Fuller Part 1

[ted]

The pressure is building...Very good!

[sssarawolf]

It was nice to see more, thank you.

[stjwelding]

alangator Thank for the new chapters, great story.
Wayne

[stjwelding]

alangator, Have a Merry Christmas and A Blessed New Years. Headed west to visit son, grandson and daughter in law.
Wayne

[Lone_Hawk]

I'm enjoying the new chapters. Thank you!

[alangator]

Fuller
Part 54

Corrections Officer Mike Mitchell of Maricopa County Arizona had a very real link Grimm and the STAG team that had taken Marco Carlos Guzman from the Desert Hills Prison in New Mexico. While making small talk before a routine prisoner transfer that turned out to be anything but Sergeant Mike Mitchell had met Grimm and another of the STAG team members posing as U.S. Marshalls. At the time Grimm was posing as Deputy US Marshall Hap Giggs sent to Desert Hills Prison to move Guzman to a high security Federal Penitentiary. Grimm posing as Deputy U.S. Marshall Giggs had offered to pass Mike’s name and information to someone that he knew in the Maricopa County Sheriff’s Office. It was 72 hours before someone figured out that Grimm had walked Guzman through the gate using bogus paperwork and fake U.S. Marshall badges. That’s when the trouble started for Mike Mitchell and every C.O. that had any contact with STAG team people.

Sergeant Mike Mitchell was questioned once the day that the ruse was exposed and 3 more times over the next few weeks until being cleared of all wrongdoing in the matter. The only thing he had done was store the imposters’ weapons while they were inside Desert Hills Prison and share a little conversation with the fake US Marshall. Sergeant Mike Mitchell had later learned that the paperwork that had been used was top rate and all communications had been hijacked during the incident. Mitchell was surprised two weeks after the incident when Maricopa County called. They explained that the Sheriff’s Office didn’t have an opening but corrections did have a position open for an experienced Corrections Officer. Since he had a four year degree and 7 years of corrections experience including 3 years in a supervisory role that they’d encourage him to follow the process in corrections and see what happened. They promised that if he got on in corrections and had good evaluations that he’s be a short step from being selected for the Sheriff’s Department when hiring opened back up. Mike approached his superiors and explained what had happened and the offer that had been made. He was then interviewed by Federal Investigators and encouraged to start the process. There was hope that by immersing Mike Mitchell into the Maricopa County hiring process he might stumble onto information that would lead to the fake US Marshall that called himself Hap Giggs and the re-apprehension of Guzman the convicted Juarez Cartel killer that had escaped. It was a long shot but it was the only lead that they had. It seemed that Guzman had vanished off the face of the earth and at that point only a long shot would get them any closer to catching Guzman.

The process of being hired and the investigation of the link to the jailbreak didn’t produce any information except that the Maricopa database had been compromised at some point in the recent past and that had led to the initial contact with Mike Mitchell. Fearing liability issues and with the blessing of the Feds the county elected to fulfill their offer and Mike Mitchell ended up in Arizona working as a Corrections Officer. In Arizona Mitchell’s superiors were impressed with his demeanor as well as his professional work ethic and elected to honor their commitment to allow Mitchell to attend the County Sheriff Training Academy Program in the following fall where he would log over 700 hours of training to learn how to become a Peace Officer.

So as Mike Mitchell stepped into his small apartment in Glendale Arizona he was pleased that the transition to living in Arizona was going as smoothly as it was. His weight was down and he was working out or running almost every day to insure that when he attended the Academy he’d be in peak physical condition. An unfamiliar scent lodged itself in his olfactory memory as he reached for his weapon and released it from the retention holster on his hip. A man materialized from around the corner pointing what might have been a gun as Mitchell opened fire. “Stop, Stop I have a gun. Don’t come any closer.”

Mike Mitchell had actually yelled after he had discharged his weapon and shot the intruder. There was a chance that if someone had heard the gunfire they might have assumed that the warning had come before the shots but Mike Mitchell had yelled because he was scared and had fired his weapon on instinct. The cologne he had smelled had triggered a reaction he’d never place.

Mike couldn’t have told you how many shoots he fired. On some level he understood he was in very bad trouble and did what needed to be done. Even as he was firing he was glad that his apartment wasn’t too close to any homes. The last thing he needed was being responsible for someone getting hurt and having to live with a guilty conscious. He quickly scanned the room and then pointed his gun at the wounded or dead man lying in his apartment.

The man on the ground appeared Hispanic and was dead from a shot to the heart or the round that had punctured his sternum along the spinal column. Mike stepped back into a corner and kept his semi-automatic pistol on the man on the ground and called 911 as he stained his hearing to try to determine if anyone else was in the apartment. He didn’t feel safe. He had backed himself into a corner waiting for another intruder to appear.

From across the breezeway Mitchell could hear and door open and close and someone heading his way quickly. “Hello, my name is Mike Mitchell and I just shot an intruder at this location. Please send the police and a rescue unit immediately.” Mike had been distracted by the call and turned around to see a woman holding a tactical shotgun toward the ground. She had been listening to his conversation and appeared very calm and collected considering that both of them held loaded weapons in their hands and there was a puddle of blood with a dead man in the middle of it.

“Sir, please repeat what you just said.” Pleaded the 911 operator.

Mitchell turned his attention back to the phone. “I said my name is Mike Mitchell and I’m a C.O. at the county juvenile detention facility on Gilbert. I have just shot an intruder in my apartment and requested the police and an ambulance. I’m just inside the door and don’t know if anyone else is in the apartment.”

“Sir I need you to stay on the line. Units are responding and will be there shortly. Now can you leave the apartment and still speak with us or are you on a corded line?”

I’m on my cell and I can leave the apartment. Hang on one second a neighbor is here with me now.” He turned to the neighbor again.

He spoke to his visitor. “Hi, I’m Mike Mitchell.”

She nodded. “Marcy, I live across the breezeway. I heard the shots, just checking that everything is OK. You hurt?”

Mike nodded that he was OK. “They’d like for us to leave the scene.”

Marcy nodded. “OK, mind if I stay with you for a few minutes until the Police arrive?”

Mike smiled. “All things considered I’m happy for the company. I assume that’s loaded.”
Marcy nodded as Mike turned his attention back to the breezeway as they stepped into it. He scanned right and then left and the area was clear. Hopefully his neighbors were smart and locked in their units and on the ground in case any more rounds were fired. He put the phone back to his ear. “We’re in the breezeway now. My neighbor is standing beside me and she is armed with a shotgun. Her name is Marcy and she is white female. Medium height and build with dirty blonde hair and is wearing a green top and has on jeans.”

The operator replied. “I’ll let the responding units know that you are in the company of Caucasian female, blonde medium height and built in green top and jeans. Please stay on the line and we’ll get those people to you.”

Within 2 minutes sirens began heading Mike Mitchell’s way. Marcy scanned the area and appeared to have some training in situational awareness.

When the first marked unit reached the parking lot and they could see it was genuine police they both automatically set their weapons down and raised their hands in the air and walked toward the vehicle. Marcy suggested that they turn around and face the opposite direction and drop to their knees.

Mike Mitchell could hear the stress in the voice of the responding officer’s voice and speculated that the officer had her weapon drawn and aimed at them both as she approached very carefully. “I’m Mike Mitchell. I made the 911 call. Neither I nor my neighbor Marcy is armed at this time. Our weapons are 15 feet behind us and I intent to cooperate fully.”

The officer responded. “Marcy Schmidt is that you?”

The woman next to Mike Mitchell responded. “It’s me Jimbo. Mind if a stand up? My knee is screaming.”

The relief in the responding officer’s voice was noticeable. “No problem Detective.”

Marcy stood up and addressed the patrolman. “Hey Jimbo this guy just shot a banger in his own home and is a C.O. at County on Gilbert. Think we can let him stand up? I’ll take responsibility for him.”

Mike heard the semi-automatic pistol being slid into its holster. “Sir, please stand up. Are you in need of medical attention?”

Mike stood up and turned to face the officer. The female officer was in her mid to late 30’s and sported a blonde bob. It was a very practical hair style for a woman that had a physical job like Law Enforcement. She carried weight in a way that is sometimes referred to as big boned and Mike thought she might be able to bench as much as he could. “Officer I think I’m good. The guy in my apartment is dead. My main concern is that one of my rounds penetrated a wall or two and might have hurt someone downrange.”

Now that the cops were there a few people had opened their doors and were peeking their heads outside to see what had happened. From the distance multiple sirens headed in the direction of the apartment complex.

The officer responded. “Mr. Mitchell we have units en route and will be conducting safety checks as soon as possible. For everyone’s protection we’ll need to search you to insure you don’t have any weapons on you and then you can make a statement to the detectives when they get here.”

Mike Mitchell was searched from head to foot and despite the stories of sloppy searches he had heard at C.O training when he had started at the juvenile facility the female officer was fast and very efficient. He’d guess that if he had a stick of gum in his pocket she would have found it.

“Sir I’m done. If want to I can put you in my cruiser until the detectives are ready for you.”

The enormity of the situation hit him like a brick and the fear materialized in his stomach. Without thinking about it he was leaning over and puking his guts out. The intense spasms lasted a minute and emptied his stomach like a faucet had been turned on and fatigue overcame him. Something was put in front of his face and he took and wiped the puke off his lips. “Officer, you really want me in your vehicle?”

She smirked aloud. “Point taken. Let nature take its course and I’ll grab you a bottle of water and a mint or two. Thanks for avoiding my boots, good aim.”

Now it was Mike’s turn to almost laugh and the barest hint of a chuckle brought on another wave of retching that produced nothing but the sharp taste of acid and something clear that he kept spitting out. Unable to talk Mike held up his hand and gave the officer a thumb up.

It was three hours before Mike Mitchell sat in an interrogation suite next to his new lawyer. The lawyer had been recommended by his shooting instructor and Mike carried the lawyer’s card in his wallet at all times never considering that he actual need it one day. The lawyer specialized in firearms related issues and according to his instructor was very good at his job. The two had spent an hour together as Mike explained what had happened and the lawyer offered comments, guidance and advice. Since someone holding something that appeared to be a gun had broken into Mike’s apartment, approached Mike in a threatening manner, Mike had been armed with a legally purchased handgun and held the right to carry that weapon the lawyer was sure that the shooting wouldn’t gain any interest from the District Attorney’s Office. He recommended full cooperation and so Mike told his story three times as two detectives’ listened and 3 digital recorders on the table recorded the meeting.

It was a time consuming task and when the detectives finally seemed satisfied they finally offered Mike some of their initial impressions. The Hispanic male that had died in Mike’s apartment was armed with a stun gun. Their initial analysis of the man’s extensive tattoos identified his occupation. They didn’t know the man’s name but based on what they did know they thought that the man was part of the Juarez Cartel’s assassination and kidnapping gang. The detective told Mike that they were a dangerous and ruthless bunch and that he was lucky to be alive. The fact they were in Arizona and not closer to Juarez might have saved Mike’s life. If they had been closer the Juarez Cartel might have sent more than one person to get the job done and not just the one Mike had managed to kill.

After hearing the background on Mike assailant Mike he was thankful he regularly carried a handgun for protection. There was absolutely no way that if he tried to get to a gun in his apartment that he wins a potentially deadly encounter that lasted 2 or maybe 3 seconds. After thanking the detectives for their help and the information they had offered Mike walked out of the interrogation suite with his lawyer and found Marcy standing in the hall waiting for him. After some final instructions Mike shook hands with his lawyer and the lawyer moved off down the hall and began talking to someone he apparently know.

Mike walked the 10 feet to Marcy who was standing in an office doorway watching him intently and stood in front of her. She was still wearing the same clothes she had been wearing when Mike had met her hours earlier. “Hey thanks for backing me up, I appreciate it.”

She smiled. “Serve and protect is what I get paid for. How you doing? Did anything interesting happen in there?”

“Your people think he was an assassin that worked for the Juarez Cartel.”

She raised both eyebrows before answering. “I saw the tats and thought he was just run-of-the-mill gangbanger that you caught robbing your house. It sounds like someone is not happy with you. He was holding a stun gun so he wanted you alive. Do you or your family have money or any ties to the Juarez Cartel?”

Mike shook his back and forth. “Not really. A few months back I was manning a check-in desk at Desert Hills Prison in New Mexico when 2 fake US Marshalls walked a mid-level Juarez Cartel guy out the gate. The IDs, paperwork and the e-mails that scheduled the transfer had been faked by someone that was very familiar with the process. That in itself was pretty amazing but I was told that during the time they were in the facility that our computers, video surveillance and communications system were under their control. And I mean they think that they controlled all the communications including both landlines and cellular communications. The cartel guy had been under DEA surveillance when he brutally murdered a courier over being late to a meeting. When the DEA people swooped in there was a shoot-out and 2 cartel people were killed and this guy Guzman was wounded. The only contact I had with the bogus Marshalls was checking their ID and storing their weapons. While I was checking the weapons I mentioned I was bored and one of them told me he had a contact here and offered to forward my information. I was shocked when I was called and offered the chance to go through the process. I reported the contact and have been questioned numerous times about it. At the time of the jailbreak I was questioned along with 8 other people multiple times and cleared of all wrongdoing. I had very little contact with Juarez Cartel people or their street gang affiliates when I was at Desert Hills. I’m a little confused about why they would send someone for me unless they were helping out another cartel.”

Marcy nodded. She had read a file a stranger had sent her and the story in the file matched up with Mike’s story. In her gut she felt the C.O. had been telling the truth. “The reason I ask is that a few select collogues and I have access to safe house run by a friend of every honest cop or crime victim in the area. She boards people that are in danger that have passed a set of requirements that have been set in place to protect her and the sanctuary she provides. 3 people have looked at your situation and voted to offer you a place there until things become clearer. I was the last of the members to vote and I’m satisfied that you’re legitimate. Hiding out will also avoid any media scrutiny that may arise from what happened. So my question to you is are you interested in the offer”

Mike smiled. “What’s not to like? I get to hide from the media and I’m almost assured of being safe. My only concern is what happens if someone leaks my location? I’d feel bad putting one of your friends in danger.”

Marcy considered the question. “First of all not very many people know what we do and only 6 people know you’re going there. Second, Liv has an inoperable brain tumor and only has maybe 6 months to live. She understands the importance of the service she provides and enjoys the company. She is the most caring, courage and compassionate person I’ve ever met. You met her daughter Jimbo earlier. She was the responding officer that patted you down. Liv is her mother and Jimbo is staying with her to help out where she can.”

“Jimbo. That’s an interesting nickname for a woman. When I think Jimbo I get a picture of a guy named James.”

Constance Jimbrone. The family name got mangled when they came over from Sicily. The similarity of her name to the word bone caused no end to the teasing so she goes by Jimbo. Nice person. She liked you. She told me that she respected what you managed to do.”

Mike replied. “I was very and I mean very lucky. If I had known for sure that it was stun gun I might have hesitated and that might have been it. Fastest I’ve ever got my weapon out and up from under a shirt.” A wave of dizziness washed across him and Mike leaned on the doorframe and waited for the world to tip back where it was supposed to be.

Marcy stared at him. “I’ve been there. The fear and adrenaline are a wicked combination and there can be after effects. Just relax for a second and it will pass.”

Mike did as he had been told. He had been in bad situations in his career as a Correction Officer but nothing had ever affected him like this. The wave of dizziness passed and he smiled. “I think I’m better now. Be better if your people hadn’t told me the guy in my apartment was a professional murderer that worked for one of the most brutal cartels in Mexico.”

Marcy nodded. “I’m Maricopa County like you are. Jimbo and I went through Maricopa County Academy together. She left a few years ago to join Glendale PD but we’re still good friends.”

Mike nodded now that he understood the relationship between everyone. The officer’s had been gracious enough to grab his wallet so at least he had a little cash and his credit cards. “Since my apartment is a crime scene I’d be very thankful for a place to stay. Anything I need to know before getting there? Do I need to bring anything in the way of food or anything like that?”

Marcy nodded her head back and forth. “Just follow me; your chariot is waiting for us.”

Mike followed Marcy down the hall and into a wider hallway that he thought led to the outside lobby. Marcy turned left and they were at a rear door that deposited them into a parking lot filled with Police vehicles. Jimbo stood next to a street legal sand rail with huge tires on the back of it. With its big tires and fiberglass body it looked really fun to play in the sand with. They walked up to her and she smiled at Mike. She looked much better in street clothes than the uniform she had been wearing. The uniform had made her look thicker in the trunk than the jeans she now wore and her vest had given her torso a bulkier silhouette that was now more graceful in a light blue long sleeved compression shirt that complimented her body type.

She stuck her hand out. “I’m Constance but everyone calls me Jimbo. Glad to see you were released. Marcy explained how this works to you?”

Mike nodded. “I get a place to crash and lay low. I received a message from work and they are giving me a few days off pending an investigation into what happened and your mother is nice enough to give a place to hole up while more is learned about what happened. Sorry to hear about your mother. I lost mine a few years ago after a lengthy illness and it’s tough.”

Jimbo nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate that. If it doesn’t still upset you I’d like to talk to you about that after we know each other a little better.”

Mike had loved his mother deeply and losing her had affected him. It had happened long enough ago that he was fine with discussing it now if he was careful. He’d never admit it to most people but the pain was so deeply ingrained in him that while he could discuss her passing if he wasn’t careful he’d get misty eyed. “Talking about it helps so I’d be open to that if you want to. Marcy gave me the scoop but are there any rules I need to be aware of?”

Jimbo adjusted what Mike assumed was her weapon under her shirt and smiled and leaned against the sand rail. “It’s pretty simple. There is no smoking or drug use in the house and you wash your own clothes and put your dishes in the sink after you use. Mom loves to cook and enjoys having someone to talk to in the kitchen while she’s getting a meal together. After what happened to you if you want I can loan you another handgun and a holster since your pistol is being processed as evidence and will be held indefinitely. I’ll provide a pre-paid phone for you to use while you’re at moms. I’d ask you hand yours over for safe keeping. We cannot risk you forgetting and calling someone and the call being tracked by the people looking for you or the media. The media’s will make a big deal out of the shooting since you are a County employee and the dead man was possibility a cartel assassin. But this is Phoenix and there is always another violent murder or a kidnapping to cover so the attention will fade quickly.”

At that second Mike phone rang and he looked at the screen not recognizing the number but he still answered it. “Mind if I grab this? It might be work.”

Jimbo nodded that she didn’t mind.

Mike took a few steps away from the sand rail and the two women. “Mike Mitchell speaking.”

Over the other side of the phone a man spoke. “Mike when we met before I got you into some trouble at Desert Hills Prison in New Mexico. Sorry about the trouble but Guzman was needed elsewhere. I did honor my promise to put Maricopa in touch with you. I heard of your difficulties today and want to help.”

“How did you hear about it? I just finished making my statement and I’m still in the Police parking lot.”

Grimm smiled. Most people would never guess the amount of data he and his people had access to. “Listen, Mike. There is a small shooting resort outside Columbia Missouri that is run by a very trustworthy friend of a friend. We have secured accommodations for you there and a package will arrive there within 24 hours that will supply you with a vest, weapons, ammo, some walking around cash and fake ID’s. The location is pretty secluded and you should be safe there. Everyone there including the owners, guests and visitors have been run through an extensive background check so no surprises. I know you have questions so I’ll answer the few I can. I’m part of an undercover operation that is tasked with the destruction of the Juarez Cartel and they are weeks away from descending into total chaos. Once that happens you’ll likely be forgotten since the thread that put them onto you will be severed.”

Mike Mitchell turned and looked at Marcy and Jimbo standing next to the sand rail talking. “I have a place I can lay low. Is there a problem if I delay my trip a few days?”

Grimm replied to the question. “Not a problem. We’re monitoring the investigation and know where you’ll be so we’ll forward the package there. I would require you to not disclose our conversation to your hostess’s and avoid calling friends and family other than to let them know you’ll be out of touch for a few days. You could tell them you’re undergoing extensive training for work. Something like survival training in the desert or immersive role playing seminars. We did an extensive background check on them and have them under electronic surveillance and they seem to be good people but we still don’t want to take a chance. And Mike.”

Mike replied. “Yeah?”

Grimm replied. “You look happier than the last time I saw you. Sorry about the grief but these things happen.”

Mike realized something he had forgotten about and hesitated. “What about the others at Desert Hills? Is everyone else safe?”

Mike you were the first to have any contact like this and we are securing everyone that is willing as we speak. I’m hopeful that everyone will be unharmed but I assure you a team is on this and if we can get cooperation from your ex-coworkers we should avoid anymore incidents.”

Mike was leery of how he would contact the mystery man that had found him 10 minutes after he walked out of a police interrogation room. “If I want to take you up on your offer in a few days or need something how can I contact you?”

Grimm was glad he had contacted a local contractor to drop a phone off at a local hotel as soon as he had heard about the incident. “Go to the desk at the Pacos Hotel and tell them your name is Des Hill with the convention and ask for the package they are holding for you. Des is spelled DES. If they ask tell them Des is short for Desmond and you’re from Taos New Mexico. A number is programmed into the phone and is routed through a server that hides the location of both sides of the call. When you get the bug-out package it will contain another 3 or 4 phones with chargers. Only use the phones once then take the battery out and destroy the phone.”

[223shootersc]

Thanks for the great chapter, love the plot lines

[stjwelding]

alangator Great Chapter!!!!!!! what a treat I really enjoy the story and your writing. Looking for more soon.
Wayne

[sssarawolf]

Wonderful thank you. I thought I best check to see if you had posted another chapter and yup.

[alangator]

Fuller Part 55

El Paso Texas

A heavy canvas banner was dropped from an I-10 over pass during the morning rush hour less than a mile from the Stanton Street Bridge that linked the US and Mexico. I-10 carried thousands of motorists every day so the incident was reported almost instantly by everyday citizens using cell phones, texts and various social media websites. The 3 masked men that had unraveled the banner and dropped it over the overpass’s side had quickly left the scene in an older plain white work van. A few nearby motorists crossing the overpass at the time had seen the van in the right hand lane with its flashers on and the backs of the men as they walked toward the bridge’s safety railing but hadn’t understood the significance of what the men were doing so nobody had any reason to contact the authorities.

A tow truck driver heading across the overpass in the opposite direction had turned around and pulled behind the van to offer his services. The men were getting inside the van as he pulled up and he thought that whatever the problem there had been had been resolved as they sped off. The tow truck driver saw a silhouette through the rear door window and determined the man was wearing a mask of some sort. After he heard of the interest of the Police had in the incident he contacted local Police who forwarded his contact information to Homeland Security. Later in the investigation it would be noted that no cameras in the area had captured any useful images and that the van had been reported stolen the previous day. Both factors would hamper the investigation.

The white banner was 12 feet long and 7 feet tall. It read, ‘Mexico is for the Mexican people. US stay out of our backyard’. The white background stood in stark contrast to the bold red paint that had been used for the text. The dripping red paint resembled blood and gave the message a menacing appearance. Calls from motorists traveling on I-10 flooded into the 911 system to report the banner and Police quickly moved to halt traffic on I-10 so that the banner didn’t pose a threat to public safety. The banner was a distraction and the police were concerned that motorists staring at the sign would cause avoidable accidents. Closing down the interstate in both directions had taken 14 minutes. But before that had been done a specialized Homeland Security team based out of the temporary Maga Center at White Sands requested that the local police treat the area around the site as a crime scene and secure the area until their people were on site. Local police hadn’t had a chance to call Homeland but within minutes they were on the phone discussing logistics with the Chief of Police and formally making a sincere request for cooperation. It would be less than 5 minutes before the traffic copters that monitored the traffic in the morning would witness the banner and report the incident.

Traffic had been diverted for almost an hour while Police secured the area and the team from Homeland Security quickly processed the area for useful forensic after removing the banner from the overpass. Homeland Security thought that the banner might be linked to the problems that had plagued the border area in Eastern New Mexico and West Texas. With that theory a possibility Homeland was exceptionally interested in the incident.

Before Homeland Security removed the sign from the side of the overpass 2 traffic copters had shown images of the sign on local television or reported the incident over the radio. Even after the sign had been removed and the roadways were all re-opened TV and Radio personalities continued to report the incident and refer to the snarl it had caused to the morning commute. The El Paso-Las Cruces N.M. combined statistical area was home to over a 1,000,000 people. That meant that 100s of thousands area residents heard about what was happened in real-time. Those that understood the way cartels operated were concerned. Every time something happened on the US side of the border that was common place in Mexico it was if the cartel was closer to running the area around the border on the US side in the same way they did in Mexico. Could gruesome violence in the street, kidnappings and torture or mass graves be far behind? The residents along the border hoped not.

The sign was similar to the signs often seen in Mexico that acted as warnings from the cartels. Public outrage was swift and sure and officials from every local branch of government were deluged with phone calls, texts and e-mails. Social media intensified interest in the incident and delivered the news of the incident to people across the country while the incident trended on some of the most heavily visited websites on the net. In the Intelligence community word of what had happened had swiftly reached policymakers and the movers and shakers that oversaw US Intelligence efforts. Quickly the ripples from the event were felt all the way to politicians at the national level before eventually being quickly brought to the attention of the White House.

The President of the United States wasn’t particularly pleased to hear what had happened. He felt that his administration had just been given a bloody nose by cartel thugs. Extensive and far reaching plans to disrupt the cartels and their steady stream of illegal immigrants and products into the US had been operational for some time. Despite understanding the complexity of the task at some point it didn’t seem unreasonable for the President of the United States to assume that those intricate plans designed by a team that had put extensive resource in play would yield results. The ultimate goal was to control at least some aspect of who and what entered the US.

While all that was happening Homeland Security, FBI and other assorted agencies were investigating what had happened. But by the time local, state and federal law enforcement had gotten organized the van that had delivered the sign was engulfed in flames behind the back of a re-located big box store and its occupants were miles from the burning vehicle. They had done their job and were on their way back to Mexico to pick up their bonus.

Washington D.C.

Dark Voice exited the car that had been sent for him and looked at the front of the exclusive private club. The historical 3 story Federal style building boosted 10,000 square feet of indoor space and over a half acre of manicured grounds and gardens behind the house in the picturesque Old Town neighborhood of Alexandria. The mansion had been converted to the club’s use 60 years prior and sat on the end of the block of less imposing 2 story brownstones. The building’s façade reeked of sophistication and class. The building’s original brick had been laid just over 150 years ago and mated with white trim and the 8 shutters were stained black. A short black awning with the club’s name and logo stitched in tasteful white protected massive side by side hand carved oak doors. The doors were outfitted with elaborate brass door hardware and a large brass plate that identified the club. The combination subtlety announced to everyone that saw it that the club catered to a sub-set of Washington’s elite class.

Dark Voice had been inside the private club numerous times when he had been still in the employ of the US Government and a few times since. But today was much different than the other times he had visited. There were no plans of a meal in the dining room or expensive cognac to be sipped in the mahogany and leather of the library. Today he had been called to a meeting by a co-founder of the STAG program an hour after the banner incident in El Paso. This time as he stood on the sidewalk in front of the club he was slightly apprehensive. A direct summons from the Deputy Director of National Intelligence within an hour of the banner being displayed in El Paso couldn’t be good. Dark Voice pushed down the apprehension he was feeling and breezed through the club’s doors ready for whatever laid ahead.

After announcing himself at reception in the large foyer Dark Voice was asked to follow an escort to his meeting with Deputy Director Ann Snow by a long time club employee. The two men ascended the main staircase of the foyer and continued down a richly paneled hallway passing the Library, the Card Room and the Billiard Room. Dark Voice’s escort stopped at a room at the end of the hall and knocked twice on the closed door. After a second Dark Voice’s escort opened the door and the men stepped inside an intimate meeting room paneled in more rich wood and topped by a beautiful coffered ceiling that might have adorned the ceiling when the building and been built 150 years ago.

Deputy Director of Intelligence Ann Snow was leaning on an antique desk and turned and moved toward Dark Voice as she placed her phone in the pocket of her designer jacket. Despite being over 60 her trim frame and short blonde hair gave her the impression of being significantly younger. Only her hands gave away her true age and much of that was because of the abuse they endured in her woodworking workshop in the basement of her Georgetown home. In her current position it was often wise to make the rounds of the D.C. cocktail party circuit. But Deputy Director of Intelligence Ann Snow much preferred the solitude of working with her hands and seldom took part in work related social functions. She instead exercised her passion for her woodworking hobby. Many people that knew or worked with Ann Snow had received small handmade gifts she had constructed herself in that small 12x18 foot workshop. She had only occupied her current position for 2 years and was known to be very cognizant of the responsibility that had been entrusted to her. She offered her hand to Dark Voice. “Here we are again.” She turned to the escort and addressed him. “James, you said my people swept the room an hour before I arrived?”

James was balding and in his late 50’s maybe his early 60’s. He nodded and answered. “Yes, that is correct Deputy Director. After they completed their task I locked the door and set the alarm so no one including me has been inside since.”

Ann Snow looked at James. “I appreciate it. We’ll need an hour or so and then I’ll be out of your way.”

James replied. “No problem Deputy Director, take all the time you need. Will you be joining us for lunch? The chef’s special today is Chicken Kiev and Paco has procured some lovely organic heirloom strawberries from the market.”

Deputy Director of Intelligence Ann Snow considered the offer for a few seconds. “I’ve got 3 lunch meetings so it’s doubtful I’ll actually get to eat lunch today. You think you could have 10 of the Chicken Kiev’s and a whole cheesecake with the organic strawberries on the side delivered to my office?”

James smiled. “I’ll see to it immediately Deputy Director. And I’ll put an extra piece of the cheesecake in the order and mark it with your name.”

This brought a smile to Ann Snow’s face. “Perfect. Extra strawberries for my piece?”

James replied. “Of course, Deputy Director.”

Ann Snow nodded. “James you know me too well. Thanks for everything, I’ll text Linda and have her pay the bill out of the food fund. We’ve been very busy the last few weeks and everyone in the office deserves a treat. Thank you so much.”

James nodded without another word. He stepped through the door and quietly pulled it closed.

Dark Voice reached into his side pocket ad extracted a smart phone with a glowing green screen and sat it on the desk.

Ann Snow stared at Dark Voice. “Have a seat. We have a few things to get through. There’s coffee on the sideboard if you need it.”

Dark Voice walked over to the antique sideboard and poured himself a cup of the premium blend coffee and sat as he had been directed. Ann Snow was known to be a straight shooter and he was trying to gauge her mood as he poured his coffee and made his way to his seat. “Well, must be important if we are meeting here. The team in Juarez is doing their best and will be grabbing one of the top cartel leaders in the next day or so. He might even be the leader we can’t be sure. They have four main people and it’s unclear who is actually in charge.”

Ann Snow sat and looked at Dark voice. “I read the reports and I’m happy with their progress. They seem to be our best hope of stopping the problems at the border. That isn’t the reason I asked you to meet with me today. Jack Logan called me this morning and he asked for a meeting. He told me he was given a story that involves covert US personnel causing trouble for the Juarez Cartel in and around Juarez. He’s hazy on the details but someone from the Mexican delegation at the United Nations is talking to him. He couldn’t tell me who but we have a few ideas. They claim that we are operating in Mexico illegally and Jack was promised conclusive evidence within the week.”

Dark Voice had been working with Ann Snow for over a year and trusted her as much as you can trust a political appointee that has a different political affiliation than you do. She came from outside the regular intelligence hierarchy and had been President of an Ivy League college before turning her management expertise to government work. “I know Jackie Logan, for someone with a press pass he’s good people. It sounds like the cartel is starting to pull out all the stops hoping to apply enough pressure to get us to leave their operations alone. They have anything linking us to what they think is happening?”

The UN delegate was vague other than to say that a female with a dog has been linked to the terrorist group and they are actively seeking her and her little dog, too!”

Dark Voice smiled recognizing a bastardization of a quote from the Wizard of Oz. “If we had a dog handler working with us in Juarez their dog wouldn’t be little. If we do have someone that fits that description I’ll pull her and the dog as soon as we’re done here. How interested is Jackie in the story he was fed by the cartel lackey at the UN?”

Ann Snow sipped her coffee before answering. “His words were that he abhors the cartels in Mexico and has no intention of pursuing the story. But those cartel people aren’t know for taking no for an answer and have been known to torture and murder uncooperative journalists and even their family members. So he’s planning on taking some time away from work for undisclosed health reasons. He’s past retirement age and it’s amazing they’ve kept him on this long. This might even lead to him retiring. Just about any journalist would love to take over his column space. But when the cartel sees that he’s not biting on the story they’ll approach another journalist if they haven’t already, you can bet on that.”

Dark Voice nodded. “I’ve met his wife and she’s a very special lady. They married before he deployed to Viet Nam and have been together every since. He’s about the only serious reporter I’ve ever met that seemed to have a good long-term relationship in his life. Retirement might give him the opportunity to spend time with his family and write another book or two. The last one did OK and was a real page turner.”

Ann Snow nodded. “Mostly he wanted to give me a heads up. I contacted the FBI and Homeland and they obtained FISA warrants on some people that might be Jack’s source in the Mexican delegation. They’ll snoop around and do some light movement tracking looking for anything interesting. I’m hoping that turns up something useful.”

Dark Voice nodded. “We always figured the cartels had people at every level of the Mexican Government but I’m surprised they tipped their hand this early. An ex-KGB Colonel named Madrago runs their intelligence and counter-intelligence unit and he’s too damn good. The people in Juarez have been impressed with the Juarez Cartel’s operational tradecraft and counter-intelligence efforts. And Madrago knows his guy in the UN is going to get burned, it’s just a matter of time.”

Ann Snow nodded. “Like you said they are pulling out all the stops. You have anything that links your Juarez bad guys to any UN personnel?”

“Nothing so far and we’ve been looking for links between the Juarez Cartel and politicians at every level hoping to find someone that we can put pressure on. We’ve linked the Juarez Cartel to local and state politicians and the military but nothing at the national level. But with the internet and the fact that there are so many Mexican Nationals in the US it’s difficult to see much. The guy at the UN could be getting his talking points by a guy that is roofing houses by day and working for the Mexican Government or the Juarez Cartel by night and we’d never find him without a serious stroke of luck. I’ll assign a few people to look at the situation and see what their thinking is but finding the handler is going to be almost impossible if he or she has been trained properly. And if we put too much attention on it they’ll know we got tipped off which might put Jackie and his family in danger.”

Ann Snow considered what she had just heard and quickly evaluated her options. “Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. We need to finish this thing one way or another. If we’re lucky we get the job done and manage to avoid any hearings and jail. And if its jail I’ll drop a few pounds that have been difficult to get rid of and catch up on my reading.”

“Ann, you know they don’t let you have a scotch or a cigar at the end of the day in jail. What would you do without your single malt?”

Ann Snow’s right eye twitched. “6 months sober, so no booze for me. And my cigar guy retired and moved to Boca to live with his 75 year old girlfriend.”

Dark Voice was embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t know about the booze. This business is hard on people but you always seemed so together.”

Ann Snow had a tear forming in her eye. “For a long time I have coped with the pressure of my job by drinking too much. I finally decided to make a life style change that I should have made a decade ago. I had forgotten what life was like when you sober all the time. It can be awfully scary. I can see myself doing this for another year or two and then I’ll retire like you did.”

“Good for you, I’m glad to hear you’re conquering your demons. But be careful about retiring it is sooo boring. Hell if I didn’t have STAG I’d be golfing in Florida or Arizona and eating the early bird special with the rest of the snowbirds. And for me that would be the short cut to death.”

A genuine smile spread across Ann’s face. The thought of Dark Voice retiring and eating dinner at 5:30 every night was amusing enough to her that she pictured him in line at a buffet waiting to chose his favorite flavor of pudding. Ann hadn’t known him for long or spent much time with Dark Voice but she had seen every bit of paperwork on his life and his career that the government had generated and he didn’t seem to be the type that ever retired completely. Even now while he was officially retired he ran one of the best covert teams currently operating in North America. He had recruited extensively from the Special Operations community by convincing bored, retired and partially disabled SPECOPS people to come help him on the border. The front line war-fighters that made up that community were committed warriors and many times the only ways they left that proud community was disabled or dead. For an outsider to come in and poach personnel still in uniform was an accomplishment not appreciated or condoned by the United States Special Operations Command headquartered at MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa Florida.

Earlier in the ‘War on Terror’ it had become pretty common for people to leave the military or intelligence community and go to work as what the UN called “mercenaries” in Iraq or Afghanistan. The industry now preferred that they be referred to as Private Military Companies and held contracts from the DoD, other US agencies, NGOs and large multi-national corporations that were worth billions. They also preferred that their employees be called security contractors or private military contractors. The ability to ramp up personnel when they were needed by employing civilians was as old as the country was. It was thought that George Washington had employed similar methods when he had been in charge during the Revolutionary War.

But the outsized salaries being paid out at the beginning of the Global War On Terror had eroded since the need for PMC in places like Iraq and Afghanistan was contracting to some extent. Since the incident in Fallujah where 4 contractors were killed, burned and hung from a bridge journalists had brought attention to the use of private contractors in the Global War On Terror. Many if not most journalists had cast an unflattering light on the Private Military Contractors operating in Iraq and Afghanistan since the Fallujah incident. Often times the media sensationalized the role contractors played in the operations there and helped turn public opinion in the US and Iraq and Afghanistan against the practice. The media often left out the fact that many civilian contractors were support people that prepared and served food, drove trucks, did laundry or a multitude of jobs that didn’t require them to carry guns and shoot at people in defense of their lives.

Incidents with PMCs that painted them in a very negative light were sometimes seen on video taken and then posted on the internet. Deaths of contractors and armed clashes between contractors and extremists in Iraq and Afghanistan that resulted in civilian causalities had given all the journalist that were against PMC plenty of ammo in the court of public opinion. Dark Voice and his people were brave souls committed to keeping the United States safe. Death was as likely as Dark Voice retiring completely.

Juarez

Grimm watched live coverage of the banner incident on a 24 hour news channel. Every 10 minutes an Intel analyst would call and give him up-to-the-minute re-cap of how little was known about the incident. Grimm’s encrypted phone rang and he answered it. “Grimm.”

Dark Voice replied. “I just got out of a meeting with one of the co-founders and they were passed information on your dog handler. They didn’t have a name but we need to send her home ASAP.”

Grimm considered what he had been told. “I’ll get her packing up and out of here immediately. I’m still getting updates on the banner thing in El Paso. So far no good leads.”

Dark Voice had seen very little on the incident in El Paso but was confident Grimm would get it figured out. “To what you can on the El Paso thing and call me later if you hear something. But please get that dog handler back into the US before the cartel finds her.”

Grimm spoke into the phone. “I’m on both things and will keep you up to date.” Grimm ended the call.

Grimm used the walkie to call Lep. When Lep answered Grimm asked him to find Rosie and sent her to his room. A few minutes later when Rosie entered Grimm’s room he explained that the cartel was searching for her and that she would need to return to the US immediately.

Within minutes Rosie was packed and she and Ales were ready for their return trip to the US. She dropped by Mongo’s room and told him goodbye. She also handed him an untraceable e-mail address to contact her with after she hugged him. She left the room and Lep drove her to a motel room STAG kept where the two of them and Ales would wait until dark.

Across the street and around the block 4 STAG operators including Bongo kept watch on the room. Their job was to keep Lep and Rosie safe until it was dark and Rosie and Ales could be flown out of Juarez.

Back in his room Grimm listened to the intelligence analyst as he explained the banner incident in almost breathless terms. Many if not most Americans wouldn’t understand the significance of the message or who had sent it without various talking heads on national news shows chiming in and interviewing panels of so-called experts. The practice of hanging banners was very common in Mexico and part of the cartel’s propaganda efforts that incorporated an element of psychological warfare and strove to instill fear. Banners were fairly inexpensive and a dramatic way of getting their message out. The banners were used in a variety of ways including; paying homage to cartel members, to gain support for a cartel, enhancing recruiting efforts or issuing threats. Today’s incident was another example of the Juarez Cartel’s tactics spreading across the border onto US soil. The effect of the banner being displayed so publicly in El Paso would be felt for some time. “Listen I understand the significance of the banner being hung in El Paso. My question to you is what is your best guess concerning what is going to happen next?”

Grimm listened for a few minutes and basically got nothing he could use to help his team complete their mission. All the cartels were unpredictable at times. The one constant that you could always depend on was that if you stole from a cartel or they felt that you had stolen from them that you would be tortured and killed if they didn’t trust you in any way. US intelligence didn’t really understand why the cartels went to war other than that they were looking to expand their territory or defending their territory. Most of the thousands of the cartel murders were never linked to specific incidents of theft, coercion or betrayal.

As the analyst wrapped up his vague and ambiguous assessment Grimm exhaled a deep breath. The banner incident meant that he’d be getting another call from Dark Voice before the day was over. Dark Voice was a consummate intelligence professional but sometimes Dark Voice seemed more interested in results that he could take to the STAG program’s benefactors. Someone had financed the program and that meant even Dark Voice had someone that he answered to. And despite the scope of the program they required results. The violence and threat of violence along the border near El Paso needed to be curtailed as soon as possible.

Grimm completed the call and sat down and made a mental list of what needed to be done. Since the man they called King was in the building he stood up and moved toward the hallway. They didn’t have a plan to neutralize Madrago and that needed to change. He had an idea that might just work if they could pull it off.

The extensive file Grimm had recently gained access to from the CIA and DEA showed that Madrago suffered from a condition called obstructive sleep apnea. Grimm read further about the condition and learned that it was a sleep disorder that caused poor sleep from pauses in breathing and shallow breaths. Those breathing abnormalities caused people to move from deep sleep to light sleep and that decreased the quality of their sleep. When diagnosed most sleep apnea suffers slept with a machine to help their bodies obtain and maintain deep sleep. If they could replace his machine with one altered by King they might be able to kill Madrago and make it look like natural causes. Killing the Juarez Cartel’s intelligence specialist wouldn’t be easy in fact it promised to be extremely difficult. Madrago understood the world he lived in and wasn’t prone to making mistakes that would make it easy for someone to kill him. But if they could get to Madrago it might ratchet up the pressure inside the cartel. They knew that the 4 people they referred to as the 4 Horseman controlled the cartel. Maybe setting them against each other would help them find out who was causing problems.

Grimm stood up to make his way to King’s work area. The man gave him a slight sense of foreboding and Grimm was anxious to be rid of the assassin. But if he was as good as Grimm had been told it just might be the man to help him get the job done. Grimm took the pictures that had been snapped of the object sitting beside Madrago’s bedside. The picture had been taken from too far away to see a model number but Grimm was convinced that his Intel people could enhance the picture and determine what model the equipment was. If King could tell Grimm which substance that would get the job done and Grimm could get it then they’d be in business.

[Phantom]

Yea New Chapter

Love the Story so Far..... thanks

[Millwright]

WOO HOO

Good Chapter

I know that you are building momentum to get up to about a chapter every 3 days

[sssarawolf]

Thank you kind writer.

[stjwelding]

alangator Thanks for the great chapter!!!!! You are a fantastic story teller and this is a great story, looking for more.
Waynhe

[alangator]

Fuller
Part 56

Field’s Property

Cole Smith walked into the shelter on the Field’s property through the partially opened door and just took in the complexities of the space he was standing in. Despite what many people felt he had always felt very at home inside underground mines and absolutely loved being a miner. The bulk of his income came from the sale and delivery of concrete and gravel. But the best part of his job was going underground and blowing up the material and bringing something out of the ground that civilization needed to function. Cole Smith did all the blasting at his mine and try as he had he had never felt the rush he felt from doing a shot. Nothing else came close to comparing. The routine he followed before setting off a charge was more like an alcoholic preparing for the first drink of the day or the steps a drug user followed before ingesting their drug of choice. The anticipation began rising as soon as he started stringing the wire back to where he’s be depressing the button to set the charge off. By the time he actually set the charge off and the very ground under his feet shock and his hair was standing on end he was instantly energized with a flood of adrenalin.

If Cole and Rita didn’t own the concrete plant he would have been perfectly happy working as a powder monkey and making a living depressing that magical button. Cole’s wife Rita had often said that the passion Cole had for mining came from listening to stories of the family’s history as miners. Cole’s paternal side of the family had been Welsh miners brought to the United States to mine Pennsylvania coal over 150 years prior. Cole’s great, great grandfather had fought anti-union forces in the battle of Blair Mountain that took place in West Virginia in 1921. The family album from that time didn’t have many pictures because back then pictures were expensive and a few had been lost over the years. But they did have pictures of his great, great grandfather and his family standing in front of the mine’s gates the day he was hired at the mine that would later hire thugs to kill him and his fellow co-workers. Another picture had been clipped from a newspaper and showed the men that had been wounded at Blair Mountain making their way back home and Cole’s great, great grandfather was shown with a walking stick in one hand and holding a fellow miner up with the other.

Cole’s grandfather had told Cole the story of his ancestor involvement at Blair Mountain a 100 times before his grandfather died. Prior to the uprising Cole’s great, great grandfather had been beaten by security guards hired by the mine’s owner near the coal mine where he was working at the time for no reason. Later that same week Cole’s great, great grandfather had joined the Miner’s Union. During the Battle of Blair Mountain he had been injured by a bomb dropped from a bi-plane and missed a majority of the fighting. But while wounded and waiting to make his way back home he had been close enough to hear the epic battle between his union brothers and the forces that opposed them. The men hired by the mine owners were notoriously brutal and he had endured another beating by them while attempting to return home in his injured state. While Cole’s great, great grandfather recuperated from the injuries he sustained at Blair Mountain and the beating he had taken afterwards the family lived in a tent surrounded by other families that had been kicked out of their company owned homes by the thugs that worked for the mine owners. Like many men that had formerly worked in the local mines he refused to return to the mine that had sent men to kill him and his friends so the family began the odyssey to find a mining company that respected its workers. It wasn’t an easy task at the time. Most if not all mine’s were controlled by people that had little or no regard for the miners or their families.

Miners did a dirty and dangerous job, they deserved to be treated fairly but even now that wasn’t the case. The stories of how his family had been treated convinced Cole that men needed to be respected, paid a fair wage and work in the safest environment possible. Both Cole and Rita Smith were proud of the fact that their employees had been with them for years and both placed a high priority on their relationship with the employees that made their business possible. Cole and Rita didn’t consider themselves pro-union people and none of their people belonged to a union. But taking care of people just made good business sense.

Cole hadn’t seen the shelter on the Field’s property for some time and was shocked at how different the space looked with the shelves full and the equipment parked along the wall. At the party for the shelter’s initial completion Cole Smith had seen the ceiling after the cousins from Kentucky had used his Jumbo to affix the welded wire to the ceiling using friction bolts and then painted it white to reflect light better. Cole still marveled at what he had seen when he had been checking one of the cousins out on his Jumbo before the work on the ceiling began. The Kentucky cousin had been like a surgeon and operated the two armed machine as if it had been an extension of his hand. While one mechanical arm supported the welded wire the other latched on the edge of the wire and found the perfect place to drive the friction bolts. After that utility hangers were used to hang the upgraded lighting that made the shelter as bright as a department store. The welded wire and the engineered bolts acted to prevent piece of rock from breaking loose and dropping to the mine’s floor therefore keeping the people in the shelter safe from falling debris. The process had been slow and had cost Fuller a pretty penny but Fuller had determined that the cost was justified. On the off-chance that a nuclear blast happened close enough to shake the ground or the shelter area experienced shifting the bolts would significantly reduce the chance of falling rock hurting or killing someone. Cole had been operating that exact machine part-time for 10 years and the Kentucky cousin he was checking out had operated at twice his best speed ever.

The original 8 inch steel I beam frame at the door was the same but Cole Smith could see that it had been reinforced to provide even more strength and help support the huge doors that covered the shelter’s entrance. After Cole Smith had made a few small blasts to increase the shelter’s usefulness and provide holes to drop the 8 inch beams into he had been needed back at the concrete plant so he hadn’t seen the many improvements that Fuller’s people had made to the shelter or seen the piles of supplies that had been trucked in since the grand opening party. When the party was thrown the inside of the shelter still lacked the storage and shelving units he saw across the room. Also a set of red lights had been installed in the entrance room near the doorway. Tim had told him about their individual living spaces but neither Cole nor Rita had seen theirs yet. And the kitchen and pantry upgrades sounded like they would worth a look. Rita had been excited about the upgrades to the bathrooms and shower areas. The enlarged ventilation tunnels and improved generator room was on his list of rooms to see. Cole Smith had seen the generator room at the party but Tim had told him that additional features had been added.

As he shifted focus he noticed 2 eye wash stations on each wall and the fire extinguishers spaced along each wall in small red metal cabinets bolted to the walls. He had overlooked those important safety features when he had first stepped into the shelter. As underground spaces went the Field’s shelter was by far the most advanced he had ever seen. Cole placed a high premium on safety and in the years that he and Rita had been operating his mine at the concrete plant they had never had a safety issue that was caused by the mines condition or anything other than human error. So far his company had been spared the associated problems that came after an accident was blamed on a mine operator. Often times despite insurance coverage if an independent mine had an accident they were forced to close or ended up in the hands of another operator.

But top notch safety cost big bucks and if every operational mine had implemented the same over engineered safety features he was seeing here the price of concrete and other minerals and materials that came from below the ground might increase and force less profitable mines to shut down. So as Cole Smith walked to the back of the shelter he just dreamed of a shelter as safe as the one the Field’s owned. It was a pipe dream he would never realize. Too many people know of his mine and that ship had already sailed. If the worst came they would flock to his mine’s entrance and demand to be accommodated regardless of his wishes or the consequences.

Cole Smith could see the outline of another person he assumed was Tim Field’s along the far wall. Since he was wearing his reading and not his driving glasses he couldn’t be sure. As he watched the person threw down a tool and stormed out of Cole’s sight. “Tim. How’s it going?” Cole bellowed. Cole could hear Tim stop in his tracks and walk back to look around the corner.

After seeing the visitor to the mine was his friend Cole Smith, Tim smiled realizing the visitor might be able to help him with the problem that had caused him to throw his wrench moments earlier. “Better since you got here Cole. I could use a hand getting a cabinet up. It’s too heavy to hold with one hand and level while driving the bolt into the anchor.”

“I’d be happy to help when you get back from the bathroom.” He replied to the request.

Tim looked over toward the bathrooms. “Actually Becky sent sandwiches for us and I was about to wash up and eat. Thought it would be a good idea to give it a rest and re-group. You hungry?”

Now that Cole was closer he could see the cabinets sitting on the ground feet from where Tim had hurled his wrench. Even without the correct glasses Cole was close enough to see the back wall of the cabinets had an elongated hole. That meant that if Tim was using regular sized bolts he could drive the bolts partially into the anchor, line the holes up slid the cabinet over it and let the cabinet drop down. After that it was a matter of leveling the cabinet and that he would have been able to do with one hand. Once it was level he could drive the bolts the rest of the way into the anchor and the job would have been completed. “Tim, is everything OK?”

“Sure, why do you ask?”

Cole smirked for a second. “Well, first of all the cabinet is upside down. The mounting holes are one of those that you set the anchors, drive the bolt halfway in and then align the elongated opening over the bolts and let it slid down and level. Then you tighten the bolts.”

Tim walked back toward the cabinet and pulled a flashlight out before peering into the back of the cabinet. “Oh, I missed that. You’re right it is upside down. Hey once we get the anchors in the right place this will just take a few minutes to install. The big holes for the bolts confused me.”

“I understand. Now you said something about sandwiches. Let’s not get sidetracked here. Did Becky happen to send any iced tea or coffee with our meal? If she didn’t I have bottled water in my truck.”

Tim smiled and felt worthless at the same time. He should have seen that he was trying to mount the cabinets upside down. Those mounting holes were as obvious as the nose on his face. “She packed us ham and chesses with homemade chocolate chip cookies and iced tea. She included some of those sweetener packets you use.”

Cole Smith nodded. “Tim you married the second best wife ever, after Rita of course. Maybe we should eat now? We don’t want to get distracted by hunger while we’re working.”

“You’re the boss.” Tim replied.

Both men moved toward the box sitting on the bed of the golf cart parked nearby. Tim began to rummage through the box and when his hand was visible again it was full of sandwiches in plastic bags and little plastic containers with cookies in them. Tim placed their meal on the cart’s wooden bed and removed 2 sport bottles with the lids that flip up. A piece of blue painters tape had Cole’s name on it and Tim handed that one to Cole before pulling packets of artificial sweetener from the bottom of the box and handing them to Cole.

“Thanks. Shelter looks good. Looks like Fuller really stepped up. Even with both our families working together there is no way we could have come close putting this together. It looks like a government shelter where the taxpayers footed the bill or some old de-commissioned military facility that originally cost millions to build.”

Tim waited to bit into his ham and cheese sandwich so he could reply to Cole’s observation. “I guess since I had seen it at every stage of construction the effect is lost on me but yeah it’s pretty great. I’d hate to see the tab for the upgrades. I know it wasn’t cheap. Also in a week or two I’m having Jed Cappet and his son or is it son’s plant an orchard up on the hill. Few years down the road we’ll be picking fresh fruit grown on-site. I cannot wait. Fresh apple pie made with apples grown just down from my back door.”

Cole Smith bit into his sandwich and chewed it thoughtfully before swallowing. “Rita makes homemade apple pie that will knock your socks off. Next time she makes one I’ll try to send a piece over if the kids don’t get to it first.”

Tim nodded. “I’d like that. Becky never really got into baking pies. She’s not a fan of apple pie and sometimes in the kitchen to be good at something you have to enjoy eating it. She loves chocolate chip cookies and hers are some of the best I’ve ever had. I bet since we’ve been married she’s tried 20 different recipes and none are as good as the recipe on the back of the chocolate chip bag. She’s tweaked it a bit but the cookies she makes are first class. A few weeks ago she mixed in half a bag of those butterscotch chips and they were unbelievably good. You get Rita to make me an apple pie and I’ll trade you a batch of chocolate/butterscotch chip cookies.”

Cole smiled looking forward to Becky’s cookie. “Deal. I have a Jed Cappet story you might like. So, in my drinking days Jed and I used to go drinking over in Platt. Good guy. He was there the night I met Rita and we fought 3 locals. One of them had put a hand on Rita’s backside. Jed and I made them boys wish they’d stayed home that night. Jed knocked one of them out and the boy hit his head and was concussed. I was stabbed in the leg with a pen knife and got arrested at the hospital with Rita at my side. She didn’t drink at the time and explained to the Sherriff what had happened. The other boys were tanked to hell and were trouble makers so they dropped the charges against me after I spent an hour in a jail cell. I learned a few valuables lesson that night let me tell you.”

Tim nodded. “Are you going to share those lessons?”

Cole smiled. “Sure. Never go someplace where trouble might find you with someone you can’t depend on. Second, if you’re hurt but not going to lose an appendage or die head home and let your personal Doctor to take care of you. And third, never ever feel bad about standing up for someone that deserves it regardless of the outcome. Getting arrested that night was one of the high points of my life. I heard Rita getting after that Deputy and she was relentless and persuasive. If they would have held me any longer I’m not sure they wouldn’t have had to arrest her she was that passionate. I fell in love with her sitting in a jail cell listening to her argue with the Sherriff. I stuck up for her and she returned the favor. Rita and I have a great life together. We own a good business, have 3 wonderful kids, get to pamper 3 grandchildren and counting and have good friends. Friends we can depend on. I’m thankful for all the people in our lives we can depend on. We’re very blessed.”

Tim chewed his sandwich and thought about what Cole Smith had just told him. He understood what Cole said. The older Tim got the more important having people he could depend on was to him. Since Fuller had entered their lives and they had become closer to Cole and Rita Smith Tim’s list of people he trusted and felt he could depend on had grown. For not the first time he appreciated the fact that he and his family lived in a more rural area. You didn’t make friends like this in the suburbs unless you were very lucky. He had friends living in Suburbia and they never talked about meeting people they truly trusted and respected. He was where he was supposed to be. He took a bite of his sandwich and smiled at Cole.

Near the Field’s Property

Fuller wanted one of the beautiful bucks that his trail cameras had caught moving through the Field’s and Smith’s properties during and after the hunting season. Based on the pictures that Fuller saw he estimated that there were 2 or 3 really nice bucks between 3 ½ or 4-1/2 years old. The problem was that the deer were cagey and didn’t allow him a good shot from the either property before the season ended. More than once the wind had conspired to deny him the satisfaction of putting one of the big bucks on the ground. But as fate would have a corner of the adjoining property was downwind of where the large bucks came to feed almost daily. Regardless of if he managed to bag that buck or another trophy Fuller was very keen on hunting that property. Cole Smith had told Fuller that the neighbor, a guy named Freedman hadn’t hunted the property in years. The Freedman’s also hadn’t allowed anyone else hunt the property. The Freedman’s grandchildren did ride ATVs on the property and occasionally Freedman’s son brought out the whole family and they camped but that was about all the use that part of the property got. Cole Smith had issues with Freedman and explained to Fuller that he doubted that Freedman would allow Fuller to use the property.

Cole Smith explained that after a few years after an incident that Cole had learned that Freedman’s people were originally from Kentucky and had been on the property for almost 100 years. But before he know that and not long after Cole Smith set his concrete plant up the smell of something burning convinced Cole Smith to call the Sheriff to take a look and see if there was a brush fire on the Freedman property. Before he called the Sherriff Office Cole drove over the Freedman home but no one was there. So Cole Smith called the Sherriff to investigate the suspicious smell and awaited the Sherriff’s report. The Sherriff came to Cole after taking a look around and finding nothing and told Cole that he suspected that Freedman had been making moonshine just like his father did and his father before him.

10 minutes after the Sherriff left Cole Smith got in his truck and went to apologize to his new neighbor and explain that he would have never called if he had know what Freedman was doing. Cole explained that he had dropped by and no one was home but Freedman was less than understanding and Cole Smith and the Freedman’s had been at odds every since. Cole and Rita Smith suspected that Freedman was constantly contacting the county to complain about the dust on the road to Cole’s concrete plant every since. During that time Cole felt that he was seeing more than his fair share of inspections from every County and State Agency that had a reason to inspect his plant and its operations. Through it all Cole and his wife Rita tried to remember that the inspections might have been part of a caring and efficient county government trying to make life safe and healthy for the residents of the county. But accidently rubbing a man the wrong way that had ties to the community going back 100 years carried risk. Last year when one of the County Commissioners was defeated in his 5th race for re-election the harassment stopped abruptly.

So as Fuller and Mongo pulled up to the rambling ranch style house Fuller tried to figure out what might persuade the Freedman’s to let him hunt the property the next deer season. Even with Fuller’s resources Fuller know painfully little about Freedman and his wife Candy. They had both been born and raised locally but their social media pages indicated that they only socialize with people that lived in or very near the city. They both interacted with locals very little considering their local upbringing which seemed odd to Fuller. Fuller was banking on his ability to let the people tell him what exactly their needs or expectations were. And he hoped that the few minutes that he might spend with the Freedman’s would give him an opportunity to learn the secret to what made the man and his wife tick. As a good faith gesture he held a bottle of very good Kentucky small batch Bourbon. Fuller was very much a nothing ventured nothing lost kind of guy. If it didn’t work he was only out a few minutes of his time and the $60.00 the premium bourbon had cost him.

Fuller knocked on the door of the older style ranch house as Mongo stood beside the truck.

A lady in her 60’s opened the door wearing a plain dress and wearing an apron. She looked pleasant but it seemed she had just stepped out of a 60’s TV show where the women wore dresses at home and the men ate dinner in a suit at precisely 6pm. “Mrs. Freedman I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Fuller R. Brown and I was hoping I could speak with you and your husband for a few minutes.”

The woman smiled. “May I inquire as to what this concerns?”

“Yes ma’am. I was hoping to gain permission to hunt your property. I know that currently no one is hunting the property and some of your neighbors are experiencing problems with the over abundance of deer in the area.”

“What type of problems?”

I’m actually friends with the Tim and Becky Fields up the road and they and the Smith’s were generous enough to allow me to hunt their property this past season. They are having trouble with the deer invading their vegetable garden and Jedidiah Cappet is getting ready to plant an orchard for the Smiths on the backside of the property when the weather is right. They have been told that managing the deer population will benefit their trees and from what I heard Mr. Cappet seems to know his stuff when it comes to bees or fruit trees.”

Mrs. Freedman shifted her weight and was clearly interested in what Fuller was telling her. “Why in the world are they planting an orchard? I thought no one was interested in growing stuff anymore?”

Fuller nodded. “I think they are excited at the prospect of providing nutritious, pesticide-free fruit to their small children. Be a few years before the trees start producing but they worry about the chemicals in fruits and vegetables and the danger seems to get worse every year. I also think they do a little canning.”

She held open the door. “Let’s go talk to Father and see what he thinks.”

Fuller stepped over the sill and offered the bottle of premium bourbon. “For you ma’am. I understand that this house appreciates fine liquor. Of course if that’s not the case I humbly apologize for my confusion.”

Mrs. Freedman took the offered bottle. “You heard right. Father and I will occasionally enjoy a glass of Bourbon. Sometimes during the summer a Mint Julep or a hot Bourbon Toddy if the weather calls for it can sure hit the spot. You might say it’s a family tradition. Now let’s go find father. I think he may be in the garage working on the generator our son uses when he takes his family camping.”

STAG

It had been weeks since a team of Homeland Security and US Marshall’s had faked the death of the gangbanger in the El Paso County jail that had information about the Juarez Cartel’s operations in the US. As soon as Dark Voice heard that the informant was the focus of an operation to fake his death he flew two STAG interrogators up from Belize to El Paso and started making calls. Dark Voice felt that STAG should handle the interrogation since they had made significant inroads into dismantling the Juarez Cartel. The STAG contingent working in El Paso/Juarez border area was having some success and better INTEL would bolster those efforts. But despite his strong feeling that STAG should take point other Federal Agencies including the CIA, FBI, Homeland Security, DEA, Border Patrol and three other Federal Agencies were vying for the opportunity to conduct the interrogations
So Dark Voice had come out of the shadows briefly and made it happen by lobbying a small cadre of trusted people throughout the upper reaches of the intelligence community and a few trusted people at the White House that were vaguely aware of STAG’s mission to dismantle the Juarez Cartel. The powerful people that helped Dark Voice didn’t really know who ran the STAG program, what STAG’s mandate was or how it was funded. Those trusted confidents understood that Dark Voice had been asked to help spread the word by the unidentified leaders of STAG. It was also apparent that despite the US Government’s best efforts that some of the National Security issues posed by the cartels weren’t being adequately addressed by established Law Enforcement or Intelligence agencies. Those issues were critically important in the post 9-11 environment. They demanded a more effective methodology than the resources and restrictive guidelines adhered to by the established agencies. STAG was an entity that was flexible and capable of getting results even when less than savory methods were required to complete an objective.
Dark Voice’s tireless efforts were fruitful so the gangbanger ended up in New Mexico at the safe house in the old gas station that had briefly housed Grimm’s original team. There was outrage and no small amount of dismay and resentment by the Federal Agencies that had wanted to get in on the action along the border. Despite the maneuvering and the political clout that had been expended to take the interrogation out of the hands of mainstream Federal Agencies the determination to let an unknown group handle the interrogations was strenuously opposed by to by the Federal Agencies even after it was a fait accompli. The resentment over losing the gangbanger would foster interest in STAG that was counter-productive to their mission. And that interest and the resentment from established agencies might eventually led to the Juarez Cartel to identifying and finding the men and women of STAG.

Part of the problem with Federal Agencies like the FBI or even the CIA doing the interrogation would be that it had a very realistic potential to interfere with the on-going STAG efforts in Juarez. The other part of the problem could be that information could be leaked, sold or stolen from anyone that had access to the interrogations or the notes from those interrogations. You never wanted to think that any of the brave and committed men and women that had sworn an oath to protect the United States was corrupt but history had shown that it happened for a variety of reasons. The Juarez Cartel was ratcheting up the pressure looking for answers about the problems they were having inside their operation. One way they did that was to approach disgruntled or vulnerable individuals that had access to information they wanted and desperately needed. The cartel could then offer large amounts of cash until someone broke down and said yes they’d help the cartel get the information they wanted. If that didn’t work then the use or threatened use of violence would often gain results. Most people would do whatever it took to keep families and friends safe from harm. The Federal Agents that worked these types of high profile assignments understood that when dealing with the Juarez Cartel there was a possibility that their family could be impacted by their work.

The Juarez Cartel was known for their violence. Kidnappings, torture and murder that were tied to the Juarez Cartel were commonplace. When the Juarez Cartel threatened someone it was no idle threat. Only fools would trust fate to protect them against the cartel.

In 2006 Vicente Fox sent the military in to help gain control over the drug cartels across Mexico. That action combined with a vicious gang war over trafficking routes had turned Juarez into a dangerous place referred to in the recent past by the media as one of the most dangerous place in the world outside of active combat zones. Currently murders were down compared to a few years ago but Juarez was still a violent and corrupt city. Grimm was as sure as he could be that his people had not been corrupted and people in the US had been assigned to keep an eye on the communications network that surrounded his people. There was still the possibility of a face to face hand-off of information or that information could be placed in a dead drop so that a hostile operative could retrieve the information at a later date. To reduce the chance of that happening Grimm seldom let any of his people travel alone. So most of the time they were around other STAG team members and a cordon of electronic surveillance surrounded them 24 hours a day. It wasn’t foolproof but nothing ever was.

The extended interrogation of the Juarez Cartel gangbanger by the specialists from the facility in Belize had yielded tons of useful information including the location of a house in the El Paso suburbs used to store cash ready to be shipped back over to Mexico. The gangbanger didn’t have exact figures of how much money was at the make-shift suburban safe deposit box at any given time. But the description of the piles of money was run through a computer simulation that indicated the amount should be in excess of $100,000. The gangbanger also gave information about the relationship the Juarez Cartel had with El Paso area street gangs.

Recently the Border Patrol had stepped up their efforts to intercept cartel cash and the supply of weapons/ammo heading back into Mexico. The program had experienced some success so cash, weapons and ammo were often stored until a good opportunity was available to smuggle the cartel’s things back over into Mexico. The best part of the information other than maybe getting the chance to take down the stash house was that for the estimated amount of money at the location there was very little in the way of security. In some cases cartel and other criminal organizations relied on maintaining a very low profile while blending into their surroundings to insure their safety. Fewer people guarding their dirty money and weapon stores meant less risk of being noticed by Law Enforcement. It also would mean less danger for the STAG people that would be taking the money.

Grimm had put together a small team to hit the stash house after they nabbed Lee and had sent them to the ranch outside El Paso. One of Close’s people they called Jimmy Keys had also gone to the ranch to with the raid. Jimmy Keys was the best lock and alarm person on Close’s surveillance and intelligence team. When it was time Jimmy Keys would initiate covert entry into the stash house and disable any alarm system in place. After that he would provide support outside the residence as the inside team secured the residents and searched for the cash prize. That small team was doing light reconnaissance of the location given to them by the gangbanger and planning their assault. They had been told that no more than three people were ever were in the house. And since the team members split all seized cash with the STAG program to be used as part of STAG’s operating budget the men heading to El Paso were pleased to increase their potential earnings for themselves and their co-workers.

[alangator]

Fuller Part 57
Fuller’s Office Complex

Fuller and Mongo sat in their chairs in Fuller’s office and laid out the sandwiches they had picked up on the way back into town from the Freedman’s property. The men had already dropped two oversized bags of sandwiches, baked beans, fries, onion rings and pickles off for the rest the office and were anxious to eat themselves. The smell of the barbeque followed them into the office and both men were ravenous. They had been forced to delay lunch and that would have been OK except Fuller had enjoyed a glass of fine Kentucky Bourbon at the Freedman’s as he was gaining permission to hunt their property next deer season. So now Fuller needed food to mitigate the effects of the alcohol. Fuller had skipped breakfast and had asked Mongo to drive them back to the complex fearing that if he was pulled over that he might be legally intoxicated. The case of genuine homemade moonshine in Mason jars in the backseat didn’t help dull the pounding in Fuller’s head. On the way back to the office complex Fuller was hoping food or ibuprofen was the cure-all that would dull the percussive pounding in his head. Hence the barbecue, onion rings and baked beans spread across Fuller’s desk.

The men quickly divided the bounty and were ready to dig in when the phone rang.
Fuller saw that the call originated from one of the security stations and reluctantly picked up the phone as he stared at the bags of food spread across his desk. “Fuller.”

“Fuller, sorry to bother you but 6 black FBI SUVs just came through my checkpoint and I thought you should know. The guy in charge asked that no except you or Mongo be notified. Said you’d know what this was about and promised to drop by after everything was secure and their suspects were safely in custody.”

Fuller put his hand over the phone and turned to Mongo. “FBI just sent 6 SUVs inside the complex. Sounds like a raid team going in to sort out the problem at Sasha’s shop.”

Mongo nodded as he bit into his beef sandwich and began chewing. Sauce dripped onto his chin and he quickly wiped it away unconcerned with the FBI’s presence inside the office complex. Now was the time to eat, not worry about someone else’s job.

Fuller uncovered the phone. “We’ve talked to them and knew where they’re going. Do me a favor and don’t let anyone not involved with our office inside the complex until I call you. If anyone complains too much just call and I’ll talk to them personally. Hopefully they will be done with their job in 30 minutes or so. Did they say anything about evacuating the complex until the problem is resolved?”

The guard replied. “I asked and they told me they had enough people with them to handle it. They just requested we lock the complex down and not let anyone in or out until they give the word. I saw a few of the guys in the SUVs and they were geared up and carrying long arms so they aren’t just going in to question someone.”

Fuller considered the situation and how it would appear to the tenants and any visitors on the property. “I’ll let everyone know about the FBI’s request and follow-up with you after they give me the all clear. You armed and wearing your vest?

“I’m good to go. Let me know when it’s OK to let traffic in and out again.”

Fuller was pleased that his guard seemed to have a good handle on what he needed to do. “Talk to you soon.”

Fuller pressed the receiver down and picked it back up and made 3 other calls while eating his sandwich and jamming perfectly cooked onion rings into his mouth. Mongo sat and ate while watching the cameras outside the upholstery workshop. They counted maybe 12 to 15 agents in full assault gear and watched as they walked Sasha Lesov and two other men from the building in handcuffs. The two men being detained seemed to take the arrest in stride but Sasha Lesov seemed panicky and seemed very animated as he spoke with the FBI people guiding him toward one of the SUVs. Fuller understood that Sasha’s life would never be the same. If the organized criminals that were using his shop as an office thought that he could provide information that enhanced the FBI’s case they could make arrangements to kill him or have him killed. A lot was at stake and the criminals weren’t likely to sweat killing a man they had likely been coercing for some time.

Mongo took a drink of iced tea and swallowed. “If the contracts are good enough you could buy the business and we could find someone to run it. There are lots of returning vets looking for decent jobs. Might not be exceptionally profitable but we might be able to put some people to work.”

Fuller nodded as he tore into the second half of his sandwich. “I like that idea. Didn’t we talk about government money being offered for employing vets?”

Mongo nodded and answered. “We’ve hired a few vets based on merit but I’ll look into it. Be nice to help more of those guys find a decent job and it’s always nice to be surrounded by good Marines.”

The two men ate the food and attended to some other issues and waited for their visit from the FBI. The gate guards reported a few people had tried to enter or exit the complex but when they explained that there was an emergency they seemed to take the information in stride. It was 40 minutes before Mongo noticed that the two Special Agents they had met got in their vehicle and headed to Fuller’s office.

FBI Agent Connor and his grim faced partner Special Agent Moss stepped into Fuller’s office and greeted Fuller and Mongo with hardy handshakes. Connor was smiling and Moss a stoic man was almost grinning.

Fuller had the gates at the complex’s entrances down and wanted to get things back to normal so he cut to the chase. “Agents, we thought it would be weeks or months before we heard from you again. We watched on the monitors and it looked like you got all your subjects. Any problems you can share with us?”

The red headed Special Agent Connor winced. “Actually everything went perfectly except for the 6 people whose jobs we just ended. We’ll see how everything turns out. We just wanted to keep you updated on what happened and thank you for trusting us. It’s always nice to have understanding people that can assist us during these types of investigations. Even if it is just not sharing information with the people we are investigating. We appreciate your cooperation.”

Fuller nodded. “We understand that you have a job to do. We are always happy to help when we’re needed. I think Sasha is a decent guy and hope everything works out for him. Can you people keep him safe?”

Special Agent Connor replied. “We are very limited in what information we can give to you. I can say that it was one of the non-targeted employees that had stashed a small amount of drugs in his work locker. He was worried about his teenage son pilfering his stash so he was keeping it at work. It was a really small amount; I doubt that any charges will be filed against him. From what we saw the place the operation seems legitimate to us. If I had to guess I’d say the business will close permanently.”

Fuller sensed the meeting was nearing its end and stood as he stuck out his hand.

Fuller smiled glad to hear the facility could open back up. “We appreciate you keeping us informed about what was going on and removing the drugs off the property. As a gesture of our appreciation we’d like to make our indoor shooting range available to you whenever you like. We have a pretty nice little set-up and would only ask that you follow posted safety guidelines and pick-up your brass and make sure it ends up in the 5 gallon buckets.”

The other three men shook hands all around.

Special Agent Moss a man they had never really heard speak a whole sentence nodded. “Is there a chance we could take a quick look at your range? I shoot a little and sometimes when we’re out working it might be nice to get in some practice during our downtimes.”

Mongo replied. “I run the range and I’d be happy to show it to you if you have 15 minutes.”

Special Agent Moss almost but not quite smiled. He looked at his partner who nodded up and down.

Moss replied to Mongo’s offer. “I’d like that. Lead the way.”

Fuller smiled. “Gentleman I’ll leave you in Mongo’s capable hands. Seems I need to get this place opened back up. If that’s, OK?”

Special Agent Connor smiled. “You can go back to business as usual. Thanks for shutting the facility down until we were done.”

So the two Special Agents followed Mongo to the shooting range. Mongo had designed the facility and was proud of the results. He showed the agents through the three wide metal doors with commercial grade locks and commercial grade locking bolts. Each door had been made on-site by one of the welders that worked for the office complex that was trustworthy and reliable. 1 ½” of steel backed by a ½ inch sheet of stainless steel and another layer of 1 ½ inches of steel with a layer of fireproofing material sandwiched somewhere inside the door protected it from casual entry. The doors rivaled or surpassed most gun safe doors sold s on the civilian market.

The doors had cost the complex a ton of money but the insurance company that insured the whole complex had insisted that if a range was to be included that it had the security and safety measures that would protect the range from being accessed by anyone other than authorized personnel. And while occasionally they offered special guests access to the range they did everything they could to insure that the range remained inaccessible to unauthorized entry including a video system that was tied into the complex’s security feed and monitored by the on-site security team.

The range itself had 8 shooting stations and was state-of the art. Each 6x8 foot station was lockable from the inside and protected to the sides by 3 inches of clear bullet resistant polycarbonate. The lighting would rival any well-designed range in the nation and was infinitely adjustable to allow practice in a variety of lighting conditions.

The range was well designed but still anyone using it or stepping foot into it was required to sign a non-disclosure statement prior to entering it or utilizing its many features and cell phones and cameras were prohibited once inside the range doors. Those that appreciated a safe first class shooting environment were happy to sign away the chance to share their experience and often asked about the range becoming available to the public. Many shooters were finding it tougher and tougher to find a place to shoot as liability insurance premiums rose and local zoning pressure in many areas of the country forced ranges to close or re-locate to areas so far outside population centers that they had a very hard time surviving.

At the end of the tour the stoic Special Agent Moss turned to Mongo. “Unbelievable place, it’s nicer than our range at the office. Nice job Marine.”

Near the Field’s Shelter

Tim and Cole Smith had completed some of the small projects that needed to done at the shelter yesterday but now Tim was wishing he had gotten more sleep and taken some ibuprofen before he left the house this morning. After two hours of physically demanding work he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Despite the temperature being only 55 degrees he was sweating in just a ratty sweatshirt and a pair of old jeans. He, Cole Smith and the Smith boys were working under a large camouflaged net as they constructed the rebar shell of their emergency shelter in the side of a small hillock. They had finally gotten a stretch of decent weather so that they could get some work done on a back-up shelter both families would share if things at the Field’s shelter didn’t work out or if that shelter was badly damaged. The Field’s and the Smith’s had talked about building a small back-up shelter before the Field’s had accepted Fuller’s offer and were just now getting around to it. The transformation of the Field’s shelter and fall and then winter weather had pushed the project far behind schedule. The lack of good weather was just now being addressed. Then there was the expense to contend with. The materials list primary consisted of rebar and concrete. Cole Smith must have been a master scavenger because a majority of the rebar they would be using was mostly found from other projects and looked it despite being perfectly acceptable for their intended use. That had been a huge advantage to keep expenses as low as possible. Even so there were costs that needed to be paid. Tim and Becky Fields were thankful they had another family to split the cost with, a semi-secret location on the Smith’s property away from the Smith mine and concrete plant and enough cast-offs from other jobs to complete the much smaller shelter.

Today before the end of the day Cole Smith hoped they would be able to spray the shotcrete over the shell of re-bar and backing boards they were assembling. Cole Smith and his son’s had built pools, retaining walls and other landscape features using the method before and liked the fact it was quicker than using forms and provided the same level of strength as walls built using forms. Cole Smith had sworn that they could place the pre-built sections of rebar pieces together and tie the whole thing together and apply the shotcrete in one day. He had explained the keys to getting that goal accomplished weeks before they had started the project. They started by excavating the site in the side of the hill in advance and placing all the gravel they would need where it was easily accessible and covering the disturbed earth and the bright white gravel with camouflaged ground netting. Today they had started with placing all the conduits and pipes in trenches and covering the areas that called for it with the pre-positioned gravel. Then they began constructing the shell of the shelter using the pieces that they had previously assembled and placing them in the correct location. Then it was a simple matter of tying everything together. The next step was affixing the backing boards to the re-bar frame and preparing the site for the final step of applying the shotcrete onto the rebar frame.

Even still, Tim Field’s was not able to comprehend that their small team could construct a 1,100 square foot structure with 9 foot ceilings in a day. Tim had been told that the concrete would need a week or so to set properly. But Cole Smith had been confident that they would be moving dirt back over the earth sheltered building as soon as 7 days. The key to a really good structure was allowing the concrete to set properly. Spraying the concrete instead of pouring it allowed a quicker construction time than using forms and since they were very interested in keeping their little project secret they were sacrificing only a little quality for speed.

Tim and Becky had recently learned that the Smith’s had a second shelter and were thankful the Smith’s felt the need to construct yet another. The Smith’s had over 1,800 feet at the old site where Rita’s parents had lived and Rita had grown up. But in the prep world 2 was 1 and 1 was none. So in a way having three shelter locations available made sense. Tim and Becky liked and trusted the Smith’s and both really appreciated having the extra location on the Smith property as a back-up.

STAG Warehouse Juarez
With Lee possibly being snatched tomorrow Grimm picked up a regular pre-paid cell phone he had bought across town 10 days ago. He dialed the only number programmed into the cheap phone and waited for it to be answered. The phone rang once, twice and just before the third ring it was answered.
“Si, Si.” Kitty answered in Spanish.
“Ocho.” Grimm replied.
“No mas.” And the phone was quickly hung up.

With that call Kitty now understood that he needed to fake an injury and leave Lee’s compound as close to 8am as possible. The last thing Grimm needed was Kitty inside Lee’s compound as the operation to snatch Lee went into action. So Kitty would fake his injury and make his way to a Doctor. The bad news was that the Russians roaming Lee’s compound as security were experienced soldiers that trained in what might be the most demanding Special Forces program in the world. Getting past them was going to be tough. These might be men that would need to see some signs of a serious injury. They weren’t going to release a compound employee for a minor boo-boo.

Grimm and Kitty had game planned this situation and Kitty had a few options that might work to get him off the Lee property. They had even brought in the STAG Doctor to show him how to fake an animal injury that might leave a scar but wouldn’t put his life at risk. Tiger claws pulled from deceased animals had been given to Kitty and he had carried them into Lee’s compound. Lep had also obtained a few ounces of freeze dried fake blood that the CIA had developed. If the powdered blood was added to warm water and stirred it had the consistency and smell of real blood. Kitty could use it to further sell his injury to the guard force. Generally Kitty wasn’t bothered by anyone at the compound except Lee so that might allow him the privacy to enact his escape plan.

One of the things they had considered was that the entire property was under video and audio surveillance making the task of Kitty getting out more difficult. Close had scanned the area with specialized equipment and a micro UAV with very sensitive sensors and both methods had left Close with the impression that more cameras and perhaps audio was being utilized. Close had said that she’d bet money on the fact that the place was ringed with additional devises they were unable to locate. And if Close and her people were unable to ID equipment you knew it was a generation or two ahead of what was currently on the market. An analyst in the US that supported STAG had found links between Madrago and a tech company in Russia that manufactured surveillance gear.


Intelligence was certain that the cartels in Mexico and in Columbia had funded extensive R&D in a number of fields and was willing to gamble big on the possibility of a big pay-off in the legitimate business world. The subs and semi-submersibles seized from Columbian smugglers in both the US and in Columbia and the incredible tunnels along the US/Mexico Border attested to that fact that the cartel was willing to invest their profits in the hopes of making even larger profits. Both the subs and the tunnels were efforts that had cost large sums of money and required specialized design, careful engineering and solid execution. Failure in these types of efforts could be disastrous and lead Law Enforcement to finding and seizing their product.

Now getting Kitty out of Lee’s compound was up to Kitty. Grimm had been assured by Kitty that he could get out of the compound when the men had first met. Frankly, only being semi trained and dealing with the dangerous animal’s everyday might have even freaked Grimm out and not many things worried Grimm. Having such close contact with the big cats without being able to kill them if you were in danger wouldn’t be very fun.

Strangely enough Grimm had operated in an area that had a high concentration of big cats and had been taught how to maybe survive a big cat attack. If he had a good fighting knife and stout walking stick Grimm would rather face a big cat than ever go back to Somalia. Years ago Grimm had been assigned to a mission in the MOG and a coastal town called Eyl in Puntland for 56 arduous days. Puntland is an autonomous area that declared their independence after the beginning of the Somalia civil war in 1991. Both Mogadishu and Eyl were tied to modern pirate activity so Grimm and some other people had been sent to the two cities assist in identifying pirate groups, overseeing ransom drops and rescuing kidnap victims. While both cities had extensive pirate activity the group ultimately ended up in Mombasa, Kenya which at the time seemed to be a popular spot for ransom drops.

Grimm called down to Lep and told him to move a team in to watch Lee’s compound by 5am. They would act as over watch and assist Kitty in any way possible. With that task completed Grimm sat back down to re-access their plans for tomorrow.

STAG Juarez
King studied the photo that Grimm had provided him on the oversized screen. He had requested that his workspace be outfitted with advanced computer equipment for just such an occurrence and thought the image could be sharpened enough to help. He hit a few buttons on the computer before placing the box around the area next to the bedside and clicking. The software began doing its job of refining the image and King went to get a sandwich and a bottle of root beer as the software scrubbed the image to make it more useful.

With food and drink in hand King used his laptop to log into his cloud account and access the poison database he kept constantly updated. He began the task of finding the perfect poison to kill the man they called Madrago. Grimm had told King that Madrago was ex-KGB and handled all the Intelligence and Counter-Intelligence for the Juarez Cartel. King listened to what Grimm thought they might want to do and offered his services gratis. King had never been a fan of Russian spy’s since a friend and co-worker had been captured, tortured and then killed by the KGB back in the old day when it was still called the KGB.

That old KGB trick of using an umbrella to poison a person was neat but as far as King knew nobody had ever been poisoned with a continuous positive airway pressure (CPAP) machine. King was an innovator and artist that prided himself on his unique take on the job of ending people’s lives and this challenge interested him.

He opened another tab and searched Obstructive Sleep Apnea (OSA) and online retailers. The sites he found explained the symptoms of OSA in detail and it wasn’t until King looked at the sites that sold equipment that he became worried. There was a wider range of equipment available than he had ever imagined. He had no interest in the masks as a delivery vehicle for the toxin but even the machines that actually helped the OSA sufferer’s breath while sleeping were manufactured by 12 companies and included just over a 100 models. King hoped that the list of high-end equipment was much shorter because if the pictures didn’t resolve the model Madrago used he would forced to outfit each and every possibility and hope once someone got into the penthouse apartment that they could match the one sitting beside Madrago’s bed and swap it out for one King had altered.

King walked back over to the desktop and checked the software’s progress. To his surprise the image clearly showed the manufacture’s logo and the model number. The housing of the unit looked to be in good shape so if they replaced the unit the chances of the new unit being discovered were relatively small. With the image it would be considerably easier to rig a unit to do the job it needed to do. Assuming one of the team members could get into Madrago’s penthouse bedroom without being detected and then get back out alive.

King went over to the phone and called Lep. “I will be needing some equipment and a specialized compound and its counteragent that should be on file with the CIA. If I could have that by tonight it should only take 3 or 4 hours to do what I need to do.”

Lep wrote down exactly what he had been told by King and chased down the substances through his extensive network of STAG contacts. Two couriers would be dispatched and the materials should be in their hands within 12 hours.

STAG outside Juarez

Grimm had a cramp shooting down his leg as he rolled onto his side to try to gain some relief. He had been squatting on and off for 2 hours and the height of the camouflaged blind had made it almost impossible for him to get comfortable. He had been watching the country club and this morning they had received word that Lee’s visit had been re-scheduled for the next day. Lee had also bumped his posse meeting at the warehouse where the STAG team had seen people tortured and killed to the next day. Grimm rubbed his leg and decided that the surveillance team could handle watching the place overnight. He turned to the guy lying next to him. “Taco, I’m heading back to the warehouse to get some work done. Anything changes you get in touch with me. You guys need anything before I leave?”

The bone conduction headset linked all three men together and the man watching from 50 yards away replied to Grimm’s question.

“Hey boss. Think the chocolate fountain will still be turned on when we get back?”

Grimm smirked. “Not likely. But if you’re interested I know they delivered more ice cream than we can possibly eat in one day. There should be plenty of toppings left in one of the refrigerators.”

The man replied. “Not a big fan of ice cream. I just cannot resist chocolate fountains, the things are totally great. Well, maybe next time?”

As Grimm was crawling the 20 yards to where he could stand up he replied to the statement. “Tell you what we get this thing wrapped up I’ll buy every one of you a chocolate fountain to take back home with you. But the chocolate is on you. Sound fair?”

The voice over the bone conduction headset replied. “I’m counting the minutes. Hell chocolate fountains are better than blowing stuff up.”

Taco the man that had been beside Grimm a few minutes earlier replied. “Bite your tongue foul peasant.”

Grimm stood and moved toward the motorbike stashed down the road. It was a 30 minute ride to the STAG warehouse and a hot bath and his back was hurting him like he was an old man. Playing soldier was more a young man’s game than not. But even so Grimm couldn’t conceive of doing something different with his life.

STAG Warehouse Juarez

Lep set the boxes down on the makeshift workbench and King began rummaging through them trying to determine if everything he had requested had been sent. They had sent 3 matching CPAP units in their original boxes. The plastic tubing, remote controlled actuators, y fittings, assorted clamps and the micro oxygen canister the size of a quarter all seemed as if they would get the job done.

“These should be adequate. When will the compound and counter-agent arrive?”

Lep replied. “Three hours or so. They are sent 2 practice units that you can use for your mock-up. By the time you have the agent/counteragent in-hand we’ll have arrangements made to breach the target’s penthouse.”

“Excellent. This should be an interesting assignment. I should get started so that I have everything figured out by the time the additional materials arrive. Is there any way I could obtain another 6 pack of root beer? It is very refreshing.”

Lep nodded. “I’ll take care of that immediately. You need anything else let me know.”

STAG Warehouse
Grimm smiled at the intelligence analyst’s comments as he popped a tiny marshmallow that had been dipped in the chocolate fountain into his mouth he quickly chewed the marshmallow and swallowed. “So the deal with Benny is finalized?” Grimm took a quick sip of water as he listened to the woman’s reply.

Over the phone the analyst replied. “The deal is signed and in place. Benny has 24 hours to wrap up anything that he needs to do and grab all the money he can before he is required to meet the Government people in Midland Texas to be taken into custody. He’ll serve no time and be placed into the Witness Protection Program as soon as he has been de-briefed. From the notes we saw it looks like he’ll be a treasure trove of information not just about the Juarez Cartel but a few of the other cartels as well.”

Grimm wasn’t surprised at all. Benny seemed to have is hand on the pulse of the cartel and had been involved with it long enough to understand that things were rapidly turning for the worse at least in Juarez. “Good that will help a bunch. Let me know if anything interesting happens with Benny that can help us. Anything else I need to know about?”

The woman cleared her throat. “Well, we also need to talk about something sensitive. We picked up one of your people that voice recognition identified as Bongo.” She paused. “There’s no good way to say this but he broke protocol yesterday and called a kennel near Atlanta to check on his dog. We checked and he did board a Bull Mastiff 2 days before reporting in. The name he used was an alias but we have video of him in the puppy spa or whatever they call it filling out paperwork and handing a dog over. He seemed really invested in the dog so we believe it’s legitimate. The boss had a look at the video from the puppy spa and he thinks we’re OK.”

Grimm almost laughed out loud but quickly gained his composure. Dark Voice was made aware of security lapses like this and while seemingly no big deal it could led to removal from the STAG team if he or Grimm determined that there was a problem. “I’ll speak with him immediately. Thanks for keeping an eye out. I assume the phone was a burner from his pile.”

The analyst answered the question. “No actually it was bought at small shop in Juárez a few weeks ago. We pinged the phone and it was dead right after the call was made. We ping it every 30 seconds or so and there is still no signal on it. We looked at video and think he made the call from a bathroom in a restaurant.”

Grimm replied. “I’ll look into it and let you know if I think anything is wrong. Talk to you later.” Grimm ended the call and shook his head. They all had the chance at an unbelievable payday and Bongo was risking it all to check on how his dog was doing. Younger soldiers didn’t always get it but Bongo had been around for 10 years and knew better.

After a few minutes Grimm called down to Lep and asked him to sent Bongo to his office to discuss the situation.

[sssarawolf]

Than you

[223shootersc]

Thanks for the new chapters, been missing this one

[alangator]

Fuller
Part 58

Notes- this chapter contains a locker room scene and has mildly offensive graphic descriptions of an unclothed male. A violent attack on a female is depicted that some may find disturbing. I think it adds to the storyline and hope you’ll agree.
alangator

STAG Warehouse
“Think about it.” Said Paco

“I did and I have.” Replied Bongo

“I’m saying you should seriously think about it.” Paco implored for the fourth time.

“I said I did, and I have.” Bongo said with some heat in his reply. He was starting to get annoyed at this conversation with his teammate.

“Well if you thought about it then what’s the problem? You should be smart enough to know it’s not a good idea. ” Paco almost barked.

“I said I thought about it just like you asked me. And I decided that I’m not worried about it. Why should you be?” Bongo retorted.

“And that’s the best response you came up with?” Paco mocked.

“It is. As far as I’m concerned the matter is closed.” Bongo stated emphatically.

“If you get wounded and the guys have to haul your butt through a firefight or doc needs to work on you will it be such a good idea then?” Asked Bongo.

“Look, I like the way they fit. They allow a full range of motion and are 5 times more comfortable than the brand I was using before. Plus, they make me feel sexy.”

“Dude, scampering around in your ugly ass red man thong under your street clothes isn’t a good idea. It’s not the type of thing professional soldiers do at work. Hey, Lep told me that it might only be another few days before we wrap this thing up and get some extended downtime. Maybe you should save wearing them for then.” Paco suggested.


Bongo finished off a bottle of water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Grinchito paints his toenails, why don’t you go harass him?” countered Mongo.

“Look if it’s your style I can almost respect that. I’m just tired of seeing your butt crack every time you bend over. It’s embarrassing and more than a little traumatic.” Paco was defeated and now understood that his destiny was to see man crack and that was wrong on so many levels.

“Well don’t look or deal with it. Now are we going to work or are we going to sit around critiquing each other’s wardrobe and braiding each other’s hair?” Bongo joked. In recent years the sexism in the military was slowly being weeded out in favor of a more tolerant environment and while if someone had heard Bongo’s statement they might have taken him for a sexist pig. But in reality he was very OK with sharing certain parts of the job with women. Rosie had been a very good partner for him and allowed them both to blend into situations where two overly fit guys would have looked out of place. “Hey, I’m wearing clothes that were specifically chosen by our fashion consultant to allow us to blend in. it’s not my fault that I make it look good.”

“Consultant never said anything about man thongs.” Snapped back Paco in reply to Bongo’s statement.

“And the consultant never said anything about wearing that nasty ass body spray that stinks up every room you walk into. Everyone that stands within 10 feet of you will definitely remember you and that stink. Would it kill you to spray it in the air and then walk through it so everyone within 15 feet isn’t assaulted by the smell?” Bongo retorted.

“Careful.” Warned Paco.

“Careful why? That spray is absolutely terrible and I’m so over it. Man I need my own space. If it wasn’t for the bugs and the heat I’d pitch a tent and sleep outside.

Paco laughed at his friend. “Well, maybe we’ll both get lucky and this operation will end soon.”
“A man can only hope.” Replied Bongo.

“Does Rosie know you’re wearing woman things under your pants?” asked Paco.

“Well, before she and Ales had to leave we were out timing escape routes and looking at sniper hides we might have climbed on a roof where I was cut on a broken bottle and she cleaned the wound and put in a few stitches. So the answer to your question is that yes she knows and she’s fine with it. It takes a real man to wear controversial underwear.”

“Keep telling yourself that and eventually even you might believe it. What did she say when she saw the abomination? Paco asked.

“She told me that the contractor that does the laundry kept sending them to her by mistake. So she would attach a note and sent them back. Guess the laundry people thought they were hers since she is the only female officially attached to our team.” Bongo had chuckled as he relayed the story.

The grin that had been on Paco’s face while Bongo was telling his story turned to laughter. He laughed for almost a full minute before he was able to bring himself under control. “Dude, I thought man thongs were cut to allow plenty of room for guy storage. Wouldn’t they have been a tad baggy on her? Unless you had them custom made and you’re a little under gunned?”

“Ha, ha. Make your immature jokes. I’m immune to your negative viewpoints and inappropriate comments.” Retorted Bongo.

Lep stepped into their bunkroom from the hallway. “Bongo, Grimm needs to see you ASAP.”

Any idea what it’s about?” Asked Bongo.

Lep replied. “I have no idea. He’s on the clock coordinating the raids so you might want to get moving.” Lep turned around and stopped. He stuck his head back in the room. “Might be about those ridiculous man panties you wear.”

Bongo left the bunkroom and he could hear Paco laughing all the way down the hallway.

Bongo walked down the hallway leading to Grimm’s room/office and knocked gently on Grimm’s doorjamb before stepping inside. “Grimm you needed to see me?”

Grimm stood up from the laptop and turned to face Bongo. “Bongo you’ve done good work here and I appreciate the job you and Rosie did with the two guys in the shipping container. I also want to tell you that one of the routes you and Rosie recommended from the Country Club to the safe house is going to be used if we do the snatch at Lee’s Country Club. But, if you make another unauthorized call I’ll have to send you home. We clear?”

“We’re clear. Sorry for the call Grimm I wanted to check on my dog. It was selfish and stupid and I take full responsibility for my actions.”

Grimm stepped toward Bongo and put his hand out and the men shook hands. “Glad we understand each other. Now, get back to work we have a busy few days coming up and we need to breach Madrago’s apartment in a few hours.”

Bongo turned to leave Grimm’s room. “I’m on it.”

Madrago’s Apartment Building Juarez

Grimm and three other STAG team members waited at opposite ends of the hallway while Jimmy Keys quickly worked the expensive lock with a set of custom made bump keys and popped the door open. As Jimmy Keys swung the door open the two 2 man teams converged on the apartment. Jimmy Keys was surprised that the apartment didn’t have any type of security system but carefully examined the doorframe as he opened it as a precaution. Grimm and Jimmy Keys had already scanned the interior of the apartment with a thermal imager and determined that it was empty. But as a precaution when the team entered ahead of Jimmy Keys they all had their weapons out and up as they cleared the space. After the apartment was cleared by the STAG they all stood in the living room next to the balcony door and were given final instructions by Grimm. Bongo would secure the front door while Grinchito and another man erected and placed the specially built titanium ladder. After the ladder was hooked on the edge of the roof Grinchito would scan the area for anyone that might be able to see them and the other man would hold the ladder. Jimmy Keys would be first up the ladder and would scan the rooftop to insure that if there were any sensors that they didn’t trip them and Grimm would follow once Keys had determined that an area was safe to traverse.

Inside the well decorated apartment Grimm and Jimmy Keys quickly changed into the coveralls with hoods that exactly matched the color of the building’s exterior and slipped on gloves that insured their fingerprints and DNA wouldn’t be left in Madrago’s apartment. Grinchito then used a sticky roller and removed all stray hairs from the two men’s coveralls. Then they slung the fabric wrapped backpacks over the shoulders and made the 20 foot climb to the roof. At the top of the ladder Jimmy Keys used the thermal imager and saw that two of Madrago’s bodyguards were in the kitchen area and appeared to be talking. He then switched over to the listening devises they had dropped near the kitchen yesterday and listened while the two men argued about Italian soccer in Russian.

After a few minutes of looking and finding no alarm triggers Jimmy Keys climbed over the edge of the roof and waited while Grimm did the same. The men quickly made their way to the sliding glass door to Madrago’s bedroom and Jimmy Keys scanned the area for alarms. After not finding any door sensors, motion detectors, pressure plates or visible cameras Keys quickly defeated the lock on the sliding glass door and Grimm slid into the room listening for the movement of the Russian bodyguards in the kitchen. Grimm then walked over to Madrago’s bedside table and pulled the machine King had altered out of the backpack he was wearing and set it gently on the bed. Grimm lifted the CPAP machine off the bedside table and scanned through the machine’s settings. After memorizing the settings Grimm unplugged the CPAP machine and set it on the ground. He then plugged in the machine from his backpack in and placed it exactly were the other machine had been and reviewed the settings. Before Grimm pushed the button to save all the settings he had inputted he placed his thumb over the unit’s small speaker and pushed save. A beep came from the machine and Grimm was hopeful the sound wouldn’t carry into the kitchen were the Russian guards were. Jimmy Keys had been watching the two men from beside the sliding glass door using the thermal imaging equipment and reported to Grimm that the two men were stationary. After that it was just a matter of switching the mask to the CPAP machine King had altered and standing back to insure that everything looked like it did when he had entered the room. Satisfied with his effort Grimm put the machine from the bedside table into his backpack and moved back over to the sliding glass door and slipped back outside.

Jimmy Keys re-locked the door and they climbed back down the ladder and the whole team moved out of the apartment and down the hallway to the back stairs. They quickly left the building and hopped into a work van and began the two hour exercise to insure that they weren’t being followed before returning to the STAG warehouse.


Country Club outside Juarez-
Grimm was covered from head to toe in a prescription self tanning crème that imparted a dark hue uncharacteristic of the creams used in the US that tended to often seem more orange than anything else. The self-tanning crème Grimm was wearing was only available in three countries in South America and had been unable repeatedly to gain FDA approval in the US. The STAG team wardrobe and props department went to the trouble of smuggling it into the US for just such an occasion. Also every follicle of body hair had been dyed black with a temporary dye to help Grimm look more Mexican. The disguise was rounded out with a few poorly done fake tattoos on his upper arms and a sterling silver cross that hung around his neck and was visible outside the tee-shirt he wore underneath his coveralls. Yet Grimm still felt very out-of-place and if the security guard walking toward him sensed that he wasn’t Mexican they would likely be caught very quickly. Since their disguises might be seconds from being put to the test Grimm ran through possible outcomes based on their skills and the tools and weapons they had to work with.

Grimm and Lep were just rounding the corner next to the pro shop and were walking toward the entrance to the member’s locker room on the lower level of the Country Club hoping they could make it there before the guard made contact with them. The entrance to the Country Club was at ground level in the front but in the back the lower level was exposed on two sides. Most of the lower level was the member’s locker room, a card room and the Club’s pricey Pro Shop that booked tee times and carried a wide selection of high end golf equipment and other assorted merchandise. In the back corner of the lower level next to a small storage area was a small garage that housed the golf carts when they needed minor service or when they were being charged between uses. Storage, major servicing and overnight charging was done in the cart barn located 100yards away in an out of the way corner of the property. The cart barn was surrounded by manicured hedges which kept the members from seeing where the carts were stored and serviced.

The guard was heading right for them so Grimm hoped Lep’s Spanish was as good as he had been told. A comprehensive language analysis of Lep’s Spanish by the military showed it was excellent and while in the service his evaluation had read that he was as proficient as a native speaker from Juarez with an above average education. Still the men had hoped to avoid any and all contact with anyone once they cleared the employee gate. They were especially keen to avoid contact with the guard force or the exclusive club’s maintenance supervisor who seemed to know every person that worked for him. Either the maintenance supervisor or anyone on the security force had the potential to ferret out the imposters and that would be very bad for the two STAG operatives.

The guard swung Lep around by the shoulder and demanded to see his ID in Spanish. Grimm and other STAG members had observed the Country Club for a few days and had watched carefully to see how groundskeepers and others interacted with the unfriendly, well armed and aggressive security guard force. Grimm and Lep talked about how they needed to act around the security guards so Lep instantly looked mildly alarmed that the guard had taken an interest in him and immediately handed the guard a forged ID. Both Grimm and Lep had excellent copies of the club’s ID with their pictures on it and felt that the IDs could fool any of the club’s security force. The guard stared at the ID while looking up and comparing the picture on the ID to Lep standing in front of him. Knowing he was next Grimm held his hand out with his forged ID waiting to let the man finish with the first ID. To cement their role as scared club employees Grimm manufactured a slight tremor in the hand holding the club ID. Both men avoided as much eye contact as possible worried that their contempt of the guard would show on their faces. Many workers at the club had displayed a subservient attitude toward the security team and this was common enough that the guards would expect it or at least not think it was out of the ordinary.

Satisfied the guard thrust the ID back into Lep’s outstretched hand. “Vamonose.” Lep took his ID from the guard and waited a few feet away while the guard snatched Grimm’s ID and examined it closely. Grimm carefully watched the guard’s eyes and saw the exact same look of contempt as when he had examined Lep’s ID and thought he was going to be OK.

The guard thrust the ID back out to Grimm. “Get back to work you lazy assholes.” The guard barked in Spanish at the two men and turned, heading off to harass someone else.

Both men were relieved that they had passed the guard’s scrutiny and continued on their mission. They were seeing the Country Club in person for the first time to see if the place had potential as a snatch site in 30 minutes when Lee was scheduled to work with the Country Club’s golf pro. There was a chance that their HVT Lee would make an appearance to receive his golf lesson or he might re-schedule the appointment again. If the proper opportunity presented itself they had planned to grab Lee. So far they weren’t very optimistic. Security was not only active they seemed to be everywhere they looked. The two men slid into the hallway that linked the locker room to the area behind the club and instantly saw they might have made a mistake in entering the club before they were absolutely ready to take Lee and Lee was on-site.

The meanest guard they had seen while observing the site was standing next to the door to the members changing room. He resembled a member of a SWAT team or someone in the military more than a run-of-the-mill security guard. Dressed in black with tactical gear encasing and covering his body he carried an older style suppressed MP5 hanging from his shoulder and had a Sig 1911 style 45 riding on his side in a drop-leg holster. The guard’s uniform looked very tacticool and yet when Grimm had observed the guard slap a groundskeeper yesterday he sensed that the man had been in the Mexican Army. He hit the man with a measured hand and elicited just the right amount of discomfort without doing any lingering damage. When Grimm had first seen him from their observation site he clocked him as being well trained and after watching him he knew he also had a wide mean streak. Two days ago they had seen him forcibly copulate with one of the female bartenders against her will. He was rough whether she wanted him to be or not and the man seemed to take pleasure in the act of humiliating her. After slammed her up against the glass of the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the 18th hole he thrust into her like she was nothing to him. The laser microphone pointed at the window made every word uttered during the attack crystal clear to the STAG team watching. They were there to do a job and they did that job trying to remain professionally detached from what they were seeing. To a man they hated bullies and this man was a bully any of them would have loved to kill. If they got the chance a few of them would have killed the guard without a second’s hesitation. Picking on un-armed and defenseless civilians was one thing, facing men like Grimm and the other members of STAG was another?

While the guard assaulted the bartender at first she had screamed at him to stop and finally she just begged for him to quit hurting her as he spewed hatred and threats in guttural Spanish into her ear and slapped the side of her head. With the high powered gear they were using they were able to see the blood that ran down her leg and the bruises forming on her face after the brute finished with the woman. She rushed off crying and trying to put herself back together. As she rushed across the empty room the club manager passed her without a glance totally unconcerned what had upset her. The manager knew what had happened yet made no mention of it.

The club manager spoke to the brutish rapist in Spanish as he wiped himself off with a handkerchief from his pants pocket and dropped it on the floor. The observation team picked up every word with crystal clear clarity. The manager and the brute were conspiring with a member to cheat another member out of a tidy sum of money at cards in the card room. Their discussion revolved around a problem with a covert video camera that had been producing unreliable video images.
The manager asked the guard to look at the camera after all the club members had left for the night. The manager needed the head security guard to determine if the problem was equipment or an installation problem that was causing the problems and fix it. The brute whose name was Gomez assured the manager that he would personally see to the inspection of the equipment. That implied to Grimm and his people that Gomez had experience and training far beyond that of a mere security guard babysitting assorted low-life-life Juarez millionaires. With an excellent picture of Gomez they started the process of identifying him. The databases that they normally used came up with nothing yet Grimm felt this man had been trained somewhere. Grimm wasn’t surprised to find out that his guess about Gomez’s time in the Mexican military was correct. Not only was he in the Mexican military Gomez had been in an elite unit that specialized in combating the cartels.

So as Grimm and Lep headed toward the short hallway that linked the outside to the member’s locker room lugging their workman’s toolbox set-up to repair or replace plumbing they felt a tinge of apprehension. They had seen and heard enough to understand that Gomez was likely a worthy adversary and despite Grimm’s training and experience he respected the man’s propensity for violence and attention to detail.

Gomez puffed out his chest slightly and stepped toward the men wearing his tactical clothing and sporting a baseball cap with the Country Club’s crest on it. “Work order.” He demanded in Spanish.

Lep handed over a copy of a work order requesting that one of the toilets be serviced. In the box for notes it mentioned that one of the toilet’s had almost overflowed and that a member had been upset at the possibility of his $2000.00 shoes being ruined. The member that had put in the work order was a corrupt Juarez politician that had been made an offer by an anonymous man he had felt compelled to accept. He was to put in the compliant and supply drawings of the interior of the club and in return his daughter that was living in the US with her mother would not be deported and placed on the no admittance and No Fly List.

The STAG tech people back east had intercepted the work order in the Country Club’s system and forwarded it to the STAG base so that it could be printed out and used by Grimm and Lep to gain access to the locker room of the club. Despite the club’s membership of cartel members, crooked businessman and cops, soldiers and politicians with cartel ties no personal security details were allowed to enter the member’s locker room under any circumstances. Only members and staff were allowed in the member’s locker room. For any staff to gain entrance a valid reason and approval from a supervisor was needed. Their copy of the work order authorized them to enter the locker room and had been signed by the maintenance supervisor.

Gomez the brute studied the work order briefly before returning it to Lep. Lep held out the toolbox for inspection and Gomez snatched it away from him and set it on the ground and rummaged through it quickly. Finding nothing that concerned him Gomez turned to Grimm. “I don’t know you. What is your name?” Gomez asked in Spanish.

Grimm’s limited Spanish told him what the imposing man had said yet his Spanish was poor and would never pass scrutiny.

Lep quickly explained in Spanish that Grimm’s jaw had been broken and was wired together which mostly prevented him from speaking.

Gomez told Grimm to open his mouth and Grimm complied as much as the torturous appliance he was wearing allowed.

Gomez had a flashlight from his belt in his hand and shined the light into the recesses of Grimm’s mouth showing the wires holding Grimm’s mouth mostly shut and allowing very limited movement. Grimm playing the part grunted an approximation of Spanish that he hoped would fool the brute. As a precaution Grimm had rinsed his mouth with a concoction that made his breath rank.

Gomez moved back quickly fanning the air around his face with his hand. “That is terrible. You will eat a mint before you go in to do your work. These are very important men; they don’t want to smell the bad breath of a dirty workman.” Gomez scowled in Spanish.

Much to their surprise Gomez dug around in his pocket and handed a roll of mints to Grimm and moved away. “Get to work.” Gomez told the two men in Spanish while moving down the hallway and away from Grimm and his rancid breath. Grimm was relieved they had fooled Gomez and popped two of the mints into his mouth and let it settle between his teeth and his cheek. The subtle hint of cinnamon flooded his mouth and Grimm enjoyed getting the foul smell out of his nose from the substance that had given him the rank breath. The smell wasn’t as bad for Grimm as it was for Lep or Gomez but it still smelled bad and the cinnamon mints were doing a good job of covering it up.

The men moved into the locker room and listened for movement as they moved toward the restroom area. They almost bumped into a member coming from shower and rounding the corner as they neared. Both men were appalled that the man was carrying a towel and was wearing only a pair of designer shower shoes. In the moment before they averted their eyes they observed his twice pierced and grotesque phallus swinging from side to side.

Grimm had been to war and seen untold misery and suffering yet feared the sight of that thing would haunt his dreams for months or years to come. The thing looked like it had been in an industrial accident and they had tried to piece it back together from spare parts.

The rest of the short journey to the toilet area went without further interruptions and both men crammed into the stall that had been reported as having problems they breathed a sigh of relief. Over his ear bud Grimm was told by the observation team that Lee was entering the club’s grounds through the main security checkpoint. The team observing Lee movements today had lost his 3 vehicle convey 2 hours ago and the team was unable link up with the GPS signal that was being jammed from one of the vehicles. The observation team reported that Lee’s luxury SUV was flanked by the two other vehicles that had been with it earlier. And while Grimm hadn’t seen an opening he was rapidly going through plans that they might be able to implement on the fly from the possible scenarios they had game planned and rehearsed. The guard at the locker room door and the guy that had just gotten out of the shower were unexpected details that had been talked about. Neither Benny nor the corrupt politician could have guessed who would be in the locker room when they came to grab Lee.

They had a man inside the bar area making a delivery of beer that had been produced by STAG again using the Mexican Beer with labeling produced by STAG operatives. The van they had used at the café when the snatch had been aborted had been stripped of the vinyl that was on it and vinyl signage for another beer had been adhered to its body. So currently the van was sitting at the loading dock while the STAG delivery driver sat in a stall in the employee’s restroom biding his time until he was needed to drive the two operatives and maybe Lee off the property. Despite the Country Club’s security right now the loading dock seemed to be deserted, free of the suspicious guards and their unpleasant dispositions.

Two main EXFIL routes had been factored into the snatch at the Country Club. The beer van was the first choice and setting an unconscious Lee in a golf cart and driving down the 18th fairway to an empty mansion beside the course and darting between it and another mansion with no fence was the other. Both routes had an element of risk; the determining factor in the final choice was what options were offered by circumstance. Neither Grimm nor Lep wanted to have to fight their way out of a bad situation with only the weapons they had on them and what they could take from the security staff along the way. They had snipers in place but fighting their way off the property was a very poor option. After getting through security to get onto the Country Club grounds and walking around in their employee coveralls and seeing the attention that was being paid to them Grimm was leaning toward dismissing the possibility of doing the snatch right now. The possibility of it succeeding weren’t high enough to warrant the risk. He considered it might be better to leave and re-assess their plan. If that was the case they would try to figure out if the idea had potential after they had escaped from the country club and they were safe. He looked at Lep and shook his head back and forth indicating that they needed to leave and chalk this run up as preparation work they might be able to exploit later.

Both men turned to leave the cramped stall only to find Jesus the maintenance supervisor standing outside the stall with his hands on his hips cleared upset.

Jesus reached for the radio on his hip and instantly Grimm stepped toward him wrapped his hand over the supervisor’s mouth and moved around so that Jesus was in front of him. Grimm struggled with the scared and surprised man as he quickly slipped a syringe out of a hidden flap on his coveralls and injected the man with drugs that would render him unconscious for 4 to 6 hours. As Grimm had been taking care of Jesus Lep moved to the corner to watch and listen for anyone else that might have been in the locker room and heard the scuffle. They were lucky the area was empty except for the guy they saw leaving the shower area. The man was in the far corner near the entry door from the club and was humming to himself. And Grimm held on to Jesus until he went limp as he pulled him toward he Mexican version of a handicapped stall at the end of the row. Grimm quickly covered the short distance and had the door to the stall closed behind seconds after his initial attack had started. With the man unconscious he set the small man on the toilet and listened for sounds that indicated someone had heard the commotion. Both men had brought supplies to allow them some advantages if they were forced to make a quick escape from the Country Club. Included in hidden pockets of their coveralls were supplies that ranged from syringes filled with fast-acting sedatives, alcohol, a small sap and a small amount of explosives with a remote controlled detonator.

Grimm took the sap out of his coveralls and balanced Jesus the maintenance supervisor on the toilet. He swung a small lead filled sap back and forth three times like a golfer lining up a shot until he was sure he had the stroke just right. On the fourth stroke he hit Jesus on the back of the head. The sound sounded right. Grimm was hoping for a good size bump but no lasting injuries. Grimm unscrewed the cap on a travel size plastic bottle of inexpensive Tequila he had brought with him and dumped it on the floor. The drug Jesus had been given would erase a few hours of memory just like a head injury might. They hoped when Jesus awoke that he would eventually assume he caught an employee drinking and had been pushed down or assaulted and that’s how he hit his head. Grimm wiped the bottle off and dropped it on the ground where it would be easily seen by whoever found Jesus. Lep was already picking the lock of the maintenance closet near the toilet area and as Grimm came out of the stall Lep poked his head into the closet to see if anything in the closet would be useful. As the men had hoped a large laundry hamper on wheels was in there that looked like it would accommodate Lee’s unconscious body with room to spare.

Lep wheeled the cart out and gave Grimm a thumbs up looking more confident than Grimm felt. One of the plans they had worked on involved drugging Lee and moving him to the loading dock in a laundry cart if they could find one. That was before they knew for sure that the closet would contain a laundry cart. Benny and the corrupt politician they had coerced into providing information had both made good diagrams of the inside of the country club. Close had taken video of the upper floor and they had crystal clear video of areas that including the reception area, dining area and the restroom area and various open spaces. But the changing rooms were members and designated employees only so the diagrams were all they had. His knowledge of the working areas like the kitchen and employee changing room was weak but from the drawing Benny had supplied them as well as video from Close’s lunch visit they had a fairly complete picture of the facility. That information was supplemented by aerial photos and techs had been able to extrapolate where everything should have been, the package they had started with was more right than wrong.

Grimm stepped over to Lep and reached into his mouth to remove the appliance that he had shown the guard as he reached into a hidden pocket of his coveralls and removed a 3 ounce bottle of bleach. He put the appliance in his coverall pockets and sprayed the area with bleach as they stepped forward and leaned toward Lep and whispered in his ear. “We’re doing this now. Remember what I told you and everything should be fine.” Grimm walked back to the toilet area and flushed one of the toilets. As the commercial unit flushed Grimm touched his ear bud. “One to over watch. We’re blown and need to do this right now. Move all available personnel to their positions for an extraction at this location and scramble the people back at the warehouse. I need them heading this way ASAP. We’re working here in the locker room and will be exiting from the loading dock. Get tech support to initiate the diversion and deception plan numbered 3 immediately. ”

[alangator]

Fuller
Part 59

Country Club just outside Juarez

Since Lee had cancelled everything from the day before the over sight had been assuming it would happen again. So, in the observation van sitting over a mile away Close and 2 men were quickly calling and texting the 3 STAG team members and 3 people from Close’s team that had been assigned other duties for the day to tell them where they needed to be. The team on-site observing the Country Club was large and included most of the STAG team members still in Juarez but every available person would be needed to do the mission safely if things got complicated. In the plans they had worked out to do the snatch at Lee’s Country Club everyone except the medical team was utilized to even the odds and press the advantage of surprise. They had also worked up a list of possible diversions to insure minimum interference from local Law Enforcement or the Military. Luckily the tech staff that supported STAG was at full strength and waiting to hear the words that the mission was going forward. Their plan was implemented the moment they heard over COMMS that the STAG team in Juarez was going to attempt Lee’s capture.


Close keyed the radio. Her calm voice spoke to Grimm as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. “Roger One. We’re putting the band together and request you hold off as long as possible so that we can get as many friends invited to the party as possible. One of my people is contacting Dr. Quinn and the Trekkies to invite them.”

Grimm nodded his head knowing everything was being done that could be done under the circumstances. “Copy. We’ll keep you up to date. One out.”

Grimm understood that every minute they could delay increased their chances for success. The flip side of that conversation was that every minute they delayed offered more opportunity to be discovered and captured or killed.

Grimm moved out into the locker room and was pleased to see that he and Lep were the only ones in it. The member that had been with them inside the locker room had left. Grimm cracked the door to the club and didn’t see or hear anything that indicated that an alarm had been raised. Buoyed by the possibility of grabbing another Cartel idiot he moved back over to the exit near the golf course and repeated the process.

Gomez was gone and Grimm had no idea if he was around the corner, taking a break or assaulting another of the women that worked at the Club. Grimm backed away from the door and touched his ear again. One to blue sector. Anyone have a 20 on Gomez from security?”

One of his men replied. “Position 4 to One. He’s in the front foyer greeting our guest of honor. They seem tight. It looks like Lee’s security contingent is heading to the bar. I count 10-12 bodyguards. Visible side arms and they are removing their ear buds. It looks like they’re taking a break.”

Grimm smiled. “Thanks four. Remain were you are keep me updated. Might want to dial your weapon in for the windows in the bar area. If we need a distraction then I’ll need you to pepper the bar with fire. Remember there are civilian employees there so pick your shots accordingly.”

Four responded. “Copy One, observe and report until needed. I’m your man if you need covering fire.” Grinchito smiled as he adjusted his scope hoping he could end Gomez’s life.

Grimm ran the scenario through his mind looking for things he could still do to increase the odds and grabbed a towel from the basket near the showers. He then headed into a stall and dropped his pants and soiled the towel. He returned carrying the towel by a corner and folded it up and swung it around to distribute the stink throughout the room. Then Grimm set it on the counter. He then grabbed more towels and set them on the counter. “Lep grab the mop bucket from the closet and put a gallon of water in it. Then roll it out and act like you’re mopping the floor. If Gomez comes in and tries to run us off mention that a member shat on one of the bowls and that we’re cleaning it up. In a few minutes the smell of the shat will be whiffing through the room and I’m betting he’ll let us stay until the mess is cleaned up and the place smells like it’s supposed to. If he’s insistent then let me drop him and you follow my lead.”

Lep nodded. “You got it.”


Lee entered the locker room in front of an animated Gomez. Surprisingly enough the men appeared to interact as equals despite the different rungs in society they occupied. Gomez was following Lee down the hallway and stopped next to the entrance to the restroom area and looked in. Before Gomez could say anything Lep took the soiled towel in his gloved hands and wrapped it in two other towels and placed it in a plastic bag before throwing the bag into the hamper.

The words had died on Gomez’s lips at the sight of the towel and he turned to go find Lee to say goodbye. Gomez and Lee spoke for a few minutes and Gomez headed out the door to the golf course and putting greens. Grimm and Lep listened carefully as the door swung back closed. The men quickly and quietly walked through the rest of the locker room to insure that they were alone with Lee and were happy they had been lucky enough that no one else was in the locker room. Grimm did a rundown of their situation in his head.

With Gomez at the door and the locker room empty now was the time to strike and so Grimm walked to the row of lockers Lee was using and slid up behind the aspiring golfer knowing that he would never play another hole of golf again. Grimm wrapped his hand around Lee’s face and over his mouth and drove the syringe into his shoulder near his neck. As soon as Grimm was confident the needle was in Lee’s neck he depressed the plunger. Within seconds the man was limp in Grimm’s arms and Grimm was moving toward the cart dragging Lee’s limp body backwards with him. Lep handed him a strip of duct tape which Grimm quickly placed over Lee’s mouth.

Lep quickly zip tied Lee’s hands while Grimm returned to the locker Lee had been using and snagged the wallet, keys, phone and a roll of US 100s that was as big as a fist and dropped them into a black work out bag Lee had brought with him. Satisfied that he had everything of value Grimm shut the locker. Hopefully they would be gone before anyone understood that Lee had been abducted.

Grimm moved back to Lep standing next to the cart. “We need to pull his clothes off; his people might have a tracker on him.”

Lep popped open their tool box and pulled a pair of EMT shears from the bottom of the box and almost began snipping off Lee’s expensive clothing before Grimm stopped him. “We need to pull them off and put them in his locker. They will confirm he made it here before being called away by the mysterious caller. He paused and went back to Lee’s locker and searched and found Lee’s keys hoping the man had a key to his padlock. Finding the keys Grimm locked the locker and moved back to the cart.

Lep had stripped Lee of his clothes in less than a minute and was now was squirting the area around them with a can of aerosol air freshener. He then turned and added towels from the bin near the showers to the pile in the cart.

Grimm picked up Lee’s clothing and went back to the locker and unlocked it and carefully hung the clothes up on the hangers in the locker. All the hangers were from Savile Row shops. Savile Row was an area in London that was known for its bespoke tailoring and fine suits. In the last 20 years all manners of dictators, despots and international criminals had been flocking to the exclusive shops to put another notch on their luxury belt. Lep tested the way the cart moved with Lee’s body in it hoping to disguise the weight of the loaded down cart. Happy with moving the cart as to make it look lighter than it actually was Lep handed the gun he had pulled off Lee and handed it to Grimm who slid it into his pocket. The 9mm pocket pistol was lacking in knockdown power, magazine capacity and had inadequate sights but it was better than they had started with which was no gun.

Grimm walked over and flushed another toilet and pressed his finger to his ear. “One to observation. Target is under our control and we are 4 minutes from EXFIL. 20 on Gomez?”

“Position 5 to One. He’s at the changing room door to the course.”

“We’re moving.” Grimm growled “Wish us luck and stay sharp.”

Over the ear buds Grimm and Lep heard Close reply to the information. “Copy one. Everyone is waiting on your signal.”

“Copy.”

Now the men moved toward the door and as they opened it Gomez stood standing guard and Lep sprayed the air freshener behind them back and forth hoping to distract Gomez from anything other than thinking about the smell that was being covered by the spray and the contents of the cart.

Gomez instinctively moved away from the workman and moved down the hallway away from the entrance while turning to avoid having to smell the cargo they were removing from the locker room. Despite his disagreeable manner it turned out Gomez was easily offended when it came to smells. Grimm was just glad for the break and moved the cart away from the doorway and down the short hallway and back into the sunlight and fresh air.

The men pushed the cart and headed for the loading dock confident that they would be able to slip Lee into their fake beer van and make a non-eventful escape. Their beer van was where they had seen it earlier and one of his men on the team was behind the wheel waiting for them to make the transfer and pile in. Just like earlier the loading dock was devoid of guards or club employees so Grimm and Lep picked up the cart and slid it into the van’s side door. Their HVT was in the van now and all they needed to do was to get off the property so they closed the door and the drivers started the engine and pulled away from the loading dock. Grimm began to secure the cart behind a stack of bottled beer to keep it from moving around and Lep threw a beer banner over it. As the van approached the guard shack both Grimm and Lep laid down to stay out of sight.

Grimm keyed his radio through his ear bud. “We’re mobile. All teams move to blocking positions.” Three minutes later they drove past the guard shack and out onto the road that went past the country club. The van’s driver turned right as the plan they had worked out before called for and set a leisurely pace for a mile until they pulled over onto an empty side road and stopped after driving between two large bushes. Instantly another van pulled up beside them and two men jumped out while Grimm, Lep and the driver got out of the van to help make the transfer. They made the transfer within 30 seconds and one of the men moved toward the back of the stolen van and tossed a package into the cargo area. He then ripped off the vinyl signage that had identified the van as have just been at the Country Club and switched on the small wireless cameras hidden underneath the van. Someone on the tech team back east would monitor the van every second between now and when tonight’s activities were complete. If undue interest was taken in the van the package would be triggered remotely. A pop would be followed by an increasingly significant fire. After onlookers had the chance to get away the 5 gallon jerry can of super hot accelerant the STAG operative had slid into the van would be ignited. The team member quickly closed the door and hoped into the getaway van and it was off.

Grimm picked up a radio off the dash and pressed the button to talk to the rest of his team. “This is One we’re clear. All teams report to your cool down sites and check in at your scheduled times. Great work people. One out.”

While Grimm was talking on the radio two men in the back were examining Lee to insure that he didn’t have any tracking implants that could allow Lee’s security people to track them. Flashlights and specialized metal detector moved over every inch of his body and around the inside of Lee’s mouth. Despite the effort neither specialist could find anything that looked suspicious. The van made its way to the area that they would loiter in until it was known for sure they were clear and that they could call in the helicopter and rendezvous with it southwest of town. It was hours until dark and the men were all slightly nervous knowing that they could have been followed or tracked. Lee was a big fish and they had snatched him in the middle of the day without even the slightest problem. They had also done it without a completely formed plan and with a dangerously inadequate amount of backup.

It seemed too easy and Grimm climbed back into the back of the van and again compared the photo they had gotten from Kitty the agency guy that had been working undercover inside Lee’s compound as a big cat handler. Grimm was 95% sure this was the right man but this was very important so he checked the photos. The tell tale moles on Lee’s arms that the images had captured made Grimm think he was almost 100% positive that this was their man. Now that Lee was sprawled in the back of the van the trail to the terrorist they needed to find was getting shorter every single minute of the day. With his flashlight already out Grimm examined the body looking for anything that could be used to track Lee. Glad that he found nothing and his men had done a good job Grimm let out a heavy breath that felt like he had been holding for months. They had worked their way up to man that would either be responsible for the violence on the US side of the border or lead them to the people that were. This was almost over, Grimm could feel it and at this point in time he really was hoping that the job would be turned over to a SEAL Team. Let them worry about how to snatch or kill these people now that they understood that they were being hunted. The Cartel in Juarez had massive amounts of money and that power and influence had allowed corruption to infiltrate every level of Juarez society and government and politicians were even worse.

Grimm asked for and received an encrypted satellite phone and called Doc to find out how Kitty was doing. Grimm was going to tell Kitty that Lee had disappeared and that Kitty’s mission was over and that he didn’t need to return to Lee’s compound. But the Doc had informed Grimm that currently Kitty was resting in the STAG team’s improvised hospital. After faking an injury this morning and getting off Lee’s property Doc stitched Kitty up and gave him a medium dose of I.V. pain killers. The stress of Kitty’s assignment had worn on the man and he had been sleeping every since he received the drugs. Satisfied Kitty was OK Grimm then called Dark Voice to tell him Lee had been captured without incident, Kitty had been safely evacuated from Lee’s compound and asked that Dark Voice inform Kitty’s agency that he was safe and would be escorted over the border as soon as Kitty was fit to travel. Grimm also informed Dark Voice that the rest of the day should prove interesting and everything was in place to blow up the meeting and Kill Madrago.

Dark Voice was pleased and asked to be kept informed. The call ended and Grimm waited to make another vehicle switch.

Eastern United States

The techs back east called the number from Lee’s phone and the head bodyguard answered in slightly drunken Spanish. The techs voice was routed through a computer and sounded exactly like Lee’s and even copied his speech patterns. The bodyguard was told by Lee that he was visiting a friend that lived in a house on the golf course and would be a little late. Half the security team was to head out to the meeting and he would be along as soon as he was done enjoying his friend’s company.

The bodyguard had been drinking and didn’t think anything of the request. But knowing Lee would be back soon the bodyguard switched to drinking water and ordered another cheeseburger to absorb all the alcohol he had drunk while waiting for the leader of the leader of the Juarez Cartel. He sent one of the vehicles and 5 men to the meeting as he had been told and continued to wait sad that he wouldn’t get another drink for another hour or so.

Lee’s Warehouse

With the party in full swing King stood across the street behind an empty dumpster. He set down the remote controlled vehicle he had assembled at the warehouse and quietly tested the steering for the 4th time since arriving. Satisfied with the response he placed a box with the end cut out over the car and climbed the stairs to the roof.

King now had a good view of the street and Lee’s warehouse and edged the RC vehicle up to the curb on his side of the street and waited for a break in the activity in front of the warehouse. He quickly put on safety glasses, a safety shield to cover his face and ear protection. King eased the vehicle over the curb and inched it toward his target. When the vehicle touched the break in the curb on the opposite side of the street he goosed the controls and within seconds and before anyone understood what was happening it was inside the warehouse. He hit the button to detonate all the charges and fell flat on the roof and covered his head with his arms. A half second later the warehouse exploded and a cloud of dust rolled out of it while debris rained down on King’s back. Satisfied that all the charges had gone off King quickly stood and ran to the fire escape on the far side of the building and trampled down them as quickly as he could. Grimm waited in a car at the bottom of the stairs and as soon as King opened the door Grimm could hear the faint screams of the mangled men and women that had been injured in the blast. Grimm was off before the door was shut and speeding down the road.

Grimm stared at the road as he spoke. “How did it go?”

King nodded toward Grimm. “It went well. I think you will be very happy with the results.” King paused and didn’t speak for 30 seconds. “When does the Russian usually go to bed?”

“Midnight if we’re lucky and he doesn’t hear what happened at the meeting. But we should assume that the cartel will know what’s happened within the hour and the Russian will be up late. At this point we just wait until the opportunity presents itself.”

The man they called King nodded. “Death follows the Russian. He is not a young man and will require sleep before dawn or shortly after. I am a very patient man. His life will end tonight.”

Grimm drove the car toward the building where they would watch Madrago from over a mile away. Since Madrago’s penthouse apartment was slightly above them they could only see the man’s upper chest, neck and face as he walked into his bedroom wearing expensive pajamas at eleven and climbed into his bed.

30 minutes later a small listening devise Grimm had left in Madrago’s room switched on and they were able to hear Madrago breathing and the sound of the CPAP machine doing its job.

King looked at Grimm. “It sounds like he may be asleep. Even if he isn’t and he has the mask on the compound will kill him quickly. Once he breaths the compound, it will be over within seconds.”

“Do it.” Was all Grimm uttered. Grimm had come to terms with killing Madrago and as he watched King took out a small remote control and flipped the safety cover up and depressed the button.

Over the listening devise they could hear their target’s breathing pattern change over the sound of the CPAP machine. Within seconds they could hear him thrashing around and a thump that sounded like he had rolled off the bed. Still the CPAP machine continued to run impervious to the fact that the patient had likely died. The two men waited 30 minutes and no signs of life came from the room. They assumed their target was dead so they left the vantage spot and Grimm dropped King off at a hotel where he would change clothes and make his way back to wherever he needed to be.

King slid out of the car and neither man uttered a word. As soon as King was out of the car Grimm drove quickly down a few alleys close to the hotel and left the car in a parking lot before getting into a car driven by Lep.

How did it go?” Asked Lep.

Grimm almost smiled. “The angle was bad but we think it worked. What’s the count from Lee’s warehouse?”

Lep swung wide of an old bus that had been converted to a RV or living quarters. “We think that 14 were killed, 17 wounded of which 11 are critical. The techs say that with Juarez’s current medical shortcomings that 60% of the critical cases will die and maybe one of the non-critical cases. If we’re lucky that means 20 or 25 deaths.”

“Excellent, let’s go get some sleep. Tomorrow is another busy day.” Grimm uttered.

[Mr Bill]

Some fine updates for sure. A little here and a little there and the house of cards comes falling down.

[stjwelding]

Thanks for the great chapter alangator
Wayne

[alangator]

Fuller
Part 60
Industrial Area of Juarez

The plan had been for Grinchito and a team of 7 others to hit the cash storage warehouse last night at the same time that Lee’s warehouse was blown up by King. But 20 minutes before they were scheduled to be given the OK by Grimm high ranking members of the Juarez & Federal Police, the local military and their personal protection details had began arriving for what turned out to be a weekly all-night poker game. The surveillance team and all the communications people back in the US had missed any details about the game. Grimm ordered Grinchito to delay the mission and observe and report what was happening. Grimm also implored Grinchito to have everyone focus on getting a good count of the people entering and exiting the warehouse. Knowing how many people inside the cash warehouse was crucial to the mission’s success. Despite the party at the cash storage warehouse Grimm elected to continue on mission at Lee’s warehouse party and taking out Madrago hoping that after the poker game ended they could finish their work. It was a risk but Grimm had devised a few back-up plans and he had one for a scenario such as this.

Not surprisingly after word of the explosion at Lee’s warehouse party made its way to the cash warehouse more men were called in to guard the money while the various friends of the Juarez Cartel either played poker or discussed what had happened earlier in the night. The people monitoring the cell activity told Grimm that it wasn’t until almost midnight that the news that Lee hadn’t been at his party when the explosion happened reached the poker players. A few hours after Grinchito had informed Grimm of the problems at the cash warehouse Grimm and Lep showed up and Grimm took over to supervise the operation. Grinchito had proven to be a good leader so Grimm put him in charge of this raid but now that it had gone sideways Grimm stepped back in to lead his people. So with Lep his number two at his side they considered their options and found one of Grimm’s back-up plans they felt would work once the poker game broke up.

The VIPs, their protection details and additional guards on-site meant that robbing the warehouse entailed too much risk until the number of people inside of the warehouse dropped to a more manageable level. At that point Grimm was unwilling to risk the safety of his men until the situation favored the STAG team. The STAG team and Close’s team had both been very lucky and had only minor injuries since they began the operation in Juarez. They had done exceptionally good work and had started to see the results of their efforts. Grimm just knew that no matter how much money was in that warehouse losing people wasn’t an option at this point.

According to the numbers Grimm had been given he speculated that as few as 10 men and as many as who knew were guarding the building’s contents. Grimm choices were leave and chalk the blown mission up to bad luck or sent someone in. Grimm elected to send someone in.

So as employees entered the other side of the building for another day of work and with the participants of last night’s poker game gone Grimm tapped Lep on the shoulder. “You and Gracie ready?”

Lep watched the building his eyes never leaving the two doors that separated them, possibly millions of dollars and an unknown number of cartel guards. “Gave us 30 minutes to get changed and to pull the van over to the other side and clear the place out and then we’ll try to see if we can get inside the cartel side.”

Grimm nodded proud of his fellow STAG teammates. “Careful. Remember if it’s more than 15 guards, the warehouse entrance is a funnel that will get us killed when we walk in or you can’t move them away from video monitors so that we can surprise them then we walk away.”

“Understood.” Was Lep’s reply as he turned and low crawled toward Gracie.

Lep stopped at Gracie who was holding binoculars to his eyes scanning the target area. “You ready for this?”

Gracie nodded. “I’m ready. Let’s get changed and get this over with.”

Lep and Gracie low crawled to the building’s stairwell and changed into their uniforms just inside the doorway. The men then headed down the stairs to the vehicle that was so crucial to the mission’s success.

Lep and Gracie walked down the street and climbed into the stolen van. On the side of the van it said, ‘Gas Natural de Juarez’. Gas Natural de Juarez was the local gas company and they had chosen a gas company van because people in Juarez knew about gas leaks. The utility had been under investigation numerous times for explosions that had killed and injured many people. With all the news coverage of the accidents and the investigation every resident of Juarez understood that a gas leak could level entire city blocks. Lep and Gracie needed to clear out the manufacturing side of the warehouse and insure no one stuck around while they worked on stealing the money on the other side of the warehouse. And the best way to do that was to investigate a gas leak. Their plan was to inform the people on the manufacturing side of the warehouse that they had a gas leak and convince them to evacuate the building. After Lep and his partner walked the building to insure it was completely empty they would try the same thing on the other side of the building. That would allow them to get inside the warehouse and get an idea of how many guards remained inside the building. If the number was low enough and they didn’t evacuate the building they would breech and rob the place if a good opportunity presented itself. If they had too many guards and wouldn’t leave the building and didn’t feel a breech would be successful they would rig the other side of the building and blow it. They wanted the money but the next best thing was to destroy it.

Lep stopped the gas van in front of the warehouse and he and Gracie got out. Lep reached in and pulled out a clipboard and touched the sniffer on his belt. He glanced at the clipboard before heading toward the warehouse’s door on the manufacturing side.

Within a few minutes Lep had convinced the manager of the manufacturing operation that they needed to evacuate the building and the employees were heading outside. The manager had told the employees to call him on his personal cell around noon to see if they could return to work. Lep, Gracie and the manger walked through every room on the manufacturing side of the warehouse and took reading with their equipment. While the equipment didn’t alert their main goal was to insure that this side of the warehouse was completely empty. The manager then locked the door after Lep deemed the side clear of a gas leak and went for breakfast. Before he left the manager handed Lep some money and Lep promised to call as soon as it was safe for him to return to work.

Lep and his partner then drove the van over to the other side of the building and walked up to the intercom with a camera above it and pressed the button. A man answered and Lep explained in Spanish that a gas leak had been detected in the area and that they needed to take some quick readings with their equipment to rule out the possibility that the gas leak originated in the warehouse. The man told him to wait while a person was sent to meet them. Again Lep explained to the guards what was going on as they walked into the warehouse. Out of the corner of his eye Lep saw pallets stacked with something wrapped in opaque plastic. Lep didn’t know if the pallets were cash but if it was indeed cash, it was a lot of it.

Lep and Gracie were led to one of the offices in the back of the open space with windows that overlooked the interior of the warehouse. A heavy set man sat behind an expansive desk covered with dirty magazines. The man was dressed in jeans and a designer t-shirts that emphasized muscular arms and minimized the gut hanging over his belt. Along the wall next to the manger four 30 inch monitors hung from the wall scanning through the cameras placed inside and outside the warehouse. As they had walked in Lep had counted only the two men that had escorted them in and the man in the office but knew it was likely there were at least 7 other men in the office area. The office area didn’t have windows that looked over the warehouse area so Lep was encouraged there was still a chance they could take the place down. If there were monitors in the office area that someone was monitoring the situation could quickly change.

The men spoke for a few minutes and Lep was told that they weren’t allowed to leave the building unless it was on fire. But the manager agreed to let them take readings escorted by the two men that had let them inside the building. As Lep talked to the man he was eyeing the red button he hoped controlled the magnetic lock on the door they had entered from. Gracie had spotted the outline of an AK-47 with a magazine inserted laying underneath a blanket on a credenza behind the desk and made sure he never glanced at it while the men and discussed what needed to be done.

Lep reached into his tool belt and pulled the gas detector out its holster and switched it on. He waited for the machine to warm up and when it did it made a slight beeping sound. Lep explained that the beeping indicated a small amount of gas and that the office should be evacuated until they had a better idea of what was going on. He dutifully recorded the levels given by the equipment on the sheet of paper of his clip board.

The fat man cussed and pushed himself out of the chair with some amount of effort and they all moved out of the room. The manager headed to the other offices to inform the others of what was going on and Lep and Gracie along with their cartel escorts began walking around the perimeter of the main warehouse space.

Grimm had seen the lack of alarm wires or contacts on the door when Lep and Gracie had been ushered into the building through Lep’s video feed. They saw that the manager was leaving the office and hoped that the video monitor was the only one inside the building. Grimm and 5 STAG members rushed to the door.

Grimm spoke into his phone quickly and another diversionary plan was enacted. Like the other diversionary ploys they had used the system the police and military used had been hacked and was being controlled by a STAG support team. That team would divert as many police and military personnel away from warehouse and the escape route as possible. One of Closes people triggered the magnetic lock using a devise the size of a fist. The door opened freely and with Grimm leading they entered the building. The team ducked behind pallets of 55 gallon metal drums and Grimm scanned the shadowy interior of the building with a thermal imager. He saw 4 people heading their way from the next room and assumed it was the two STAG men with their escorts. Over toward the office area he saw 8 heat signatures and assumed that they were the guards assigned to keep the money inside the building safe.

When Grimm’s people were almost directly in front of him he stood up from behind the barrels and shot both men in the head with a suppressed 22 pistol. The rest of the team had popped up after he did and was covering the area with their suppressed ARs. Lep reached down and jabbed a knife into each man’s heart and then slit their throats to insure they were dead. Lep and Gracie were handed the 35 pound ballistic vests that held their sidearm and extra magazines. Then they were handed their weapons and allowed 10 seconds to insert a magazine and chamber a round. They were now ready for battle.

The team moved as one to just outside the office doors and Grimm held the thermal imagers to his eyes again. Using hand signals he indicated were all the guards were and assigned the men the zones they would be covering during the entry. Before the STAG team ever stepped foot in Mexico they had drilled close quarters combat and felt very comfortable in this type of scenario. Despite the fact that the team was made up of two STAG units that had been merged into one Grimm was confident of the skills the team possessed. Plus, surprise was on their side and Grimm could see that none of the men in the room appeared to be actually holding their weapons in their hands.

Grimm counted down and the team entered the room and killed everyone in it within 10 seconds without a single enemy touching a weapon. Outside the office Grimm quickly ordered the men to retrieve the forklifts and begin loading up the pallets in one of the 28 foot trucks in the warehouse. While two men went to get forklifts Lep and Gracie went to find keys and the other men guarded the door. Grimm walked over and cut into the wrapped pallets to insure that it was money that they held.

Grimm was smirking when Lep returned with all the keys he had found in the office. “It’s cash?”

Grimm nodded. “Literally a ton of it. I checked and it’s all legitimate US Dollars. There’s millions, going to take a while to count it all.”

The men had returned with the forklifts and Grimm hopped into the truck and started it up. He slipped into gear and pulled forward 10 feet and then reversed and backed it up 10 feet to insure it was in operable condition. They had minutes and didn’t have the luxury of being wrong so when a situation like this presented itself they always did a quick visual inspection of the vehicle and quickly tested it to insure that it was operational enough to assist them in the completion of their mission. Grimm hopped out of the cab and gave the two operators and thumbs up before going to the back and raising the truck’s rear door. He then wheeled a pallet jack over to the pallets with the money to insure it fit into the pallet and would lift the loaded pallet off the ground. Satisfied it worked properly Grimm lowered the pallet back to the ground and waved the first forklift over. He pointed to the pallet jack and gave the universal signal for up by holding his forearm vertical pointing his forefinger up while moving his hand in a small vertical circles. The operator nodded that he understood as he pulled over to the pallet jack.

Grimm maneuvered the pallet jack onto the arms of the forklift and the operator lifted the pallet jack into the air and deposited it into the back of the truck. By now the other operator had picked up the first pallet of cash and was ready to deposit it into the back of the truck. Lep and Gracie hopped up into the truck and maneuvered the pallet jack around until the arms were facing the rear of the truck.

Almost instantly the forklift driver gently set the pallet of money on the back of the truck and Lep quickly slid the arms of the pallet jack underneath the pallet, raised it and pushed it to the front of the truck with Gracie helping. Because they didn’t have enough room to fit the pallets end to end Lep dropped the pallet and re-positioned it on the other side of the pallet before maneuvering the pallet into the corner so that he could set two pallets side by side. Once he thought the pallet was in the correct position he moved forward to insure that the pallet was as close to the wall as possible. When he was finished the next pallet was waiting so he repeated the process and placed it next to the first one again with Gracie lending a hand. The two men repeated the process a total of five more times. The last two pallets required more effort since they had less room to work with and by the time they loaded another pallet jack into the back of the truck both men were exhausted. Sweat dripped from their heads and there were stains underneath Lep’s arms. Satisfied the load was secure they men jumped down and pulled the door shut. Lep then fastened a padlock to the door handle and Lep and Gracie retrieved their weapons.

Grimm walked over and saw the perspiration dripping off Lep and Gracie. “It looks like we are going to need to burn this place for sure.”

Lep nodded. “Yea, should have taken off the battle gear. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. The cartel owns the building and the sweat shop will reopen in matter of days. Someone is always someone looking to rent space to a sweat shop in Juarez. Let’s go ahead and open the gas tanks of the truck and the vans and place the explosives. We need to be gone 2 minutes ago.”

The men had cut or clipped the fuel lines of the remaining vehicles in the warehouse and strategically placed the 1 pound packages of explosives they had brought with them. While they did that Close’s guy had stepped inside the warehouse and was rigging the cameras to transmit their feeds to his encrypted tablet. They would use the cameras they had placed in the manufacturing side and the ones on the money side to insure nobody was in the building that wasn’t supposed to be when they blew the building up.

Grimm drove the large truck out the warehouse’s overhead door with Grinchito riding shotgun and Lep and Gracie lowered the door and walked outside to their stolen gas company truck. They drove a mile and pulled over into an area that didn’t have people that lived close by and transferred to another van. But before they left they torched the stolen van. The gas company could afford another one to replace it.

As they sped off Gracie turned to face Lep in the rear of the van. “How come every time we torch vehicle we call it the PBP?”

Lep smiled. “We burn the cars and trucks because that reduces the chance of any forensics being left at the scene.”

“I’m not stupid I understand that.” Gracie replied testily. “I’m just trying to figure out what the hell the PBP means.”

Lep nodded. “The PBP is the Point Break Protocol.”

Gracie nodded. “That makes sense, good movie. Hey when is the doctor going to meet us in El Paso? I kind of got creased at the warehouse and thought maybe he could take a quick look at it.”

Lep looked at his watch. “Doc was released to return to El Paso a few minutes ago. Should be over and set-up in 45 minutes or so. I’ll take a look at it and wrap it. You need to take your vest and your shirt off.”

Gracie struggled to remove his overalls and the t-shirt underneath it but finally managed to get them off and then removed a bloody trauma pad that covered the wound. The bullet had passed through the fleshy part of his tricep and was weeping a small amount of blood. The wound would need to be examined by the Doc but as GSWs go it was no big deal.

Lep examined the wound knowing it could have been a lot worse. But it wasn’t anything a quick cleaning, some anti-biotical salve and a sterile bandage couldn’t fix until Doc could treat it properly. “Sorry man, my bad.”

Gracie stared back. “It’s my fault. I stumbled on the dead guy just inside the door and was a tad slow getting on target. You covered my butt and I appreciate it. Like I said it’s only a scratch.”

[alangator]

Fuller
Part 61

West Texas

Local, state and Federal Law Enforcement agents sat behind a big box store waiting for the OK to carry out their raid. Their intended target was a non-profit that assisted pregnant women that intended to put their newborns up for adoption. And while their “safe and secure birthmothers living facility” had spacious rooms, an indoor pool and a large exercise area the facility had ties to the Juarez Cartel and were essentially selling babies to the highest bidder. The non-profit that was less than an hour from being raided was run by Catalina McMillan-Gomez. The STAG team had watched Catalina McMillan-Gomez kill a man on grainy video in a fight to the death at Lee’s warehouse party. STAG had also provided the tip that led Law Enforcement and Child Protective Services to investigate the facility and Catalina McMillan-Gomez.

The men and women standing around in the back of the big box store were a collection of local, state and federal agencies. Locally the task force included the local Sherriff and three of his most trusted and experienced Deputies and a man and woman from Child Protective Services. At the state level investigators from the Attorney General’s Office headed the contingent that included, members of the Texas Department of Public Safety including two grim faced Texas Rangers, the Texas Health and Human Services office, two forensic accountants from the State Comptroller’s office and three other State of Texas offices. Federally the raid would be headed by the FBI and included 3 other Federal Agencies including the US District Attorney’s Office. Since the original lead had come to the FBI from an undisclosed government source and had indentified the facility as a baby mill with ties to the Juarez Cartel the FBI had carefully approached other local, state and federal agencies to find trusted partners to join the task force. That hand-picked team of investigators and accountants had been pouring through records, files, licenses and lists trying to tie the facility to illegal activity. During the investigation a few things had stood out.

The supposedly non-profit’s stated objective was finding and recruiting healthy pregnant woman that were not interested in terminating their pregnancies or raising a child. Almost all the pregnant women accepted into the program were Caucasian yet the community had only stumbled onto that fact within the last 10 months. An article in an alternative paper had brought the facilities racial bias to the public’s attention and since the article was published a small but vocal group of activists had done their best to complicate Catalina’s life by targeting the facility. But it was apparent to the investigators that Catalina McMillan-Gomez had expertly avoided those calls from various community leaders that had publically implored her to make the facility available to all pregnant women regardless of race or background. She had deftly rebuked those detractors by emphasizing that the non-profit welcomed all young pregnant women regardless of race and that the faith based nature of the facility and very careful screening had led to a high success rate in placing babies in safe and loving homes. She explained that the limited funds she had available needed to be stretched and that many of the African-American and Hispanic applicants failed to meet the acceptance criteria that assured the best possible outcome for the child. She implored the community to provide financial assistance through grants, corporate sponsorship and public donations to insure that the facility could grow and do a better job of assisting young mothers that wished to put their babies up for adoption.

Once investigators confirmed that over 80% of all the young woman that had come through the facility had been white and the remaining 20% had been mostly Hispanic they know they were onto something interesting. Statistically that didn’t come close to representing the area’s demographics. Next was the fact that attorneys that had been vaguely tied to illegal adoptions in the past had a close relationship with the facility. And thirdly the facility had a large amount of money that was paid to dummy off-shore accounts for goods or services that weren’t inside what would be considered normal usage in a facility that helped mothers that put their babies up for adoption.

The tip along with the red flags that had quietly been investigated and some pressure from people that mattered meant that the investigation was given a high priority by the multi-jurisdictional task force assigned to investigate the facility. That intense scrutiny had turned up enough to raid the place and take a closer look at its operations and ask the director some hard questions. The only down side was that they had been informed that the tip had come from an ongoing investigation and that the raid needed to be coordinated with other operations across the state. So the raid team waited while the other pieces of the puzzle were moved into place.

When the original lead had been passed along a specific list of investigators had been cleared to work the case and secrecy was abnormally high. Despite the caveats the people charged with investigating these types of operations were thrilled to be working to shut the place down for good. The cartels had extensive operations in the US including human trafficking, drug smuggling, marijuana growing/distribution/sales, prostitution, counterfeiting goods, money laundering, ID theft and providing false documents to illegal’s. Finding out that the Juarez Cartel had ties to such an immoral operation was no surprise to those that understood the cartels and the links they would go to in their quest for greater profits.

Juarez

Despite having just taken down the cash warehouse less than an hour ago Grimm stood on the sidewalk in front of the house of his last target involved with the Juarez Cartel. As Grimm strolled by he glanced over at the man and his bodyguards as they moved toward the target’s armored luxury sedan. The car had cost the banker a little less than $100,000 and today it would do him no good at all. The banker was flanked by two of Madrago’s severe looking Russian bodyguards. At that precise moment Grinchito alerted Grimm that it was moments from firing. Grimm turned and watched as a bullet dropped both men with a single deadly shot from Grinchito’s suppressed rifle. The banker might not have noticed the suppressed weapon’s noise signature but he heard the men hit the ground and turned to stare in shock at what he saw. He stood absolutely still trying to comprehend what he was seeing as two puddles of blood on the sidewalk merged into one and grew larger.

By then Grimm had walked up to the man with a suppressed pistol extended from his hand. The pistol was pointed at his chest and when the banker saw the gun his eyes quite searching frantically for the direction of the threat and stared at Grimm. “Move and I’ll kill you. We’re just here to steal a little money and then you’ll be released unharmed. We do this quick and you and your family will have time to flee. I have Canadian IDs, Passports and documentation for the four of you and we’ve created a trail of paperwork to support your new identities. Also we’ll allow you to transfer $2,000,000US out of cartel funds and take whatever personal money you can lay your hands on. Is that acceptable to you or would you rather watch your family killed while you watch?” To emphasis his point Grimm fired two shots into each bodyguards head to insure that they were dead. The suppressed pistol along with subsonic 22 ammunition meant that the report was very minimal.

The overweight banker sagged and placed his hands on his knees. Grimm had seen the man’s health records and was hopeful that the stress wouldn’t cause him to have a heart attack. After some panicked breathing the man stood and stared at Grimm. The banker’s face was noticeably paler compared to 2 minutes and ago and he looked like stress had aged him 10 years in a matter of a few minutes. “That is acceptable. How can I be sure you will honor your agreement?”

Grimm looked at the man. “First of all despite your connection to the Juarez Cartel I avoid unnecessary the killing of civilians whenever possible. And the other thing you need to bear in mind that you have no choice. Be glad you’re getting a chance to run instead of being held accountable for your past sins. You’ve worked with the Juarez Cartel for what 15 years?”

The man was past looking drawn and pasty. “17 years and every single day I curse the day they approached me and I said yes. Every single day I wait for a man like you to find me, point a gun at me and threaten to hurt and kill my family. I have my two sons’ in private school and they are good boys with a bright future ahead of them. If you do kill me all I ask is that they be spared and allowed to grow up and fulfill their potential. My wife and I will gladly offer ourselves up so that they may survive.”

Grimm lowered the gun along his leg. “Do as I ask and you and your wife will be spared. And I understand your hopes for your boys but as long as the cartels control the politicians, the Police and the military your sons will have little in the way of opportunity in Mexico. The cartels and especially the Juarez Cartel need to be destroyed now before it gets even worse. Part of that involves you helping us steal enough money from the Juarez Cartel to hurt them. Without money they are vulnerable. Money and violence are the two things that give them power. Without money they will be desperate and will not be able to control as many politicians, officials, or the corrupt cops and soldiers that work for them. If the bribes aren’t paid, then the whole situation changes in Juarez. Everyone will not turn a blind eye to what the cartel is doing unless they are paid. The corrupt have become accustomed to the cash they are paid. They are greedy and will not remain passive accomplices unless they are taken care of.”

“I agree that some will not work with the Juarez Cartel unless they are paid.” The portly banker quickly replied. “But the Juárez Cartel will still control dozens of ruthless sicarios. As long as the sicarios are with the Juarez Cartel the people will live in fear and do as they are told.”

“Maybe this is one of the first steps to breaking the cartel’s back?” Grimm replied. “Or the army of cartel sicarios will break off and start their own cartel and challenge the Juarez Cartel. Or a rival cartel will attempt to takeover Juarez plazas or corridors. Or maybe there will be infighting within the Juarez Cartel itself. Maybe all three will happen at the same time and really make it interesting. If any of those scenarios happen it will mean a dramatic increase in the number of deaths on the streets of Juarez and that is tragic but deaths in Mexico are not my concern. After losing so much money if any of those things happen then it can divert attention from their core business and negatively impact the efficiency of day-to-day operations. The mistrust that can spring up under those conditions will make the cartel much more vulnerable than they are right now. That is a situation we think we can exploit.” Grimm paused. “I don’t know if you heard but Lee has been missing since noon yesterday and we hear that Madrago died in his sleep last night. When you pair that with the fact that Lee’s private party was also blown up by a grenade attack last night it sounds like maybe Lee grabbed as much cartel money as he could and left the life. We’re searching for him but he is a very wealthy man and after plastic surgery the chances of him being found quickly are not good. I don’t know if he ordered the grenade attack on the party or someone else did but within 72 hours Juarez will explode in cartel violence.”

The banker stared at Grimm with a look of defeat on his face. “I was told about Lee and Madrago at 6am this morning. I was told that Lee fled and Madrago died of natural causes. The banker stated in a matter of fact tone. “So, what’s next?” the banker asked.

Grimm felt the banker fully understood his predicament. “You will tell your family that you all must leave today. They will not be allowed to make any calls or send any texts, notes or e-mails. They simply pack a few bags and then everyone leaves. My people will help them stay safe while they pack and you and I take a trip to your office. When we get to your office you will transfer the money to our accounts and we’ll return here in a few hours. When we get back we pack everyone up and head to the airport where you’ll board a plane and jet off into your future. But never forget, we have a very long international reach and some of the best counter-terrorism resources in the world. Betray us at your own risk. If you do as you’re told we will arrange for you to leave Mexico via private jet and be taken to where you want to go. You’ll have money and clean papers so your future is what you make of it. But if you leave here and go back to working for criminals and terrorists you will be killed by us. This is your one chance at a fresh start.”

The banker looked like he had seen his future and a slight smile almost spread across his face. “I want to go someplace where the cartel cannot get to my family and my sons can have a better life.”

Grimm stared at the man. “Ever think what you’d want to do if you hadn’t got into bed with the Juarez Cartel? Everyone in your family speaks good English and the background we built for you say’s all of you are naturalized Canadian citizens and have lived in Toronto since 04. You are in private banking and your wife stayed at home to raise your boys. You can live just about anywhere in the world you want as Canadian ex-pats except in the US, her territories or Canada. The history we built for you shows that your family left Mexico 10 years ago and all of you became Canadian citizens 6 years ago. The documentation we put together will back-up your story if anyone gets overly curious or runs a background check for a new job.”

The overweight banker nodded. “My wife and I have dreamed for years that we might get out of Juarez and start over. You won’t be offended if I don’t share that dream with you?”

Grimm nodded as he slid the suppressed pistol back into it holster. “I understand. Shall we step back inside and speak with your family?”

An El Paso Suburb
Jimmy Keys and 3 STAG team members sat in the stolen SUV waiting for the “go” signal that meant they could raid the money stash house. They had scanned the seemingly normal middle class tract home with a thermal imager and saw that there were three people in it. All three people were in different parts of the house and two residents might have been sleeping.

The phone rang and Paco answered it. “Roger.” Paco ended the call and spoke to the team. “We’re cleared, let’s go.”

Because it was mid-morning the street was completely empty. A majority of workers had already left to make their daily commute to work and the school buses had already picked up the kids and taken them to school. So the men walked around to the house’s side to the back door and Jimmy Keys leaned down and began to do his job. Jimmy Keys had visually inspected the front of the house for a home alarm sign, he had examined or seen pictures of every window looking for alarm stickers or window contacts, scanned two of the doors and some of the windows using high-tech gear, looked over every square inch of the yard searching for cameras and scanned all available frequencies looking for signals that might indicate an alarm system that communicated with a monitoring center or even a smart phone/table. After the hours he had spent examining the site he was 90% sure the house didn’t have a home security system or any operational cameras. The team’s support people back east had searched the databases of every security monitoring system in North America and found no account that was linked to the address. As an added precaution the people back east ran extensive background checks on every single occupant in every house that was in a one block radius of the target house. They delved into the property owner’s and occupants criminal history, financial history, credit history, banking records, school records, phone usage, internet activity, and searched through family trees looking for links to members of the Juarez Cartel or El Paso street gangs with cartel ties. But that and looking at older satellite photos searching for unusual activity didn’t turn up anything that seemed troubling.

If any neighbors were linked to the house the expert investigators and the highly competent tech staff had been unable to make the connections. In his black mask Jimmy Keys leaned down in front of the door and defeated the deadbolt lock and slowly turned the knob. He opened the door an inch and satisfied that the team would be able to enter safely slowly turned the knob back to its original position and stepped back.
The masked STAG men entered quickly and had subdued all the home’s occupants before they knew what was happening. As the three occupants sat on the floor with their hands flex cuffed behind their back one of the STAG people asked them where the money was in Spanish. While that was happening two other men were scanning the walls and floors with imagers that gave them an almost x-ray view of inside the walls and what was behind the floors and ceilings. The safe they had located almost instantly in the homeowner’s bedroom held four stacks of banded $100.00 bills that totaled $40,000. But after a few more minutes of searching two STAG team people were smashing out sheetrock beside the toilet in the hall bathroom. The sheetrock had been expertly repaired after the money had been placed inside the hollow cavity and wallpaper had been hung above a chair rail. When the men had broken through the wall they found three cavities filled to the wall’s top plate with wrapped bundles of currency. All of the bundles were approximately 3 inches thick and the men quickly stuffed the wrapped bundles into duffle bags they had brought with them.

Before the first cavity was empty they realized they had more money than would fit into the duffels they had brought. “Need two more bags main hall bathroom ASAP.”

Jimmy Keys heard the call over his headset and lifted up his mask and with his head turned to the ground he walked quickly to their vehicle and grabbed 4 more duffels from the backseat. He entered the house and went to the bathroom to deliver the bags. Instead of staring at the money or making any comments he turned and headed back out to his observation location near the home’s front door. There would be time to speculate about the money later, right now he had a job to do.

The phone in Jimmy Keys pocket vibrated just as walked out the front door and he quickly answered it. “Lock.”

We have 4 unidentified armed men heading your way. They came out of the back of an apartment building three blocks away and are in a green late model GM mid-sized SUV. They’re stuck behind a trash truck and a police cruiser is three cars in front of them. We saw AKs so you might want to wrap it up and get out of there.”

Jimmy Keys swallowed and spoke over his communication system. “Four armed hostiles inbound. ETA is less than 60 seconds.”

Over the headset the inside team responded. “Done, we’re coming out in 30 seconds. Back the vehicle into the drive facing toward the street.” This time Jimmy Keys ran to the team’s vehicle without raising his mask and quickly backed it up until he was a few feet from the garage door.

15 seconds later the rest of the team threw the heavy duffle bags loaded with money into the back of the SUV and piled in.

“Drive it like you stole it.” Paco yelled to Jimmy Keys at the wheel of the SUV.

Jimmy Keys knew no other Police vehicles were in the area so he smashed the gas pedal to the floor and rocketed out of the driveway and onto the street quickly accelerating to 55 MPH on the quiet nearly empty residential streets. He slowed at the first Stop sign two blocks later and as agreed to beforehand braked to a more sedate 30mph and made the next left heading for the nearest main road that would get them heading back toward downtown. They passed the van that held the two men that would have deployed stop sticks and laid down covering fire had it been needed and the van quickly fell in behind them. The two vehicles split up 4 miles later and began their efforts to insure that they weren’t being followed. By then the GPS trackers and dye packs in the money had all been neutralized and placed in a lead lined blast can the size of a large cooler. As far as the men in the SUV knew they were clean of any electronic emissions that would allow them to be tracked. As an added precaution the money and the assault team would transfer to an older armored car marked with a security companies’ logo as soon as they were clear. That armored car would drive pre-determined routes until the support team in the van was entirely satisfied that they weren’t being tracked. At that point the money would be loaded onto the STAG helicopter and taken to a remote branch of a bank that was flexible when it came to required reporting and ID.


Juarez-

Paco Javos set the phone down and took a deep breath. His boss had just called to tell him that their family had just lost 30 members in Juarez and another 50 in El Paso in the last 12 hours. That meant that people were being shifted around so that the business could go on as normal. He had been smuggling exotic animals for the Cartel and running a legitimate pet wholesaling business in El Paso for 5 years. While not as profitable as running people and drugs across the border it wasn’t a business that most considered to be a cartel related business and he had never had any problem with the law. A few animal rights groups had tried repeatedly to send people into his organization to videotape the warehouse and post the pictures on the internet. But he only hired Mexicans that understood that the cartel controlled the business and crossing them would mean death. As he sat back down in his office he contemplated what his next move would be.

The man that Paco had brought from Madagascar and was responsible for the problems along the border was hiding out in a small house outside Juarez. From what he had told Paco the man had been a good student in his homeland and was able to attend school in the US on a scholarship before moving on to complete 2 years training to be an engineer. After his second year in engineering school his handlers recalled him to the Middle East prior to 9-11. Paco called him Guy and the bomb maker had grown up poor in Yemen. Extensive plastic surgery in South America had given his face Hispanic characteristics and the man spoke very good Spanish.

Near the El Paso Airport
Lep and Gracie passed through the door and Doc stood there. “Good to see you boys. I need you to strip down and take a shower using the products on the counter. Instruction cards are taped beside each product. Please follow the instructions exactly and put on the robes when you’re done. The clothes you wore in and the towels go in the red bag and will be burned so check the pockets make sure you didn’t leave anything you need in them. I have an exam to finish up in the other room and should be ready by the time you finish. Gracie, keep the bandage on your wound and I’ll get you fixed up when I do your exam. Any questions?”

Both men nodded that they understood what they needed to do and Lep nodded at Gracie who stepped into the bathroom to take his shower.

Since living in close confines increased the likelihood of contracting and spreading things like lice, bedbugs, pinworms, meningitis and ring worms the Doc wanted to exam everyone to ensure they were healthy. So now that this phase of the operation was completed the people in STAG and the surveillance team would be screened for those maladies and more to insure they were in the best possible health before returning to a wait and see mode inside the US. So far the worst thing the extensive exams and the blood work had shown was that Grimm was suffering from an upper respiratory infection and Gracie had sustained a non-life threatening gunshot wound. Doc had prescribed oral steroids, anti-biotics, plenty of fluids and rest for Grimm. If need be Grimm could still do his job but by treating the problem and giving his body the opportunity to heal he was that much closer to returning to full operational status. From what Doc had been told Gracie’s wound was fairly minor and should be easily treated.

Doc returned to the room next door where Close sat on a rented exam table wearing a robe and leafing through a supermarket tabloid magazine. Without make-up Doc could detect the bags under her eyes and the overall fatigue that she was experiencing. She just like others he examined was tired and in much need of some rest and relaxation. The chore of interfering with the Juarez Cartel’s operation was extremely stressful. Knowing that a mistake or getting caught could subject you to torture and death was always in their mind and everyone was excited that they might be done and able to take a much needed break. “Your blood work should be back by tomorrow morning. I’ll call if it shows anything we need to be concerned about. Anything else you want to talk about?”

Close smiled as she should to get dressed. “I’m good Doc. You have any interesting vacation ideas? I was thinking someplace warm where drinks can be delivered to my cabana and sunburn and dehydration are my biggest concerns?”

The Doc smiled at her question. If the STAG team was cleared then each member would be provided a set of forged documents and encouraged to take a few weeks off to rest and relax before returning for additional training and their next mission. “I hear Ibiza is great this time of year. Personally I’m not a big fan of electronic music but I know you are and I have the name of a restaurant there that will knock your socks off.”

Grimm already nixed Ibiza. He told me that there were too many German tourists there for his taste. He told me that every time he hears a German tourist he thinks about German beer. The week after he got home from Afghanistan he and a friend headed to Vegas and he got so drunk on German beer he was hung over for three days. Grimm admitted to the fact he still drank a few beers, but not German beer. He claimed he’d never drink German beer again.

Close and the Doc chatted for a few more minutes and after Doc went back into the other room Close got dressed and returned to the room she was sharing with Grimm. As soon as the door was closed to their room she again shed her clothes and climbed into bed.

Grimm smiled as he watched Close undress and slip into the king sized bed with nothing on except a smile.

[alangator]

Fuller
Part 62

Near the El Paso Airport late afternoon

Headline Reads-
45 Suspected Juarez Cartel Members Arrested in Pre-dawn Raids Across El Paso and Surrounding Suburbs.

Grimm sat in the hotel near the airport reading the on-line edition of the local newspaper and wondered how many arrests came from the intelligence that he and his team had acquired through the facility in Belize. With that many arrests the cartel was going to suffer through a time of infighting and the resulting realignment. They were also going to be exceptionally pissed and want to find out who was responsible for their cartel be partially dismantled. Grimm scanned the article while he waited for his intelligence contact to call with the actual number of arrests made and the final count on the volume of drugs and cash seized. Seized money was a component of what infuriated the Cartels about the intervention by US authorities and that number could be interesting.

The phone rang and Grimm answered it in his best fake Mexican accent. “You got Chico.” He paused for a second and then gave his counter-sign. “That you baby?” the call was deemed uncompromised by the Intel people and they began giving him the numbers. Grimm listened and smiled inside where it counts. The real numbers of arrests was 54 cartel members in the US but included 25 men and women from El Paso street gangs affiliated with the Juarez Cartel. The arrests had taken place mostly in the El Paso area but extended to parts of southern Texas. 6 suspects had been killed and 12 injured while resisting or evading arrest. Two agents from the task force sustained minor injuries and would return to duty within 30 days. Grimm was relieved that no one had been seriously injured or killed during the roundup.

The drug seizure was modest at only 1147 pounds of marijuana, 112 pounds of cocaine and 75 pounds of meth. But the truly staggering numbers was in the amount of cash seized which was at $7,000,000 and climbing. His contact was told that the cash would likely climb above the $10,000,000 mark. The various US authorities had also issued arrest warrants for another 46 people with an almost even split between Mexican Nations and US citizens.

Grimm finished the call. “Thanks for the heads up and keeping us in the loop.” He then hung up the phone and cracked another smile. “Close I was just told that they made over 50 arrests with no serious injuries to Law Enforcement. They also seized almost 1150 pounds of weed and almost 200 pounds of coke and meth. But the shocking number is that they think they seized over 10 million in cash. Must have found a cash stash house we missed. They had 6 cartel KIAs and 12 with various injuries.” He stopped and watched as Close smiled and lifted her head from the pillow.

She sat up in bed exposing her breasts to the hotel room’s chilly air. “Sounds like they did well. Think our guy is going to change his movements at all or assume he’s safe?”

Grimm rolled onto the bed and stopped beside her. “Intel says that so far they are thinking that he’ll figure he’s safe where he is. He might add some security guys but we’ll figure a way to get to him, we always do. You mentioned that you had some ideas about catching him.”

Close winked at Grimm. People that had worked with Close would understand what that mischievous wink meant. Close had an idea that might make things interesting. “Storm the place and you’re fighting an uphill battle that you’ll lose. If you can lure the guy outside the gates then you might be able to take him alive. Once you have him you can level the rest of the place. Use the micro drones to assure that he’s there before you put your plan into action?”

Grimm considered the suggestion and thought it might be the way to go. In a perfect world they extracted the bad guy and none of the good guys would be injured or killed. But if they did it conventionally that wasn’t likely. He considered the possibility then remembered that Close had told him that the target spent a few hours in the courtyard every day. If he could show up when he was in the courtyard maybe his defenses would be down. “I like that idea. Since we’re pretty much done in Juarez and ready to plan a romantic vacation the last thing we need is for me to get hurt or killed. I’ll call Dark Voice and see if he likes the idea. You hungry? Because I could eat.”

Close grabbed the room service menu off the nightstand and opened it. “Steak and eggs again?”

Grimm looked up as he dialed Dark Voice’s number. “Maybe add an order or two of hash browns with plenty of ketchup and a carafe of orange juice.”

While Close ordered the food Grimm waited for D.V. to answer.

Austin Texas

Dark Voice listened with interest to the plan Grimm had outlined and thought it might have potential. The problem would be getting Grimm approved to go on a mission run by US Special Operations Command(USSOCOM) assets on foreign soil. Then there was the problem of concealing Grimm’s true identity from the USSOCOM and the White House. Dark Voice had heard a few hours ago that they were pretty sure that they would capture or kill the bomb maker in Juarez before the end of the day. The Intel had been passed to the Special Operations Command yesterday by Dark Voice. And while handing the prime INTEL to his SPECOPS liaison might gain him some brownie points getting a sitting US President to authorize military action on foreign soil from INTEL gathered by a covert group he’d never heard of and didn’t authorize was going to be tricky to say the least. “I like the plan but I don’t know if we can get any support for it. Are you sure we don’t pass the INTEL along and let CIA or someone else take care of it.”

Grimm understood Dark Voices concerns. “If we want him alive we think I’m the best bait there is. The man is a consummate professional and we need to get him out from behind those walls. You sent anyone else it’s a firefight and we lose the HVT and maybe some of our guys. He said something to me that makes me think he’ll step out to talk to me. I think he sees me as being the exact same type of warrior as he is. I could be wrong but if I’m right it could be a very good win for us.”

Dark Voice considered the plan and knew who he needed to call. “Let me start working the phone and see what I can figure out. It’s a huge ask but I have two people that might be useful to us. You willing to risk getting ID’d?”

“My shots for international travel are up to date and it seems a waste not to travel after getting them all done. If they ID me they ID me. Just do a good job screening the aircrews, support team and the shooters on the ground. Make sure we’ve never crossed paths and I’ll be fine.”

“Doc said you have a cold. You mission capable?” Dark Voice asked.

“It’s a sinus infection and I don’t plan on doing much fighting so I’ll be OK.”

50 yards south of the US/Mexico Border in Juarez (5pm)

The two people tracking STAG got into the taxi at the border crossing on the Juarez side and told the driver in very good Spanish their destination. They didn’t know the people they sought were called STAG and even if they did they wouldn’t have recognized the acronym. The couple was in their mid-to-late twenties and looked more like the types of tourists that vacationed along the Riviera Maya tourist corridor or in Acapulco. They both wore backpacks and neither spoke during their ride.
The woman was the team leader and stood 5 feet 10 inches tall. Her cute face was framed by short dark brown hair and luminous brown eyes. The man was all of 6 2’ and had the upper body of a world class swimmer. His dark blonde hair had been trimmed short with clippers in a fashionable style and the top had been scissor cut to hide the 3 cow licks that had limited his hair choices since childhood. A strong chin and sparkling blue eyes gave the man a presence that made serious undercover work impossible. The couple should have been just too noticeable to work undercover and yet they were one of the best teams at what they did. Generally they were assigned together as a team to find people in the third world that needed to be found. Between them they spoke 5 languages and had the basics in another 4 languages. Both were highly qualified in unarmed combat and had some of the best marksmanship scores of active field agents in the whole US Intelligence system.
They were the first team of finding people and completing missions. Strangely enough on this mission the job was to find and track. No spy stuff. No killing, kidnapping, finding assets, stealing data or locating materials they were merely observers on this mission. Their mission was to just get a lens on their subject or subject’s and record images. After that they would report their position and await further instructions. To them the job seemed somehow off but they would do as they were told, that was one of the many reasons they were so effective.

When they had spoken to the driver they had asked him to take them to an upscale shopping district where a super computer had found activity that matched pre-determined patterns that might indicate rendition activity. A contact in the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency outside St. Louis had programmed a super computer and they had numerous leads they would follow up on. Computer analysis of all of Juarez had determined that the people they were searching for had all assembled in that area and they were determined to do what it took to obtain additional leads on their targets whereabouts if indeed these were the people they were assigned to find.

The drive across the chaos of Juarez took almost an hour and the dirty and dented taxi pulled up in the middle of the block they had requested. They paid the driver, threw the bags over their backs and began the process of blending into the area. With their good looks and confidence they seemed to be two more shoppers enjoying the afternoon window shopping and looking for a good cup of coffee or a large margarita. They found a coffee shop with Wi-Fi and unloaded their laptops from their backpacks, ordered coffee and began their search. It wasn’t long before they found Wi-Fi links to the cameras in the area and probed them until they gained access to their systems.

And while they managed to get into the various systems all the data for their time window was corrupted or missing. It didn’t take them long to determine that they were likely in the right spot and were searching the right time. Additional efforts resulted in them being able to identify the group’s targets and despite the mischief that had been done inside every Wi-Fi enabled camera system in the area they were able to pull crisp video of the man that had been targeted. After that it was simply a matter of running the images through an enhanced facial recognition program that quickly identified the rendition team’s target.

The man continued pounding the keys and muttering under his breath in Spanish as his partner stood at the counter and paid for their refills and chose snacks for later. Once they were given an assignment they ran hard until their mission was done and they seldom stopped to eat so grabbing a few snacks was always a good idea. Within minutes they had learned the man’s name and neither was surprised that he was a high ranking member of the Juarez Cartel. A few calls on the encrypted phones and some e-mails and their support personnel were on the trail of the target. Satisfied that they had learned everything this location could teach them they packed up and hailed another cab to take them to their next location.

It would be 30 minutes until they were informed that the man that had might have been the target of the rendition team had disappeared 2 days ago. They also learned that isolated chatter on cell phones and rumors from other Cartel members indicated that the man was thought to have been kidnapped and large amounts of cartel money had also been lost around the same time. They also learned that the man that ran the Juarez Cartel Intelligence and Counter-Intelligence efforts was ex-KGB guy named Madrago and that Madrago had died in his sleep two nights ago.

It was unusual for two such dramatic events to occur within such a short time period and that told them that outside forces had a hand in what had happened. Now those outside forces could have been their targets or it could have been cartel infighting. When it came down to it even high ranking cartel members were not immune from the violence that plagued their chosen profession. But the two operatives were betting that the US had funded the recent chaos in some form or another.

Outside Juarez

Just before the sun faded from the sky Paco Javos pulled up to house outside Juarez and got out of his truck. The red ¾ ton crew cab with low key custom wheels and $2000.00 worth of audio equipment jammed into the cab was one his favorite places to spend time. So instead of calling and risk the possibility of the call being intercepted or flagged by the NSA he decided to make the short trip and talk to Guy face to face. As soon as his feet hit the ground he spun around and looked in every direction at once trying to make sure no one was in the area and that he was alone. Paco walked quickly to the house and jammed the key into the lock before quickly turning it and stepping inside the small house.

The house was dead silent so Paco called out to Guy and after not hearing a reply walked through the house. Well if Guy wasn’t in the house he had to be in the 10x10 meter metal building on the back of the property working on something. Paco exited the house through the back door and saw the padlock was off the metal building’s door. He stepped inside the metal building and was grabbed by gloved hand. An arm was around his neck making it hard for him to breath and almost instantly he felt a pinch in his neck. Through blurred vision he saw Guy taped to an office chair. That was last thing he would see for the next 24 hours.

The Special Forces guy lying beside the outside wall of the building in his ghillie suit waited to hear the magic words that would allow him to stand for the first time in 19 hours.

“HVT ID confirmed. All HVTs secure. 5 minutes for final SSE and exfil in 15.”

The sniper rolled over and stretched out his legs and slowly began moving them around to get the blood flowing again. Lying on the ground for almost a full day was tough on a body even one of such a seasoned professional. In deference to his plight the exfil would not take place for another 15 minutes while he worked all the kinks out. After a few minutes he stood on wobbly legs and moved around the building’s back corner. He walked 15 yards before dropped his pants and reliving himself. After he was done he took his knife and carved out a small hole under a bush and scrapped the feces and the baby wipes into the hole. He covered the hole back up and stepped on the area around it to disguise what it was. Then he turned to walk back to the metal building.

“Can I change now?” He asked over his communications unit.
Negative. We need another 15 minutes for SSE and to take the samples they need to confirm this is the right guy.”

Listening in the man in charge of the raid chimed in on the communications network. “Volcano I need the sensitive site exploitation to be fully complete. The lab nerds need every bit of Intel and material samples you can get so don’t rush it. We clear?”

“I understand that sir. We’ll take our time here. We have 200 kits for evidence collection and will use every one of them as directed in addition to gathering all electronic devises, bomb making materials and the 10 soil samples that were requested. Do you want the HVT’s truck brought over the border?”

“Roger that, over.” The Colonel replied.

The building had already been swept for explosive devises by the EOD member of the team and he had deemed it fairly safe. His exact words were “I don’t see any IEDs but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any here. Oh, and I smell homemade explosives. If we’re lucky they’re not still in here.” With cotton swabs the men inside the metal building took samples of every flat surface and every four square feet on the ground and on the walls. They took samples of dirt, dust and anything that looked like it could be used to make bombs. They bagged the one laptop they found and searched for hidden caches of anything that might be useful. The bomb making supplies which consisted of batteries, circuit boards, wires, remote controls, receivers, solder, nails, zip ties, screws and tools were all collected and placed in paper bags and then placed in canvass bags to protect them on their long journey. One man even bagged a dead mouse carcass and sealed it into a small plastic container. If the mouse had been here when the explosives were the lab might be able to extract trace amounts of the compound from the mouse’s carcass and determine when the mouse had been exposed to the bomb materials.

A few minutes later a handler and an explosives sniffing dog entered the property from the back side of the property. Before the dog reached the metal building he alerted next to a tire lying on the ground. The dog handler waved a metal detector over the ground and received a tone that meant something interesting might be underneath the tire.

The EOD tech carefully examined the area and after15 minutes working into the soil wearing NVGs he was able to remove the top of a piece of plywood that covered a section of 48 inch culvert placed vertically. The culvert held four 5 gallon jerry cans two metal paint cans that appeared almost full. He carefully removed the lids and the smell of acetone in one and peroxide in the other told the team that they and found the person they were likely looking for. Acetone and peroxide could be used to make a homemade explosive and no sane person stored these items in a backyard.

When the working dog entered the metal building he alerted to an area of the gravel floor. Again the EOD guy carefully removed gravel until he found a box of det. Cord, another component of bomb making. With any luck the det. cord could be tracked back to a source that might help the investigation.

After an hour the team leader was satisfied that they had found everything worth finding and the power was turned off to the building. Then a man wearing a hazmat suit in desert tan with a respirator stepped into the building and liberally sprayed the 4 gallons of bleach from his backpack sprayer onto every surface in the building. After the sprayer ran dry he exited the building tore off the Tyvek Hazmat suit and put it and the sprayer into a super heavy duty construction bag.

10 minutes later the team was in the back of a van and heading to their exfil point. Everything they had been wearing now sat in garbage bags piled in the back of the van and they had changed into street clothes. The sniper looked over at the bag that he had deposited his ghillie suit in. He was upset that the suit he had been using for over a year would end up being burned to destroy all evidence of its wearer’s identity. 60 minutes later the team was flying over the US/Mexico border having completed their mission.

[sssarawolf]

Thank you for all your hard work.

[alangator]

Fuller
Part 63
Algeria 72 Hours later

Grimm glanced briefly at the beautiful Mediterranean coast line and the small picturesque village a half kilometer away as he turned up the rough dirt path leading to the compound. The sun had disappeared from the sky and the last rays of her magnificent light were receding. In the shadowy light Grimm could see the upper floor of the colonial style two story main building that stood at the top of the small rise. The building and the other structures in the compound were surrounded by sturdy stone and mud walls 10 feet high. Grimm had learned that the compound sat on the site of an ancient fort constructed by the Ottoman Turks that was destroyed by an earthquake in 1716. The extensive damage at the fort made rebuilding on the same site impractical so a smaller fort was rebuilt on the other side of the small harbor to protect the small village. Algeria and the others states of the Barbary Coast had long engaged in piracy against European and American shipping in the Mediterranean so from time to time the Europeans would sent expeditions to punish them for their piratical ways. The fort had been built to defend against such attacks. The second and smaller fort was destroyed during the invasion of Algeria by France in 1830 and never repaired or rebuilt. Over 120 years ago an order of the Catholic Church resurrected the site of the first fort as a hospital to treat Algerians of French or European decent. Hundreds of thousands of Europeans had immigrated to Algeria after the French gained control of Algeria in the 1830s. To support the spiritual needs of their followers in Colonial Algeria the Catholic Church sent people to pursue various church goals.

In 50 or so years after the hospital had been built thousands of people had been helped by the men and woman dedicated to caring for the sick, sickly and dying. But, during World War II the hospital had been taken over by the Nazis. 50 or so men that oversaw the small village and guarded the small harbor had been garrisoned on the grounds of the hospital. After the success of Operation Torch the Allie’s invasion of northern Africa the Germans were forced to quickly abandon the hospital. The Germans left stacks of materials that were quickly looted by the local population as compensation for the occupation of their small community. Soon afterwards the Germans were replaced briefly with Allie forces heading east toward Tunisia. In the brief time Allied forces were in the area they heard stories of beatings, torture and executions committed by the Nazis from church workers and residents of the nearby village. When word of what had happened at the site during the war reached the Vatican it was decided to not re-open the facility.

Various people and groups had squatted in the compound from time to time but essentially until the late 90’s the property sat empty. At that time a program that attempted to spread goodwill in the Middle East and in Northern Africa by the Catholic Church handed control of the property to a group wanting to open up a school for young boys. After the compound was turned over it had undergone a major transformation and was now being used as a school to teach impoverished Muslim boys from across Algeria and neighboring North African countries. When renovation of the property began crosses, bibles and other forgotten religious articles were removed from the buildings and destroyed. The dining hall now served boys and men carrying Qurans. The building that once housed faithful Priests and Nuns that had committed their lives to the church was now converted to dormitories and housed the school’s Muslim students and the school’s staff.

The vast US Intelligence community had never heard of any concerns that the school had any anti-American viewpoints, preached anything against the US or supported extremist activity. In fact an extensive search failed to turn up any information about the school. With all the hoopla surrounding the fear of radical Madrassas and the students educated there how the school was overlooked was anybody’s guess. But keeping an eye on 1.5 Billion Muslims spread across virtually every nation in the world wasn’t easy. For over a decade the US Intelligence had been focused on every corner of the world searching for those that could and would try to bring harm to the US. But in the pell-mell attempt to ramp up for the emerging threat of fundamentalist Islam and in subsequent years it was inevitable that pockets of dangerous people or groups would be overlooked. The school on the hill in Algeria was one such example.

Grimm walked up the slight hill to the walled compound’s front gate and kicked one of the doors with the heel of his boot. The dense sun bleached wood of the gate looked as if it had adorned the front of the compound for 100 years and was pocked with 10 or 15 bullet strikes that were unable to penetrate the thick wooden door. At some point the edges of the gate had been reinforced with six inch wide 3/8 inch steel that had been painted black. The gate doors Grimm stood at were big enough to drive a large truck through and were split in the middle. On one side a small fist sized door could be opened to allow those inside to see and talk to those outside the walls seeking entry.

Grimm knew that their HVT was in the courtyard at this very moment and hoped that he would get lucky and the HVT would come to the gate without thinking about it too much. If the HVT put too much thought into what he was doing then American soldiers could be seriously injured or killed. Grimm could hear someone in the courtyard headed toward the door. The sound of sandals walking across stone grew closer.

The small window opened up and the face of a young boy appeared.

“As-salamu alaykum.” Grimm greeted the boy.

“Wa alaykumu s-salam.” The boy replied to Grimm’s greeting.

“I’m Grimm, please tell Assad I am here to see him.” Grimm said assuming that the boy had some English.

The window closed and Grimm heard the boy head back into the expansive compound. So he walked down the hill 40 yards to a large rock beside the path and sat facing the wooden door. Grimm watched and so far hadn’t seen any movement along the wall or in any of the 4 windows that faced the road. Over his earpiece he was told that the windows were empty. The pistol inside his waistband was a stark reminder of the danger of this mission.

After a few minutes Grimm heard the door being opened and King stepped through it and the door was closed immediately. Even from 40 yards away Grimm could hear the sound of steel on steel as the gate was secured.

King walked toward him wearing traditional robes with an AK-47 slung over his back. “Ah Grimm. Why do I feel that you and I are destined to die here today?”

“King that is a decision you will make not I. I’ve made peace with that as I am sure you have. So what happens next is totally up to you.”

King smiled as he stopped 15 yards away from Grimm. “What gave me away?”

“You used a French word atelier to Lep. The word stuck in his mind and my people ran possibilities of everything close and ended up with a French word for workshop. I knew you considered yourself an artisan and not an assassin and it made sense that you might have apprentices that studied under you. We never tied you to any work that went against the US or her allies’ interests but if you had a network of people it was possible we wouldn’t see any connections. The people that track people told me that you have the best tradecraft of anyone they’ve ever tracked. They lost you 14 times between the time you left Juarez and the time you pulled up here. After you got here the sensors showed us what you were doing and the true size of your facility. It’s very impressive. I was told that the compound was originally built by the Ottoman Turks as a fort and that after the fort was destroyed by an earthquake that the Catholic Church built a hospital here?”

“This site has seen the rise and fall of both the Turks and France’s colonial aspirations in Africa. When the French ruled this Muslim country they turned our places of worship into hospitals, schools, places to be used by the military and even a catholic church. Behind the French invaders was an army of Catholic Priests preaching their heresy. The Catholic Church originally built a hospital on the grounds to care for French and other Europeans while locals died for lack of healthcare and enough to eat. During World War II the Germans took over the grounds and the hospital was never re-opened.” King paused and glanced around the sky around them. “Grimm I have to say that you and your people are very tenacious. Let me ask you this? The day after I arrived at your safe house the taste of the root beer was slightly different. I thought it was because it was small batch but you tagged me using it didn’t you?”

Grimm nodded. “Yes we did. And I’ll say getting paid by us to remove people you needed removed to advance your agenda was masterful. Every time that happened that meant that your people were working their way up the food chain getting closer to being in charge. Did you plan on taking over all the major terrorist networks?”

King nodded. “Just the important ones. Our cause is full of self-important men that have obtained their position due to political, religious or family connections. They needed to see the value of what highly trained and properly led men can accomplish.” King paused. “Now it is just you and I. We should finish this.”

Grimm nodded and stood up keeping his hands away from his side.

High above the compound in the quickly fading light an AC-130 gunship fired its 105mm cannon into the courtyard near the front gate. The wall absorbed most the shock wave and stone rained down on King from the blast.

King hadn’t heard the big gun’s report but after seeing Grimm dive to the ground he followed his example before the shell exploded behind him.

Grimm had timed the impact and was moving two seconds before the large shell impacted in the courtyard. He dove behind the rock he had been sitting on as bullets whizzed above his head and struck the rock that protected him. Two SPECOPS snipers targeted King from 100 yards away. One sniper connected with a prototype stun round and the other hit him below the waist with a rubber bullet meant to hurt but not kill King. Both snipers fired 3 more rounds as the gunship put down a barrage of 40 mm cannon fire to pacify the compound’s residents and drive them away from the main building. The gunship avoided firing into the main buildings in the hope that there was a chance of culling a few additional survivors from the compound and gathering useful INTEL.

From the east two Blackhawks traveling at over 130 miles an hour entered the Battlespace and moved quickly toward the front courtyard of the compound. In the back of the Blackhawks highly trained SPECOPS soldiers waited to fast rope into the compound to begin mopping up. Their goals were to facilitate King’s removal, bag a few additional prisoners and do a SSE (Sensitive Site Exploitation) sweep. Every prisoner was another mind to be broken and with that the chances of dismantling King’s network increased proportionately. Grimm was proud that STAG had helped uncover King’s true purpose. But he was relieved that Special Operations soldiers were leading this raid and that the CIA would whisk any survivors off to their Black Sites. There, men with the stomach for the tough stuff would wring valuable INTEL about King’s network from any survivors.

As the Blackhawks neared Grimm could hear the buzz from the mini-guns as they raked the courtyard with deadly fire. From the ground sporadic shooting was met with the explosions from the AC-130’s 40mm canons being used to push the fighters away from the main building where all the good stuff was thought to be.

Grimm had been told by a spotter that King lay unmoving as the Blackhawks settled above the front courtyard and men quickly fast roped to the ground and formed a defensive perimeter. Once all the men were on the ground the team would follow their assignments to gain entry to the main building in the search for men and INTEL that might be useful.

Grimm peeked over the rock and saw that King was now rolling around trying to move. King’s AK was laying several feet from him. Grimm quickly stood and sighted down his pistol at King as he moved toward the man on the ground. Grimm spoke over his bone conduction headset. “Lights out.”

With that command a sniper fired a specialized round into King’s butt. The drugs were meant to incapacitate King and allow him to be captured before he could hurt anyone or kill himself.

Epilogue

The Field’s, the Smith family along with Fuller and his people ended up using the shelter located on the Field’s property 3 years later. One of the cartels had smuggled 3 small nuclear devises derived from Pakistani stocks into the US for a group of fundamental terrorists. US Intelligence learned of the plot and a courageous or foolish President addressed the nation and told them what the Government knew and that everything possible was being down to insure the safety of the country. Fuller and his people descending on the Field’s property within 14 hours of the President’s address and settled into the shelter as the United States was scoured for the improvised devises. 48 hours after the President’s speech the devises were located heading north up I-95 and the cell transporting the devise was apprehended without incident. They never cooperated with authorities but 7 more members tied to the attempted terrorism were quickly arrested in connection with the incident. The total shelter stay length for Fuller and his people was 4 days and everyone from Texas was grateful that the tragedy was averted and they were able to return home. They were impressed with the extensive preparations at the shelter on the Field’s property and many pre-paid their yearly fees for a few years in advance when they returned to Texas.

Tim and Becky Fields and their children did what families do. Their lives were a constant rotation of work, school, sports, music lessons and other family activities Tim and Becky felt might someday be useful like camping and Cub and then Boy Scouts. The Field’s children were good students and better than average athletes. Because the children were so likable the Field’s house was often full of their children’s friends. A few years after the nuke scare Tim found a great job that allowed him to work from home almost every and gave him a front row seat as his children grew up. Tim ran and was elected to the local school board member and in his spare time began to restore a 1969 Olds 442. With the family’s shelter done prepping was much less chaotic for him and he found immersing himself in his car’s restoration relaxed him. Becky returned to school and gained her certification to become a teacher. She found Middle School science to be a perfect outlet for her love of certain scientific pursuits like optics, gardening and solar energy. Tim and Becky remained close to Cole and Rita Smith and the families’ shared a meal at least once a month.

Fuller’s office complex continued to prosper as more businesses saw the benefit of locating underground and the facility boasted 100% occupancy. Once the initial goal of 100% was achieved Fuller was able to take his girlfriend Mary to Tuscany for three weeks during the peak season. The gun store and shooting range was a success and catered to a more experienced shooting enthusiast. Fuller also acquired another vintage Mustang. This time he had found a 1968 Mustang Fastback that had hidden in the back of someone’s garage in Texas for the last 30 years. While the car would need to be fully restored it was an excellent candidate due to its lack of rust and overall good condition. A month later Fuller bought a reproduction Shelby Cobra with a healthy 427 CID engine mated to a beefed up 4 speed transmission. He had long dreamed of owning an original Shelby Cobra but the astronomical prices original Shelby Cobra’s demanded in the collector market put that elusive goal out of reach. But the first time he took the Cobra to a cruise night his disappointment quickly faded. Onlookers stood around his car and despite knowing it was a reproduction were mesmerized by the car’s power, beauty and elegance. Later that night he pushed the gas pedal to the floor for the very first time and was shocked at the incredible acceleration the Cobra was capable of. Restoring his 68 Mustang Fastback would take 10’s of thousands of dollars and take a year or more but Fuller was content with the wait. He could drive the Cobra and in his book that made the wait for his Mustang tolerable. Fuller eventually married Mary and they found a place with some acreage located almost exactly between Mary’s interests in Lexington MO. and Fuller’s underground complex. That home was where they raised their twins Jacob and Marci.

Mongo remained his immensely likeable self and continued to run the security team at Fuller’s underground complex. He also loved guns and oversaw the operation of the new gun store and firing range, a facility that gained positive reviews from industry professionals. A few years down the road he met a beautiful woman online. Like Mongo she was of Pacific Island decent and after being married they proceeded to have 5 children. Just like Fuller they made the Kansas City area their home and found a nice ranch in a good neighborhood with excellent schools. Mongo’s aunt in Hawaii died a few years after the nuclear bomb scare but his 2nd cousin moved into his aunt’s house so Mongo was often still able to brew coffee from beans grown on his family’s ancestral land.

Cole and Rita Smith continued to operate their cement plant. And while they enjoyed their work their true passion was for their children and their grandchildren. The year before the nuke scare Cole and Rita Smith and their family enjoyed a 7 day cruise to the Bahamas. During the nuke scare Cole and Rita Smith and their extended family were enjoying a family vacation at Disney World in Florida. Both Smith’s found it almost ironic that the 5 days that they were away from home that year was during the most serious terrorism crisis since 9-11. Since Cole and Rita had grown up in the area they were a big help to Tim as he restored his old Olds 442. Between the two lifelong area residents they knew just about everyone that was in the automotive business. In fact Tim’s passion for his old car led to Cole and Rita Smith to buying and restoring an old fire truck. After the truck was restored they took it to shows in the area and loved watching kids and their parents ogle over the unique truck. The fire truck was so well done that a production company rented it for a movie shot in St. Louis. Cole and Rita were busy so one of their sons accompanied the truck on its journey to St. Louis and oversaw its use. Cole and Rita’s social networking home page was their fire truck flanked by three of the movie’s A-list celebrities.

Grimm and Close managed to make their relationship work despite their past and ended up married and living on the Lake of the Ozarks. They also maintained a small property in Idaho as a worst case scenario bug-out location. Close’s ex-husband lived on the Idaho property and oversaw its care. Both Grimm and Close worked with the STAG program for another year until political pressure from Washington and gathering interest from US Intelligence made continuing the program too dangerous. They and the other STAG team members had managed to disrupt two other Mexican Cartels. By the time STAG left both cartels experienced massive upheavals that adversely affected the organizations effectiveness and fractured the cartel’s members into untrusting groups that blaming one another for what had happened. That angst quickly led to complicated and costly power struggles that claimed many lives both cartel and civilian. Grimm always wondered how many innocents were hurt in the process but there was no way to predict or even tally how many civilians were hurt or killed by the infighting. But fighting the cartels and spreading chaos throughout their organizations was STAG’s number 1 mandate. Grimm viewed the civilian deaths as collateral damage well beyond his influence. After Grimm and Close left STAG and were married they opened up a fitness center near their home in the Ozarks and occasional did consulting work for a few select clients that came highly recommended from those that they trusted. After leaving STAG and getting married to Grimm Close became pregnant and gave birth to a healthy set of twins. One boy and one girl was what the couple had always talked about and they ended up with both on the first try. Both warriors instantly adjusted to life as parents and lived for their children. Despite the tragedy, hardship and loss they had endured as soldiers the joy of parenthood pushed those experiences to the back of their minds and both were happier than they had been in years.

Kitty the CIA or other agent embedded in Lee’s compound as a big cat trainer completed one more undercover assignment for his agency and left to work in the private sector. With experience in the field as an undercover operative he did enjoy certain aspects of the work but being undercover wasn’t one of those things. He stayed in the intelligence sector and went to work for a contractor that supplemented the US’s intelligence efforts.

Darrell who had designed the conducted energy device they tried to use at the Café perfected the design that he and his team had original developed. The experience of working in a large R & D environment and spending time with and working with the STAG team reinforced to him how important the work he did was. He also felt that his talents would be better utilized as an owner instead of a cog in the machine. After Juarez Dark Voice met with Darrell and offered him deal. He would fund a new company for Darrell to the tune of $5,000,000 and in return Dark Voice and his partners would own %50 of the new corporation. Dark Voice and his partners in Darrell’s venture had contacts at DARPA and throughout the military. The new company would pursue slightly different goals than the work Darrell had been doing previously. Darrell hired an ex-grad student he had worked with and a complete team of researchers and engineers to pursue the objectives that had been assigned to him by Dark Voice.

[alangator]

Fuller
Part 64
Epilogue Continued

The rest of the STAG team left with enough money to dramatically improve their lives and all but one managed to stay out of trouble and keep a low profile. Lep who had been Grimm’s second in command died a year after the program was disbanded when he fell off a roof while drunk. He was trying to break into his ex-wife’s house during an argument at the time. In a twist of fate Lep’s ex-wife was named as his sole beneficiary and inherited a substantial amount of money. Two men from the STAG team including Taco were killed while penetrating the other cartels and Grinchito was injured 6 weeks before the program was disbanded. Grinchito had been shot in the shoulder and required multiple surgeries to re-gain an almost full range of movement in his shoulder. Grinchito underwent extensive rehab and began competing in the National Matches held every year at Camp Perry in Ohio. While Grinchito was enthusiastic about competing and enjoyed the atmosphere at the National’s he was never able to place higher than the middle of the pack. Each and every STAG team members had deployed at least once to either Iraq of Afghanistan before joining STAG and a few needed treatment and counseling for the experiences that they had while soldiers and while working along the border. Members of the US military often suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) when returning home and like many returning vets the people in STAG were no different. So before STAG disbanded certain precautions were put in place to help the team members adjust back to civilian life. The PTSD they suffered was more from the time they spent in uniform than the time they operated in STAG. But the mental health consultants that assisted STAG speculated that working for STAG postponed symptoms and that work would be needed to be done to insure the ex-STAG team members re-integrated into society successfully. And while complicated most of the team stayed in touch with Grimm using elaborate protocols designed to keep everyone as safe as possible. A year after the team disbanded everyone that wanted to meet in Costa Rica and enjoyed a luxurious vacation paid for from the STAG team’s considerable contingency funds. Dark Voice and Grimm needed to make sure that their people were doing as well as possible and the vacation allowed them to access every team member. The contingency fund overseen by Dark Voice and Grinchito was open to scrutiny from every ex-STAG team member and was put in place in the event that the program was made known to anyone that might have an axe to grind against the team. The contingency fund had accrued enough money to allow any ex-member to change their identity and start over. During the time STAG was active they got better and better at gaining access to the extensive cartel funds parked in banks and being stored in lightly secured homes and offices. After they pilfered the funds from the cartel coffers they transferred the money around the world to obfuscate its true origin. So truly discreet accounts were set-up for each team member to make annual pay-outs and the contingency fund was established. With the money they made while the program was active and the money set aside for them if a member was careful he or she could retire and live a modestly comfortable life without the need to work.

Most found employment or volunteered to fill their days and give them a sense of purpose. Gracie met a girl from rural Minnesota and ended up in love and living in Las Vegas. He opened a small gym to train MMA fighters and pulled at risk kids from the streets into the gym to teach them self defense. And while MMA fighters might not seem like good role models they were as a group better than many celebrities or professional athletes whose lives were often plagued by scandal and poor choices. Buoyed by the success of allowing professional MMA fighters to mentor at-risk youths Gracie legally established a non-profit dedicated to helping those teens and enriching their lives in a positive manner. Of all the STAG team members Gracie was consistently the most positive in terms of worldview and attitude. He owed a huge debt to the people that had taught him to fight and had taught him how to live a fulfilling life. Gracie went through life with a smile on his face and good thoughts in his heart.

Dark Voice continued to oversee the STAG program until it was disbanded. He had managed to keep the STAG team and their support apparatus functioning effectively until they were disbanded and years later no one had ascertained the identities of any STAG members or support staff. Long before the team was disbanded Dark Voice was forced to admit to his daughter that he had returned to the workforce and was consulting with various US Intelligence entities on a variety of issues. Neither Dark Voice’s daughter nor any US entity was ever truly aware that the mysterious Dark Voice was the de-facto leader of STAG. The island in Belize was cleaned up and offered to Dark Voice as part of his compensation package for his outstanding work in assembling the STAG team and the steady hand he used to guide it. But the thoughts of spending time on the island paradise after what Dark Voice knew of the islands recent history unsettled him. Instead he took the cash equivalent and invested in a good sized property on the Lake of the Ozarks. It was not a coincidence that Grimm and Close had settled nearby. In fact the two properties were directly next to each other. If Dark Voice wanted to take his family on a vacation to a warm sandy beach he’s put it on his credit card like everyone else did. Dark Voice loved his retirement home and the security and anonymity it afforded him. Being away from the artifice of Washington allowed him to revert to the man he had once been before being distracted by the culture of bureaucracy that plagued our nation’s capital. Dark Voice was also able to take the time to learn to fly and passed his FAA’s Pilot’s License testing. That led to Dark Voice buying a 4 seat float plane and occasionally Grimm and Close would take a short trip with him and his lady friend.

Bongo and Rosie with Ales between them became a couple and ended up married. They lived on a 25 acre tract of land 10 miles from the small rural town that Rosie had grown up in. From when Rosie had first become a dog handler her goal had been to breed and train working dogs and their land was a perfect place to do that. Bongo helped out with the working dog training until he ran and won the race to become Sherriff of their small county. Twice a week when the weather was just right Bongo, Rosie and Ales piled into Bongo’s county vehicle, rolled down the windows and drove around the counties back roads. When Ales exhibited signs of smelling drugs they pulled over and let Ales do his thing on the road. If Bongo suspected that Ales had found something that warranted further examination he marked the coordinates into his portable GPS unit. Bongo tracked all the pings using software and found out anything unusual about the area that might indicate higher than normal drug activity. Occasionally two of the men Bongo served with in Afghanistan would visit to “help out”. When that happened the experienced soldiers would gear up and head out doing surveillance looking for meth cooks and pot growers. The county quickly gained a reputation as a tough place to do business within the local drug community and some of the people that were responsible for the local drug problem found other places to do their dirty and dangerous business. Drug sales were still a problem but using a variety of methods Bongo exerted enough pressure to send half the small dealers across county lines where they became someone else’s problem.

The pilot that had flown their Bell 430 helicopter retired after they disbanded STAG. He retired to his “ranch” in central Texas. His experiences living in Texas had been part of the reason he accepted the job that Dark Voice had offered him. He had seen firsthand the misery that the cartels wrought and wanted to do something positive about it. He began spending his retirement building an ultra light from a kit, it was that aircraft that cut his life short two years after retiring.

The video tracking and video removal technology used at Person of Interest Tracking (POINT) Technologies in Austin Texas had been funded and developed in-house by DARPA, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Administration. The DARPA office of Microsystems Technology Office had used the POINT Technologies work supporting the STAG mission to Beta test their hardware and software solutions and refine their efforts. Once the STAG program folded they retrieved their Beta versions of the protocol and turned around and licensed it to POINT Technologies who quickly morphed into a government contractor. POINT Technologies would now work with entities within military and law enforcement community that did not officially have access to the protocols.

Jimmy Mackmann and his two sons benefitted greatly from their chance meeting with Fuller. Fuller eventually became friendly with Jimmy who ended up volunteering at a non-profit that helped military families that had lost a parent cope with their loss. Hunter and Bo both ended up joining the Marines and received the type of discipline that forced them to mature quickly. The Marines also gave them the vocational training that would make their life after the military more productive. Fuller saw both boys a year after he and Tim had met them and was shocked at how well the boys seemed to be doing. The way they interacted with him compared to the day they had first met was the difference between night and day. Both young men had come to understand they stood a fair chance of a decent life after serving their country and were proud of their Corps. A little over a year after joining the Marines both young men married the mothers of their children. Serving in the military can be very hard on a young family yet Hunter and Bo’s wives benefitted greatly from their new found maturity. Once the boys grow up they learned how to treat the women in their lives and how to become the best dads they could be. Their wives were both flexible and seemed to enjoy the various posting they were assigned during their Marine careers. Since the plan was that both boys would serve together the brothers were happy they had the opportunity to experience military life with their brother at their side.

Mr. White the interrogation specialist at the facility in Belize died of a self-inflected shotgun wound months after STAG disbanded. He had been an interrogation specialist for 11 years and once he was left with his own thoughts and the memories of what he had done and seen he spun out of control. Unable to live with his actions despite the good that had come from his work he quickly turned to self-medicating with drugs and booze to cope. That attempt at self-medicating quickly spun out control and led to crushing depression and a sense of guilt that convinced White that the only way to conquer his past was his death.

Catalina McMillan-Gomez, who ran a facility that provided babies to shady adoption attorneys, was charged with various local, state and federal crimes. She quickly made a deal and agreed to share everything that she knew about the cartel and the less than reputable lawyers that handled the adoptions for the facility. After agreeing to testify against the Juarez Cartel she was moved to a secure room in a minimum security prison 3 states away. However the only people she ever had dealings with in the Juarez Cartel in the US either disappeared and or were confirmed as being dead. That meant Catalina’s sole usefulness to the authorities was in testifying against the lawyers that had violated various Texas and Federal laws. With her diminished usefulness her hope of avoiding jail time evaporated. Eventually she was sentenced to 12 years in prison and spent the next decade hoping and working toward early release.

The End