Aztec Treasure Ch. 61-70

People were going to die because of my actions, and I was all right with that. Traitors deserve to die. "I need to know where you want the money to end up."

Frank handed me a business card with directions printed on the back. My eyes got wide as I saw his writing. "Are you sure?"

"We are."

I stashed the card in my wallet. "You're the boss." There wasn't much more to talk about, so I used the bathroom, and we ate the food the kitchen sent along for us. We landed just after one, and Vic parked near the branch location he'd picked. We poked around some of the shops, then sat at an outdoor café for an afternoon snack. The phone buzzed as I ate my pecan pie with ice cream; the message said "4:15." I looked at my watch; we had twenty minutes until I needed to start the transfers.

We finished our food and paid the bill. Vic walked me the two blocks to the bank, then went to retrieve the rental car. "Call me when done," he told me.

I kissed him and walked inside. Ignoring the lines at the tellers, I found a banker at one of the desks and got her attention. "I need to access my numbered account," I told her.

"Of course, Ma'am." She led me through a door to a secure area. "Your thumbprint, please," she said when I reached the door where an armed guard stood. I slipped the thin printed thumb-skin over my own, placing it on the reader. The light flashed green, and the electronic lock opened. Inside the small room are a desk, a computer terminal, and a chair. "Knock on the door when you finish, and the guard will let you out."

"Thank you."

I looked at my phone; I had six minutes. I logged into the CIA account first, noting the latest cash deposit credited this morning. Another twenty-four million and change meant for Cartel accounts but now was under my control. I pulled out the card Frank had given me and got to work.

At exactly four-fifteen, I made the transfer and then changed the password. Logging out, I put on the second thumbprint and logged into the Cartel account. A minute later, all but the ten-thousand-dollar account minimum was on its way to its new home. Changing that password as well, I logged out of the account and gathered my things. I also called Vic and told him to meet me out front. Standing up, I knocked on the door and waited for it to open.

"Thank you," I told the guard as he opened the door.

He escorted me to the lobby door, holding it open for me. "Have a good day, Ma'am."

I pulled my phone out as I walked to the doors, calling Vic to pick me up. I'd barely made the sidewalk when he pulled up so I could get in. "We good?"

"Perfect," I said. I took out the burner phone, texted 'Done' to Frank, then broke the phone in half. It didn't seem real; in five minutes, I'd stolen hundreds of millions of dollars and placed it outside the reach of the Cartel and the CIA black operators. "Where are we going?"

"Ocean City," he said. "I found a nice little bed and breakfast on the beach."

"Now you're talking my language," I said. "Wake me up when we're there." I fell asleep before we got on the freeway.

Ch. 67

CIA Station Chief Henry Consuellar's POV

Mexico City, Mexico

"Wait for me," I told Brad as he came to a stop in front of the Banco Mexico offices.

"Yes, sir," he said. Brad was a recent addition to my CIA team in Mexico and wasn't aware of the purpose of my bank runs. Alejandro was. He got out before me, checked the sidewalk for threats, then waved for me to exit the armored car. Mexico was a dangerous place to be a spy before the Cartels, and it was worse now. The CIA's support of the Sinaloa cartel had not gone unnoticed by their rivals.

Alejandro was one of those guys who looks dangerous while sleeping. The former Army Ranger and Los Angeles County SWAT member looked at people like he was looking for a reason NOT to kill them. His jacket covered up his twin Heckler-Koch MP7A1 submachine guns with armor-piercing rounds, plus a backup Glock 21 in .45 ACP. The armed guards at the bank entrance nodded at him as we passed; we were regular visitors at this branch.

The assistant branch manager saw us coming and ran to assist us. "This way, sir," he said as he led us to the secure banking terminals.

I used my thumbprint to open the door, and Alejandro verified the room was empty before allowing me inside. I sat down at the terminal and entered my account number and password. The computer gave me an error message before I could reach out for the thumbprint. "ACCOUNT NUMBER OR PASSWORD INCORRECT, WARNING 1 OF 3," it said.

I started over, double-checking the account number, then entering my password carefully. Hitting ENTER got me the same message. "Dammit," I said. I double-checked the caps lock wasn't on, checked the account number against the number in my wallet, and carefully typed in the password. "PASSWORD INCORRECT, ACCOUNT IS LOCKED. CONTACT ADMINISTRATOR FOR ASSISTANCE."

I'd NEVER had this happen before. I got up and pulled the door open, yelling at the assistant manager to get over here. He was apologetic, taking my account number so he could contact Account Services.

Five minutes later, the Assistant Manager came back with the Branch Manager. Both men looked like they had to say Old Yeller died. "Sir, there is a problem with this account," the Branch Manager said.

"No shit. I can't access it," I said.

"I'll need to see identification and verify your thumbprint before I can discuss this account," he said. I handed him my passport, which he compared to the information in the folder he was carrying. He then had me scan my thumbprint. The computer compared it to print on file for my name. "I don't know how to say this, Mr. Consuellar. According to the account records, you accessed the account," he looked at his watch, "one hour and twenty-one minutes ago from a branch in Washington, DC. The password change happened before you logged off."

I couldn't believe it. "I'm RIGHT FUCKING HERE," I yelled. "HOW COULD I BE IN WASHINGTON EIGHTY-ONE MINUTES AGO?"

He nervously swallowed. "You can't, of course. I've placed a fraud hold on the account while we investigate. The fraud hold will prevent anyone from accessing the account until the investigation is complete."

"And how long will that take?"

"Days, maybe weeks, depending on what we find. I assure you we will work diligently to fix this."

Shit. The lockout was fucking UNACCEPTABLE. I needed to transfer the money to the Cartel accounts TODAY. "I have time-sensitive financial transactions pending. I can't wait weeks!"

"I'm sorry, sir. Substantial financial transactions involving this account occurred just before the password change."

I damn near dropped to the ground; as it was, I had to reach back and sit down before I passed out. "What do you mean by 'substantial'?"

"I'm afraid I cannot divulge that information without a valid password entry, sir."

I shook my head. "You locked the account because someone else changed it, but you can't tell me because I don't have the password."

"I'm very sorry, sir. We are required to freeze accounts when there is evidence of fraud."

I wasn't going to get any help from these guys. I needed to warn my Cartel contact about the delay before they started wondering where their money was. If they thought I'd turned on them, I'd watch them kill my family in front of me before a painful death of my own.

"Let's go," I told Alejandro. He escorted me out of the building to the SUV waiting a half-block away.

I got into the back seat, only to find a man sitting by the opposite door with a gun pointing at my head. "Don't do a fucking thing," he warned me.

"Put your hands on the car," another voice said. I could see two men behind Alejandro, each holding pistols. He wasn't suicidal; he didn't move as they relieved him of his guns. He was handcuffed and pushed into the third row, where one of the men sat with him while the other sat by me. The door closed, and the car drove away. It wasn't Brad driving, either.

The man who had just gotten in handcuffed my hands, then roughly searched me for weapons. Finding none, he allowed me to sit back in the seat. The man in charge was in the passenger seat; when his men reported the prisoners were secure. "Who are you guys? And do you know who I am?"

"Peter Graves, Diplomatic Security Service senior agent," the man in the front said. "And yes, I know who and what you are, Henry. That is why the President sent me here. The question is what you are going to do now."

"You're making a mistake. The Company won't stand for this!"

"The CIA is being brought to heel. As we speak, agents are raiding your agency's Safe House and seizing all of your computers and records. What I want to know from you is whether we should turn left or right."

"The fuck do you mean?"

"You are fucked either way; I'm giving you the choice of who does the fucking and whether they use lube," Peter said with a grin. "You are probably wondering why you couldn't access the CIA account with the Sinaloa Cartel money in it. Our people seized the account and transferred the thirty-eight-million-dollar balance to your checking account in the States. Naturally, the transfer of so much cash from a Mexican bank raised flags with the Drug Enforcement Agency and the Treasury Department. They immediately seized the account."

I started feeling faint. Most of that money was Sinaloa cartel cash. "Do you have any idea what you have done?"

"I imagine your buddies in the Sinaloa Cartel are not pleased with you right now. If we turn left, we drive to Culiacan and drop you off with your business associates. I'm sure you will have a lot to talk about with them. They are reasonable men. I'm sure they'll understand you are the victim of hacking and let your family live."

"Or what?"

"If we turn right, we go to the airfield and board a jet for Washington." He held up a paper for me. "This is the Attorney General's offer for you. Your family will go into Witness Protection. For you, she is offering life without parole and no death penalty. This deal only happens if you cooperate fully and immediately. You'll answer the investigator's questions and testify against the other conspirators in the plot to assassinate the United States President. If you don't take the deal, the next guy will."

I couldn't admit to that! "What conspiracy?"

"I was hoping you'd say that. It's the one that took the life of a brave Air Force fighter pilot. Take a left up ahead; it looks like we're taking a long ride in the countryside."

Jesus Christ! How the hell did they find out? I was out of options because I didn't want to end up in a shallow grave in the desert. "NO! FINE. I'll cooperate."

The man to my left took a digital recorder out of his pocket and turned it on. The man in charge smiled in triumph. "Start talking. The minute we think you are lying to us, we turn around."

"Last year, five of us were at a CIA leadership retreat when the topic turned to the President," I started. I was still talking when we reached the aircraft.

Ch. 68

Colletta Grimes POV

White House, Oval Office

I'd arranged for a thirty-minute meeting with the President, requesting that she include only her Chief of Staff, the Attorney General, and the Director of National Intelligence. Frank and I had worked with our Pack lawyer, Ralph Emerson, on the plane. We'd printed the final copies out just before landing.

We passed through security and waited with the Chief of Staff for President Kettering to finish her meeting with Congressional leadership. "Any hints," Lynette Johnson asked as we waited for the other.

"Not now," Frank replied.

Attorney General Marisol Guttierez and the DNI, General Curtis Ripley, joined us. At our request, we waited until everyone was cleared out of the Oval Office before we entered and closed the doors behind us. "Frank, Colletta," Laura said with a smile as she got up to greet us.

"Madam President," I said. "We have a way to both uncover the conspiracy and strike back at the Sinaloa Cartel."

"That's outstanding," Laura said. "Your shadow task force found something?"

"Not quite," Frank said. "You have friends in our kind, and our Packs have reach and resources that law enforcement can't duplicate. One of these resources made a breakthrough. Some of what they did will allow us to take legal actions against those responsible, while others must remain hidden."

"This breakthrough of yours? You didn't obtain it legally," Marisol surmised.

"No," I replied. "Frank is a sworn law enforcement agent; he had nothing to do with this, as we limited his purview to supervising our shadow task force. The people involved are talented hackers. Before we proceed further, I'll need your signature on this." I handed her the pardon letter, which absolved Spider Monkey and her fellow hackers, plus a half-dozen warriors and Arrowhead Pack leadership, from prosecution for specified illegal acts committed within one year of the signature date. The details listed in the attachment would remain classified, and the original signed document would return with me to Arrowhead. If no one ever figured out what they did, no one would know.

General Ripley read through the document, whistling when he read what they had been able to do. He looked at me in shock. "Do your friends need a job?"

"They are good where they are," I said.

"At least you guys are paying taxes on the stolen money this time," Marisol added as she set the paper down. "Seriously? You plan to steal a billion dollars from the Cartel?"

"It's a simple plan," Frank said. "We've identified one of the major conspiracy actors as the CIA's Station Chief in Mexico City, Henry Consuellar. We need agents in place to raid his home, his Embassy office, and the CIA's Safe House when our people tell you to go."

"There are national secrets everywhere in those places," General Curtis said.

Frank nodded. "Then send good men to secure them. You are bound to find evidence of the conspiracy in at least one of those places."

I continued. "Our people will be following Henry around. We know from his account history when the Cartel cash comes into his off-books bank account. Within a few hours, Consuellar personally transfers it to their account minus his fee. He has to do that in the bank itself, at one of their secure terminals. When he goes into the account rooms, cellphone signals are blocked. That's when you hit the three locations. Our people will pick Henry up when he leaves the bank."

"Your people? Why not ours?"

"If you pick him up, he gets a lawyer and clams up. We have ways of making him talk before the other conspirators even know something is wrong."

Marisol wasn't convinced. "You can't torture him; anything you say will never stand up in court."

I knew they would say that. "Don't worry about that. Henry will voluntarily give up everything before he enters US airspace. When my people have all the information from him, we'll leave him at the airport for your agents to find. Our people will send secure text messages to a number of your choice with the names we uncover. As for probable cause for warrants, you can start with this." I handed the Attorney General a memory disk. "On this chip are account activity statements for the CIA black account, the intermediary banks used with their data, and Cartel accounts. The transfers prove the CIA off-books account paid the lease of the black site prison, funded by laundering drug money for the Sinaloa Cartel. Henry Consuellar is one of three account holders and is primarily responsible for the suspect transfers."

"The other two?"

"One we haven't identified, the other is the deceased Deputy Director of Covert Operations," Frank replied. "Oh, and we need you to place Henry's family in protective custody. The Cartel won't be happy with him."

"It's a profitable operation for you," General Curtis said. "A billion dollars?"

"Before taxes," I said with a smile. "The CIA funds get transferred to Henry's bank account in the States, where you can immediately seize the money. Your agencies don't have the authority or ability to seize this money before the Cartel transfers it out. The Mexican Government owns Banco Mexico but is a front for the Sinaloa Cartel. Our people can steal it out from under their noses, and you can announce a money-laundering investigation resulted in the confiscation of their funds. Your people don't get specific on WHO took it," I said with a laugh. "So, we need you to sign the paperwork."

President Kettering and Attorney General Guittierez conferred briefly, then signed the agreement. "General Curtis, prepare the operation and coordinate with Colletta as needed to take down this conspiracy. Colletta, thank you for doing this. We will keep your names out of the official investigation."

I returned the signed pardon agreement to my purse. "We'll get to work." With that, Frank and I headed back to the plane. Chase was already moving assets into Mexico in anticipation of the agreement. I texted him a short message. "It's ON."

Frank squeezed my hand as we waited for our car to come around. "Are we doing the right thing here?"

"I hope to Luna that we are," I said. "I feel bad for Spider Monkey. She can never come home now."

"I think she knows, but I'll let her break the news to Vic. He's going to have to keep her safe, and that means minimal contact with the Packs."

"The money will help. Eventually, the Sinaloa Cartel will be no more, and then we can bring them back to Arrowhead." We loaded into the car, and I leaned onto his shoulder as we drove away.

General Curtis let me know when he'd have teams ready, and Chase's extraction team was standing by. Frank sent the go-time to Spider Monkey on the burner phone.

There was no turning back now.

I hope they get a video recording of Henry when he finds out the people he just confessed his treason to aren't even Federal agents, and there was no plea agreement with the Justice Department.

Next time, ask for identification.

Spider Monkey's POV

Ocean City, Maryland

The bed-and-breakfast was beautiful, and I spent a few hours napping on the chairs overlooking the ocean before our dinner arrived. Vic didn't want me to go any farther than knee-deep in the ocean waves while I planned to spend a lot of time in bed with him.

I put Haley Donohue's "Midwatch" down when the food was ready. Vic had set up the small table for us on the deck, the light ocean breeze swirling around my sundress. I kept the conversation light, but eventually, I had to come clean. "Vic? What I did today will have consequences for us."

"What do you mean?"

"I could hack account data remotely, but I had to go into that branch and use their terminal to make the transfers. The security cameras are not connected externally, so there is a video record of me entering and exiting the room. Eventually, someone will use facial recognition or other technology to figure out I was the one who stole the Cartel's money. They will come after us."

He leaned back in his chair, running this through his head. "I thought the money was going to the Federal Government, and they would take credit."

"The CIA black account money is already in their hands. The Cartel cash is different, Vic. The DEA can't seize drug money without cooperation from the bank and the government, and Mexico wasn't going to help. I took a billion dollars from them. I have automatic transactions set up; by tomorrow night, the money will go through six offshore banks and end up, legally, in the United States under a Pack shell company account."

He drained his beer and opened another while he thought about it. "Did the Alphas know about this?"

I nodded. "We agreed that it was the only way to punish the Cartel for what they did. We can do a lot of good with this money, Vic."