Aztec Treasure Ch. 01-10

I was napping that afternoon in the living room when I woke to the sound of cans rolling along the pavement. I'd set some simple traps with cans and fishing line to warm me that someone was coming up the sidewalk to the door. Up in an instant, I picked up Maritza with one hand and the shotgun with the other.

I heard the person curse as she untangled the fishing line from her shoes, the cans making more noise as she freed herself. I glanced out the living room window at her; she was young, wearing a pencil skirt, white blouse, and a jacket. I checked the driveway and the road; no one else was in her car in the driveway or anywhere else I could see.

She made it to the door and knocked three times, bringing my next decision point. The cabin was supposed to be empty, so I stayed quiet and watched through a crack in the curtain to see what she did. When no one answered, she pulled a paper out of her purse. "Maria? Christian said to give you this message."

She tucked it into the door, then turned around and left. I waited a few minutes after she pulled out of the driveway to ensure she was gone and no one else was around. When I was satisfied, I opened the door, grabbed the note, and closed and locked it again.

I smelled the paper, scenting Christian's smell among the other scents. The note was folded in half and stapled closed, so I opened it and read the single word he'd written to me.

"RUN."

And we did.

Ch. 9

Senior Agent Frank Donovan's POV
Sons of Tezcatlipoca Task Force, Los Angeles

The Task Force was busy, but I wasn't. The drug angle of the Task Force was winding down. We shut down the drug pipelines into the USA, and the players were dead or arrested. The action now was with the US Attorneys to prove the RICO cases. I was still the liaison between Chase Nygaard and the Task Force, but he didn't have any new information for me. Arrowhead had far more problems now than helping take down a biker gang.

I attached myself to the search for Maria Meztli, figuring it might help figure out what happened to the money in the Denver chapter. I started working with the FBI's forensic accountants, Border Patrol, and the DEA's Denver branch to find the young lady and the orphaned baby. CIA man Al Perkins joined our group, which was a bit of a shock. I figured he would be more interested in the Cartel connections. When I asked, he said the Cartel would want Pedro's family dead, and she was Pedro's family.

That helped out the Commander, who had the whole Justice Department breathing down her neck to figure out what happened to Julio Salazar. If he'd escaped, it would look bad, but the Bureau of Prisons got fooled by the three fake Marshals, and they weren't taking the hit alone. So far, we didn't have any leads on the case. The men were ghosts; the identifications high-quality forgeries, the van painted to match with fake plates, and facial recognition showed nothing. Our FBI crime scene team had taken fingerprints in the waiting room and on the door, but no prints tied to anyone without legitimate business there. Watching the surveillance video, I could see why; the men were careful not to touch anything as they waited, and the lead agent wiped the counter as he left.

Traffic cameras in Oklahoma City tracked them heading south out of town, but they never got on the Kansas Tollway or Interstate 35. We'd even sent aircraft up to see if the van was abandoned somewhere, with no luck. Julio was smoke and a vapor trail.

The FBI suspected the CIA's involvement, but Commander Lindstrom shot down that line of inquiry quickly. "The CIA Director denied involvement, and they don't operate inside the United States." A few agents rolled their eyes at that. "We're not going after another Federal agency without evidence," she said. "The Sinaloa Cartel has the money and people to do this, and the Sons may have people in play we don't know about. Find the van, find the prisoner, and we'll find out who did this."

I didn't buy the Cartel angle at all. They wanted the leadership dead, especially if Julio was cooperating with the Feds. They'd have him killed in prison before they'd try a high-risk prison escape. As for the Sons, I didn't see anyone left to order the rescue, much less the money to hire a mercenary team for the job.

All of the alphabet agencies were salivating over the potential of getting the werewolves to work for them. Even the DEA was looking at the possibility of drug-sniffing wolves with human intelligence and communication abilities. I'd heard the Secret Service was getting a couple for the Presidential Security Detail when they finished training. Colletta's agreement with the President brought former DEA Director Frank Grimes back into Homeland Security, where he would coordinate requests for assistance with the Pack Alphas. The wolves were hesitant to commit to taking direction from outside the Pack structure with good reason.

Julio was a jaguar shifter, not covered by the treaty with the Werewolf Packs. When I looked at who would have the means and the desire to risk the grab, only a few agencies came to mind. The Defense Department, namely the Defense Intelligence Agency, was a possibility. I discounted them since there were already dozens of werewolves in military service. That left the Central Intelligence Agency.

I leaned back in my chair as I worked through the possibilities. If the CIA took him because he was a jaguar shifter, what next? Julio was a hardened criminal, unlikely to cooperate or submit to authority. His family was dead, so blackmail wasn't an option. They could offer him his freedom, but then what? He'd never be able to show his face in the States or Mexico again.

I was still thinking about it when Claire Bennington called me. "I think I have something," she said. "Can you look at it?"

"Sure." I walked over to her cubicle in the middle of the room and pulled a chair up where I could see her computer screen. Sofia Sanchez, our Customs/Border Patrol rep, was sitting in the other chair. "Vehicle registrations?"

"Since Maria isn't a suspect, we can't get warrants to look at her bank accounts. We started poking around in government databases, and one of them was the Colorado Department of Motor Vehicles."

"Driver's licenses?"

"Vehicle registrations. I searched for any vehicle registrations for their home address in the last five years. Here's what I came up with." She showed me a screen with five vehicles; one motorcycle, one Prius, two Ford Explorers, and an F-350 pickup truck. "Notice anything interesting?"

Two of the vehicles, the Explorer and the Prius, had been sold in the last six months. "Not really."

"The Ford Explorer crossed into Mexico and ended up at the drone strike site," Sofia said. "The VIN matched the vehicle now registered to Mr. Peter Gonzales."

"Huh. What's at the address?"

"That's a dead drop, an apartment building near downtown owned by the Denver Sons."

"What about the Prius?"

"That's even more interesting. The date of sale is the day before Pedro crossed the border into Mexico, but the new owner didn't submit the title until ten days later. Take a look at the new owner."

"Christian Portman. Jesus, that's Pedro's estate lawyer." Mr. Portman was known to the Task Force as he resisted the seizure of assets belonging to the late Mr. Meztli.

"It gets better," Claire said. "That Prius title transferred again a week later. Christian traded it in at a dealership in Golden, Colorado, but I don't show any title applications in his name at all. He traded the car in on something he didn't buy himself."

It was great investigating. "Sounds like I need to talk to Mr. Portman myself." I went to stand up.

"There's more," Claire said. "Since his name was a dead end, I looked for any title applications from that dealership on the date the Prius got traded in, and guess what I found?" She pulled up a title application on the screen.

"Maria Gonzales." It was too much of a coincidence; Christian had taken Pedro's car and cash and turned it into a 'clean' title for a green 2017 Ford Escape, license number 269-SNM. "Is this her new address?"

"It's Christian Portman's law office. He didn't go through this to liquidate the estate, Frank. The Prius wasn't burned in the fire, and it didn't cross into Mexico. We think Pedro drove it to Nogales, leaving it with the other cars we found in the parking lot on the US side."

Sofia picked it up from there. "The Border Patrol checkpoint on Interstate 19 recorded it driving north out of Nogales the day after we saw the jaguar crossing back into the United States. The driver was Maria Gonzales."

It was a lot to take in. "Take this to the Commander, now. You did a hell of a job, and you deserve the recognition for it." I followed them into Irene's office, where they laid out the evidence.

"I need to go to Denver and talk to this lawyer," I told Commander Lindstrom when we finished.

"Take Claire with you and go," she said. Claire's eyes got big; she hadn't been a field agent in a decade. "Don't look at me like that. You've got a gun and a badge, and it's your bust. Frank would be calling for you anyway; you know that lawyer must have hidden accounts everywhere."

Claire nodded nervously. "Yes, Ma'am."

We walked out of her office and back to Claire's desk. "I'll need you to call Travel and get us round-trip tickets to Denver, leaving three hours from now, returning in two days. Do you have a go-bag packed?"

"No," she said. "I keep a change of clothes in my car, but that's it."

"I'll drive you home to pack, and then we can get to the airport." We made it through TSA just in time to catch the flight, landing in Denver at seven PM.

CIA Agent Al Perkin's POV

I watched as Frank Donovan spoke to Sofia and Claire in her cubicle, using the microphones I'd installed in each workstation. I listened to the briefing as I pretended to work on other stuff. Once I had the relevant names, I grabbed my briefcase and left the office before the three agents closed Lindstrom's door.

I called the switchboard and asked for the Deputy Director- Operations or the Director. Director Sinclair called me back minutes later. "What's going on, Al?"

"Maria Meztli, sir. She's in the Denver area, under the name Maria Gonzales. I don't have an address, but Pedro's lawyer is assisting her and will know where she is." I gave him Christian's name and address.

"Good work. Keep me posted."

I hung up and walked back to the office. I didn't enjoy spying on my coworkers in the Task Force, but I had my orders.

A CIA team would reach the lawyer before Frank did, and soon Maria and Maritza would join Julio in a secret location.

Ch. 10

Spider Monkey's POV
Arrowhead Lake, Northern Minnesota

My fingers flew over the keyboard as I shifted to my next task of the afternoon. The fun stuff was months behind me now; the money I'd stolen from the Sons of Tezcatlipoca accounts was long gone, donated to charities, or rerouted into Pack accounts. Chase had taken the material I'd gathered from the gang's computers and turned it over to the Sons of Tezcatlipoca Task Force. The Feds had smashed the organization into oblivion, killing some members and locking up the rest on drug and RICO charges.

The fun with the Werewolf Council was winding down now. Jack Coffey was dead, killed by a SWAT sniper in the standoff outside our entrance a few days ago. Colletta had worked a miracle since our Pack shifted on live television, negotiating a treaty that preserved our Packs and our rights to exist. I was relieved because even though I was still human, my unborn baby was not. Vic was a werewolf and now the Lead Beta at Arrowhead Pack. I was his mate, and cyber warfare was MY contribution to the Pack.

I'd spent most of today working on the mystery of Julio Salazar, the Sons of Tezcatlipoca Master-At-Arms, and the only surviving male Jaguar. I downloaded the Task Force's information first thing this morning, looking for anything they might have missed. It was frustrating because the FBI was pulling out all the stops on the investigation and getting nowhere. I couldn't find anything they missed, and after five hours, I had no new information to give. The men who took him were ghosts, and that kind of expertise didn't come cheap. From the video footage, they didn't appear to be Cartel crews. I knew I'd have to try and search the CIA computers for clues, and those weren't easy to access.

I looked out the window from my home office that looked over Lake Arrowhead. It was a large home, built by Coral and Keith Sexson before they went to Blue River Pack in Canada as their new Alphas. The back of our house faced northeast on the rocky point, while the northwest end had views of the whole lake from our spot to the right of Alpha Rori's mansion next door. The lake was still iced over, but warmer and longer days would soon take care of that. The ice houses were all off of the lake now. The Pack owned a half-dozen of them, all stored in a shed until next December. Another six weeks, and we'd be on our motorcycles again. I couldn't wait.

My hacking server and Pack backup server were in a well-protected room in the basement, but my office was the nerve center. I had a big U-shaped desk with four powerful computers running at once, each with multiple large displays. The primary Pack server was still in the home built for Beta Ron Carlson before he and Teri moved to the Monongahela Pack. While Vic and I were on the run after hacking the Council servers, Rori had brought in former Council IT Beta Brian Steele to handle the Pack's computer needs. He had the legal side while I dealt with the not-so-legal.

I entered the FBI's computer system through the backdoor login I'd added months ago. When the Sons went to war against the Steel Brotherhood, the Task Force started looking into both sides. The Brotherhood was clean but wanted revenge for their dead members. Chase and Rori got them to agree to let him handle it while they stayed visibly law-abiding and out of the way. I was able to hack into the outlaw biker gang's computers and communications, giving Chase what he needed to make a deal with the Justice Department. We gave them everything they needed to take the Sons down, and they stopped investigating the Arrowhead Pack and our friends.

That was three months ago. Even though we had a formal alliance, we didn't trust the FBI to honor the agreement; they were far too curious about Chase and his finances. Arrowhead was a known Werewolf Pack now, and government agencies wanted information on us. It was human nature; I didn't think badly of them for it, but sometimes they needed their hands smacked when they reached for the cookie jar. If I saw evidence they were breaking the agreement, I'd tell Alpha Chase. He'd contact Frank Donovan of the DEA, now on the Task Force, and Frank would get the Task Force to back off. If that didn't work, Chairman Consort Frank Grimes worked part-time for Homeland Security, and his mate Colletta chaired the Werewolf Council. Neither was shy of reminding the Feds of the terms of the agreement.

The first place I checked was the folder for the shared investigation files. I looked for those updated since this morning, starting with Salazar. Ten minutes later, I figured out the FBI made just as much progress as I did. None.

I went back to the file index, and something caught my eye. I hadn't paid attention to the "Family-Friends" index because those people weren't under active investigation. It had been a week or so since I looked. Clicking on the index, I saw a new folder under it for "Jaguar Shifters." Julio Salazar was here, no surprise. Maria Meztli's file was here, where before she was under her father, Pedro. Also listed was Maritza Correirra, who was now ten months old.

I clicked onto the file for Maria, looking at the latest entries. As I paged through the investigation files, my stomach rolled. "That poor girl," I said. I wished again that I had a Pack link to talk to Vic with a thought, but I had to call him instead. "Vic, I need to show something to you and the Alphas."

"He's in a meeting with the Katahdin Alphas right now but should be done in five minutes."

"Fine. Come to my office; it's important." I started downloading files to my flash drive, then exited the FBI server. By the time Vic came in through the tunnel to the basement, I had everything loaded on one of the Pack computers. I put the video of the Presidents crossing the border onto the 80-inch LCD screen on the wall and other files on my three desktop screens.

I heard the sound of running paws on the carpet and an excited bark as Rori pushed the door open to my office. She came over and put her nose into my crotch, taking a deep sniff. "Alpha! Cold nose!" She sat down as I scratched her ears, licking my face as the men walked into the room. "The baby is fine. How is yours doing?"

"Good, but Rori needs to take it easy," Chase said as he sat down. "Whoa. Who's the jaguar?"

I quickly explained what I had found in the Task Force database. "When Arrowhead got outed, the Task Force started looking at the Sons to see if any of them were shifters too. Their Border Patrol rep found this video of jaguars crossing the border east of Nogales, two days before the Presidents got hung from the fence." As we watched, the jaguars crossed one by one.

"So they figured out the Sons leadership is jaguars."

"Yes. The Task Force is sure that the Correirra family members are jaguars, figuring they are like wolves in that they don't turn humans. It's another reason why Julio's disappearance is generating so much activity."

"And the reason to bust Julio from jail in the first place," Vic said. "Who has him? CIA?"

"That's my guess, but the investigation is going nowhere," I replied. "The guys who took him are real professionals and didn't leave clues behind. The Task Force has people focused on Maria Meztli, the 17-year-old daughter of the late Pedro Meztli, President of the Denver chapter." I put her high-school photo on the screen.

"Why look at her? The Sons don't let women anywhere near Club business, especially female children," Chase replied.

"She's a blood descendent of a Jaguar shifter, so she is one too. Then there is this." I played the drone-strike footage. "See the person near the cars? That's Maria." The Alphas flinched as the explosions filled the screen. "The little blur there is Maritza, taking off in jaguar form for the woods."

"Jaguar children can shift at birth, unlike us," Vic agreed. "How old was Maritza?"

"Six months."

"A small cub, then. She could run a short distance and hide, and that's about it," Vic said. "Jaguar babies shift when their mother does, so why did she shift?"

"Her mother died in the airstrike, so it might have been the shock of losing her mother," I said. "When the Mexican military arrived, Maria and Maritza were gone. The Task Force found this video a few days later." I played the video of the border crossing, showing a jaguar crossing north. "The jaguar is female, and the bag around her neck is holding a cub. It's the two of them, Alphas. The pair disappeared back into the United States months ago."

Chase leaned back in his chair as Rori's rust-colored wolf laid her head on his leg. "They aren't targets for us, Spider. We don't go after innocent women and children, cat shifter or not." Rori looked up at him, telling him something over the link. "If you can find her, we can offer her protection. It's dangerous to be a shifter on your own right now."

I leaned back in my chair. "The Task Force is actively looking for Maria and will bring her in as a material witness."

Vic shook his head. "If the CIA took Julio, they will want Maria and the baby as well. They aren't part of the treaty, so they have no protection."