Aztec Treasure Ch. 31-40

I unhooked the trailer, then opened up the hood and removed the GPS receiver. These trucks weren't cheap, and I didn't want them tracing a stolen truck with it. I found a small toolbox in the back and used it to swap plates with the truck parked next to me. I fired it up and drove out, leaving the mess behind for the police to figure out.

I drove east towards Mobile before picking up I-65 north. I stopped once, filling the dual tanks with diesel and getting a bag of roast beef sandwiches and a big shake at Arby's. I passed through Atlanta before midnight and was in rural Virginia by sunrise. I needed to rest, so I pulled off the freeway and drove until I reached the forests around Wright's Corner. I found a church with a tree-shaded parking lot and parked in the back behind the church bus.

I left the wallet behind, leaving the money and cards in the cargo pocket. I did a quick search of the car and hit pay dirt; under the seat was a pistol safe, and the key was on the ring. Inside was a holstered Smith and Wesson M&P 9 Shield and an extra magazine. "Thank you, my Goddess," I said as I slipped the firearm into a pocket and closed the flap. Heading into the woods, I walked a mile or so until I got to a creek. My nose and ears didn't sense any humans, but I did scent deer.

It was a decent place to get some sleep. I stripped down, rolling everything in my shorts and tying it with the belt before stashing them under a fallen tree trunk. I shifted into my cat and walked to the stream, drinking my fill of water. Finding a large oak, I leaped up and climbed twenty or so feet up, ending up sleeping on a sturdy branch.

I woke after sundown and jumped to the forest floor. I pulled the clothes out, carrying them by the end of the belt in my teeth as I moved north in the moonlight. I found a rural home; outside was a pickup truck with a gun rack, and I could see a man in his thirties drinking a beer and watching television. Perfect.

I shifted and dressed, placing the holstered pistol behind my rear hip and covering it with the T-shirt. I stopped by the mailbox, verifying by scent and hearing that no one else was around. I snuck up close to the front door, then tossed a rock through the living room window.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" The guy yelled, then opened up the front door to see who did it. I fired once from six yards, putting the round through his right eye. He dropped like a stone onto the front steps, and I moved inside and verified he was the only one there.

I dragged him to the shed outside and left him there. Returning to the house, I went straight to the gun safe in the bedroom. It was one of those keypad-operated models, a discount brand offering little security. You could learn how to break into one of these on Youtube; it took me less than a minute to bypass the keypad and open the safe.

"Damn. Rednecks are good for something," I said to myself as I looked inside. I took out an AR-15 carbine with a collapsible stock and reflex sight and a bolt-action sniper rifle in .308 Winchester with a 4-12x Leupold scope. I set both aside, tossing extra magazines and boxes of ammunition with them. Near the top, I found a Glock 22 in .40S&W and about two thousand in cash.

I put extra ammo in a range bag he had on the top of the safe, then zipped up the rifles in gun cases I found under his bed. It had been a great haul, and it was time to go. I hauled everything out to his truck, loading the rifles behind the seat and the range bag in the passenger seat. I drove east, stopping at a Wal-Mart for supplies before heading to a cheap motel. I shaved my head in the bathroom, then spent the rest of the night cleaning the guns, researching the CIA and President with my new Chromebook, and watching the news before taking another nap.

They'd fucked with the wrong cat. I'd take care of the bastards who tried to disappear me, and then I'd retrieve Maria and Maritza from those damn dogs.

Ch. 33

President Laura Kettering's POV

Oval Office, next afternoon

"It's confirmed?"

"Yes, Madam President," FBI Director Patterson replied. "Surveillance video from the marina has him arriving in the stolen boat yesterday afternoon. Julio Salazar's fingerprints are all over the thing. The Coast Guard is still searching for the missing fishermen, but the owner's truck is missing from the lot. We put an APB out for the vehicle this morning, and every law enforcement agency in the country has Julio's mug shot now."

"I can't believe the CIA fucked me like this," I said as I leaned back and looked at the men over the glossy top of the Resolute desk. "Has Peter Sinclair admitted to anything yet?" He stood in front of my desk multiple times and denied the CIA had anything to do with Julio's disappearance or the attacks against Maria Meztli. I'd promised Colletta Grimes that we hadn't done it, and now I was finding out I had a rogue agency. I'd fired Peter two hours ago when the news of the black site prison broke. What a mess.

"No, ma'am," Attorney General Marisol Guttierez responded. "Since the FBI detained him for questioning, he's lawyered up and refused to answer questions."

My Chief of Staff, Lynette Johnson, spoke up as she paced the room. "It's a clusterfuck, Madam President, and we need to get ahead of this before it destroys you. The CIA conducting operations within the United States to abduct a US Citizen and Federal prisoner? A black site prison operating off the Gulf Coast? The shark-eaten body of the Deputy Director for Covert Operations pulled from the wreckage of the platform, not to mention a helicopter explosion with multiple fatalities? You need to act boldly on this before it sinks you, too."

"Like what?"

"Fire the entire CIA leadership today," Lynette replied.

"Jesus, Lynette," the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs said. "You can't decapitate the entire CIA leadership!"

"I have to agree with the General," Alexander Strickland, my head of Homeland Security, added. "It would cripple the agency for years!"

"I can replace them all in a more orderly fashion," I told them. I looked at my Homeland Security Chief. "Do you trust the Deputy Director?" The CIA Deputy Director was a retired Army General who was appointed to the position last year. Alexander Strickland nodded. "Anyone above the Assistant Director level who did know or should have known about the prison, I want you to fire immediately. Bring in leaders from other agencies or make temporary assignments as the General sees fit. I'm also demanding the resignations of all CIA Deputy Directors pending the appointment of their replacement and orderly turnover. We can't do it all at once, but we WILL change the senior leadership this year. And tell the DNI and the Deputy Director that if they can't get it done, I'll change them both out. Lynette?"

My Chief of Staff looked at me and nodded. "I'll take care of it, Madam President."

My Director of National Intelligence was supposed to be holding Peter Sinclair's leash. General Curtis Ripley and a team of FBI agents were at CIA Headquarters right now. They were locking down everything they could find in the Director and Deputy Director-Covert Ops offices. I didn't have high hopes for this; these men were career spooks, and spooks know how to destroy evidence quickly.

Lynette was right; we had to do something, and the firings were enough to show I was serious about bringing the CIA under control. It had been one piece of bad news after another today. Fishermen had reported an explosion in the air, then more explosions in the water. It only took a few minutes for the abandoned oil platform to sink in the deep water. They were still pulling bodies out of the water, at least the ones the sharks hadn't eaten. The CIA Deputy Director still had his identification on him, but he didn't have legs or half his arm. He did have four deep, parallel slashes from the claws of an adult werejaguar. With Julio Salazar positively identified, the purpose of the CIA's secret prison wasn't a secret. "I can't believe I gave Peter Sinclair his job," I told them. "When will we be charging him with kidnapping and a few dozen related felonies?"

The Attorney General held up a hand. "Lying to the President isn't a crime, and it will take some time to peel back this onion and see what he knows. Director Sinclair is claiming that Daniel French ran the whole operation without informing him. I need time to investigate and build a case."

"Time we don't have," Director Strickland said. "With Julio running wild, we risk a public panic. With every person he kills, the anti-were groups get emboldened. We are bound to see more attacks on Packs, and they will fight back. We could lose everything we gained in the past three months."

I looked at my FBI Director. "Hugh, this is your highest priority. I don't want Julio to be able to poke his head out of a sewer grate without four cops drawing down on him. He has to be stopped and now."

Hugh nodded. "We're doing everything we can, Madam President. He got a head start, but we will find him."

I looked over at my Chief of Staff. "Lynette, when are we scheduling the update meeting with Colletta Grimes?" The Werewolf Council was nervous about the extra-judicial moves against Julio and the attacks on Maria. Colletta was flying in from Minnesota now.

"Tonight at nine," she replied. "We need to wrap this up. The President of Mexico will be arriving in four minutes."

"Agreed. I want the FBI, DNI, and Homeland crawling through CIA Headquarters on this secret prison and Julio Salazar. I'm not playing around; your agents have the highest security clearances. If someone tries to pull this 'national security' crap and doesn't cooperate fully, arrest them. The Attorney General's people will be working closely with you to identify and indict those involved. The FBI also needs to find Julio quickly and get him back in jail before more people die. I want an update tonight at eight-thirty; any major updates, you talk to Lynette. Questions?"

"No, Madam President," they all answered.

"Go." Everyone except Lynette and Valerie Grunwald, the Secret Service chief, left the room. "Something to say, Valerie?"

"We have a highly dangerous adult male werejaguar out there somewhere. He is probably pissed off at the US Government and you in particular. With your permission, I'll reach out to Colletta and the Arrowhead Pack. I need to find out the best way to take him down if he comes after you." I could tell she was nervous; this was not the kind of threat she'd trained to face.

"You have my permission. You might want to think about bringing those werewolf agents in your training program up here to advise you. They might smell the cat before you see it."

"Yes, Madam President." She left me with my cadre of agents as we walked to the Rose Garden to greet my distinguished guest.

The first big update Lynette whispered in my ear during the State Dinner. "We found Julio's stolen truck in rural Virginia. No sign of him." I smiled and nodded before going back to my guests, but I was confused. The Sons were in Mexico and the Southwest; why would he come this way? The only Pack on the Eastern Seaboard was way the hell up into Maine. I caught Lynette's eyes and looked towards my Secret Service detail. "On it," she mouthed to me.

The dinner finally ended just after eight, and I headed back to the Oval Office to get the latest. Valerie was waiting for me. "Julio's in the area?"

"Police found the truck in a church parking lot about two hours south of here on I-95. It was cold, so we are assuming he could be in the vicinity already. I've placed your protective detail on alert and called in additional agents."

That was reasonable. "Any evidence Julio is coming for the White House?"

"Nothing yet. We are flooding the area with law enforcement to try and find him. Colletta and Frank Grimes were very helpful; they said a jaguar could move twenty to thirty miles in a night and stay undetected. They don't think he's anywhere near the truck by now, but we'll keep looking. In jaguar form, Julio's natural camouflage will make spotting him difficult at night. He can't change his body heat, though, so he will show up on night vision. We've put extra snipers on the roof, added additional cameras, and cut down the lights away from the building. If he tries to get across the lawn, we'll get him."

"Good." The rest of the group joined me and didn't have much to add.

"The existence of CIA Black Sites has always been a closely guarded national security secret," DNI General Ripley said. "The information is highly compartmentalized, and the budgets are the blackest of black. The agents and contractors operating them are operating under deep cover, often using only codenames. We are still trying to identify them based on the DNA from the helicopter wreck. It's a mess, Madam President, and I can't give you the answers you want."

"What CAN you tell me?"

"The oil rig was leased by a shell company incorporated in the Cayman Islands. FAA records show a long-range helicopter flight to that area the day they took Julio from Federal lockup that was not related to ongoing oil operations. We're still looking at records, but we've identified weekly flights meeting that criteria. I would suspect they brought most supplies in by boat, and we're checking local marinas. We've also identified seven unique bodies in the helicopter wreckage, none positively identified as their fingerprints are not in our systems."

"You have nothing," I concluded.

"The investigation is ongoing," the Attorney General said.

I shook my head. "That's the line I'll have to use with the Werewolf Council. 'Actually, we DID have Julio at a black site prison, and those likely WERE domestic CIA teams who attacked Maria, but it's all right. The investigation is ongoing.' That will go over like a fart in church." No one said anything; what could you say? "All right, clear out of here. I've got a meeting to get ready for."

Ch. 34

Maria Meztli's POV

Arrowhead Pack House

Thomas Kendall left after we met with the Sheriff's Department detectives and the FBI. I gave my statement about the ATV takedown; it was straight self-defense, and Thomas stopped them from going elsewhere. Special Agent Allison Cook had more questions, and she was well-informed about the Pack and its activities. Lance told me she had been one of two agents assigned to watch Arrowhead from the inside when they got exposed to the world, and she was a good agent. I answered most of her questions, starting with my hiding out at the cabin through my time on the run. Thomas kept the interrogation on track; after all, I didn't know anything about Club activities. Underage girls like me stayed in the Clubhouse area, never even getting in the conference room where business got done.

When they finished, Thomas went back to his office to get help. He worked at the big Duluth law firm of Dewey, DeWitt & Howe. Now that I was not a criminal suspect, I needed assistance from a civil litigator and an estate lawyer. Both were in-house and covered by the retainer I'd given him earlier.

Why would I need more lawyers? Well, there was the matter of my parent's estate. Neither parent got convicted of anything, but the DEA had seized their assets that rightfully belonged to me. They can seize assets obtained through criminal activities, but you have to have proof of that. Dad owned a legitimate business, and Mom worked too. Dad was too smart to mix his money like that. An estate lawyer could deal with everything and get me my inheritance back.

And then there was Maritza. As her only living relative, I needed to push through a formal adoption as soon as possible. The last thing I needed was the Government coming in to place her in foster care! Maritza was also entitled to her parent's estate and other benefits. Thomas was right; I had to protect her rights because she couldn't.

I also needed a civil litigation attorney because I was going to sue the US Government. After I recounted my time in Mexico, Thomas brought it up, and Lance showed him the drone footage and communications we'd obtained from the FBI server. You see, the CIA knew the compound was full of innocent women and children; you could even hear the drone pilot talking about it. The CIA team didn't care; they wanted the Mexican Sons of Tezcatlipoca dead, and they didn't want to leave it to the nearby Mexican military.

If that wasn't enough, they knew some of the people were U.S. citizens. "You've got strong grounds for a wrongful death lawsuit over these extra-judicial deaths," Thomas told me. "The Government may be able to justify killing drug dealers and violent gang members, but the footage is damning. They knew women and children were present, and they launched anyway. You lost family members, and Maritza lost her parents. The Administration can't sweep this under the rug; it's going to be a huge scandal for them."

"Money can't bring our parents back," I'd said.

"No, but it can set the two of you up for life, and the lawsuit will push accountability," he said. "My firm can represent you on a contingency basis; it won't cost you anything, but we retain thirty percent of anything we recover. We'll be seeking a significant settlement for each of you. It's another reason to clarify your legal status with Maritza because you can sue on her behalf."

I looked over at Lance. "What do you think?"

"The press will eat up you sitting in court with Maritza in your lap talking about how the CIA orphaned both of you. The bad publicity alone will scare the shit out of the government lawyers," he said. "Mr. Kendall is right; it's a no-lose situation that costs you nothing up-front. I would bet they would offer a big settlement in exchange for your silence."

"Damn," I said. "All right. I'm in."

Thomas smiled. "I'll meet with our team and bring them out here tomorrow to start the process. Dewey, DeWitt & Howe is going to fight for you, Maria."

"Thank you." He got escorted offsite while I remained in the room with Lance, soon joined by Alpha Chase. "Alpha?"

"Lance kept me informed," Chase said before I could explain. "You have our backing. Spider Monkey already set aside funds for Maritza, just like she did for you."

"You aren't going to talk me out of suing the government because of your relationship with them?"

Chase shook his head, no. "All that stuff happened before you joined us, Maria. It's your business, not ours. Honestly, it will work in our favor. People won't stand for the CIA 'disappearing' people to secret prisons or assassinating innocent citizens. The fact that they are doing it to a Were species helps us, in a way."

I hadn't expected that. "Thank you," I replied. "And thank you all for your welcome. It's been a little overwhelming, but I like it here. You have good people in this Pack."

"The best," he said with a smile. "Now, it's late, and Maritza is falling asleep on her feet in the pool."

My eyes got wide. "I'll go get Maritza right now! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to burden the nannies with her."

Lance just laughed at that. "The ladies love Maritza just like they love the other babies in our Pack. Miracles, every one of them." We went back to the pool, finding Maritza sleeping in the arms of one of the nannies. I picked her up and followed Lance back to our rooms in Beta Vic's home. After all the excitement, both of us slept well that night.

The next day, Lance and I accompanied the patrol, and this time it was all quiet. It turned out that the attackers were local anti-were activists motivated by the reward money. Yes, they were dumb enough to send four middle-aged guys armed with hunting rifles against a Pack with warriors and dozens of trained snipers. The survivors were facing Federal attempted kidnapping charges, and since men died, that made it Felony Murder. As Lance said, they were idiots.