we were talking about it because he was looking back at us with a guarded, wary expression. “He was on the first ship, the one where the first wave of victims died.”
Linden’s eyes went wide with surprise at my words, but he recovered quickly, turning around to unlock the cell that familiar man was sitting in.
“Tomas Ruiz,” Linden called his name. “Walk this way, slowly, with your hands behind your head.”
Ruiz looked back and forth between the three of us for a moment before slowly getting to his feet and complying with the order. Once he was outside the cell, Linden pulled his hands down behind his back and handcuffed them.
“Come on,” he stated firmly as he guided the man out of the holding cell area and back out onto the main floor. As he did, the other officer stood up from his seat and locked the cell door again, making sure to retrieve the keys before settling back into his chair and resuming his reading.
Holm and I followed Linden and Ruiz out through the door and down the hallway. Linden came to a stop in front of one of the doors before punching a code in. The door opened with a click, and Linden nudged it open further before guiding Ruiz inside and leading him to sit in one of the chairs. He then took the handcuffs off and tucked them back onto his belt before walking back out and closing the door without a word.
“Let’s go into the next room,” Linden suggested as he nodded toward the next door over. We followed him inside, and I realized that the adjoining room was actually connected to the first via a one-way mirror. Ruiz remained sitting inside the room, looking confused and angry but not particularly nervous.
“You’re not going to cuff him down?” I asked as I noticed that he wasn’t chained to the floor or cuffed to the table.
“What?” Linden looked at me, an expression of bewilderment on his face. “What do you mean? Do you usually keep suspects cuffed while you’re questioning them in the States?”
“Not always,” I replied. “Though we’ve been jumped enough times during interrogations that we prefer to make sure they’re restricted to some degree.”
“Do you think he’ll try to do something?” Linden asked as he turned to look at Ruiz. “We don’t really have anything that we could handcuff him to in there, except maybe one of the table legs. I don’t think that would really be humane, though.
&n
bsp; I looked over at Ruiz as well. He didn’t seem particularly agitated or aggressive, unlike the man who had jumped me and nearly crushed my windpipe. For now, he didn’t seem like much of a threat, though it was always possible that could change. Hell, I’d once been bitten by a suspect who suddenly decided to turn violent in the middle of an interrogation. In the US, interrogation room tables and floors often had bolts that you could bind a suspect to. I sometimes forget that not every country handled criminals the same way.
“It’ll probably be fine,” I replied. “He doesn’t seem too agitated, and I think we can handle him between the three of us.”
“Alright,” Linden replied. “Anyway, how do you two want to go about this? You said that there was a reason you wanted to interrogate him and not any of the other suspects, right?”
“Yes,” I replied as I crossed my arms over my chest. “He was caught on security footage on the other ship, roughly treating one of the victims who was later found dead. He’s obviously not from the California side of things since he came all the way back here. I want to talk to him about what happened on the other ship.”
“I understand,” Linden replied. “Are you ready to go in?”
“Just one second,” I replied as I looked over at Holm. “Do you have your tablet with you?”
“It’s in the car. Why? Do we need it?”
“Yeah, I’m going to go get it,” I replied as I stepped toward the door. “I want to show him the footage we have of him on the ship. Plus, I’ve got a hunch about something else as well.”
I turned and left the interrogation room to head out to the car. As I told Holm, the security video was only half of the reason I wanted to retrieve the tablet. The other was actually the small shopping card that we’d found in Andre’s room. It was a long shot, but I had a feeling that Ruiz might just know something about it.
As I stepped out of the police station and into the sun, I was slightly surprised to discover how bright it still was outside. So much had already happened today, but since we’d started before dawn, it still wasn’t even nightfall.