Plausible Denial (32 page)

With
so many deaths occurring at the same time, police suspected foul play and
immediately jumped to the conclusion that the deaths were somehow related to
reprisals by a rival gang. The
Top 6
gang controlled a corridor of
territory that ran roughly along the railroad tracks from Riviera Beach to
Boynton Beach, but another Haitian gang called the
Tru Haitian Boyz
had
recently been infringing on its territory. They became the main suspects.

The
police collected syringes, spoons and heroin residue from the scene, and when
the toxicology and autopsy reports came back they showed clear evidence that
the heroin was tainted with ricin poison.

Two
days after the press published the news of the ricin poisonings, two well-known
drug dealers, twenty-three year old Berno Chalemond and twenty-five year old
Tite Sufra, were shot execution style in the back of the head on Southwest
Second Street in Boynton Beach.

Two
suspects, identified by eyewitnesses as eighteen year old Jeriah “Plug” Woody
and twenty-five year old Jesse Cesar, were arrested a day later. Under
interrogation they admitted they had killed the two drug dealers because they
had supplied the ricin-laced heroin that had killed their eight
Top 6
brothers.

Aware
now of the possibility of ricin tainted heroin, toxicologists began reporting
an epidemic of apparent overdose deaths caused by ricin tainted heroin
spreading throughout the gang controlled areas of Palm Beach County, Florida.

These
deaths were followed by other assassinations of known drug suppliers in
Folk
Nation
territory in Boca Raton,
Latin Kings
territory in Belle
Glade, and
Bloods
and
Crips
territory in Jupiter and Palm Beach
Gardens.

The
epidemic of gangland killings and deaths by ricin-laced heroin caught the
attention of the national media, which fueled the frenzied killing of heroin
suppliers across the entire southeast coast of the United States.

Chapter One Hundred-Three

C
uller
Santos tossed the newspaper across the conference table to MacMurphy. “It
couldn’t happen to a better bunch of lowlife. Talk about culling society of its
undesirable elements! I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

Maggie
looked at him crossly across the table. “You did do it, Culler. Have you
already forgotten?”

“No,
I haven’t forgotten, but as much as I love you, Maggie, I can’t understand your
stance on this issue. The world is a better place without those assholes…”

“The
ends don’t justify the means, Culler. Never. And what about the collateral
damage? What about the innocents who will die?”

“I
haven’t seen any evidence of that. At least not yet I haven’t…”

Mac
stood up and stretched. “Okay, okay. No more squabbling. What’s done is done.
The moving hand, having writ, moves on…as the poet says. We can’t go on
worrying about things we can’t control. These animals know nothing more than
swift retribution. And that’s a good thing. Let’em keep on killing each other.
Culler’s right about that. The world will be a better place without them.”

Maggie
stood up and walked to the door. She pulled the door open and turned back to
face them, legs apart and breathing heavily, chest rising and falling under her
light blouse. “Until the first innocent kid, or father or mother dies. Will it
be worth it then? I don’t think so…” She slammed the door behind her.

Mac
sat back down at the table. “I don’t know, Culler. I don’t know.”

Culler
said, “I’m sorry she feels that way, but this isn’t going to stop any time
soon. It’ll travel all the way up the daisy chain to Khun Ut and his cohorts.
Those who aren’t killed in the fury of mass retribution will go broke and be
put out of business. Now that it’s in the press the entire heroin trade in the
U.S. will suffer. Looks like our version of Operation Eldest Son has been a
resounding success. It’s what we wanted to happen and it’s happening. And
that’s a fact and I’m happy about it.”

Mac
stood up. “You’re right of course. The operation worked.” He reached out his
hand to Santos and they embraced, shoulder to shoulder. “But hell,” he
snickered, “people will now probably just switch to cocaine. We may have just
done the Colombian and Mexican cartels a huge favor.”

Chapter One Hundred-Four

C
indy
and Mac were awakened early the next morning by the ringing of Mac’s throwaway
cell phone.

“Sorry
to bother you so early, Mac, but I managed to wrangle a trip down to Miami to
meet with the station and I wondered if we could meet for a few minutes while
I’m in the area.”

Mac
recognized Rothmann’s deep, gravely voice immediately and sat up straight in
bed. “Sure, just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“I’m
leaving for the airport now. Should be done with business by about three
o’clock. Pick me up in front of the Borders Book Store on San Lorenzo Avenue in
Coral Gables at exactly three forty-five.
Ça va
?”

“Okay,
three forty-five, Borders, Coral Gables. Got it. I’ll be there.”

“Good…”
The phone went dead.

They
were both fully awake and sitting straight up in their bed. Cindy rubbed the
sleep out of her eyes and regarded him with a wide questioning look. The sheet
had dropped down to her lap revealing luscious breasts and capturing Mac’s
gaze. “Who was that?” she asked.

“Potential
client,” he lied, “He wants to meet later this afternoon.” He reached out and
caressed the nearest breast with the back of his fingers, causing the nipple to
harden.

“Stop
it!” she giggled, brushing his hand away.

He
moved toward her and nuzzled her neck and whispered into her ear. “Now that
we’re awake, can you think of anything to do?”

She
slid into his arms and pulled him down on top of her. “I’m sure we can think of
something.” His hand moved over her hip and around the soft inner part of her
thigh and then up...

Chapter One Hundred-Five

T
he
Borders Book Store was located only a few blocks from the CIA’s Miami station.

Edwin
Rothmann’s interest in books was legendary in the Agency. Wherever he went he
always visited the local bookstores. He had a voracious appetite for reading
and usually read two or three books at a time. Although history was his
passion, historical novels, as long as they were accurate, were his second
love.

So
it was not unusual when Rothmann broke off his meetings with the station staff
and announced that he was going to take a short walk over to the Borders
Bookstore before heading back to Washington DC.

It
was a bright, sunny day in southern Florida – just another day in paradise, as
the natives would constantly remind the snowbirds from the north. A refreshing
November breeze coming off the ocean rustled through the palm trees while the
big man strolled the shady tree-lined streets, blue blazer thrown casually over
his shoulder, limping slightly.

He
arrived at the bookstore about ten minutes early and went inside to browse a
bit before his pick-up by MacMurphy. At precisely three forty-five he walked
briskly outside and jumped into the beige Cadillac that pulled up to the curb.
He glanced at his watch. “Right on time, as always. But where did you get this
car? I thought you told me you bought a BMW when you ‘retired.’”

“I
did. This is a rental. In alias, of course. What would you expect me to do when
meeting with the DDO?”

“Of
course. Never slack up on the tradecraft, Mac. You never know…”

“Don’t
worry, sir, I won’t.”

“I
know, I know. Glad to see you back in one piece, Mac. It got a little hairy out
there, didn’t it?”

“Yes,
it did. We had a couple of close calls, but it looks like everything worked out
as planned in the end.”

The
big man shifted his weight in the seat and turned toward Mac. “That’s why I’m
here, Mac. Khun Ut has gone berserk again. He’s totally lost it this time.
Yesterday morning he and his men assaulted Charly Blackburn’s compound, killed
the guards and grabbed Charly. He’s also got her Hmong asset. Intercepts tell
us they’re both being held in the basement of his villa in Ban Hin Taek.”

Mac
pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped. He pounded his fist on
the steering wheel. “Holy shit! You’ve got to be kidding...”

“No,
I’m not kidding. And we’ve got to assume that Khun Ut now knows for certain
what happened in the jungle that night when you guys injected that ricin into
his shipment of heroin. Otherwise he wouldn’t have grabbed Vanquish.”

Mac
rubbed his temples. “The fucking butcher! We’ve got to get Charly out of there.
Won’t the Thais do anything?”

Two
men in dressed in business suits walked past their car on the sidewalk and one
of them glanced back over his shoulder at them. “We’d better keep moving,” said
Mac, pulling back onto the road.

“Good
idea. To answer your question, the Thais only know that Charly has been
kidnapped. We’ve told them who we suspect is behind it and they agree, but they
won’t take any action until they have completed their own investigation. That
could take weeks, and then…who knows. They’re not very cooperative these days.
I wish General Chavalit was back in charge. The current leadership is made up
of a bunch of pussies.”

Mac
drove aimlessly through the residential streets of Coral Gables while they
talked. “We can’t leave her with that maniac for that long. They’ll kill her.”

Rothmann
pushed his bulk back into the seat, adjusted his seat belt over his girth and
stretched out his bum leg. “That’s what I’m concerned about. That’s why I’m
here.”

“You
want us to go back.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes,
go back there and put eyes on Khun Ut’s mountain villa. If you get the
opportunity, take him out. You know how to do that. His empire is crumbling and
with him gone we might be able to save Charly and Vanquish. But we’ve got to
act fast.”

“Son
of a bitch…”

“Yeah,
my sentiments exactly. By the way, before she was picked up Charly cleaned out
the safehouse of all your gear. It’s being held at the base. How do you want me
to get it to you?”

Mac’s
mind was spinning. “Damn, I don’t know. Is there anyone else? We can’t use
General Sawat any longer…”

Rothmann
shook his big head. “And we can’t risk exposing any more base personnel to you.
You guys are toxic.” He scratched his head in thought. “But I can have someone
drop it off someplace for you.”

“You’re
right, Ed. How about bringing the stuff back to the old safehouse? If it’s
still clean, we can stay there and avoid having to check into a hotel.”

“As
far as I know it is. That’s not a bad idea. There’s one guy in the base I would
trust to do this. He was close to Charly. A base communicator – big lanky, good
ole boy Texan named Gene Garrett. I can chat with him securely offline through
the communicator’s work link without alerting anyone else. That might work.”

“If
he could bring the gear to the safehouse and leave the key someplace, maybe taped
above the door jam, we’d be in business.”

 “Okay.
Good idea. That way you guys will never have to meet. I’ll tell Garrett to
deliver the gear to the safehouse and leave the key taped above the door jam.
I’ll also tell our new acting chief of base to stay away from that safehouse
until further notice. I’ll give him some excuse like it may be blown or
something like that. That’ll give you some privacy.”

“Okay,
we’ll leave tomorrow. I think we’ll go back through Vientiane and cross into
Thailand from there. That’s the way we got out. Colonel Sunthonwet can get us
in and out without any problems.”

“Sunthonwet’s
a good guy. Corrupt as hell, but still a good guy. Hell, they’re all corrupt
out there. Especially around Nong Khai. The cops pay a lot of money to get
assigned to border crossing spots like Nong Khai. They make a fortune in graft
from all of the commerce going back and forth across the border.

“You
can drop me off here. I can walk back to the station.”

“Okay,
boss.” Mac pulled off to the side of the road and the big man heaved his bulk
out of the car.

Rothmann
leaned back through the car window and the two shook hands. “I’ll be in
touch…and good luck, Mac. Sorry I can’t help you more. Keep your phone on and
I’ll keep you updated on the situation. If there are any changes I’ll let you
know. You’ve got to get Charly out of there…”

“I
know, boss. I know…”

Chapter One Hundred-Six

M
acMurphy
dropped off the rental car and drove back to the office to brief Maggie and
Santos. It was after five when he got there and the staff had left for the day.
Mac stopped in front of Santos’s office and poked his head inside. Santos was
hunched over his computer screen answering emails.

“Got
a minute?” said Mac.

Santos
pecked a few more words and pushed back from his desk. “You bet. Can’t wait…”

Culler
followed Mac down the hall to Maggie’s office. They found her behind her desk,
deep in thought editing an article for GSR’s CounterThreat publication. She
wore reading glasses down low on her nose and was scratching her graying head
with a pencil.

Mac
waited for Culler to enter and then closed the door behind him. They plopped
into comfortable chairs in front of her desk. She removed her glasses, tossed
them aside and put her elbows on her desk. “Shoot,” she said. “What did the
boss have to say?”

“Not
good… Khun Ut has gone on another rampage. He’s feeling the pressure and wants
to know what’s behind it. He grabbed Charly and Vanquish and is holding them in
his mountain villa in Ban Hin Taek. The DDO’s got some intercepts to confirm
that’s where they’re being held.”

Maggie
threw her head back and stared at him, mouth agape, wide eyed, unable to speak.
Santos uttered: “Son…of…a…bitch...” Punctuating each word.

“So
he wants you back there,” said Maggie.

“Yes,
right away.”

“You’re
going to miss Christmas,” she groaned.

“It’s
not even December yet. We’ll be back in plenty of time for Christmas.”

“Let
me get this straight. He wants you to go out there and rescue them – just the
two of you – without any help from the Company or the Thais or anyone else. How
the hell are you going to do that?”

Mac
didn’t know how to respond. Finally he said, “This isn’t about Charly Blackburn
or Vanquish. It’s about cutting the head off the snake. It’s about stopping Khun
Ut. Ed Rothmann believes that if Khun Ut is gone the rest of his organization
will dissolve – his men will desert him like rats deserting a sinking ship. And
I agree with him...”

“And
how do you intend to ‘cut the head off the snake,’ as you so aptly put it? Do
you have a plan?”

Santos
felt like he was watching a tennis match, his head turning from him to her.

Mac
took a deep breath, exhaled, and said, “Look, right now chaos reigns in Khun
Ut’s dirty little empire. Pushers and buyers are at each others’ throats.
People who have lost loved ones due to the tainted heroin are going after the
local pushers, and the pushers are going after the local distributors, and
they’re going after the regional distributors. This is happening all the way up
the line to Khun Ut himself. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already
know. Buyers are shunning his product. His distribution networks are crumbling.
This is what we intended to happen. The problem is he suspects the CIA is
behind it and if he has any luck with his interrogations of Charly and Vanquish
– and I don’t doubt that he will – he’ll know for sure. That’s what we’re
dealing with.”

Santos’s
head turned to Maggie.

She
nervously finger-combed her hair back away from her face and leaned forward.

“So
now you are going to add assassination to your list of misdeeds. How many
people are you going to kill before this is over? Mac, you’re a case officer.
You’re both intelligence officers. Intelligence officers don’t do these kinds
of things. Our country doesn’t do these kinds of things.”

Santos’s
head swung back to MacMurphy.

Mac
didn’t want to argue with her, but tensions were elevating and he felt himself
getting sucked in.

“Oh
yeah, right. What about all of those Predator and Reaper drones in Afghanistan
and Iraq? Tell me the difference between a bullet from a sniper rifle and a
Hellfire missile from a drone. The answer is: there is no difference.”

Santos’s
head swung back to Maggie.

“You
know very well that political assassination was outlawed by the Agency way back
in the seventies when everyone found out we tried to take out Castro with
poison and an exploding cigar. The drones are different.” She sat back in her
chair in a display of finality, as if to say,
This argument is over
.

Santos
stood up and excused himself.

Mac
stood up and started to leave with Culler, but he turned back to her and said,
“The answer is yes. I would follow Edwin Rothmann to the gates of hell and
back. We’re going to finish this. I don’t know how we are going to do it, but
we’re not going to give up now and leave Charly swinging in the wind. We owe
that to him. And her.”

Santos
turned to Maggie. “I’m sorry, Maggie. Mac’s right. We’ve got to try. We’ll be
careful, but we have to try. It’s more than just the DDO now. Khun Ut has two
of our people and we can’t abandon them. We’ve got to do something. I’m
sorry…”        

She
shook her head. “Go ahead, get yourselves killed. I can’t stop you. But I’ve
got a bad feeling about this. A real bad feeling…”

Chapter One Hundred-Seven

S
antos
and MacMurphy met at the gym early the next morning. They both worked out in
the weight room and then Santos spent the next forty-five minutes working out
on the heavy bag while Mac went for a leisurely, five-mile run on the quay
along the Intracoastal Waterway.

After
their workouts they indulged in a large breakfast of ham and eggs, hash brown
potatoes, toast and coffee at the Denny’s across the street from the gym.

Filled
with trepidation about their impending trip back to Thailand, they did not talk
much about what they planned to do once they got there. They knew how they were
going to get into the country – with the help of Colonel Sunthonwet over the
Thai-Lao Friendship Bridge – but they didn’t really have a plan beyond that.

This
bothered Mac more than it did Santos. MacMurphy liked to plan everything down
to the minutest detail before embarking on a mission. Although he possessed
that special case officer trait of being able to “wing it” whenever necessary,
he never went into an operation intending to just “wing it” or “play it by
ear.”

He
believed that precise planning for every possible eventuality was the key to
success in any operation. But in this case he had yet to figure out what he was
going to do when he got to Thailand, and this concerned him a lot.