Ask the Right Questions Ch. 05

Author retains all rights to this original work of fiction.

Chapter 5 of 6

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Saturday June 9th, 2:10 AM, Avondale, Arizona

Mitchell agreed to let us return to my townhouse to get the clothes I'd bought Gabriella. He let me drive us there and followed us in the two Suburban's. He was trusting me -- why?

He had requested I put my pistol in the trunk. I agreed because at this point it was dead weight unless I wanted to take on four armed agents from the US Marshal Service. At least that's who they claimed to be representing.

Somewhere along the way I was going to find out who Mitchell really worked for. I was pretty sure he had some connection to the CIA -- he mentioned Colonel Flagg. Mitchell having possibly talked to Flagg was certainly interesting and I wondered if he was part of this operation in some way. For now though, I just wanted to appear as cooperative as possible.

I powered on my phone as we left the El Oso Park parking lot and called Kovachev.

"Ruiz?"

"Can't talk long. I'm with Allen Mitchell. He says he's US Marshal Service, but he's in bed with the CIA, I think. I can't explain that right now, but he's taking Gabriella to her parents in Boulder. We're leaving from Scottsdale Airport in an hour. He's going to give up details on the abductions and how it's been 'resolved'. I think you should be there," I blurted out quickly, hoping he could meet us at the airport.

"Slow down. You're going with him to Boulder," Kovachev asked.

"Yes. It's a crazy story I can't really get into, but he says the abduction case has been 'resolved'."

"I can meet you at the airport. About Mitchell, I couldn't find any record of him working for the US Marshal Service," he said concerned.

"I didn't press for a badge, but I will ask to see it when we get to my townhouse," I replied trying to sound confident I had all the bases covered. Why hadn't I asked for that while we were talking in the parking lot? I'm slipping. Fatigue? He certainly could have produced fake badges I guess.

"If you can stall him at your townhouse, I will just meet you there."

"I don't think that's going to be possible, we're just picking up some clothes for Gabriella, you'd never make it there in time."

"Fine, I will be at the airport. I'm in Arlington. We were able to get a warrant to search the property. The dog was an issue, but we were eventually able to get into the building. You shouldn't have entered the room. The CSI team is processing evidence now. You sure you didn't touch anything?"

"Yes, and I only entered the room enough to close the door and lock it behind me. I used my shirt sleeve to do that and to turn the knob when I exited. I even used the back of my hand to turn the light on and off. I did not linger any longer than sixty seconds," I explained.

"They have found foot prints from eight different people. Also some fingerprints, but we haven't had a chance to get them run yet. Two sets were bare feet, others were tennis shoes of some type, one set of loafers, and two sets of combat boots... "

"One set of sneakers would be mine if they are looking at the doorway are, Gabriella's, the other Trans Woman are probably the bare feet, and three men who were with them. So, we've got two sets of footprints unaccounted for who likely were in the boots," I mused. "Oh, and like I said I didn't touch anything -- my prints won't be found."

"She told you about her assailants?"

"Only that there were three men, two of them Mexican, and an Asian," I replied and then thought about what Mitchell had said about the story he was offering me having 'international shit implications'. "Mitchell mentioned an international connection with these assaults, could be the Asian?"

"How does he know these things?"

"I'm not sure, but the blood you've found isn't the blood from the other Trans Woman who was with Gabriella."

"He told you that," Kovachev asked, surprised.

"Not in so many words," I replied, glancing over at Gabriella who looked shocked, maybe even worried.

"Okay, we can talk at the airport. I'll meet you there. Be aware of your surroundings Ruiz."

"I will." The line went dead.

When I put my phone down I had to explain what I found to Gabriella in the room she'd been taken too. She wasn't happy with me for withholding that information. I apologized, but told her I did that because until I knew more I didn't want her to worry that something bad had happened there to the other woman. I told her I was certain the other woman was safe.

We got to my townhouse in about twelve minutes with Mitchell's contingent right behind us the entire way. He and another agent escorted us in and allowed Gabriella to load my backpack with the few items she'd used before we went in search of the building she'd been taken to - toothbrush, makeup, and all the clothes I had bought for her.

When I grabbed my laptop I noticed the SD card adapter was missing. I looked at Gabriella and she looked away. She'd taken it, why? Insurance? Were there other things on the card?

"Why the laptop," Mitchell asked watching me with more curiosity than felt comfortable.

"I've got deadlines to meet and if you're detailing the solving of these abduction cases, I need to get ahead of it and something written," I said. All that was true and there wasn't an ulterior motive for bringing it along.

"Okay," he conceded.

"So, you work for the US Marshal Service," I asked as I was rolling up my power cord.

"I do tonight," he said fishing something from his suit jacket and holding it out for me to see.

It was an ID and badge in a leather-bound holder. It showed his name was Allen Mitchell and all the other official stuff you might expect on a government organizations credentials, including his picture. He nodded to the other agent and who produced the same type of credentials, but there was a difference between the two. Mitchell's badge said "Marshal Service Deputy" on the badge and the other agents said "Marshal Service Marshal".

I wasn't positive, but assumed Mitchell was functioning as a deputized member of the US Marshal Service at the moment. He likely worked for another agency and this was his way to be 'legal' functioning within the US outside of that agency, which was likely the CIA. Probably why Kovachev couldn't find anything on him with whomever / however he tried to run a check on him.

"Thank you for that, good to know we're all here on the up and up," I commented, "We ready?"

"Just waiting on you," Mitchell said.

"You promise to get Kara back to the shelter," I asked.

"Yeah, we'll get her back," he said impatiently.

Were all my bases all covered? God I hoped so...

Saturday June 9th, 2:49 AM, Scottsdale Airport, Arizona

We made better time to the airport than I expected we would and the Learjet we'd likely be flying on had just finished taking on fuel. The tanker truck pulled away as we came to a stop a hundred feet from where the jet sat. No Kovachev. I looked around and wondered how I was going to delay us leaving without having a confrontation with Mitchell or tipping him off to my asking Kovachev to meet me here.

"Wait here," Mitchell said over his shoulder as he and the other agent both exited the vehicle and began speaking to the agents in the other Suburban.

I leaned over to Gabriella and whispered, "You took the SD card?"

She nodded after a moment.

"Is there something else going on here that I should know about?"

She took my hand and I felt the adapter, "Keep this - they cannot access their account without you," she whispered in my ear.

"What does that mean?"

"Two factor authentication, I changed that while you were getting ready earlier and used your phone number. The site will send you a six-digit access code necessary to complete the login process. They have the initial password for the login credentials we agreed upon, but I changed the two-factor authentication to keep them honest. These accounts are very secure that way."

Shit! Why involve me? Why give me the access information or make me a key player in this mess?

Then I thought about it a little more - she was trying to protect herself and her family from the devil. She might have just outsmarted them with that move or at least insured some concessions for access to that pile of money. On the flip side, I really didn't want any further involvement with whatever these two sides of the operation were up too or that third party - Corbino.

Saturday June 9th, 2:56 AM, Scottsdale Airport, Arizona

Mitchell returned to our vehicle and opened the door for Gabriella, "Alright, we're good to go."

Gabriella looked back at me as if needing my approval to get out to the Suburban.

"Our destination is still Boulder," I asked trying to delay, hoping Kovachev would show any second.

"Yes, that's where our assets are, her family," he looked away to watch the other Suburban begin to drive away, "Detective Kovachev won't be joining us I'm afraid. He's been called back to the crime scene in Arlington. The agents," he nodded toward the Suburban pulling away, "Will brief him as I will be briefing you. If you'd have asked, I could have saved him some time heading this way."

Shit!

"Yeah, well ferrying us away without anyone knowing seemed like a risk I wasn't willing to take," I said not hiding that I was annoyed.

Mitchell chuckled, "You act as though I'm the bad guy here Ruiz. I assure you I've been on the level with you about everything and will continue that until I either can't trust you or we run into details that you shouldn't be privy too."

If the shoe was on the other foot, you'd be making all kinds of noise about getting flown away to a 'supposed' destination. Asshole...

"Can I call my lawyer?"

"Not sure what that's going to get you, but if it will make you feel better, go ahead," he replied as if it wasn't a big deal.

I opened my door and stepped out, dialed Lena, two rings later a sleepy voice answered, "Cass?"

"Hey, sorry to wake you, but this story took a crazy,"

She interrupted me, "Are you alright? Where are you?"

I could hear and feel the panic in her voice, "I'm fine, but I'm with a US Marshal Service guy named Allen Mitchell. I saw his badge; he's a US Marshal Service Deputy. The number on his badge was 3118. The twist to all this is I think he's actually CIA..."

She interrupted me again, "CIA?! What the hell Cass!" She was completely awake now judging by her tone and the unhappy inflection blaring from the phone pressed against my ear.

"I know, I know. Long story that I can't really get into - but I'm going to take some pictures and text them to you. I'm getting on a jet bound for Boulder Colorado to reunite Gabriella with her parents. I had contacted Detective Kovachev to meet me, but they or someone squashed him coming along. I'm not comfortable with any of this, but felt like I needed someone outside this circle of cloak and dagger crap to know,"

"NO! Don't even think about getting on that plane Cass! And don't let Gabriella either. I can make a few calls, roust a judge for a protection order for both of you to slow these people down," she complained. "Where are you?"

"I think if this was a bigger problem than it appears on the surface, they would have just taken Gabriella from me already. This Mitchell guy is offering me the real story about these abductions and what happened to the other Trans Woman who was with her."

"You're risking the safety of both of you for a 'hope' of a story? Seriously, Cass," she asked, the disappointment in her voice was thick.

"I know it sounds crazy, but he says he's talked to a CIA agent I worked with when I was in the Army. I can try to reach out to him," I pause to see Gabriella walking with Mitchell towards the jet. She was looking at her phone, "Shit!"

"What now," Lena barked.

My phone vibrated and I looked to see a text message with a six-digit account verification code. Someone was trying to access the government account.

"The guy is walking Gabriella towards the jet. I have to go," I complained.

"Cass, this isn't a good idea. Let me at least make some calls, stall them, please," she pleaded.

"I think it's too late. I'll send you some pictures. I... I appreciate everything you've done for me."

"God damn it Cass! This isn't 'Goodbye' don't even give me that... Get me those pictures. Get a number I can reach this 'Mitchell' guy or your CIA guy from the Army. Cass," her voice became quiet, "Don't do this... I can come get you."

Gabriella and Mitchell were at the stairs to the jet, "I'm sorry, I gotta go. I'll get you pictures and a number, I'm so sorry Lena..." My heart sunk and a lump in my throat made it difficult to speak anymore.

"Cass...," she whined.

"I gotta go...," I said choking up and killed the connection before she could reply.

I pulled up the camera on my phone and took pictures of the Suburban's rear plate and the tail letters of the jet. Unless these things were both fake - they would be something someone could use to track us. They had to file a flight plan, we would be in shared / controlled airspace over Phoenix, and there would be a trail that could be followed. Of course, I could be fooling myself, especially if Mitchell was really working for the CIA. I texted the pictures to Lena as I walked towards the jet.

A few seconds later she texted, "I'm making calls now. I'll see what I can get on these. Be careful. DON'T turn your phone off!"

I put my phone in my pocket after reading her message, but it vibrated again. I looked at it quickly, another verification code.

Saturday June 9th, 3:09 AM, Scottsdale Airport, Arizona

The inside of the jet wasn't expansive, but it was certainly plush. Leather swivel captains' seats that reclined and had foot rests that extended with plenty of leg room all around and wood paneling throughout. Opulent for the vibe I was getting off of Mitchell.

Once we were all seated, one of the two flight crew pulled the door shut, and the engines began to spin up. I'd flown many times while on ops in the Army - noisy Air Force hops on their C-17 Globemaster', C-5 Galaxy', and even a couple C-130 Hercules. This flight would be the plushest I'd ever taken.

Being 'Airborne' qualified meant I'd jumped out of many airplanes - which I was sure wasn't on the flight plan today - given the cabin would be pressurized. I felt a little caged at the moment. Was chasing this story a mistake? I needed to see Gabriella make it out of this, right? Get the real story?

I watched Mitchell pull his phone out, read something, then get up and head towards the front of the jet. He was speaking to the pilots, but I couldn't make out what was being said.

"Someone tried to access the account," I said quietly to Gabriella.

"Yes, I acted as though it hadn't been sent to my phone yet, though it was supposed to go to another number. I said it was supposed to come to mine," she replied in a whisper with a hint of a smirk.

"They are going to figure out something is up. Then...," I stopped speaking when the conversation Mitchell was having ended and he returned to his seat. Change of plans? I decided to probe.

"What's up?"

"Unexpected detour. I'd prefer you didn't share that with that with your lawyer friend, in fact," he said reaching out, "I'd like to hold both of your phones for the duration of the flight. You'll get them back once we get to Boulder, but right now I'd like to control the flow of information," he said holding his hand out to take our phones.

Gabriella looked at me and when I didn't move, she offered hers to Mitchell.

"Where are we going now," I asked.

"Quick trip to Mexico," he said casually.

Gabriella looked panicked and I'm sure Mitchell caught the concern.

"I assume this is a necessary detour, especially given one part of your assets family is quite valuable to the shit head you guys ripped off in Mexico last night. I would think Gabriella being anywhere near Mexico right now is a bad idea." I had to pause a second to think about this -- was I also bait or in danger?

"Noted. We're picking up other assets. Let's just call it a reunion of sorts. And as far as the 'shit head' worrying about her family," he gestured towards Gabriella, "They think they were blown up in a vehicle -- so they aren't actively searching for them."

"Yeah, but they know they've been ripped off and Gabriella could have information on that. You can't tell me they aren't looking for her right now, if for nothing else to have someone to throw their angst at. How about Gabriella and I get off this jet and you can go down there. We'll wait at my townhouse with the Marshals," the jets engine began to whine loudly and we started moving.

"Might be a little late for that," he said chuckling, "I can see why Flagg likes you Ruiz. Phone, please."

He'd mention Flagg again, had he talked to him or was he just fucking with me? I saw his extended hand beckon for my phone. Shit! I had the latest Apple iPhone and short of Mitchell having access to the 'Hide UI' app or the Grayshift device to connect my phone too, he wasn't getting into it without my cooperation -- unless I was forced.

I was worried about the two-factor identification Gabriella had set up to use my phone number and Mitchell seeing a pop-up message on my screen, so I turned my phone off before handing it to him.

"What's in Mexico we need to be reunited with," I asked annoyed.

"I told you, picking up assets. A little something for the both of you actually..."

Gabriella looked at me worried, "Knock it off Mitchell. Why are you taking us to Mexico," I barked at him.

"We're extracting Flagg and Eduardo Caesar Lopez."

Gabriella took in an audible breath, "Eduardo?"

I looked at her, "You know this person?"

"He is a close family friend," she said. There was no mistaking the connection and I wondered if this was the older man she said she had feelings for.

"This is Flagg's operation," I asked.

Mitchell only nodded. Guess I didn't need to reach out to Flagg after all - of course now I could add more anxiety to an already full bucket of worries that was beginning to spill over. A reunion with someone from my past -- could this day get any worse?

I was a completely different person from what he would remember. It was going to be awkward no matter how much either of us put the past behind us and focused on the operation at hand. Stay focused on the end game - it's going to be what it's going to be with Flagg. He'll understand. Maybe...

Saturday June 9th, 4:01 AM, Mar de Cortés International Airport, Puerto Peñasco

It felt like no sooner had we reached a cruising altitude that we were descending. Mitchell hadn't shared where we were going and I had no idea what airports were however many miles south of Phoenix and into Mexico we'd just flown.

Why hadn't I asked him? I was tired and had let my guard down. I was never like this in the Army while on an op. Fatigue during operations tended to get people killed or injured. Okay, focus... I wasn't that person anymore, I'm not operational or an operative. I've moved on! Yet, I did need to be sharper than I'd been operating. FUCK!

We'd be on the ground shortly given my view outside the window and popping ears. The jet was beginning to make a wide banking turn close to some coastline I guessed, the view had changed from twinkling city or town lights to an expanse of black which would most likely be the Pacific or maybe even the Gulf of California. I should have asked where we were going. Focus...

On what I assumed was the final approach given the angle of attack -- compared to the darkness and lights below - the small jet ran into some pretty good cross winds buffeting it around uncomfortably. By the look on Gabriella's face, she did not like the controlled chaos that was bring the jet in for a landing. I think we were all happy to hear the screeching of the tires on the tarmac and to be on the ground when it was all over.