by Dan Arnold
“That said; we want to move on this guy Watkins. We mean to convince him we have enough evidence to get him put away for murder, maybe even facing a death sentence. We’ll offer him a deal. If he becomes a confidential informant for us, we’ll make the murder charges go away.” SAIC Mansfield interjected.
I didn’t like it. Watkins couldn’t be allowed to go back on the streets. He was almost certainly a cold blooded killer. It would mean putting Gary’s life at risk.
I understood the notion that one man’s life was a small consideration when saving many lives was the goal. From the perspective of the federal government, one dead Mexican was no longer important in the whole big scheme of things. I understood that too, but I still didn’t like it.
Tony and I made eye contact for a moment. He gave me the slightest nod, and then he spoke up.
“I know you’ve cleared this with the Chief and the DA, Agent Mansfield. Still, I would remind you, the murder investigation is a local matter and not within the jurisdiction of the bureau. We don’t have to let you take over our murder investigation, or let our suspect go free as a bird.” He pointed out.
“That’s technically correct, Lieutenant, but I would remind you - matters of national security trump all other considerations.” Jack replied.
“In matters of national security, you can throw all the rules out the window. Is that it, Jack?” I asked.
“In a word, yes, John,” he replied with a shrug. “Just to simplify everyone’s thinking on this.”
“Let me ask you a question. Do you think we could wait a few days before you make the arrest?” I asked.
Jack was rubbing his chin. He looked over at SAIC Mansfield, and shrugged again.
“Possibly, why do you ask?”
“My man is in a position to try to get into the inner circle within the radical wing of the RAGs. He’ll need some time to do it. If you snatch up Watkins, he’ll lose his connection and there goes the opportunity.”
“Yes, I see. It would be to our advantage for him to get into the RAGs. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll make the arrest immediately. If it does work, we’ll make the arrest at a more opportune time, when our man won’t need Watkins anymore.” Mansfield mused.
“The thing is; if Watkins starts working for you, he could rat out my man to the RAGs. Getting an FBI informant killed would help cement Watkins’ position in the group. I won’t put my friend in that position.”
“We can prevent Watkins from trying something like that.”
Also, he won’t be able to testify against Watkins, if he’s part of an ongoing counter terrorism operation.” I looked to Tony for a response.
Mansfield waved that off.
“It won’t matter. Watkins won’t be standing trial, once we flip him.” SAIC, Mansfield said.
“I think you mean if you flip him. There’s no guarantee he’ll take the deal.” I observed.
“In my experience, if properly presented, they always take the deal.” SAIC, Mansfield replied.
“Maybe, but can you really trust them not to crawfish on you, the first chance they get?”
“Excuse me…”
“What John means is, he’s wondering if they don’t sometimes back out of the deal.” Tony interpreted.
Jack and Mansfield made brief eye contact.
“When we flip someone, we only trust them as far as we can see them, and they don’t try to back out. Not if they want to stay alive.” Jack said.
That night, I called Gary and told him the whole story.
“Oh man! This is some pretty serious shit. I didn’t think the RAGs were really all that big of a deal.”
“Gary, this has gotten completely out of hand. I think you should consider your options. You don’t have to do it.”
“No way, man, I’m gonna stick with it. No offenses to you, John, but you’re not my boss in this thing. I’m being asked to go undercover in a Federal anti-terrorism operation. How can I turn that down?”
“It could get you killed.”
“I understand the risks, OK? Can you imagine being able to say you were part of something this important?”
“Yes, I can. I can also tell you when you’re swimming in a cesspool, there is no way to stay clean. There’s no way to predict the things you will have to do, or the ways you will suffer. I can tell you seeing your friends die is not fun. I can tell you there are things in life that are even more important than this is. There are other people who can shoulder this responsibility.”
“Wow, I never thought I would hear you say something like that.”
I took a deep breath.
“Gary, once you go in, you can’t just quit. You can’t back out. Those people will hunt you down. If you do this, you’ll have to go all the way. You won’t be able to bail out, because you won’t have a parachute. You’ll have to stay in it till it gets all wrapped up. There is no guarantee the feds can pull this off. You can’t count on them to protect you, either. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Sure, I understand what you’re saying. ‘Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition’. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I took a moment to reflect.
“Yes, I do. I’ve said it myself, and lived to regret it.”
Thirty-Eight
“Si’ that is the… ummm, cómo se dice… cap, he always wore it. I cannot say for sure about the pantalones. The camisa? You say, Tee shirt? Si’ he wore it that day. ” Juan told me, as he and Julio examined the pictures.
Julio was vigorously nodding his head in agreement.
“Does this mean Eduardo Ruiz is muerto?” Juan asked, as he made the sign of the cross.
I nodded solemnly, in response.
“I’m sorry.”
“It was the hombre malo, no?”
“Eso puede ser verdad. No se’.”
Both men hung their heads.
“It must be so. We saw Mr. Watkins drive away with Eduardo. No one has seen him since. These are his clothes. Where were they found?”
“Not far from where you were working on that day.”
“Ese monstruo merece morir.” Juan said, as he handed back the pictures.
“Will you say these things in court?”
They looked at each other.
“I will say it.” Julio replied. “Even if they send me back to Mexico, I will say it.”
“Sí, lo diré también.” Juan agreed.
“I’ve been promised they will not send you back to Mexico. You will be treated as if you were any other American. ¿Entiendes lo que estoy diciendo?”
“Sí, eso es muy bueno escuchar." Juan replied, as Julio smiled and nodded in agreement.
“Do you remember the knife Eduardo had with him on the day he had the fight with Watkins?”
“Sure, it was the same one he always carried.”
“Can you describe it? Dime lo que parecía.”
“It was a knife about this long, one that could be closed up.” Juan held his fingers about five inches apart. “Tuvo el escudo mexicano en él."
“The symbol of Mexico, was in the handle? Está usted seguro de?”
“Very certain, Señor Tucker. Do you know the story of how it became our national symbol?”
“Not really.”
“Do you know about my ancestors, the Aztec people?”
I shrugged. “I know a little.”
Julio wanted to tell me some of the story.
“For two hundred years, the Aztec people were searching for a sign from the gods to show them the place to build a city. When the Aztec king saw an eagle, perched on a nopal, with a snake in its beak, he knew it was the sign they had been seeking. The gods had spoken. The gods led the Aztec people to Tenochtitlan. Today that place is the capital of Mexico, Ciudad Mexico.”
“Wasn’t Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent, one of the gods of the Aztecs?”
“Oh, si, señor and of the Mayas and the Toltecs, he was worshipped for thousands of years. He is still revered in many pa
rts of Mexico, even now.
“Do you believe there are many gods?” I asked them.
“Me, I am a Catholic, pero quién puede decir?” he shrugged.
“Quién puede decir? Who can say?” Julio agreed.
“I know. I can say. There is one God and only one true God. There are many things that are called gods, but there is only one God.”
“It is the teaching of the Church, Senor, pero quién puede decir?” Juan repeated.
“It is not important.” Julio observed.
“It’s the single most important thing anyone can ever know. It is the first thing. Es la cosa más importante”
“As you say, Señor,” Juan said, philosophically.
Julio appeared uncomfortable with the discussion.
I let it go.
“Mr. Watkins will probably be arrested very soon, but he will not be in court for a very long time,” I observed.
“How long?”
“Quién puede decir?” I asked, with a shrug of my own. “Sólo Dios sabe.”
“That’s it then. If they’ll testify they recognize the knife and the clothing, the DA will authorize us to arrest Kevin Watkins, on a charge of murder in the first degree. We can probably add kidnapping and assault to the charges. We have witnesses who saw the fight, they saw the knife, they recognize the clothes the victim was wearing, and they saw Watkins drive away with the victim, who was never seen alive again. If the knife turns out to be the murder weapon, Watkins’ goose is cooked.”
“Since there were no witnesses to the actual killing, Watkins can try to claim it was self-defense, not murder.”
“How he tries to defend himself is not our concern. We can prove he had motive, means, and opportunity. The victim was stabbed multiple times and had obvious defensive wounds. There is no evidence Watkins was ever even in a fight, other than the one where he gave Ruiz a beating.”
“There’s no proof the remains are actually all that’s left of Eduardo Ruiz.”
“Stop trying to present the defense, J.W. There’s more than enough evidence to prove the remains are those of Ruiz, at least beyond a reasonable doubt. Watkins did it and we know it.”
I waited a moment.
“The question is, when do you arrest him?”
“That, my friend, is the sixty four thousand dollar question. The feds will make the big decision. Has Gary contacted you about his attempt to make the RAGs connection?”
“No, I haven’t heard from him for a couple of days.”
“It’s too soon to worry.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I heard Diondro was a very good witness, in his testimony at the trial of Hector Lopez.”
“Huh, Hector Lopez, I thought his name was ‘El Vibora’, the viper.”
Tony laughed.
“Yeah, that’s his street name, but Lopez won’t be back on the streets for at least twenty five years. He isn’t eligible for parole until then and there is no possibility of time off for good behavior, as if he were capable of good behavior.”
“There is hope for him Tony. Many people have become Christians during their incarceration. For some, it’s the first time and place that they have ever heard the gospel. They come out of prison as better people than they were when they went in.
“Yeah, and for others, they come out worse people than they were when they went in.
“You are such a pessimist. Have you seen Diondro, since the trial?”
“Yeah, he stopped by here yesterday afternoon.”
“Did he tell you we got him registered and he’ll be starting at TJC in the fall semester?”
“He sure did, and that he’s really looking forward to it.”
Thirty-Nine
I found Jack in the makeshift office that had been temporarily provided for him, in the Federal building. I think it had been a storage room. Jack was seated behind a desk that was too small to be efficient. I was standing on the cracked and scuffed linoleum, in front of his desk, like a bad boy reporting to the principles’ office. The difference was that I was the one who intended to call him on the carpet.
“Jack, I don’t understand why you’re here. You’ve done a pretty good job of trying to make us focus on the FBI, but you are here, in Tyler. Exactly why are you here?”
“I told you, the DHS is concerned about the situation here.”
“This thing with the RAGs? That dog won’t hunt.”
He regarded me quietly for a moment.
“Private life hasn’t dulled your wits much has it?”
“Not that much. A local matter like this, with the FBI on top of it, no way DHS sends a Regional Director to handle it. You’ve got whole sub departments and a host of field agents to do that.”
Jack shrugged.
“So what’s up? You might as well tell me the truth.”
“Truth, what is truth?”
“You’ve been in government service too long.”
“Sometimes I think so.”
“So…” I made a rolling gesture with my hands.
“What if I told you I know that you were involved in a shootout at a pot farm in Arkansas, a few weeks ago?”
“I’d say you were mistaken.”
“Truth, what is truth?”
“What happened in Arkansas is not relevant to my question.”
“Don’t you want to know how we found out?”
I shook my head.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re just trying to distract me from the subject at hand.”
“There you go again.”
“I worked with you too long, for you to get away with your old tricks.”
“… Clearly.”
I waited him out.
“OK, this thing with the RAGs is big, bigger than you realize. If they pull off some sort of terrorist act, it will have huge implications in our society.”
“Duh, and …?”
He almost squirmed under my scrutiny.
“Alright, there is more. As big as the RAGs thing is, this is even bigger. We believe that concurrent with the threat from the RAGs, but not related in any way, is an additional threat from some local jihadists.”
“Local jihadists?”
“Does that surprise you? Did you think radicalized Islamists were only to be found in the big cities?”
“Well, no not exactly, but not really here in East Texas…”
“That’s what I’m trying to get across to you, John. Pretty much every state has some of them. There are hundreds of them, scattered all over the country. Maybe only a couple of them here or there, mostly in large metropolitan areas, but in some more rural areas, there are individuals and loosely organized cells. These cells are small groups of radicalized Muslims preparing to unleash a series of attacks against the general population. In the name of Islam, they’ll target shopping malls, theaters, restaurants, sporting events, pretty much anywhere where people congregate.”
“Churches, are you saying they’re planning to attack churches?”
“No, at least we don’t think so. They aren’t out to get religious people specifically. If they attacked churches, it would open up a whole new world of ugly. No, they hate America, so they will attack those places that represent ordinary, everyday American life.”
“Are you thinking maybe suicide bombers, like in the Middle East or Europe?”
“No, John. These cells will sometimes use improvised explosive devices, but they won’t be suicidal. They plan to hit and run. They’ll set off some bombs in a theater, and the next day, they’ll whip through a shopping mall, shooting everyone in sight. A week later, they’ll hit a baseball complex, then a crowded restaurant somewhere.”
“It’s madness.”
“It’s genius. They don’t need to try and pull off some huge and highly complex event like they did on 9/11. Doing this, they can completely terrorize the population of the United States from coast to coast, and shut down our economy, with multiple attacks, at seemingly random places and times. They know th
ey are less likely to be filmed by security cameras in more rural areas. They can hide out in the countryside without the neighbors being suspicious.”
“Are you saying you think this could happen here in Tyler?”
“I’m saying this is the place we believe it will all start. Tyler and this area, within one hundred miles of here, will be ground zero for a whole new kind of terrorism in America”
My mind reeled.
“How could you possibly know this?”
“Between the NSA, CIA, DHS, FBI and a host of other agencies, both here and abroad, we’ve pieced it together. We’ve monitored certain people as they traveled overseas, we’ve intercepted communications, we’ve researched activities and interests, we’ve had tips from informants and other interested parties, we’ve followed money trails, and we have certain other resources I can’t even tell you about.”
“All that data and analysis has led you here, to Tyler?”
“Yes, John, it has.”
I grabbed a folding chair from over in a corner, and sat down.
“So you’re here to what… try to prevent it from happening.”
He nodded.
“Yes, as part of a multi-agency anti-terrorism task force. DHS has the point on this, John. I’ve been given this assignment.”
I was stunned.
“I’m sorry I asked.”
“If you and I didn’t go way back, if I didn’t know you had once held a top secret clearance, I wouldn’t have told you. Now that I have told you… I have to kill you.”
The old joke wasn’t funny today.
“What does any of this have to do with me?”
“Probably nothing, at least nothing I’m aware of, but I’ve known you a long time, John. You’re like a lightning rod. When the worst storms hit, you’re usually right in the middle of it. I wasn’t particularly surprised to find you here, and already on the trail of domestic terrorists. Of course, this could all just be a coincidence.”