Aztec Treasure Ch. 11-20

I sat back and looked at the map, getting directions from Idaho Springs. It was two and a half hours going through Denver, but we knew she didn't do that. Maria avoided the big city and the interstate, driving through the mountains instead. It would take almost four hours with a toddler in the car while scared out of her mind.

The good news was that she was alive and on the run. I deleted the data from the database, resolving to check for updates more often. I knew where she had been, but I had no idea where she was going.

Ch. 17

FBI Commander Irene Lindstrom's POV
Denver Airport

My head was still spinning as I boarded the FBI jet heading for Washington.

I'd called the Night Duty Agent at the Task Force for help. She was the only one in the office now, as we weren't going 24/7 anymore, but we kept a presence to answer phones and wake people up if needed. I told her to lock up the office, step outside, and call me from her private cellphone. My instructions were specific and urgent; she was to lock herself into the office and not let anyone else into the room until FBI technicians swept it for bugs. I told her to contact all agents by text and instruct them to take the day off. When the sweep finished, she was to call me back the same way.

I'd already called the Los Angeles ADIC (Assistant Director In Charge, responsible for the FBI Division) to inform him of my suspicions and actions. He was waking up his technical directors and sending them in immediately. He was shaken by my call, especially after hearing the Packs had access to his computer network. He was calling in his Counterintelligence group to search for and track the bugs. "I'm on my way to Washington to speak to the director in person," I told him. "This breach is directed at my task force."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'll deal with it. I won't be in your hair much longer." The conversation was unpleasant, but the one I'd be having in a few hours? More so.

I buckled in as the door closed, the flight crew already cleared to taxi. I was asleep shortly after getting airborne and woke just before touchdown at Joint Base Andrews. A driver was waiting, and I caught up on messages and made a few phone calls on the way downtown. Instead of taking me to the J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building, we went to the Justice Department. "The boss kicked this up a level," I thought to myself as I entered the Attorney General's office.

The FBI Director was standing near Attorney General Marisol Guttierez's desk when I walked in. "Ah, Commander Lindstrom. How are your agents doing?"

I'd gotten an update message from Frank Donovan when I landed, so I had the latest. "Special Agent Steiner will be released from the hospital later today and should return to desk duty once the administrative leave is over; the shot passed through his arm cleanly. Special Agent-In-Charge Bennington's injuries from her two gunshot wounds were much more severe; we almost lost her. Claire is stable now in intensive care. She's facing months of rehabilitation on her shattered hip, and a return to duty status may not be possible."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

Director Patterson spoke next. "I've already spoken to the Denver ADIC; he wasn't happy about being out of the loop on something that resulted in his agent getting shot. Can you explain why you didn't bring him in on this?"

I explained what we'd learned about Maria and Maritza. Both people already knew from my updates that the leading families of the Sons were Jaguars. "After what happened with Julio Salazar, I felt Maria and the baby might be in danger. Our team found a lead indicating that her lawyer, Christian Portman, was helping her hide. I sent two members of my Task Force to speak to him; Claire Bennington and Frank Donovan of the DEA. I asked the Denver ADIC to help my people speak to a potential source; I didn't expect that my office was compromised, and the bad guys would get there before my agents did."

"You've confirmed the compromises in your office?"

"Yes, ma'am. Technicians found listening devices in my office and multiple other offices within my task force area. The computer people confirmed two backdoors with multiple accesses going back months."

"That's not good," Hugh said.

"Frank Grimes admitted that one of his hackers in the Werewolf world had been monitoring my Task Force since its inception, and he didn't apologize for it. His people aren't the ones who took Julio, and they only want to protect Maria. What he told me confirms my gut on this; the CIA is behind this all. What I don't know, and why I came here today, is whether this is a rogue operation or an authorized one."

"I've heard nothing indicating it is authorized, and I'll be kicking asses all over Washington if they left my agencies to hang out to dry on a CIA operation," Marisol said. "Can you prove it?"

"We're working on it," I replied. "The bugs are sophisticated, but we can't prove who installed them yet. Our computer people are trying to trace back the hacking."

"It wouldn't surprise me if the NSA is involved in the hack," Director Patterson said with disgust. "The CIA fits; they were very interested in the werewolves for spycraft and angry that Colletta flat-out rejected working with them overseas."

The Attorney General got us back on track. "Irene, what have you done so far with this knowledge?"

I told them about the office closure, turning over the search for Maria to Frank Grimes, and my decision to stop investigating Julio's disappearance. Hugh was impressed. "I can't fault you for any of those decisions. Maria Meztli isn't a suspect, and you've made an attempt to warn her she is in danger. If she contacts us, then we will protect her."

"I don't think she will ask us," I replied. "She must know about her cousin by now. If we can't protect him, why would she trust us with her safety? I hope she accepts the Werewolf Council's offer if they can find her."

"What else should we do?"

I gathered myself for this since it was a big move on my part. "I think we should immediately disband the Sons of Tezcatlipoca Task Force and transfer all remaining cases and investigations to the local FBI offices," I said evenly.

Hugh was shocked. "Why would you do that? Your Task Force has put hundreds of these men in prison already!"

"Sir, the Task Force has been fatally compromised. The CIA and NSA have been part of the team from the start, and they didn't share our goals. We gathered all that information, and they used it to further their plans. In the process, they made us look like fools. If the compromise of our Task Force becomes public knowledge, it makes everyone look bad. It would be better to declare victory and go home."

"Damn," Director Patterson said. "You're right, though. What about your active investigations?"

"I can send the Task Force members to the local offices to conduct turnovers of those. The US Attorneys already have the case information they need, and prosecutions won't be affected."

"Hold a press conference, hand out a few commendations, and send everyone home sounds good right now," the Attorney General said. "Your team has been working non-stop for months."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The AG looked at me over her reading glasses. "Can we trust Frank Grimes and the Packs?"

"I hate to say it, but I trust Chase and Rori far more than I trust CIA Director Sinclair," I replied. "Frank serves two masters, but he is a man of courage and integrity. The Sons would still be active without their help; most of our work has been following up on the evidence their hacker gave to us."

She nodded. "I didn't like the idea of having Frank in Homeland Security, but it has had its advantages, and he works cheap. It's been good public relations for both sides. Hugh, anything to add?"

"I want my counterintelligence division to continue their investigation into the breaches. We're all assuming CIA, but it could be the Cartels or others. They will find out, and they won't leak the results."

Marisol stood up. "Leave the CIA to me; I'll meet privately with the President and find out if she's authorized an operation against the remaining Were-jaguars. Hugh, take care of shutting down the Task Force."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Irene, you've done a fine job, and you showed good instincts bringing this directly to us. When the Task Force disbands, take some well-deserved vacation. I'm sure Hugh can find a worthy next assignment for you."

"Thank you, Madam Attorney General."

Hugh walked me out of her office, and we talked in the limo on the way back to the FBI building. "The driver will take you to the airport; get back to the office and call me from there. The official line is that the Task Force is being closed down because its work is complete. We don't want your CIA and NSA people to end up at an overseas black site before we can interrogate them."

"I understand, sir." I slept the whole way back to Los Angeles.

Ch. 18

Spider Monkey's POV
Arrowhead Pack

Chase, Vic, and Rori in her wolf form arrived a few minutes after Bridgette linked them that we'd found a location on Maria. Rori trotted over to sit next to me on the dog bed while Chase stood behind me. Vic put my lunch on the desk next to me, then picked me up and sat in my chair, putting me back on his lap. "We got a hit on Maria's car in Laramie," I told them. "She passed one of those speed readout trailers linked to the DEA's system at 1132 our time, entering Laramie from the west on Highway 230." It was about to hit noon central, and Laramie was an hour behind on Mountain time.

"She's driving her car? That's surprising," Chase said as he looked at the map.

"Maybe Christian didn't warn her about the car. That's what, three or four hours from where we were focusing on her hideout?"

"Three and a half with normal traffic," I said. "Maria could have left early in the morning after hearing about Christian's death. It's good and bad; we can use this to track her, but the CIA knows her vehicle too."

"Do we have anyone in that area," Chase asked.

"Not really," Vic replied. "The Denver Brotherhood is watching I-70, but we know she didn't go near Denver because we didn't capture her license plate. All the people we sent down from Casper are driving through towns in our target areas, with passengers in wolf form sticking their heads out the window. We don't have anything yet."

Chase nodded. "How far is the Casper Pack from Laramie?"

"About two hours," I said.

"Shit. All right, let's look at this logically. From Laramie, she could pick up Interstate 80 east or west or continue north on 30. If she goes north, is it possible she's trying to get to Casper Pack territory?"

I looked at the map carefully. "It would make sense. Highway 30 loops to the west and rejoins I-80, so that makes no sense. If she was trying to get to Casper and stay off the interstate, that's the way to go."

"What about Interstate 80," Vic asked.

"Take it far enough west, and you hit the Donner Pack," I said. A quick check on Google Maps gave me the bad news. "It's a fourteen-hour drive, though."

"What about east on 80?"

I looked at the map. "An hour or so to hit Cheyenne, but we already know there's no reason to go north or south from there. Keep going, and you go through Nebraska into Iowa, on to Chicago." I leaned back onto Vic's broad chest. "We're guessing here. Laramie is the first major crossroads she's made it to. All we know is she isn't heading south, and she's staying clear of Denver. What we need is another hit on where she might be going."

"Or a place she might be going to," Vic said.

Chase scratched Rori's ears, his eyes unfocused from the mental link. "Here's what we do. Vic, contact the two Alphas and warn them she might be heading their way. I'll talk to the Denver Brotherhood and call off their search on Interstate 70; maybe I can talk them into sending people up Interstate 76 to the I-80 exchange and set up a watch there since they'll never reach Cheyenne in time. Spider, you keep mining the data and look for a place she might be heading."

"What about her hiding place," I asked. "Should we keep looking for it?"

"Vic, ask Casper to leave one car on the search and bring the others up to Cheyenne to wait for more information. If we get another hit, I want people closer than two hours away."

It was a compromise based on limited data, but that's the best we could do. "What about our people," I asked.

"I'll set up a rapid-reaction group and ask Sawyer to do the same. Three pairs of wolves, a plane, and pilots on standby in case we find something." He looked at the map. "I can ask Sawyer to send his people to Salt Lake City, Utah, and I'll send our people to Lincoln, Nebraska. That way, we'll have people bracketing Maria if she's on the interstate."

"I'll get back at it," I said. I ate my Cuban sandwich and fries as I went back to work.

It was almost one when I got an email from my Google contact. "S- here's the file. Usual fee." I opened the file to find the Google location history compiled from Maria's cellphone. Opening a drawer, I pulled out a $500 Amazon gift card and emailed her the number and passcode. Simple and untraceable.

People would freak if they knew how detailed their Google profiles were, especially if you allowed Location History. Google would have a minute-by-minute log of your locations as you go through your life. Naturally, a Biker Club Princess would know better than that, so she would turn off "Location History" and feel safe. She wasn't. Even with this feature off, Google still records location data, just not in a timeline. The file I opened gave her phone's GPS coordinates and time stamps every time she used her phone for online shopping, opened Maps, used her camera, checked the weather, or dozens of other reasons. Since her phone burned up when they fled the country, the data stopped before Christmas.

I exported the data into a spreadsheet and started filtering, creating a search box centered in the mountains west of Denver. It didn't take long for the pattern to emerge; she spent a few days at a time at a location west of the town of Empire along Highway 40. The location data was consistent within fifty meters, centered on a cabin in the woods. "Bridgette, tell Vic and the Alphas that I found her hiding place," I said.

Vic was in the room a minute later. "What did you find?"

I'd done a property search and figured out why we didn't see it; the property was still in the name of Maria's late grandmother. Vic used my untraceable phone to call a number. "Nick, we've got a probable location. Break off the search and check it out, then call me back." He gave him the address. "The guys will let me know. Nice job."

"Thanks. I'll see if there's anything else on here that can help." I set my search parameters for anything north of the Colorado border and started checking out the hits on the map. Meanwhile, Bridgette was working through social media contacts and phone call records for other ideas.

The next break was another hit on her license plate at 3:13 PM our time, in Scottsbluff, Nebraska. Bridgette had gone to bed by then, and I had Brian and Paula back now. The Alphas arrived as we were trying to figure out what was going on. "She's staying the hell off the beaten path," Vic said.

"She's avoiding the interstates," I said. "If she was trying to get there from Laramie, her route took her an hour longer." Scottsbluff was a prairie town of fifteen thousand people in the Nebraska panhandle, just over Wyoming's state line.

"We've got two cars from the Denver Brotherhood at the intersection of Interstates 76 and 80, east of her," Chase said. "She's heading back southeast on Highway 26 now. I can send a car west on Interstate 80 to wait in Kimball. If Maria goes south, they'll see her. There is nothing but prairie to the north, so I'll send the other car to wait in Oshkosh on 26."

"I'll update the Alphas," Vic said. "Do you want the aircraft to divert? Our people just landed in Lincoln, and Sawyer's people are still in the air."

Chase thought about it for a minute and had a mental conversation with Rori before responding. "See if the Donner Pack group can make an airport somewhere ahead of them in Nebraska. We'll send two groups west from Lincoln by car and leave the third on the plane in case she breaks out."

"I'm on it."

It was nerve-wracking. We were waiting for word from our people in the field while checking the databases and continuing our searches. The team from Casper Pack searched her cabin, finding nothing useful.

"I might know where she's going," Paula said a few minutes later. She had a Facebook page up, a young Hispanic woman holding her baby in the profile. "Eva Torres, age twenty, married with two young kids and living in Grand Island. She went to school with Maria, two years ahead of her, but check this out." She pulled up an obituary. "Her father was Benito Santiago, the Road Captain for the Denver Sons of Tezcatlipoca."

"The road captain is responsible for Club runs and logistics," Chase said. "Do you have an address?"

"Of course."

Chase wrote it down and called our people in Nebraska, dispatching one of the two cars to check it out. "Don't get too close; just do a drive-by and see if anyone is there," he told them. "Find a place you can wait within sight of the home if possible, far enough away so she won't scent you."

The good news kept coming. My phone rang; it was the Brotherhood team in Oshkosh. "We found her," Dipstick told me. "Heading southeast on 30."

"Stay back and don't spook her," I said. "I'll call the other car and have them get ahead of you at Ogalla." Vic coordinated with the Pack resources, and soon we had a rotation going of trail vehicles, swapping out periodically so she wouldn't spot the tails. The only group that stayed put was on Eva's home in Grand Island. Chase updated Frank Grimes on the search using the secured phone, and Frank's direction surprised him. "Don't contact her or get close to her, Chase. Track her to Eva's house, if that's where she is going," he told my Alpha. "I'll fly there myself, and we can make the contact tonight. If everything goes well, we'll load her on my jet and have her in Two Harbors by sunrise."

My back hurt, and I needed to move around. I looked up at Vic and pouted. "I'm tired. Can we take a break?"

"Sure, baby. A little pool time?" It sounded great. I loved the Arrowhead pool, even if I couldn't spend much time in the hot tub now. We walked through the tunnels towards the Pack House and the attached pool, where after a soak, a snack, and a back rub, I felt like a new woman.

Ch. 19

Maria (Meztli) Gonzales' POV
Grand Island, Nebraska

I helped Eva with the dishes and dinner cleanup while Carlos took care of our three babies. She'd made enchiladas and rice for dinner, and I appreciated the real food. She was a better cook than I was. "Thanks again for letting us stay with you," I told her as I dried the plates.

"You know we'd do anything for you," she told me. "I can't believe what happened to the Club." I'd given her and Carlos the whole story over dinner; the war, the Cartel taking out the Presidents, and the Feds taking down the US Chapters. They'd followed the reports on the news, but that didn't tell them what happened from the Son's point of view. There, everything had crashed down in a BIG hurry when the DEA started serving warrants on the clubhouses.

"It's all gone," I told her. "The clubhouses burned down or seized by the Feds, the members dead, in jail, or on the run. It will never come back, not with the leadership in Mexico gone too."

"My sisters and I got nothing after the raid," she said. "The Government seized the assets under RICO laws, and that included our home. Dad never had a 'real' job, so the State Attorney General took it. All his bank accounts, even the secret ones, were cleared out before we got anything. We barely had enough left to bury him after they released the body."