The Cartel Enforcers (The Bill Dix Detective Series Book 2) (32 page)

“Okay boss, let me grab some gear out of my locker and I’ll meet you guys back at the Humvees.” He gathered his composure and walked into the main building. He walked toward the locker room feeling pretty confident the day would end like most days, with no excitement. Several of his friends made little comments to him as he walked through the building. Since the boss needed him for an operation, he told them he couldn’t talk too long.

After he unlocked his locker and grabbed his duty weapon and gear for policing the border, he checked his phone. No messages or missed phone calls.

He worked his way back to the rear of the building to join the team. He saw them and the other two teams in three separate groups standing near the vehicles. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He walked toward them with the typical arrogance he normally had.

As he got closer, his boss yelled out while pointing at a new vehicle arrival to the fleet and said, “We’re in that new one. We’ll be right there. Keys are in it. Get the AC going it’s hotter than hell out here.” Garcia chuckled and mocked the other guys because he was getting the new vehicle.

“All right let’s get the show on the road. I have a hot date tonight.” Garcia loaded his gear in the truck, got inside, and shut the door. He checked his phone again. He had one new text message. Before clicking the screen to access the message, Garcia looked up to make sure no one was around. He noticed agents were moving toward him in several diamond formations.
That’s weird,
he thought,
maybe they’re just practicing or showing off for the big boss
. He pressed the phone screen to access the text message. “Shit!” he said out loud.

The message read, “They think they have the main guy identified. You better lay low.”

Garcia looked up quickly and noticed his vehicle was surrounded. Three teams he had worked with for seven years had their weapons trained on him. In the time between reading the message and the information sinking in, he did not notice the door locking mechanism automatically lock when he started the car to get the AC going. He tested the door handle and it didn’t open. He was trapped and felt like a caged animal with nowhere to run.

None of the people pointing weapons at him said a word. The looks on their faces demonstrated he was in real trouble. He tried to figure out what to do next, but he was fixated on how they had figured him out and how they now had him trapped. He thought about his deceased mother and father. They were the ones who raised him to be the next leader. He retraced every step he had done since he was six years old and was completely dumbfounded how it all fell apart so quickly. He knew if he was caught, he would not be tortured or maimed like he would if he was on Mexican soil, but he would be psychologically broken down until he cracked. He would rather be dead than give up information. Most importantly, he had failed his mother and father, and this shook him up inside. The disgrace he felt was crushing his spirit with each passing second. Garcia did not realize he was tapping his duty weapon handle over and over. It donned on him that he could use it to kill as many people possible before ultimately taking his own life.

He contemplated his next move. He recognized one of the Florida cops and HSI Agent Sullivan from the collision at the border the day prior walking toward his location. He noticed their weapons were in holsters.
Big mistake
, he thought. He would wait until they were closer and kill them before he ended his own life.

They walked toward him and walked right up to the vehicle. They stood there looking at him and he assumed they had no idea what was about to happen next. He slipped his duty weapon out, took aim at HSI Agent Sullivan and pulled the trigger expecting the window and her head to explode. Nothing happened and he pulled the trigger again and again. Still nothing happened. He expected to be fired upon, but nothing happened. He placed the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He tapped and racked the slide and repeated the process. Nothing happened again. He looked out the window and saw Sullivan smiling.

“Go to hell you dumb bitch!” he screamed. His mind was spinning. He’d run out of ideas and moves.

Sullivan smiled and replied, “Goodnight ‘El Hefe.’” She looked over to someone to her left and nodded. She looked back to El Hefe and watched as white smoke filled the cabin of the vehicle. He clawed at the door handle and window desperately trying to get out. Eventually, he was subdued by the incapacitating agent. The teams worked quickly to pull him out of the car, hand cuff and shackle him, and transport him to a secure location.

Chapter 55

Later at a local sushi restaurant, Petersen and Sullivan recounted the entire story about Jesus Garcia to Dix. He was dumbfounded. He took another bite of sushi and shrugged. The last seven days were a blur to him, but this topped off the shenanigans.

“You guys make a great team. So is the guy talking?” Dix asked.

Sullivan looked at Petersen and the jovial atmosphere disappeared.
Uh oh
, thought Dix.

“We haven’t been able to get a word out of him. I’m pretty sure he knows Kovach and Calderon are dead and thinks he’s in the clear,” Petersen answered.

“Have the Feds brought out any of their top-notch interrogators?” asked Dix. He was praying they didn’t ask him to help. He was done, period, end of discussion.

“We only had one. He walked in and lasted about ten minutes before Garcia spit in his face. You know how that ended,” replied Sullivan.

Dix had a feeling he knew where the conversation was headed and he had an answer before they even asked.

“There’s no way I’m dealing with this guy. I’d like to break his neck with my own hands. But, I made a promise to my wife and kids to get home tomorrow. I’m not disappointing them again.”

“Come on Dix, we need you. This guy is the key to taking down the whole organization. We have some leads from Kovach’s notes, but without Garcia, the organization stays in place. If that happens, a new boss will be inserted and the killing will continue. We need to cripple their infrastructure,” Sullivan pleaded. She stood their shocked as Dix continued shaking his head.

“Sullivan, give us a minute,” said Petersen. She stormed out of the restaurant without looking back. Her blood boiled and she had half the mind to tell both of them off. She didn’t care how much she liked Petersen, who was he to tell her to give them a minute?

Before Petersen could start in on him, Dix said, “Don’t even bother Steve. You want to stay, have at it. I’m leaving in a few hours and I’m tired and injured. Nothing will change my mind.”

“Did I hear you correctly? You’re calling it quits and leaving every law enforcement agency in San Diego grasping at straws?”

Dix was pissed at Petersen and couldn’t believe what he just said.

“You can go to hell!” His shoulder and arm ached. He thought about all the families that were destroyed by Garcia. He thought about all the families ruined by the cartel’s drugs and violence.
They’re right
, he thought,
the whole thing will start over if someone doesn’t get this guy to talk.
He looked at his watch, did the math, and figured he’d have about an hour to try to crack one pissed off mastermind. Dix wasn’t sure what he would do if he wasn’t successful by the time he needed to catch the plane home, but he decided he needed to give it a shot.

Dix rehearsed in his head what he wanted to say while Petersen and Sullivan hammered him with information from Kovach’s file. The drive from the sushi restaurant to the location where Garcia was housed gave Sullivan and Petersen time to get Dix up to speed. Sullivan parked the car and Dix was pumped to get at Garcia. He wanted to get the interrogation over with as soon as possible.

He was escorted into a room where he could see and watch Garcia. He watched him for five minutes and determined the man was prepared to die and did not look interested in anything but dying. He sat chained to the table and chair staring at the two way mirror just grinning. Dix looked at his watch and thought,
it’s go time.

Petersen and Sullivan watched intently as Dix walked into the room. Dix could see his lip was busted and he had a black eye and was pretty sure the injuries would have happened after he was apprehended.

“Jesus, my name is Bill Dix. I’m sorry about your face and lips, would you like some ice?” Garcia stopped smiling and looked directly in his eyes.
That’s a good start
, thought Dix.

“
The
Bill Dix?” asked Garcia.

“Well as far as I know, there’s only me, but I’m sure there are others with the same name.”

“The one who took down the “Bloodhound”?”

“With the help of many other people of course.” He found it interesting just how many bad people Jim “The Bloodhound” Calhoun knew.

Garcia chuckled and got a crazy look on his face, “You’re going to need more paper and another pen. What I’m about to tell you will take all night.” The mere mention of Calhoun confirmed to Garcia that Calhoun had opened his mouth and given him up probably, he assumed, to stay alive.

Dix raised an eyebrow and looked over to the two way mirror. Garcia noticed Dix look down at his watch and cast an evil glare back in the direction of the two-way mirror again.
I’ll get some satisfaction messing with the great Bill Dix,
thought Garcia.

“And I will only talk to you, this one time, and never again,” Garcia said. Garcia knew people, and just like Calhoun, he was going to give them up in an effort to stay alive a little while longer. Soon a new cartel boss would take control and send someone to kill him while he rotted in prison. He would not have many opportunities to speak again.

Dix flipped open his note pad, looked over at the two way mirror and in a very pissed off voice said, “This is your

fault Petersen, so you get to call my wife.” Everyone cringed behind the mirror. But not as much as Garcia did as he realized he’d just pissed off the greatest adversary he’d ever meet.

Sullivan grabbed Petersen’s hand and pulled him close. She was taken by the moment, thrilled about doing such an amazing job. She embraced him and kissed him passionately; she didn’t care who was watching now. Petersen didn’t pull away and wondered if he was dreaming. His emotions were on overdrive. He felt exhilarated and never wanted to let her go.

After a few seconds she stopped and said, “Come on big guy, we’ll call Mrs. Dix together. I have a feeling you’re gonna need some backup.”

*** THE END ***

Thank you for purchasing and reading "The Cartel Enforcers". I hope you enjoyed it. Please take a moment and write a brief review on Amazon. It would be greatly appreciated.

C. L. Swinney

About the Author

Chris Swinney is currently writing fiction based on what he experiences as a homicide and narcotics investigator in the San Francisco Bay Area. As an avid reader, he began to see his passion for writing coming out in other authors' words and it motivated him to write novels.

His work has been featured in Fly Fisherman Magazine, PointsBeyond.com, Alaskan Peninsula Newspaper, and California Game & Fish Magazine. He's now a contributor to
www.PoliceOne.com
, the nation's premier law enforcement online magazine.

His debut novel, and first book in the Bill Dix series,
The Caller
, made the bestsellers paid list on Amazon in paperback, kindle, and hardcover in Crime Fiction, Mystery, and Police Procedural.

Chris donates proceeds from his sales to groups like Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF), Cancer research, and PTSD/Military support groups.

This project hits close to home for Chris because it features his mentor, Koti Fakava, who passed away leaving behind his lovely wife and five wonderful children. Proceeds from this novel will go directly to Koti's family.

Chris is a big time supporter of Teachers, Parents, Law Enforcement, Doctors, Nurses, Firemen, American Troops, Juvenile Diabetes Research, and children. He spends time volunteering for his church, at schools, he coaches, and every once in awhile he gets to go fly fishing.