It Needed Doin' - Kiki Narvaez

I was, by nature, irritated.

Everything about my last five assignments, basically the last three years, made me angry. The job was more than dirty enough, but while myself and the team had a number of small wins checked off in the column, there were huge black checkmarks in the 'losses' columns.

I know my job was in danger, even though it was a shit job. It was why I'd decided that if this current assignment went to hell, I was transferring out. I hoped that I could get a slot in Quantico, and get a shot at the Bureau if it came to it. I still think Scully was cool. The trouble was, most FBI agents were stiff asshats. Not all, but most.

The primary concern though, was to be in the field. Deskwork bored me to death. It was inescapable, but I avoided it as much as I could get away with.

Being in the DEA, sometimes I could go a couple of weeks without doing paperwork. That was likely to change tomorrow.

This assignment was completely fucked.

Bastrop, Texas, had been the worst assignment we could have been handed, in hindsight. It wasn't even good, we'd thought, when we'd been given it. Our record had irritated someone, and so, we got sent to this boar's-crotch of an assignment.

After we'd been given this job, which was supposed to "be easy, even for you people," I'd been pulled aside, and the assignment had taken on a darker nature... I was told to spy on my own team.

++++++

"Narvaez, this assignment is an easy one. We know the who, the how, and how much. It's a pipeline stopover, we've got the details. Two months, get us enough to prosecute with, and then you go get the bad guys." Mallone had told her.

"For you though, it's a bit different..." he'd said, spinning and then standing up out of his chair. "I think you've got a snitch. I think someone on your team is feeding info to someone on the outside, which is why your last three years have been in the shitter."

"Here's what's what..." he said, passing Kiki a cup of bad government coffee. "...this one's easy. We've already got it all, we grabbed a guy who spilled. We're giving you everything. Your job is to watch everyone on your team. You're the number two, Baez is still lead. You watch everyone. You find the leak, okay? That's what this assignment is really about. We need that leak. Then at the end, you snatch up the bad guys, you get a big collar, and you redeem yourselves."

"Why me?" I'd asked.

"As mean as you can be, you're dedicated." Mallone had assured me. "You're my choice. If I had nobody on your team I trusted, I would have just broken you up by now, given you all new team assignments, and waited to see what team started having trouble, while having the FBI and Justice crawl up all your asses."

"This is it. Last chance. Find that leak." He'd finished with.

++++++

It had gone to infierno sin dios, as my Abuela Narvaez says.

It wasn't just a pipeline stopover. It was a stomping ground.

I don't know what made Alvarez, the local 'manager' in charge such a dramatic bitch, but he was working my last nerve. The guy was 'testosterone overload' and 'toxic macho' personified.

He'd known about us as soon as we got there. Cover was blown on sight, and he let us know. He had no respect for us, and he dared us every chance he could.

Nothing we tried to check out worked. Everyone we investigated was gone.

I'd called Mallone.

"You know why you're there, Narvaez. Do your job."

I'd done my job. I found the leak. I wish I hadn't.

The leak wasn't anyone on the team. It was Baez's wife.

The team leaders wife was our leak. You have no idea how disgusted I was.

Now I had to rescue the bitch.

What was beyond belief was that Alvarez had somehow snatched up Baez's wife and daughter, shipped them to Bastrop, and was holding them hostage. Making Baez sacrifice himself to Alvarez's image.

"Nobody fucks with me," is what Alvarez was trying to proclaim.

Which was moronic... all the info about what was happening, and had happened, was already back in Arlington. A scary amount of DEA was on the way, there were Texas Rangers walking around angry, I had been tripping over Marshals, and even the state police were trying to act cool.

If Alvarez thought he was going to kill a DEA Agent on video, and make it go viral, in defiance of the U.S. Government, he was too stupid to let live. The cajones on him weren't in doubt, but brains? Nada.

While Baez and a metric stupid-load of good ole boys were on their way to have a showdown with what they assumed was Alvarez and his brain-challenged posse, I was on my own to rescue Baez's wife and kid... the leverage.

As long as Alvarez had them, he could screw with the team leader's heart, even though the bitch had betrayed him. I'd get the story on that later.

I'd only had a couple of hours to work, but the simple tactic of 'squeeze-the-minion' had worked out yet again, and I'd gotten a location.

I'd also been told that Alvarez had no intention of meeting with Baez and his horde of trigger-happy yahoos.

Which was scary, because it showed either Alvarez or someone around him was smarter than they looked. Which wouldn't be hard.

++++++

It was just a warehouse. Edge of town, loading dock, cracked pavement, chain-link fence, and two fixed cameras trained on the doors and parking lots.

Other than jumping the fence, I didn't even try for subtle. There wasn't time.

I walked up to the first sliding door I came to that wasn't being watched by a camera, and saw that there was a chain and padlock on the outside. Standard intimidation lock on the door though. The chain and padlock were hanging loose.

I tried the door. Locked. Not unexpected. At least I wouldn't need the bolt-cutters yet.

The quiet drill I'd brought, with the carbon and titanium four-inch hole bit, brought in my too-heavy burlap bag full of goodies, cut around the face of the lock. I had to hold the trigger and push with my hip, I wasn't willing to drop my Glock. I kept expecting the door to be pulled open from the other side, and I expected to put 9mm holes in someone for it. The channel-locks grabbed what I needed inside the door, and then the door was unlocked.

Hoping I wouldn't need any more toys, I put my bag down beside the door, checked my Glock 17, put on the suppressor, made certain I had three more magazines ready for use, and in I went. I didn't bother pulling down the velcro'd strip on my jacket that would reveal the big yellow letters saying 'DEA' on the back and front.

Protocol was that I'd cut power and water, then wait for a small army to show up.

Alvarez and friends would see an army pull up. Cutting water was stupid, and cutting power would just let them know I was here. Most guns don't need electricity to work, so duh. I needed to get in quiet, see what was to see, and do what I could. If I was lucky, I'd have surprise, and the bad guys would be armed.

Except I'm not much for sneaking. I don't have that brand of patience.

I got lucky, there wasn't anyone at the door. That was stupid too. Tontos.

I went inside, saw nobody was there, and closed the door behind me.

I didn't do a sweep of the first big room I found, I was in a rush. I just went by what I could see.

Next room was different. I peeked through the crack in the door I'd made, and across the room, next to a big bay door that was closed, was Alvarez, and two of his cronies. Also there were two barrels, and what looked like a few gascans. Alvaraez was looking at a laptop, which was atop a barrel. The two goons were armed, with what looked like AK-47's... One of the AK's looked... ok, that was off. Well, the guns were slung. I'd have about a second and a half, if they knew what they were doing, before they could get those guns into play.

None of them were particularly attentive. Maybe I had a chance.

Alvarez's back was to me, and he was typing away. He said something to one of the guys next to him, who was wearing sunglasses, in a poorly lit warehouse. Idiotas completes.

There were small islands of cover, and I strained my patience working my way from one to the other, keeping out of sight. I needed to get as close as I could. I'm a good shot, but not so good I can drop three targets from this distance without something going against me. Not with a Glock.

At each cover, I'd stop and scan. I couldn't believe there were only Alvarez and two henches. There had to be some hanging around.

Even Alvarez couldn't be this stupid. Could he?

I kept looking up into the rafters, expecting to see someone with a rifle up there. An 'eye in the sky.' I never spotted anything.

With two more spots for cover available, as I worked my way toward the bad guys, I finally got a look at what had bothered me about that AK I'd spotted earlier.

Someone had painted the Russian made gun green, white and red, with what looked like the Mexican Eagle on it.

Dios arriba, what was this, a Robert Rodriguez movie?

Maybe these guys were that stupid.

I was going to do humanities gene pool a favor.

Over the next ten minutes, I made it to the closest-to-Alvarez cover I could use. A fork-lift. I made certain my feet were behind a wheel, and I was bent over, hiding my profile. Not a comfortable position, but faster than crouching if things went south on me.

I wasn't quite close enough.

I could get two... probably... but not three. I doubted I could get three.

I guess I was now waiting for luck, a break, who-knows-what?

"That's five now," Alvarez said, speaking Spanish. "One more to go. This is going to be great."

"What are you going to do once you upload?" asked the goon with the colorful AK.

"Get back." Alvarez answered. "It's going to be too hot here for a while. We'll go back, enjoy our new reputation, and when we get told to set up again, we will. Just with more money."

"That sounds really good to me."

"We'll be the guys who beat the DEA, and embarrassed them all." Alvarez was chuckling. "They'll think twice before they fuck with me again."

Then it was quiet for a minute.

"Okay, that's six." Alvarez sounded satisfied. "More than enough. They'll never stop all of this, especially what we're sending to Brazil and the Ukraine."

"Are you certain he'll do it?" a voice asked.

"If he doesn't, someone will." Alvarez assured. "If Baez doesn't shoot the marshals, someone will shoot him. We'll have that on camera."

"And the rest?"

"We've wired the entire school. On top of that, remember, we've got the three crews ready with those RPG's we got. That school gets blown, and we will get that on camera too."

There was a noise of someone moving, and a weird thumping sound.

"We'll be the guys who killed a assload of US agents, and put it up on the internet for all to see. Nobody will dare fuck with us in this country after that, and home will be scared to cross us. Then in a couple of years, we set up again." Alvarez explained.

This was one of the dumbest plans ever. This was movie bullshit. Who in his cartel thought this was a good idea? These guys wouldn't last a week if this...

Maybe that was the point?

I didn't know. But I wasn't even going to let this start.

The thumping noise repeated itself.

"She's awake," someone said.

Who was awake?

"That's fine." Alvarez said. "We'll use it. More pressure for Baez. Hold on..."

I could hear typing.

"There she is." Alvarez proclaimed. He then switched to accented English. "Hello little girl! How are you in there?"

No, are you kidding me? I poked my head up slightly, and I could see the laptop screen, looking around Alvarez. The other two thugs were leaning in so they could see too.

It was Baez's girl, Sophia. There was a camera on her, and she was crunched up, in a small tube it looked like. There was blue light, but the camera seemed to have light of its own shining down.

Sophia screamed, and I didn't hear it from the laptop... I heard it in the room. I heard it come from the plastic blue barrel that was beside the one the laptop was on.

"Yeah, she's awake now." Alvarez smiled.

The screen showed Sophia was now struggling, and the barrel was rocking. The matón next to it put his hand on the top to steady it. Sophia apparently had her hands tied behind her back. It was hard to tell. She was screaming and throwing her head and shoulders back and forth, trying to get free.

Now I could see there was an open hole in the top. It looked like some kind of lid went over the small hole. The entire top of the barrel was held on with some kind of metal strapping it looked like, but there was a small port on top. Two, actually. I think. I don't know barrels.

They'd actually put a camera inside the barrel, so they could see the girls terror. Malditos demonios...

It wasn't hard to put together now, now that I had the idea this was about macho movie drama crap.

Baez's wife and kid were in the barrels. Alvarez contacts Baez, when the trap is about to be sprung, and he tells Baez to start shooting the other agents and officers. Of course, Baez gets cut down, everyone will be on edge, walking into an abandoned school like they are. Once people are dead, Alvarez blows the building. Anyone trying to get out gets a rocket-powered grenade, probably old Russian ordinance, in the door as they run.

Dead agents everywhere.

Alvarez films it, uploads it, and thinks he becomes the biggest badass on the block.

Completely stupid plan, on a whole bunch of levels.

Only Baez and two others would be going into the building if they followed procedure, there would be 'eagle-eye' air cover, if they had the equipment there would be thermal imaging done (as best possible) to confirm people in the school before entering, the area would be scouted for snipers and remote observers, etc, etc... this was a stupid plan.

Only a moron would think this would work.

The fun and insulting part though, was because I am a woman, Alvarez couldn't believe I was anything of value to the team, beyond being that I am... female. He probably counted the other five members, and left me out of his calculations. Misogyny makes men stupid.

Or that was my own ego talking. It did that sometimes.

A glanced through the lifts cage mesh again, and I started marking targets. That was when I noticed the gas cans again.

I knew this from somewhere,... a bell was ringing...

Oh, shit. Mierda. I got it now.

If Baez balked, Alvarez would pour the gas into the barrel, light it, and let Baez watch over his phone.

It was a negotiation tactic used by Mexican and Columbian gangsters who kidnapped tourists for ransom. It worked.

Dramatic bullshit in this situation. Do this to DEA, and it's war.

I wasn't going to let it get to that. I removed the suppressor from my Glock.

++++++

"We'll do his wife first." Alvarez said. "That will show our resolve, then he'll sacrifice himself to save his daughter."

"Smart," said one goon.

"I'll let him shoot two, then I'll send the signal." Alvarez continued.

All three chuckled, until the man with the multi-colored AK-47 fell sideways, and a gunshot announced he'd been shot.

The second man, was swiveling his head, trying to find the shooter in the next second, and then he jerked as a 9mm bullet entered his ribs. He joined the other man on the ground.

Alvarez was pivoting in place, reaching for his pistol, as he spotted the small woman walking toward him, her gun leveled at him.

Alvarez froze, not quite understanding how a woman was walking up, steel in her eyes, and had shot his empleados.

Kiki Narvaez confidently strode up to him, coming within five feet, saying nothing. Alvarez could tell if he continued reaching for his pistol, she would shoot. He knew it in his rapidly emptying bladder, which he mistakenly interpreted as a completely different organ.

She stopped, her gun leveled at Alvarez's face. She just looked at him.

Alvarez was afraid to move.

A second later, the woman's eyes flicked downward, and seemed to fix on...

Alvarez became aware he had pissed himself.

The woman's eyes raised again, to stare into his. Then she started to smile.

Alvarez, feeling shame and humiliation, couldn't let what was happening stand. His hand started moving to his pistol again.

The bullet took him just under his left eye, close to the nose, at a mild upward angle. Alvarez's head snapped back as he fell over.

Narvaez then walked among the bodies on the ground, estimating entry-wound angles as best she could, fired six more times, two bullets into each body on the floor. Then she moved the rifles and Alvarez's pistol to different spots.

"DEA. Drop your weapons." Narvaez said calmly, as she lowered her weapon.

She surveyed the corpses on the floor, and heard the screams coming from the barrel.

"Meirda," she said. "I got it backward again."

Pulling out her phone, she hit a few buttons, and waited until the phone was picked up on the other end.

"Baez?" she asked perfunctorily. "Narvaez. Call it off, I have your wife and kid, Alvarez is down."

++++++

Arlington never changes. Well, one thing changed... Mallone was pissed. But that was consistent too.

"I'm breaking up your team," he told me, alone, in his office.

"What?" I spouted, coming forward in my chair. "Why? We got Alvarez! I know it was a shitshow, but we got him, we plugged a pipeline, we caught the leak, and everyone worth anything walked away!"

"You didn't catch a leak... Alvarez gave us the leak." Mallone glared at me. "If that moron hadn't pulled that hostage bull..." He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead as he sat behind his desk.

"Yeah, he was a maldito idiota, but we got them!" I protested. "We don't even have to do the trial thing! This is closed!"

"Yes, it's closed," Mallone confirmed, turning his chair to face the large window. That's how you knew he was in charge... he had a big window. "But it came at a cost."

I waited for him to go on.

"Baez is being retired," he went on. "He's a security leak... now and forever, even if he divorces his wife. And he's divorcing her. He can't accept she was giving info over to someone, and she didn't trust him. He wants to be there for his daughter when it all washes out. He's still got to get past his charges though. He will, but it's going to take time."

"His wife was being threatened..." I said. Mallone held up a hand, signaling he'd already heard it, but I didn't care. "Every week, she got a picture of their kid, or her mother, or her sister and her family... all with someone in their background sporting a cartel tattoo! She thought she was keeping her family safe! For three years she was doing her best in a horrible situation!"

"Lower your voice with me Karen..." Mallone near growled, but still not looking at me. "I know all that. I'm fighting for them. I'll do what I can, but everyone on this ladder answers to someone, qualified or not, and some of those people are angry. I'm going to do my best, you hear me?"

I was inhaling to let lose another torrent, but Mallone saw it coming.

"... and I do NOT DESERVE SHIT FROM YOU." Mallone declared. "What was done wasn't entirely in my control, especially once you all got on-site. How it went down is going to be a dirty secret forever. I am trying to protect your team, YOU... you gun-happy bitch... the entire section... we do good work when we can, and I need to keep us intact to KEEP doing that good work!"

"I am already catching heat from on-high, and I do not need it coming from under me now. Do you understand?!" He told me loudly.

I'm pretty certain I was looking at him with a challenge on my face.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND, AGENT NARVAEZ?!" He asked, but it wasn't a question.

I looked at him, and I could tell he was feeling the situation. He'd kept us, especially me, out of trouble before. I snap-decided to let up on him, his volume didn't bother me. He was being my Boss, and I guess someone had to.