The Real Estate Connection Ch. 08

"Where is Simmons now?"

"He moves around every day. I actually don't know where he is but I do know where he's not. He's not here in Richmond. He contacts me by cell phone. There is no set schedule… he just calls me whenever he has a job for me. The calls are short… just a set of instructions, a meeting place, or instructions to check my email. Sometimes he uses text messages." Grant was watching Ramirez intently through the whole exchange. Once in a while he would look at me and give me a short nod or thumbs up indicating that he was telling the truth, but really I didn't need the independent confirmation. Everything Ramirez said made sense. Simmons wouldn't risk staying in Richmond, and he sure as hell wouldn't stay in one place too long. Not with me hunting him.

"You said you had coffee with him this morning. Where did you meet?"

"There's a Seven-Eleven between here and Langley. I met him there." Now how's that for irony? It was the same place Lee and I had stopped for coffee on the way back from our chat with Carmichael at CIA headquarters.

"How did he look?" Ramirez gave me a funny look. "Did he look like he's been roughing it or did he look fresh? Do you think he was living out of motels or out of his car?"

"Aaah… I see. He was unshaved and looked as if he had slept in his clothes. You think he might be hiding out in the woods?" I made no comment.

"Was this morning the first time you've met him to discuss the job?" Grant asked.

"No I've met him a few times." He looked uncomfortable and I had an idea why.

"You always meet at the same place don't you? Always at the Seven-Eleven?" He didn't answer. "I asked you a question Ramirez." Still no answer. He was digging his heels in. This would be where he tried to make a deal to make things a little better for him on the back end of this interrogation. Time to reinforce our position.

"Give him a shot Grant." I stood and backed out of the way as Grant moved back to his bag of goodies and grabbed the hypodermics. Ramirez went pale again.

"No! Okay I'll talk… just don't shoot me up!" I wondered at his fear of the drugs… or was it fear of Grant. "Yes I always meet him at the Seven-Eleven. The same one every time." He hung his head in defeat. Grant put the syringes back on the towel.

"Okay now here comes the biggie. Why is it so important for Simmons to eliminate me? How does it tie in with Colombia?"

"Simmons had his own game going on down in Colombia. He was skimming cash and drugs after your team hit a lab or departure point. He's got a good little business going down there… and up here. I was recruited early. Others he picked up along the way. Sometimes you'd hit a lab that was actually infiltrated by Simmons' crew so after the dust had cleared your body count would always be a little off. Simmons would spirit his boys out of the area and add them to the body count total. When you decided to retire he was relieved. He figured that he could just make a deal with whoever took over your team and carry on as before but without the worry of getting caught by you. Your problem Miller was that you were too honest. Simmons could have made you a very rich man."

"I am a very rich man. And I've made my money honestly without having to prostitute my soul like you parasites. Carry on."

"What Simmons didn't know was that Carmichael was going to approach you and ask you to do an analysis of the CIA's operations down in Colombia. Carmichael naturally briefed him on it since Simmons was one of his most senior operators in Colombia. That was when he contacted me and my team. He couldn't afford the risk of allowing you to go over the information the CIA had on your operations. You were bound to see discrepancies. He had to get rid of you." He stopped and licked his dry lips.

"Hemi could you grab Julio a drink of water? There's a bottle in my Tahoe… give him that." Hemi hurried off to get the water.

"One more question then we'll take a break. Are Sam and Hemi working with Simmons?" As horrible as the thought was I had to know for certain.

"Not as far as I know." Ramirez looked thoughtful. "I know there are others working for Simmons here in the USA but I don't know if he has anyone else on the job of eliminating you… and I don't know if Hemi and Sam are part of his crew." I believed him. Grant and I moved away leaving him to himself for a while. When Hemi returned with the water I cut the plastic ties which had bound him since we had snatched him that morning. He winced and massaged his wrists as the blood flowed back into his hands. It was a few minutes before he could hold the bottle which Hemi passed to him. As he took advantage of the respite I took out my cell phone and called Stevie.

"Hello you sexy man. How are you Craig?" There was a mixture of teasing and concern in her voice. She knew that what I was doing didn't come easily to me.

"I'm okay Kitten. Just thought I'd check in and see how you guys are doing."

"We're having a ball here baby. The gym is all set up and Mike and the guy from the store left a few minutes ago. Mike wants an invite to come out and use the gear. Becky and Matt arrived about half an hour ago so we're all just sitting around having a few quiet drinks and shooting the breeze. Grant's wife Angela is a real honey. What time do you think you'll be back baby?" Her rambling quick fire chat was an indicator of how much this was affecting her.

"Honey I'm not sure how much longer I'll be, but I can tell you I have a lot of answers to a lot of questions. I'm not going to go into detail now but we are in a hell of a better position than what we were this morning. I love you Stevie." I heard her breath catch in a small sob as she expressed her relief. "Now what are you folks gonna do while we're toiling away down in the dungeon?" She laughed… just a short laugh but it was a relief to hear; it served to lighten my mood too even though I still had a little more work to do on Ramirez.

"Well by the looks of things we're going to have a full house tonight. Becky and Matt arrived with food, I'm assuming that Grant and Angela are staying, and KJ and Brian are going to stay overnight too. I think we've got enough beds as long as Hemi and Sam don't mind sharing a room. I think we'll do the barbeque thing again tonight hon. Then I want an early night… just you and me… okay?" It sounded heavenly and I told her so. After a little more murmured chat I told her I loved her again then rang off. I walked back to Ramirez who was still sitting on the chair under the watchful eyes of Hemi and Grant.

"A couple more questions then we're finished. Is Carmichael involved?" Ramirez sighed then looked me square in the eyes.

"Before I answer any more of your questions I'm going to ask one of my own. What happens to me once you've finished here today?" Good question. Things had proceeded so fast that this was something I hadn't given a lot of thought to. I did, however, have an inkling of an idea.

"You'll live. Now answer the question before that changes." He glared at me before answering.

"As far as I know Carmichael isn't involved. This is a job that Simmons was running as an independent. If Carmichael had known about it there would be no way you'd still be alive. You're good Miller but not that good. Hemi or Sam could have taken you out any time since they joined you if Carmichael was involved. Or you would have been taken out on your trip to Langley the other day."

"Okay so if Carmichael isn't involved and you've only met with Simmons at the Seven-Eleven, why do you carry a CIA keycard?" He grinned.

"I stole it from Simmons a while back. I've held on to it trying to figure out a use for it… or rather a time to use it. To be able to use it properly it has to be used in conjunction with a thumbprint, but that is easy to fake. I got his prints a while ago from a glass he used and copied the print, then transferred it to a latex skin. Now all I have to do is pass his card through the scanner and press the copy of his thumbprint against the print reader and I'm in." The plan was basic and lacking in finesse but the scary thing about it was that it would probably work. None of the personnel I had seen on our trip to Langley the other day had needed to give an iris scan or even a voice print ID. Thumbprint and card had been all the ID they needed.

"One more question then we're finished. Is the local police chief in on this? Chief Wallace?" The answer unfortunately didn't surprise me.

"Yes he is. Simmons paid him off. I understand he grabbed your guns. Must be hard to defend your home with no weapons." His smile was nasty but I could expect no less. I had decided what to do about our homicidal friend.

"Ramirez I'm gonna let you go now. Remember that I could have killed you as easily as swatting a fly. I know that you're not the sentimental type but think about this. We know who is after us now and why. We know most of what we need to know to get hold of Simmons before he hits us and I also know that Simmons won't be too happy to find out how I know. My advice to you would be to take the money that Simmons has given you so far and get the fuck out of Dodge. It won't take Simmons long to figure out who gave him up and when he does your life aint gonna be worth a teaspoon of spit. Take the money and run… because if I ever see you again… I'll blow your fucking brains out." With that I turned and left the basement. It was a huge relief to get out into the sunshine. The fresh air seemed to wash away the grime of the basement leaving me feeling refreshed. Grant joined me a few minutes later.

"Hemi is gonna drive Ramirez into town Craig. Look are you sure you're doing the right thing by letting him go? He'll probably head straight for Simmons and let him know what went down today."

"No… that's the last thing he'd do. Simmons would kill him just for getting caught. If he's smart, which I think he is, he'll pack up his tent and fuck off really quick. Come on… let's get out of here. Stevie's got a barbeque planned and apparently you and Angela are staying with us for the night."

Ten minutes later Grant and I were climbing out of the Tahoe and heading for a very rowdy pool party led by a scantily clad KJ and an equally near naked Becky. KJ was perched on Brian's shoulders wrestling with Becky who was riding a laughing Matt. The speakers had been dragged out again and it seemed that Heavy Metal was the order of the day. Metallica's Nothing Else Matters accompanied the laughter from the pool. For once my sweet innocent Stevie wasn't involved; she was sitting off to one side chatting quietly to Angela. Whatever the topic it was serious. Stevie looked intent… and almost despondent. Her face lit up a bit when she saw me and Grant coming across the lawn. Stevie leapt to her feet and rushed to meet me, flinging herself into my arms and showering my face with kisses.

"I was so worried. You okay honey?" There were unasked questions in her eyes. Stevie was dreading what the interrogation might have done to me.

"I'm fine baby and getting better by the moment. Listen everything is gonna be okay. Not a greasy hair on Ramirez's oily head was harmed and we got more info than we ever thought we would. I know you're worried about me but Kitten it's gonna be okay. For the first time since this thing started we have the upper hand. I'm going to go and make a few phone calls. It's about time we freed up some assets so we can go on the offensive. I'm sick of being on the back foot all the time so I'm going to call in an old friend to look after home base while I go hunting. I'll be back in a minute honey." With that I turned and walked into the library to call an old friend. Stevie hesitated for a minute then followed me in, parking her cute ass on my lap as I called Glenn Barrett.

"Barrett Security, Manny Salvatore speaking. How can I help you?" It was a voice from the past and knowing that Manny was still working with Glenn gave me a huge boost of confidence.

"How you doing you greasy wop bastard?" My greeting drew a shocked gasp from Stevie and a speculative silence on the other end of the line. "What's the matter… cat got your tongue lardass?"

"There's only one man who would dare think he could get away with that shit. That you Ronin?" God I hadn't heard that nickname for years and it produced a flood of nostalgia and a wry grin.

"You still owe me twenty bucks Manny but I'll settle for a six pack and a burger. Yeah it's me. How you doing? You guys busy?"

"As busy as a new girl in a Chinese brothel buddy. What the hell are you up to these days? Last I heard you were south of the border fighting the good fight against the cartels. You still in that business?"

"Actually I'm back to being a PFC now Manny… a Private Fucking Civilian, and I've got a wee problem you might be able to help out with. Is Glenn around? I've got some work for you if you're interested" It was getting hard to hold the phone and Stevie so I put the call on speaker and hung up the handset.

"Actually Ronin, he's at the hospital being checked out. He got shot a while back. We've got a situation of our own. Glenn's got a problem with his girlfriend, Carol's, ex husband who happens to be a low level lieutenant in the New Jersey mob. Things have become a little hectic around here. What's your problem man?"

I took the next 10 minutes to explain our situation and Manny and I both marveled at the parallels. When I finished there was a short silence while Manny mulled over the information I'd given him.

"There might be a silver lining to this cloud Ronin. If we consolidate then you might be able to help us out with our problem too. And coming to Richmond would put a few miles between us and Carol's psychotic ex. Glenn's head over heel's for this woman and I can't blame him. She's a doll. Besides I can't wait to meet this Stevie. There has to be something severely wrong with her mental wiring if she's hooked up with a clown like you but I'll reserve judgment until I meet her. It might be good for her and Carol to get together… sort of like a mini support team." Stevie's spluttering laughter finally reached Manny and there was a long embarrassed silence. "She's there with you isn't she? She heard every word I said didn't she?"

"Hello Manny. I won't hold it against you… much." Stevie's comment was delivered in her sweetest tones.

"Oh shit. Hello Stevie. Sorry about the defective mental wiring comment. I'm gonna suffer aren't I Ronin?" All I could do was grin.

"Yup. She's a wildcat buddy so I'd guess that you're gonna suffer big time. Okay I'd better get going. Could you talk to Glenn about this and get him to call me tomorrow?" I gave him my number and with goodbye's out of the way I rang off. Stevie snuggled in to my chest and for a while we just sat there cuddling.

"So… Ronin… where does that come from?" I was instantly embarrassed. I had been given the nickname when I served with Manny and Glenn in the Army.

"A Ronin was a Samurai without a master. He still had a very strict code of honor but was free to roam the land as a mercenary. When I was in the Army the guys thought it suited me so it stuck. God I haven't been called that for years." Again the nostalgia washed over me and I spent a few minutes revisiting good old memories. Stevie was content to just snuggle. Finally I came back top the present.

"So what were you and Angela talking about?" She sat up with an excited grin on her face.

"Security! Honey we're going to get a dog. We have the room and the need and I just love dogs. We have a meeting at 6pm with a breeder who trains guard dogs. There's no point arguing, I've made up my mind!" Actually it was a damned good idea and I told her so. The only problem I could see was the type of dog Stevie would want. I could picture her picking a Scotch Terrier or a similar toy dog. Still it was only an appointment to check the place and the dogs out. I checked my watch and discovered that it was five o'clock already. We'd have to leave soon if we were going to make it.

"I'm going to go and freshen up then we'll go, okay honey? Oh and I asked Angela to come along too. She's got a guard dog at home." I had no problem with that. I hadn't really had any time to get to meet her so this would be a good opportunity. As Stevie scampered upstairs to 'freshen up', I wandered outside to join the party. The battle for supremacy of the pool was still raging between KJ and her mount and Becky and hers and it seemed to be a fairly even match. I found a cooler of cokes and beers in between the loungers that Grant and Angela were relaxing on and snagged a coke.

"I hear that you're getting a dog", Grant deadpanned. I shot him a mock sour glare while Angela giggled. "Angela tells me we're coming to help you choose it. Personally I recommend a Chihuahua. Savage little bastards those toy dogs; they'll rip your throat out once they figure out how to reach it. I've always been very wary of Chihuahuas carrying ladders." He nodded sagely as I sipped my coke and glared at him again. He just laughed. Hemi arrived back and wandered over to join the group, snagging a beer from the cooler. It took only a few discrete sentences for him to let me know that Ramirez was heading for the hills. It didn't matter any more what he told Simmons if he contacted him again. Now we knew what we'd be up against. He finished his beer then left to grab Sam and head into town. It seemed that his cute S.W.A.T. officer had a friend and we weren't to wait up for them.

It didn't take long for Stevie to get ready and a few minutes later we were off to see a man about a dog, Stevie riding with Angela in the rear of the Tahoe, and Grant up front with me. The ribbing and speculation about the size and breed of dog continued all the way to our destination which turned out to be a small picturesque farm on the outskirts of Richmond. The sign on the gate read 'Mr. Fong's Guard Dog Kennels'. We parked by the large double garage beside the house. A small office was attached to the garage and as we got out of the car a man emerged from the office followed closely by a beautiful German Shepherd. Mr. Fong was in his late 30's and showed no trace at all of any Asian genes. His smile was open and friendly as he walked to meet us, hand outstretched in greeting. As we shook hands and introduced ourselves the dog was watching intently. I knew that any wrong move and that large ball of bone muscle fur and teeth would be on us like white on rice. It appeared that Stevie had organized more than just the appointment time.

"I had a think about your needs based on what you told me on the phone and I think I have just the dogs for you," Mr. Fong said as we followed him down a tree bordered path to a row of tidy buildings with high steel mesh fencing around them. Dogs? Plural? I cast a questioning glance at Stevie but she avoided my eye. Still I was quite happy to see where this would lead.

The dog runs were spacious and clean and to my great relief there wasn't a Chihuahua in sight. German Shepherds and Rottwielers seemed to be the breeds of choice at Mr. Fong's. Grant and Angela stayed back at the end of the path while we walked a further 50 yards to the pens. All the dogs were juveniles but past the puppy stage, all seemed happy and very well cared for and all were silent but alert as we approached their home. We stopped in front of the cages and surveyed the smiling happy dog faces as Mr. Fong explained his training methods and aims for his dogs. As soon as he started talking I realized we were in the presence of a master. Mr. Fong detested the punishment method of training; that is where the dog gets punished for getting its task wrong. He was a firm believer in the positive reinforcement method where the dog was rewarded and encouraged when it got the task right. As he talked he pulled a lever attached to the end cage and the doors of the runs opened. The dogs just sat there making no move to leave the runs until Mr. Fong slapped his thigh and gave a short whistle. Then it degenerated into a dog pile up with Mr. Fong being swarmed with happy barking Shepherds and Rottwielers. We were totally ignored by the pack until Stevie kneeled down on the grass and gave a soft whistle. One of the Shepherds peeled off from the melee and wandered over to investigate the interloper. Stevie showed me immediately that she was used to dogs by remaining still and holding out her hands palms down for the dog to sniff. She kept her head down but kept eye contact with the beautiful dog while it decided whether or not Stevie was a human it could trust. Apparently Stevie passed the inspection and seconds later she was sprawled backwards, giggling on the ground as the dog licked her face and arms. While Stevie was making friends another Shepherd wandered over, this one a little larger and more serious in demeanor. It stepped up to me and stood gazing up at me. Slowly I squatted and let the large animal sniff and lick my hands as he got to know me. He too seemed to be satisfied with my credentials and shuffled closer and sat down as I tickled him behind the ears. Unless I missed my guess, we had made our selection. Mr. Fong seemed to think so too. As I stood up the dog moved in until he was pressed against my leg facing outward as if on the lookout for some unseen threat.