Ask the Right Questions Ch. 06

Author retains all rights to this original work of fiction.

FINAL CHAPTER

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Saturday, June 9th, 6:51 AM, 53 miles South, Southwest of Boulder, CO

The engines throttling back woke me. Flagg was watching me get my bearings, then raised a bottle of water to his lips and finished it off.

"Get a good rest?"

Those anxious feelings I had prior to meeting Flagg all came rushing back as if I were slapped with them all over again. My stomach felt queasy, and I could only nod in reply. I was surprised I slept, but happy to get a little bit of recharging for my nearly depleted batteries.

"We should be on the ground in fifteen minutes," he said, looking out the window. "The safe house is about thirty minutes outside of the city, an old ski cabin."

"Boulder, Sir?"

"You really aren't very trusting, Cass; why wouldn't we be landing in Boulder?"

"I don't know Sir, its," I looked over towards Gabriella and Eduardo and said, "There's a lot on the line and a lot of money. I saw the transfers happening; she nearly got to every account."

I didn't want to say more about this and have to dodge questions or say something without at least speaking to Gabriella. I looked at her; she was listening to the exchange and nodded. If we ended up with her parents, moot point; anything less and it could be a problem for all of us.

"We're landing in Boulder Cass; I gave you my word on that," he said.

"I know, Sir... I'm just not operational; it's been a while."

That was so true; would he fault me for all the tactical mistakes I had made these last twenty-plus hours? Was that an acceptable excuse, being out of the game for so long? It certainly didn't make me feel better to need to rely on an excuse. I felt like I'd let him down, which is stupid...

"Understood," he looked towards Gabriella and, in Spanish, said, "We are bringing you to your parents, they are being well cared for and are safe. When you're satisfied that we've delivered on our promise to safely extract your family from Mexico, we're going to need access to those accounts."

In perfect English, she replied, "I understand, but your government will need to include Eduardo in their offer for protection. He cannot return to Mexico."

"I believe he wants to stick it out with you and your family, correct, Eduardo?" Flagg asked in English.

"Yes, I would like to be included in their arrangement," he said quietly, maybe a little unsure of himself.

"I figured as much and have the bandwidth to make that happen easily enough. You're all safe, and Corbino will likely be out of the picture within a week thanks to your families' help. That's a lot of gun, drug, and sex trafficking removed from getting across our border."

Saturday, June 9th, 7:19 AM, Boulder, CO

Wheels on the ground, the tiny jet made its way to a large, unmarked hanger near the west side of the airport, next to one that said 'Brungard Aviation'. I could see a group of three black Suburbans waiting and six agents milling about. Flagg was also watching out the window, so I decided to ask about them.

"Marshals?"

"Yes, the team is on 'loan' to them while we're stateside."

"Understood, Sir..."

Mitchell appeared from the cockpit, smiling like a little kid. He looked over at Flagg and said, "Nice landing, eh?"

"Don't tell me they let you fly this thing again," he said, chuckling.

"Okay, I won't tell you that. Good landing, though, right?"

"Any landing you can walk away from is a good one, Mitchell," he replied.

"Ha ha... Screw you!"

Their playful banter continued with a few more digs at Mitchell's expense, but was quickly set aside once the plane came to a stop and the engines were spinning down. We were ushered off the jet and secured in the middle Suburban of the caravan. No one said much of anything, and we were moving towards the airport's exit in under a minute.

To set everyone at ease, each of the Marshals in our Suburban flashed their badges; all of them were "Marshal Service Marshal" not "Marshal Service Deputy" as Mitchell's credentials were. I was positive now that this was the legal way Flagg's team could operate on US soil and not have some case, they were supporting interagency, thrown out of court. Sneaky, but I would expect nothing less from the Colonel. I'd be interested in seeing his credentials, maybe stop calling him Colonel Flagg and get his real name after all these years.

Saturday, June 9th, 8:01 AM, West Boulder, CO

We eventually got out of Boulder proper and began heading west on Highway 119, getting off of that onto Four Mile Canyon Drive and exiting that onto a dirt road that ran next to a closed yoga studio and a lodge called Boulderhaus. The dirt road took us up the north side of a canyon to a non-descript house at the end of the road. There were two other Suburbans parked out front when we arrived.

The Marshals exited first, and when they were happy with their perimeter security, we were escorted into the house. Inside, the reunion between Gabriella's parents and both her and Eduardo was heartwarming, if not a bit loud, and emotionally charged. Tears were flowing, and I felt a deep pang of jealousy that she had such a secure and supportive relationship with her parents. Mine were...

"You okay?" Flagg asked quietly as we watched the reunion from a few feet back.

"Yeah, I'm good, Sir." Was I wearing my reaction to this reunion that openly?

"Mind if we talk?" he asked, nodding toward a hallway that looked to go past the kitchen to a back door.

"Sure..."

I followed him to the door and took a seat on the patio. He looked at me for a moment, and then said, "We'd really appreciate your help with Gabriella and securing the account. No BS, Cass, short hairs are getting pulled pretty hard right now."

He sounded worried, and I would be too if there were over three hundred and two million dollars on the line. It was way more money on the line than the op that led to my medical discharge from the Army. In the scope of what I assumed were our national interests, this op had people's attention up his chain of command. Even with the slight detour it took with a couple Trans Women being abducted.

"You've delivered, Sir, I'll assist. But I'd like to speak with Gabriella alone, you good with that?"

He nodded and said, "Get the account secured, and I'll push the Corbino story access. I was thinking you could tie Corbino to the human trafficking of the women that were abducted. You can't pin anything on Bobby, but it does shed some light on the dangers to your community and how the border is less secure than it should be..."

"That's a good angle, certainly, Thank you for the consideration, Sir. I'd like my phone, I need to check in with some people."

He hesitated, saying, "I'm fine with that, Cass, but you can't tell Ms. Cantor or Detective Kovachev anything about Corbino. You might not want to give either of them our address, either. You want to say Gabriella is safe and the story has a finite ending; I can authorize that. Anything else," he paused, "Operationally could cause the team some problems, understood?"

"I do, Sir, I just want to check in to calm some nerves. No mention of your team."

He pulled my phone from his coat pocket and handed it over.

"I figured that request was coming," he said, smiling.

I pressed the power button; it began to boot. They hadn't thought to check my phone after I'd handed it over to Mitchell, and since Flagg was still asking for my help, whoever had used my phone as a tracking device wasn't actively keeping tabs on the messages being sent to it. That means I had a sliver of leverage, at least until someone woke up and realized I was gaming Flagg.

"We've got two Spec Ops guys out there someplace," he said, waving his hand towards the mountainside. "Don't go wandering off."

"Yes, Sir... Two quick calls, and then I'll get you the account access."

"I'd appreciate that, Cass. There is a time crunch," he said with the slightest hint of stress in his voice as he got up and headed towards the patio door.

I nodded that I understood and watched him enter the house. When I was alone, I pulled up my text messages: four text messages with two-factor authentication codes, two messages from Lena, and one from Kovachev. There were at least that many missed calls from both of them and voice mails. I started with Lena...

The line began to ring, and I heard, "Cass! Where are you? Are you alright?!"

"I'm safe, and so are Gabriella and her family. I can't really expand on that, but I would guess I'll be back in Phoenix later today..."

"Good! Something isn't right with this story, Cass; something bigger must be going on," she rattled off quickly, maybe a bit panicked. "I contacted Judge Baton and Ninth District Court Judge Billington and got warned that I needed to back away from getting involved. I know these judges personally, Cass, and they wouldn't talk to me... They were warning me off. What the hell is going on?"

"I can't say much, but there are international implications, and everything has worked itself out. We're with the US Marshal Service right now, and like I said, I can't see why I won't be home later today, probably tonight. I'll let you know when I know something firm on that."

"Okay, well, that's good news and all, but you need to be careful, Cass. I've been worried sick since you called this morning," she complained. "And you turned your damn phone off!"

"I know, you said not to do that, but I'll explain why it was necessary when I see you, promise. I'm so sorry I involved you, Lena. I promise to make it up to you." I gulped -- here comes the hard part: "I hate to do this, but I really need to go. This was the first chance I got to make any calls, and you were my first call. I promise to make it up to you..."

"Three promises in the span of ten seconds? You're going to owe me more than a nice dinner, Ms. Ruiz," she said, trying to sound less worried, but I could still hear it in her voice - the concern hadn't waned.

"I would really like that, dinner and owing you." My heart was swelling, and I felt that lump in my throat grow.

"Don't turn your damn phone off this time!"

"I'll do my best... Talk to you soon..."

Saturday, June 9th, 8:23 AM, West Boulder, CO

"Ruiz? Where are you?"

"Boulder." He already knew that was where I was going with Mitchell, so it wasn't a tactical slip. "Hopefully, I'll be back in Phoenix later today. I wanted to call and let you know Gabriella is safe and I've been briefed on the abduction story, but before I get my story updated for your PIO," I left out needing the State Department's blessing if I was given the go-ahead to wrap Corbino in this story, "I'm wondering if you could tell me what you were told by the Marshal Service?"

He hesitated a second as if considering my request, but parroted back to me the same story Flagg had laid at my feet. "Did they tell you differently?" he asked when done.

"No... That's exactly what I was told," I said, wondering how far I could push him for information without showing him any of my cards.

"This whole case doesn't feel right. The two Mexicans who were killed in the raid on that building where they held Gabriella led us nowhere -- no gang affiliations, no cartel connections, nothing. There will be no inquiry into the 'justification' of those deaths either, which in this day and age is generally problematic for law enforcement. But this case feels like more is going on. In fact, it's been my experience that when you've got nothing on the surface, it means the bulk of the iceberg is under water and unseen. It's unlikely the two men killed were the masterminds behind abducting Trans Women here, in Texas, or anywhere else for that matter. I don't like this, but I've got other cases I need to move on to. The Asian connection is an unsolved mystery at this point," he said, sounding a little dejected and maybe realizing that the return on investment of his time wasn't worth pursuing this case any further.

If he only knew...

"Sorry about that... I don't do enough work with law enforcement to know the intricacies of what makes someone a good criminal," I replied, hoping that was enough opening for him to give me an in to press for answers on...

"Be glad you don't; the criminal element operating around here can really make you question humanity."

Here goes nothing. "I'm sure. Have you heard the name Corbino before?"

"Corbino? Why do you ask?"

"Two of the Marshals mentioned that name, but I didn't hear what they were saying about him," I replied as if the question was posed as an offhand curiosity on my part.

"That's an interesting name to be speaking, especially right now. A CI (confidential informant) for another detective mentioned this morning that someone had made a play for Corbino's business. I don't know to what extent, but his name being tossed around by you is certainly curious. Are you sure you didn't hear anything else?"

I ignored the question, "Is that common, cartels pushing out other cartels?" It was my attempt to show him I didn't know more than just a name.

"When they are big enough to impose their will, it is." He paused. "But this takeover doesn't sound right; there was mention of Chinese backing, which would be an interesting twist if true."

"The Chinese, in Mexico? That doesn't sound right."

"You must not keep up with China's global expansion efforts," he quipped.

"I keep up on current events, Detective; I tend to gloss over conspiracy theory bullshit." I swung back at his dig, a little annoyance in my tone.

"You might want to look into the WH Group then and their 2013 purchase made in this country. Maybe look into who is pouring money into the Panama Canal. I don't buy theories easily, Ruiz, but facts tend to strengthen truths. China is expanding, stretching its grasp on the world quietly and subtly."

"Okay, let's say the Chinese took out Corbino; why? What do they gain?"

"Do you think Mexico produces fentanyl in quantities that make it worth their effort?" he began, not waiting for an answer before rolling on with his point. "No, they don't; at least the smarter cartels don't bother with it. Mexico has nearly no control over their ports, so importing fentanyl is as easy as China shipping computers or toys to the US - maybe even easier. The fentanyl goes directly to the cartels to move north through the border at a cost to China. Wipe out the middleman and increase your profits," he said, taking a breath.

"I'm hypothesizing, more likely the CI is probably mistaken about a Chinese connection to Corbino being taken down. But the ease at which they can get drugs across our border does screw this country, feeding the habits of those that use, and I wouldn't put it past China to get some satisfaction from that as they chip away at this nation's foundation. They are making a play subtly for world dominance; don't be naive, Ruiz."

"I guess we will see," I said, wanting to get off this call now that I had something else to chew on. I hated having conspiracy theory arguments with people. To my knowledge, our greatest threat from China was their military, maybe their holding of loans for all we borrowed. Whatever...

"I guess we shall. When you get back to Phoenix, call me; I'd like to go over some legal aspects of this case," he added before I could question him. "You won't need a lawyer, Ms. Cantor; you're not in any trouble, but I have paperwork to get handled and will likely need an official statement from you and a couple signatures. All that will end up on microfiche or some hard drive in some vault and barely be a blip on anyone's radar."

He was not taking the dead end that this case appeared to be very well.

"I can come down to see you, but I think I'd like my lawyer there with me; it can't hurt," I said, smiling, knowing he probably didn't like that response.

"As you wish. Safe travels, Ms. Ruiz, and thank you for working with me..."

"You're welcome, Detective. I appreciated getting to work with you also."

"Stay safe."

"I'm doing my best..."

Saturday, June 9th, 8:39 AM, West Boulder, CO

The line went dead, and when I turned to the patio door, Gabriella was standing in the kitchen, looking out at me through the kitchen window. I waved for her to come out. She did...

"I didn't want to disturb your call."

"Just touching base with Detective Kovachev," I said, rolling my eyes. "He's got some paperwork I'll need to get reviewed and signed. How are your parents?"

"They are relieved I'm here and safe," she hesitated, "but they do not know about the abduction. I've made Eduardo promise not to say anything. I told them my lip was split and the bruises were from slipping in the desert while getting to Phoenix. I told them we met by chance, and you helped me when I had lost everything except the SD card..."

"Gotcha -- lost everything, helped out. But Eduardo knows what really happened. How does he feel about that?"

"He is still unhappy," she said, lowering her head. "He did not have time to handle that problem before Corbino's men came for him."

"The consequences thing you asked me about? You set that in motion with him; he was going to handle your coyote problem," I asked softly, no judgment in my voice or tone.

She could only nod. "The coyote I used to get across the border recognized Eduardo; he was with me the night I met this man and said something to someone in Corbino's organization. They came for him and tried to kill him, but the man you call Flagg was able to get him to safety and medical attention. I feel very guilty for this..."

I was close enough to her to put a hand on her shoulder and say softly, "Let all of that go... You're about to get a new life." I lifted her chin and asked, "Right? And it sounds like he wants to stick around and be there for you. Take the win. You've got so much to be thankful for, and I'm so excited for you! Your life is going to really start moving in the direction you've always dreamed of."

She tried to smile and hugged me, saying, "Thank you, Cass... Thank you for everything you've done for me. I'm sorry to have made this so difficult."

"Don't worry about it. But," I paused, "there is the matter of some money that needs to get secured. I need to speak with Flagg and get him access. I know this man, and you can trust what he tells you. If he says you'll be safe, he will deliver," I said as if I were a cheerleader for the CIA, Flagg, or our government.

"Yes, he has earned my trust. Do you want me to tell him?" she asked.

"No, let me. I've got some questions I need to ask him before we give him his prize." I smiled and hugged her quickly. "Oh, and the SD card, is this something I should hold onto or give to him?"

"He will find many pieces of information my father gathered that will be of interest, I think," she smiled slyly.

Okay, Flagg isn't getting that until I snap a copy of it on my laptop.

Saturday, June 9th, 9:05 AM, West Boulder, CO

I'd seen Flagg after Gabriella and I came back inside; he was on the phone but quickly wrapped up talking to whoever was on the line. On the surface, he might not look stressed, but I felt like he was hovering -- was that a tell?

Things were about to start moving quickly to the end game. He gave me a look, and I nodded to the door I'd just come in. Once alone on the patio again, I didn't waste any time. "I've got your access, Colonel, but I need to understand Corbino, and I want to tell that story..."

Bold move, bold ask? Was I pushing the bounds of any professional relationship we had?

Flagg thought about it for a moment: "I can't authorize that Cass, but I can push it up the chain, and with some oversight on what you'd like to report, maybe they'd go for it. I really am not in control of that decision, but I promise to lobby for you."