New Growth (Spook Hills Trilogy Book 2) (27 page)

 
“Like implanting a
chip?” he asked in a tone of disbelief.

“No way.
 
I
mean
a little gizmo to wear as a necklace or a
charm.
 
A
bit
late I guess.”

“Good idea for the duration of this Fuentes operation.
 
I’ll order one to be overnighted.”

“Two in case they pick you up.”

“Fair enough.
 
Ivy,
next time start screaming.
 
Use those
defensive maneuvers I taught you.”

“Let a sharpshooter kill you and endanger innocent
people?
 
I don’t think so.”

“Make a pledge to me to put yourself first.
 
I am skilled in handling sharpshooters.”

Ivy resisted the temptation to launch into an argument with
Steve.
 
Instead
she reached up to wrap her arm around his knee and rested her head
on
his thigh, enjoying the masculinity of his
twill pants against her skin.
 
Her
abduction today made him think he failed
her
while she surprised herself with her ability to cope with the charged
situation.

“What’s the schedule for tomorrow?” she asked.

“Brian and Moll are due down here for breakfast at
eight.
 
Whoops, I should have told you
earlier.
 
Man, I seem to be wrong-footing
everything I do today,” Steve said as he reached down to caress her cheek.

“How about potato pancakes topped with apples in cinnamon
sugar syrup, along with crispy pepper bacon?
 
You can toast up a Challah loaf with raisins and we’ll layout a buffet
in the kitchen.
 
What’s the agenda?”

“First, you and I will brief everyone so we are all in
possession of the same background knowledge.
 
Then we will flesh out the demands we will require from the
Fuentes.
 
After we draft up our document,
I will send the tuned version to the Chief for approval.
 
Next
we’ll run scenarios on possible locations.
 
I want to avoid a meeting on any yachts anchored offshore.
 
Too hard to shield our guys and nowhere for
them to escape if things go sour.”

“Public venue?” Ivy asked.
 
“Cruze and Annetta will not walk into an FBI office or police station.”

“A restaurant or outdoor café, depending on the locale.”

“You think they are still in-country?”

“I am guessing they whipped out of here to Seattle or
Sacramento or Boise and jumped on a plane to Latin America or Europe, probably
splitting up and doing multiple hops to their destination, switching tickets or
transportation modes,” Steve said.
 
He
finished his transaction and put his laptop aside.

“Enough on that topic,” he said.
 
“Since we’re going over this with everyone in
the morning, for tonight let’s be Ivy and Steve.”

Did Steve just suggest backing off from work?
 
Ivy decided to enjoy the change.
 

“Com’on, Agent Nielsen,” she said.
 
“Let’s chat about our holiday bash while we
eat and then go to bed where I can snuggle with you.”

Together they walked into the kitchen with the two corgis on
their heels, undeterred from their hopes of tidbits by having eaten their own
food an hour before.
 
Harry turned eleven
this year and his coat was starting to turn whiter.
 
Younger by two years, Cleopatra tended to
follow Harry’s lead.
 
They protected
their turf with the fierceness of much larger
dogs,
and they had a snoopiness characteristic of corgis.
 

Druid the cat
peered
at her with his slanted green eyes from his favored place on an overstuffed
chair in the kitchen.
 
In the evenings,
he marked time until he nuzzled by her side in bed after hunting in the fields
and under the vines.
 
At
thirteen
he snoozed more each year, but he
still needed his time outdoors, savoring the country air and soaking up the
sunshine
.
 
Druid’s life was an enticing way to grow old.
 

Her ordeal opened her
senses,
and she found her perceptions sharpened.
 
With the noise in her head kicked out, her most dear loves stood out
like 3-D objects against a painted stage set -- Steve, her pets, her close
friends and her home.
 

Two days later, Mathew flew into Paris with Moll, both
too jittery to even doze on the flight.
 
They
registered at their hotel, slept as much as their nerves allowed and prepared
to reconnoiter with the Fuentes in the fashionable 6
^th
Arrondissement at a trendy café called Aux Pres that Julio had texted that
morning.
 
As they now jumped into a taxi,
Mathew found himself beset with doubts about his ability to conduct these
negotiations.
 
Dealing with the mob
leader in San Francisco was an attorney-to-attorney discussion either by phone
or in the safe confines of the U.S. Marshall’s office.
 
Today they would be in direct contact with
two of the wily Fuentes.

Earlier that morning he and Moll did some role-playing.
 
Now as they neared their destination, he had
to lecture himself to remain calm.
 
Seeing the gray buildings with rain tip-tapping on their windows
reminded him of another day in Sofia almost two years ago when he and Brian had
handled a setup to catch criminals pedaling children to prostitution
rings.
 

Apart from Brian taking a bullet in his thigh, that
operation had gone
smoothly.
 
T
hose felons were incarcerated in a
Bulgarian prison.
 
They had succeeded in
Bulgaria.
 
They must achieve a negotiated
settlement here.
 
Mathew was now the
front man.
 
He still had Steve standing
squarely, if distantly, behind him.
 
The
cab pulled over
to
the
curb,
and he nodded to reassure Moll.
 
They would do well here today because the
trust of the U.S. government was placed in them.
 

Moll gave him his lopsided grin and said, “We’re on.
 
You’re the Big Guy now.”

They were about to be sitting across the table from the
cousins, negotiating the list of demands, including having the two fugitives
turn over the identities and crimes of three suspected felons for Steve to
verify the quality of the evidence offered to gain their freedom.
 
Mindful that hoodlums hired by the Fuentes
might track their every step, they scrambled out of the taxi and entered the
restaurant, wanting to give the impression of two businessmen coming to confer
on a financial matter.
 

The Fuentes, using the name
Andada
,
were seated at a table.
 
As the Maître d’
led them over, Mathew spotted an ice bucket next to the table, along with four
flutes for champagne.
 
Cruze sat hunched
over his plate, his body tense as if ready to bolt.
 
Julio sat erect with a poised demeanor.
 
His Saville Row suit flowed over him like
grass on a gentle sloping hillside.
 
Mathew’s inquisitiveness piqued about Julio as Annetta, since he
portrayed a convincing transgender man, sleek and handsome.
 

Even as they sat stiffly in their chairs while the waiter
poured the wine, Julio took control of the wait staff with a subtle
authority.
 
Once they had ordered, Moll
took out a terms sheet and handed copies around while Mathew began speaking.

“This is an unusual circumstance we are
in.
 
However
certain others the FBI encountered over the years are not dissimilar,” Mathew
said.
 
“We will walk through the FBI’s
requirements.
 
You will note this
agreement, once consummated, will be binding on all agencies of the United
States
since the Department of Justice will be
party to it.
 
The Director of the FBI
will
sign
it,
and
the District Court will execute its terms in
an order.
 
We did not apprise the
DEA or any other departments of our collaboration to avoid the potential for
precipitate action.”

Cruze nodded.
 
Though
not a college-educated man, Mathew thought he understood the gist of what was
said.
 

“This pact we are making will apply to the big agent as
well?” Cruze asked.

“Although he is no longer part of the FBI, he will be
subject to the arrangement,” Mathew replied.

“Will he honor it?”

“Retired Agent Nielsen may be persistent, nevertheless he
will obligate himself to this negotiation provided he approves the final
version.
 
The formal agreement will
include a signed addendum which will mandate adherence by him and his
consultants, which includes the two of us.
 
All this is as long as both of you
abide
by your side of the bargain.”

Skipping ahead through the document, Cruze said, “You want
$200 million from the two of us?
 
What if
we can’t come up with so much money?”

 
While he said those words
with a poker-straight face, a quick evasive gleam in his eyes said he would
give on this point.
 
In
response
Mathew said, “Cruze, we extrapolated
figures from you and your brothers’ operations.
 
We traced transactions through banks for the last seven years.
 
We estimate your portion of the pile amounts
to more than the $200 million.”

Mathew shifted his gaze to Julio and said, “Julio, we combed
through your tax filings and
known
finances.
 
Balking at paying this sum is
not acceptable.”

Julio showed no reaction to the amount.
 
Mathew continued looking at each of the
Fuentes, “You should consider the human interest aspect.
 
The U.S. Treasury will earmark the money to
support educational and counseling programs for disadvantaged youths in
Hispanic and Latino neighborhoods.”

Cruze held his gaze until his eyes lost awareness as his
mind shifted and Mathew suspected he was thinking about his
youth
.
 
If each of the Fuentes applied their talents as entrepreneurs in legal
business ventures, Mathew did not doubt their success.

Julio pressed Cruze’s arm in a restraining gesture and said,
“I assume we can negotiate these points.”

“You may find latitude on particular topics.
 
Not on this one.”

When their appetizers
arrived,
t
hey slid their papers to the side. Mathew started eating while Moll
reviewed the next set of provisions.
 
He
began in what he referred
to as
his more
polished suit talk
.
 
Halfway through
his point-by-point discussion of
the text, he lapsed into his more
colorful vernacular.

Each of the Fuentes ate at a slow
pace
as if using each bite to contemplate one of the points Moll
discussed.
 
Julio showed refined table
manners and Mathew pictured him at stylish parties in Miami or abroad.
 
He anticipated finding the Annetta/Julio
transliteration off-putting and yet Julio performed so flawlessly that Mathew
found himself able to concentrate on the deal.
 
If he did not know Julio to be a woman, his worldly-chic male persona
would take him in completely.

The two cousins appealed to him in a way he had never
experienced with another criminal.
 
They
were not all bad, Mathew realized as he surreptitiously studied their
faces.
 
He remembered their stories as
Ivy related them following her abduction.
 
In other
circumstances,
Mathew
might want to call each of them friends
and that thought astounded him.
 
He
cautioned himself that it must not influence his stances on matters related to
their negotiations.

The dialogue continued until Moll covered the full contents of
the terms sheet.
 
The Fuentes brought up
no additions of their own but did ask a few questions and made a couple of
comments.
 

Julio spoke first, saying. “We need to deliberate the
acceptability of each point in this proposal.”

“Understand.
 
Remember, a short
timeline
will be
the safest.
 
We want two days to
authenticate your
exemplar
submission of
possible perpetrators.
 
Nielsen will
handle this investigation
himself to
ensure its performance in the strictest secrecy.
 
No detention attempts will be made until
after the agreed document is filed and you once again disappear.
 
The sooner you send the three names to us,
the more speedily we can move to resolution.”

Julio turned his eyes to
Cruze,
who dipped his head in understanding.
 
Julio took a small sip from his flute of wine, then raised the
forefinger of his right hand as he made eye contact with his cousin.

“Will you tell me about the night Cristo and Eduardo died?”
Cruze asked.

The question startled Mathew, yet it was not illogical for
Cruze to ask it.
 
He took a drink of
water and responded.
 
“We pursued the
collective El Zorro Astuto on and off for a long time until we discovered the
location of the house in Madrid.
 
When
Cristo returned there for Thanksgiving, we lined up the necessary personnel to
disable your extensive security net and move on to the property, both overland
and underground through the old mine shaft connecting to the vault off the
basement.
 
A SWAT team rushed into the
house first, followed by the FBI squad assigned to take over the case.
 
Steve and I and a couple of others tailed
along behind them.”

“Did you see them die?
 
Did the big agent assassinate them?” Cruze kept his
voice soft,
trying not to reveal either his
anger or the depth of his anguish from the loss of his brothers, yet Mathew was
certain he must feel both intensely.

“In front of
us,
the
D.C. based leader told your
brothers
to
drop their weapons.
 
Eduardo said
something like, ‘Cristo, I
can’t . .
.’
and Cristo put three bullets in him, killing your brother instantaneously.
 
Cristo spun and shot Steve twice in the
chest.
 
The other agents in the room
fired at Cristo.
 
Each of your brothers
died instantly.

“Steve fell over, clutching his chest.
 
Even though he wore a bulletproof vest, the
impact stopped his heart.
 
He also lay
dead in front of us.
 
The minutes ticked
by as the medics made several efforts to bring him back.
 
Thinking he could not be revived, we each
stared at Steve horrified.
 
Finally
when even the
medics
began to look panicked, they managed to restart his
heart.
 
Steve
was breathing again, although he was weak and dazed.

“Understand this.
 
Cristo
rapid-fired
all his shots
first.
 
Your brothers would be alive if
Cristo
had lowered
his weapon.”

“And Nielsen’s wife?”
 
Julio asked.

“She stayed secured in an assault vehicle outside with
Moll,” Mathew replied.
 
“Despite the
danger, she and Steve are so
tightly
bonded she wanted to be nearby.
 
We
called her and Moll into the house when he went down.
 
Seeing him lying dead devastated each of us,
but Ivy most of all.
 
You may not
understand this, but Steve is a good man.
 
He is the best man I know.”

“This Ivy is dependable?”

He smiled, recalling how Ivy had stepped into their lives,
gracious and steadfast, bringing both her characteristic fire and reason.
 
“She can be a
powerhouse,
but she is trustworthy.
 
While she wanted
to be here, she is not . . .”

“Trained by the FBI,” Cruze said, finishing the sentence for
him.
 
“You are.”

Mathew nodded.
 
“We
worked as federal
agents.
 
W
e are consulting in the same capacity
now.
 
Even so, we want this matter with
you resolved so we can focus on our futures.”

“We share the same goal,” Julio said with the controlled
modulation typifying his speech.

When Moll played his summary commentaries to the two
Fuentes, Mathew could tell he did his best to draw them in, stressing both
their obligations and the prospect of living in relative freedom from
prosecution.
 
His casual style fostered
their confidence.
 
Their body language
changed, making them appear less resistant than at the beginning of the
conversation.
 
They agreed to touch base
by phone at 5 p.m. with Cruze passing them a phone number.
 
The cousins remained at the table when they
departed.
 

The get-together went smoother than Mathew had foreseen,
which made him suspect that the hard bargaining would occur in the coming
days.
 
The cousins appeared to be
contemplative and not as reactive as they might have been.
 
On some
provisos,
he estimated a more immediate negative response and yet the Fuentes masked
their reactions.
 
Their concern with
Steve and his tenacious pursuit surprised him.
 
He had taken his pension and retired until aggressive acts by Eduardo
and Cristo had forced his re-involvement.
 
Mathew made a mental note to point that out to the cousins if the topic
resurfaced.