Path To Justice

Chapter One

Purplus Humvee brought up to El Paso that the cartel kept in central Mexico. He arranged for a rocket launcher that the Baja Norte Familia had stored in their munitions warehouse in El Paso to be transported to the team he put together in Topeka. At the warehouse, they mounted a fifty caliber machine gun onto the center of the modified Humvee and covered the back with metal framed canvas. The cartel’s weapons and munitions had come from different sources, mostly from arms dealers, but some from military base thefts. The operations team wasn’t difficult to put together. Franco, one of the cartel’s weapons experts, would be there to ensure the weapons performed without mishap. He wouldn’t be part of the actual assault. The actual shooters were young, but experienced. They had been recruited at age 15 by another cartel and had been Familia soldiers for three years. They were paid well and killed without remorse. They knew how to operate a 50 caliber machine gun and a rocket launcher. Both had used them in the field against the cartel’s enemies in Mexico. The driver was older. He’d been a Familia soldier, but had moved on to become the personal driver for the cartel heads. There was nothing he didn’t know about driving vehicles in the most dangerous circumstances. Pato would also be there, to oversee the operation.

Pato flew to Topeka from San Diego on Saturday, using his attorney Lorenzo identification. He’d gotten the word late Friday that the prosecution planned to call their key witness, Felicia, the former girlfriend of defendant Luis Hernandez-Lopez, to the stand on Tuesday. After an 18-month investigation, it was the first week of trial against the three heads of the Familia drug cartel. It was lucky Pato had everything in place. His surveillance team had been following Felicia from her safe house to her dental hygienist school and back, every day. He had instructed them to let him know immediately if there was any sign of her preparing to leave. The only visitor Felicia had at her home was a young black woman, who drove a car that had to be government issue. It was a boring white sedan, two years old, nothing that the hip looking visitor would have bought on her own. Pato assumed the woman was Felicia’s handler, most likely a Deputy U.S. Marshal. Pato knew that the team probably had until Sunday night to send their dramatic message. Pato believed the government would fly Felicia to San Diego on Monday. If she left in a car with a suitcase before Monday, the surveillance team was ordered to take her out in a standard car shooting. It would not be nearly as dramatic as what Luis had ordered, but Felicia had to be stopped from testifying at trial.

Deputy U.S. Marshal Lily Perkins got out of her white sedan in front of Felicia’s home on Saturday afternoon. Felicia was in the backyard, enjoying the sunshine, on the warmer than usual January day. She was rocking herself to sleep on a hammock, reading a hygienist textbook. Lily let herself in with a duplicate key and gently shook Felicia awake. “I just made plane reservations for us. We leave early Monday morning on a direct flight to San Diego. ICE Special Agent Ana Schwartz from the Money Laundering Task Force will be arriving early evening on Sunday. She will fly with us to San Diego.”

“Good, I like Ana. She understands how difficult this is for me. I trust her with my life. She saved it once.”

“We’ll take good care of you. You can only be safe when we get Luis and the other two heads of the cartel convicted. Then, you’ll no longer be a threat to them.”

“I understand that now. I’m willing to go to San Diego. But I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe. I still wake up in a cold sweat, dreaming of bullets flying over me, face down on my aunt’s concrete driveway. I wake up terrorized, just when I know the next spray of bullets will hit me.”

“In time, the nightmares will recede. We’ll get you psychiatric counseling after the trial to help put this behind you.”

“Thanks Lily. Enough about me. Did your boyfriend pop the question?”

“He did. Look at my ring. Isn’t it gorgeous? Who knew that an elementary teacher had an heirloom diamond in the family. I’m bringing Chinese take out for dinner tomorrow and we’ll celebrate. Hopefully, Ana will arrive in time for dessert. I’m staying with you tomorrow night and I’ll drive us to the airport on Monday morning.”

Pato met with his team in his Best Western hotel room. Refugio and Raul, the two shooters, were fidgeting on the couch. Refugio was a big man, with a thick neck and broad shoulders. Raul was slender and looked like a hawk, with piercing eyes. Raul did the talking for both of them. Raul told Pato that Refugio would be shooting the rocket launcher and he’d handle the mounted 50 caliber machine gun. Felipe, the driver, sat quietly at a small desk, taking it all in. Pato asked his weapons’ man, Franco, “What can the launcher do?”

“I’ve checked out both the launcher and the machine gun. They needed a bit of a tune up. Now, they’re in excellent condition.

I wouldn’t want to be in that little three bedroom house.”

“You don’t have to be, Franco, unless you continue to not answer my direct question. Don’t ever forget that this operation was ordered by Luis. He wants the traitorous bitch Felicia to die a fiery and dramatic death.”

Franco knew Luis was a sociopath and did not want to cross him in any way. So, he said, “We’ve a Russian RPG-7V2 rocket propelled, reusable, shoulder rocket launcher. We’re using PG 7V1, 93mm heat rocket warheads. The rockets are launched from the firing tube by a gunpowder booster charge. The rocket motor ignites 10 meters after it exits the launch tube and can hit a target at least 500 meters away. Three rockets will penetrate the 1,000 square foot home, completely destroy it, and leave it burned to the ground. Refugio will be wearing a fire retardant, padded vest and neck garment, which will protect him from the heat discharged from the weapon. Refugio will be located to the side and back of the mounted machine gun. Raul, to the front and side of Refugio, won’t be injured by any recoil blast by the launcher.”

“Thank you Franco, much better. Felipe, take me through the driving protocol and the switch out to the getaway car.”

“I’ve arranged an exit vehicle, a nondescript, late model Camry, parked two blocks from the target site. It’ll be across from the vacant lot where we’ll dispose of the Humvee.”

“Take me through it Felipe, step by step.”

“Early evening, around 7:00, the Humvee will approach the target home. Surveillance has shown that the neighborhood is quiet around that time, especially on a Sunday night. People are watching television or having Sunday dinner. We strip back the canvas, and Raul starts firing his 50 caliber bullets though the front of the home. This will get Felicia’s attention and the agent’s attention, if she’s there. These bullets are armor piercing and will easily go through the wooden front door and the stucco. If Felicia tries to escape, she’ll be mowed down. After the initial machine gun burst, Refugio will shoot the first rocket into the middle of the house. That will ignite a portion of the house. He’ll reload and fire two more rockets into the house. The house will be in flames and no one inside will be alive at that time. The whole operation should take about a minute. I drive the Humvee to the vacant lot, two blocks away, and we torch it, leaving the rocket launcher and machine gun inside. There’ll be no trace evidence in the vehicle. Refugio will shed his flame retarded vest into the Humvee before it’s torched. We will get into the Camry and drive slowly away.”

“How long to torch the vehicle?”

“No more than 30 seconds. I douse it with gasoline from a can stored in the Camry, light it and we’re gone.”

“Should we be worried about police response time Felipe?”

“No Pato. The closest police station is three miles away. This is a quiet residential neighborhood that is seldom patrolled by the cops, especially on Sunday evenings. We should be driving away in the Camry within three minutes of Raul first firing the machine gun.”

“Excellent. I’ll be down the block from Felicia’s home, in my rented Volvo. I wouldn’t want to miss the fireworks.”

After the team left, Pato had plenty of time to shower, and put on a silk suit, donning his Lorenzo personality for his dinner date with the waitress he had met on an earlier trip searching for Felicia. Pato hoped Mary Ellen had something more dressy than the cutoff jeans and gingham blouse she wore as a waitress at the barbecue joint. She seemed excited about going to the Blue Moose Bar and Grill. Pato always enjoyed mixing business and pleasure. The thought of razing Felicia’s home excited him.

Mary Ellen did not disappoint. The butt-hugging, strapless red dress, was a promise to Pato of things to come. Her blond hair fell over her bare shoulders, the ends caressing the back of her scarlet dress. He escorted her into the restaurant and they were seated in a quiet corner as he had requested. They started with a pitcher of sangria. Pato expounded about his make-believe homeland—having tapas and cocktails off Madrid’s main square, promenading with others around the cobblestone streets of the old part of the city before eating roast pork at Ernest Hemingway’s favorite restaurant. Pato thought, Americans love the Hemingway twist. A Farewell to Arms seemed to be required reading at all the high schools. Pato graciously, in European custom, ordered for Mary Ellen, whom he was now calling Maria Elena. He ordered her lemon chicken saltimboca, a chicken breast stuffed with spinach and cheese and wrapped with prosciutto and sage. It gave him a chance to enthrall her with his favorite foreign city, Roma. He promised her he would take her to the Trevi Fountain one day. Just before dawn, they would walk through the narrow streets and turn the corner to the small Trevi square. No tourists would be there. It would just be the two of them and God, as they tossed coins in the fountain together to ensure their return to Roma. She would be Audrey Hepburn to his Gregory Peck in Roman Holiday. Pato had to explain to Maria Elena who they were. But she loved it when she heard Audrey Hepburn played a princess in the film. Pato could not believe how many American women fell for his bullshit. It made him smile inside.

Pato took Mary Ellen back to her apartment in the early morning hours after a delightful assignation in his hotel room. They had savored the champagne Pato had on ice, waiting for them in his room. He had never lacked confidence. All in all, it had been a very satisfying evening. Mary Ellen was eager and charmingly inexperienced in bed. It was an excellent portent for Sunday to be a memorable day.

Ana was trying to catch a couple of hours of sleep on her flight to Topeka. However, she found that her thoughts wouldn’t slow down. She wondered, If her gruff, but vulnerable lover, Nick Drummond, would divorce his estranged wife after the trial. Ana had fought her attraction towards the lead prosecutor of the Money Laundering Task Force, but had succumbed to her feelings. Ana thought, How difficult it was going to be to live up to our agreement to stop “seeing” each other during the trial to avoid the appearance of a conflict of interest because I’m a key witness to the murder conspiracy count.

Ana’s flight was scheduled to touch down at 6:05 p.m. She had reserved a rental car. She wanted to go directly to Felicia’s home before she checked into her hotel. Deputy Perkins had spoken to her this morning, and had given her the good news that Felicia was mentally prepared to fly to San Diego and testify. Ana still wanted to see Felicia herself and talk with her. She didn’t want any last minute surprises.

Lily knocked on Felicia’s door with a suitcase in hand and a bag of Chinese take-out. Felicia greeted her with a smile. “Come in. The take-out smells good. I have a freshly baked apple pie for dessert.

Hopefully, Ana likes apple pie.”

“Everyone loves apple pie. Anything else would be un-American.” They sat down and Felicia opened up the various boxes with the joy of a child opening Christmas presents.

“Pot stickers and Mu Shu pork. I love that,” said Felicia.

“That’s just for starters. We have for your eating pleasure, lemon chicken, shrimp chow mein, and the piece de resistance, duck. I don’t get engaged every day.”

“To you Lily,” said Felicia as she raised a glass of wine. They touched glasses.

“And to you Felicia. I’m so proud of you being strong, willing to face Luis and the other heads of the cartel on the witness stand. To your future as the best dental hygienist in Kansas.”

“Let me modify that a bit. To the best hygienist anywhere I end up in the United States.”

Nick had a little down time on Sunday afternoon. The witnesses were prepped for Monday. Everything was ready. He sipped on his Jack Daniels and stared into his fish tank. The tough part of the case was over—the thousands of hours of investigation and preparation for trial by his team. Now, they just had to put on the witnesses. Things were looking good. His Saints Go Marching In ring tone awakened him from his reverie.

“Mr. Drummond, this is Lieutenant Granger from the San Diego Metropolitan Prison. Sorry to bother you sir, but earlier this afternoon we caught a trustee who was passing kites for Luis Hernandez-Lopez. The note, found under a washbasin in the public rest room, off the visitor reception area, spoke of wanting a full weather report on Kansas.”

“Tell me exactly what the note says!” Nick demanded.

“It reads, I can’t wait for this evening’s Kansas weather report.”

“I want that trustee interrogated fully about the kite, and any other kites having to do with Lopez, immediately! Got that?!”

“Yes sir.”

Nick hung up and dialed Ana’s cell. “Pick up please, please pick up. Ana please pick up. Come on!” The phone continued to ring.

Ana heard her cellphone ring in her purse. She was just three blocks from Felicia’s witness safe house. She had called ten minutes earlier and Lily and Felicia were warming the apple pie for dessert. Ana opened her purse to grab the phone when she heard the loud staccato of gun fire or fireworks ahead. She stepped on it.

Raul was raking the home with 50 caliber bullets. The woman agent was inside. Too bad for her. Refugio let go with the first rocket grenade. The heat from the blast scorched Refugio’s face. The rocket slammed through the outer wall of the house and exploded into a burst of flame and debris. In rapid succession, Refugio rammed two more rockets into the launcher and fired. Flames enveloped the entire house. None of the front or interior walls were standing.

At the first sound of gunfire, Deputy Perkins knew they were high velocity rounds. Rounds slamming through the walls left no doubt. She pulled Felicia from her chair and ran to the pantry just off the dining area, in the back of the house. This neighborhood had been on the path of many tornados and had a storm cellar. Lily pulled open the latch of the cellar trap door in the floor and pushed Felicia down inside it. “Don’t come out until its safe!” Lily closed the door hatch and turned low towards the front of the house just as the first rocket grenade burst through the front door. The blast of the explosion blew Lily through the back door into the yard.

Ana turned the corner and came upon a scene out of a war zone. It felt like Bagdad to her. A small home had burst into flames. A Humvee was in front of the house, 100 yards away from her, firing rocket grenades into the home and strafing what was left of the house with machine gun fire. Ana yelled, “You Bastards!” She pulled her Glock and started firing at the Humvee as she drove towards it with one hand on the wheel. The mounted machine gun pivoted, and pointed in her direction. Ana swerved, and felt the impact of rounds slam through the back of her car. Her car careened off the road and slammed into a telephone pole.

The Humvee sped off. In the opposite direction, a Volvo, driven by a Hispanic man, pulled away from the curb and drove past Ana’s car. Pato saw the driver slumped over the wheel with blood running down her face.

Nick finally gave up after calling Ana over and over. He called ICE’s National Dispatch Center and reported the situation to the dispatcher, asking for an immediate response by ICE agents to Felicia’s address. He then called Topeka 9-1-1. Nick identified himself and requested a patrol car to immediately go to 131 Elm Street. The dispatcher replied, “For the last five minutes we’ve been receiving frantic calls about a military attack on that address. Neighbors say the house has been burned to the ground.” “You have to patch me in immediately to the officer in charge at the scene. It’s my agent and protected witness at that address!”

“I’m sorry sir. I can’t do that. I will take your number and relay the message when the situation stabilizes.”

“Damn it! I know the situation. Those are my people there. Connect me!”

“Give me your number—that’s the best I can do for you.” Nick gave her his number and made her promise to convey it to the officer in charge right away.

Nick called his lead agent and friend of 20 years, Pepe Santana. Nick filled him in with a rapid fire account. Pepe was used to Nick going verbal hyper-speed when he was excited. Pepe assured him that he would go down to the MCC right away and help the jail commander interview the trustee and investigate any of Luis’ visitors at jail. Pepe tried to assuage Nick’s anxiety. “Ana always lands on her feet. We don’t know if she was even in the area. She just arrived at the airport an hour before. She probably checked into her hotel first and is taking a shower.”

“You know Ana. It’s the job first. I’m sure she went to Felicia’s safe house straight from the airport. But just in case, please call Rona and find out the hotel where she’s staying. Rona booked her room.

Find out if Ana checked in.”

“Will do.”

“I have to get off the line. I’m waiting for a call back from Topeka P.D.” Nick put his cellphone on his lap and hunched over it. He thought, How could I have allowed this to happen—the safe house with his key witness inside, burnt to the ground, and Ana, who had put love back into my life, is probably dead in the house with Felicia. If I had known, I would never have followed up on Drury’s and Zack’s report 15 months ago.

Path To Justice

Chapter One

Purplus Humvee brought up to El Paso that the cartel kept in central Mexico. He arranged for a rocket launcher that the Baja Norte Familia had stored in their munitions warehouse in El Paso to be transported to the team he put together in Topeka. At the warehouse, they mounted a fifty caliber machine gun onto the center of the modified Humvee and covered the back with metal framed canvas. The cartel’s weapons and munitions had come from different sources, mostly from arms dealers, but some from military base thefts. The operations team wasn’t difficult to put together. Franco, one of the cartel’s weapons experts, would be there to ensure the weapons performed without mishap. He wouldn’t be part of the actual assault. The actual shooters were young, but experienced. They had been recruited at age 15 by another cartel and had been Familia soldiers for three years. They were paid well and killed without remorse. They knew how to operate a 50 caliber machine gun and a rocket launcher. Both had used them in the field against the cartel’s enemies in Mexico. The driver was older. He’d been a Familia soldier, but had moved on to become the personal driver for the cartel heads. There was nothing he didn’t know about driving vehicles in the most dangerous circumstances. Pato would also be there, to oversee the operation.

Pato flew to Topeka from San Diego on Saturday, using his attorney Lorenzo identification. He’d gotten the word late Friday that the prosecution planned to call their key witness, Felicia, the former girlfriend of defendant Luis Hernandez-Lopez, to the stand on Tuesday. After an 18-month investigation, it was the first week of trial against the three heads of the Familia drug cartel. It was lucky Pato had everything in place. His surveillance team had been following Felicia from her safe house to her dental hygienist school and back, every day. He had instructed them to let him know immediately if there was any sign of her preparing to leave. The only visitor Felicia had at her home was a young black woman, who drove a car that had to be government issue. It was a boring white sedan, two years old, nothing that the hip looking visitor would have bought on her own. Pato assumed the woman was Felicia’s handler, most likely a Deputy U.S. Marshal. Pato knew that the team probably had until Sunday night to send their dramatic message. Pato believed the government would fly Felicia to San Diego on Monday. If she left in a car with a suitcase before Monday, the surveillance team was ordered to take her out in a standard car shooting. It would not be nearly as dramatic as what Luis had ordered, but Felicia had to be stopped from testifying at trial.

Deputy U.S. Marshal Lily Perkins got out of her white sedan in front of Felicia’s home on Saturday afternoon. Felicia was in the backyard, enjoying the sunshine, on the warmer than usual January day. She was rocking herself to sleep on a hammock, reading a hygienist textbook. Lily let herself in with a duplicate key and gently shook Felicia awake. “I just made plane reservations for us. We leave early Monday morning on a direct flight to San Diego. ICE Special Agent Ana Schwartz from the Money Laundering Task Force will be arriving early evening on Sunday. She will fly with us to San Diego.”

“Good, I like Ana. She understands how difficult this is for me. I trust her with my life. She saved it once.”

“We’ll take good care of you. You can only be safe when we get Luis and the other two heads of the cartel convicted. Then, you’ll no longer be a threat to them.”

“I understand that now. I’m willing to go to San Diego. But I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe. I still wake up in a cold sweat, dreaming of bullets flying over me, face down on my aunt’s concrete driveway. I wake up terrorized, just when I know the next spray of bullets will hit me.”

“In time, the nightmares will recede. We’ll get you psychiatric counseling after the trial to help put this behind you.”

“Thanks Lily. Enough about me. Did your boyfriend pop the question?”

“He did. Look at my ring. Isn’t it gorgeous? Who knew that an elementary teacher had an heirloom diamond in the family. I’m bringing Chinese take out for dinner tomorrow and we’ll celebrate. Hopefully, Ana will arrive in time for dessert. I’m staying with you tomorrow night and I’ll drive us to the airport on Monday morning.”

Pato met with his team in his Best Western hotel room. Refugio and Raul, the two shooters, were fidgeting on the couch. Refugio was a big man, with a thick neck and broad shoulders. Raul was slender and looked like a hawk, with piercing eyes. Raul did the talking for both of them. Raul told Pato that Refugio would be shooting the rocket launcher and he’d handle the mounted 50 caliber machine gun. Felipe, the driver, sat quietly at a small desk, taking it all in. Pato asked his weapons’ man, Franco, “What can the launcher do?”

“I’ve checked out both the launcher and the machine gun. They needed a bit of a tune up. Now, they’re in excellent condition.

I wouldn’t want to be in that little three bedroom house.”

“You don’t have to be, Franco, unless you continue to not answer my direct question. Don’t ever forget that this operation was ordered by Luis. He wants the traitorous bitch Felicia to die a fiery and dramatic death.”

Franco knew Luis was a sociopath and did not want to cross him in any way. So, he said, “We’ve a Russian RPG-7V2 rocket propelled, reusable, shoulder rocket launcher. We’re using PG 7V1, 93mm heat rocket warheads. The rockets are launched from the firing tube by a gunpowder booster charge. The rocket motor ignites 10 meters after it exits the launch tube and can hit a target at least 500 meters away. Three rockets will penetrate the 1,000 square foot home, completely destroy it, and leave it burned to the ground. Refugio will be wearing a fire retardant, padded vest and neck garment, which will protect him from the heat discharged from the weapon. Refugio will be located to the side and back of the mounted machine gun. Raul, to the front and side of Refugio, won’t be injured by any recoil blast by the launcher.”

“Thank you Franco, much better. Felipe, take me through the driving protocol and the switch out to the getaway car.”

“I’ve arranged an exit vehicle, a nondescript, late model Camry, parked two blocks from the target site. It’ll be across from the vacant lot where we’ll dispose of the Humvee.”

“Take me through it Felipe, step by step.”

“Early evening, around 7:00, the Humvee will approach the target home. Surveillance has shown that the neighborhood is quiet around that time, especially on a Sunday night. People are watching television or having Sunday dinner. We strip back the canvas, and Raul starts firing his 50 caliber bullets though the front of the home. This will get Felicia’s attention and the agent’s attention, if she’s there. These bullets are armor piercing and will easily go through the wooden front door and the stucco. If Felicia tries to escape, she’ll be mowed down. After the initial machine gun burst, Refugio will shoot the first rocket into the middle of the house. That will ignite a portion of the house. He’ll reload and fire two more rockets into the house. The house will be in flames and no one inside will be alive at that time. The whole operation should take about a minute. I drive the Humvee to the vacant lot, two blocks away, and we torch it, leaving the rocket launcher and machine gun inside. There’ll be no trace evidence in the vehicle. Refugio will shed his flame retarded vest into the Humvee before it’s torched. We will get into the Camry and drive slowly away.”

“How long to torch the vehicle?”

“No more than 30 seconds. I douse it with gasoline from a can stored in the Camry, light it and we’re gone.”

“Should we be worried about police response time Felipe?”

“No Pato. The closest police station is three miles away. This is a quiet residential neighborhood that is seldom patrolled by the cops, especially on Sunday evenings. We should be driving away in the Camry within three minutes of Raul first firing the machine gun.”

“Excellent. I’ll be down the block from Felicia’s home, in my rented Volvo. I wouldn’t want to miss the fireworks.”

After the team left, Pato had plenty of time to shower, and put on a silk suit, donning his Lorenzo personality for his dinner date with the waitress he had met on an earlier trip searching for Felicia. Pato hoped Mary Ellen had something more dressy than the cutoff jeans and gingham blouse she wore as a waitress at the barbecue joint. She seemed excited about going to the Blue Moose Bar and Grill. Pato always enjoyed mixing business and pleasure. The thought of razing Felicia’s home excited him.

Mary Ellen did not disappoint. The butt-hugging, strapless red dress, was a promise to Pato of things to come. Her blond hair fell over her bare shoulders, the ends caressing the back of her scarlet dress. He escorted her into the restaurant and they were seated in a quiet corner as he had requested. They started with a pitcher of sangria. Pato expounded about his make-believe homeland—having tapas and cocktails off Madrid’s main square, promenading with others around the cobblestone streets of the old part of the city before eating roast pork at Ernest Hemingway’s favorite restaurant. Pato thought, Americans love the Hemingway twist. A Farewell to Arms seemed to be required reading at all the high schools. Pato graciously, in European custom, ordered for Mary Ellen, whom he was now calling Maria Elena. He ordered her lemon chicken saltimboca, a chicken breast stuffed with spinach and cheese and wrapped with prosciutto and sage. It gave him a chance to enthrall her with his favorite foreign city, Roma. He promised her he would take her to the Trevi Fountain one day. Just before dawn, they would walk through the narrow streets and turn the corner to the small Trevi square. No tourists would be there. It would just be the two of them and God, as they tossed coins in the fountain together to ensure their return to Roma. She would be Audrey Hepburn to his Gregory Peck in Roman Holiday. Pato had to explain to Maria Elena who they were. But she loved it when she heard Audrey Hepburn played a princess in the film. Pato could not believe how many American women fell for his bullshit. It made him smile inside.

Pato took Mary Ellen back to her apartment in the early morning hours after a delightful assignation in his hotel room. They had savored the champagne Pato had on ice, waiting for them in his room. He had never lacked confidence. All in all, it had been a very satisfying evening. Mary Ellen was eager and charmingly inexperienced in bed. It was an excellent portent for Sunday to be a memorable day.

Ana was trying to catch a couple of hours of sleep on her flight to Topeka. However, she found that her thoughts wouldn’t slow down. She wondered, If her gruff, but vulnerable lover, Nick Drummond, would divorce his estranged wife after the trial. Ana had fought her attraction towards the lead prosecutor of the Money Laundering Task Force, but had succumbed to her feelings. Ana thought, How difficult it was going to be to live up to our agreement to stop “seeing” each other during the trial to avoid the appearance of a conflict of interest because I’m a key witness to the murder conspiracy count.

Ana’s flight was scheduled to touch down at 6:05 p.m. She had reserved a rental car. She wanted to go directly to Felicia’s home before she checked into her hotel. Deputy Perkins had spoken to her this morning, and had given her the good news that Felicia was mentally prepared to fly to San Diego and testify. Ana still wanted to see Felicia herself and talk with her. She didn’t want any last minute surprises.

Lily knocked on Felicia’s door with a suitcase in hand and a bag of Chinese take-out. Felicia greeted her with a smile. “Come in. The take-out smells good. I have a freshly baked apple pie for dessert.

Hopefully, Ana likes apple pie.”

“Everyone loves apple pie. Anything else would be un-American.” They sat down and Felicia opened up the various boxes with the joy of a child opening Christmas presents.

“Pot stickers and Mu Shu pork. I love that,” said Felicia.

“That’s just for starters. We have for your eating pleasure, lemon chicken, shrimp chow mein, and the piece de resistance, duck. I don’t get engaged every day.”

“To you Lily,” said Felicia as she raised a glass of wine. They touched glasses.

“And to you Felicia. I’m so proud of you being strong, willing to face Luis and the other heads of the cartel on the witness stand. To your future as the best dental hygienist in Kansas.”

“Let me modify that a bit. To the best hygienist anywhere I end up in the United States.”

Nick had a little down time on Sunday afternoon. The witnesses were prepped for Monday. Everything was ready. He sipped on his Jack Daniels and stared into his fish tank. The tough part of the case was over—the thousands of hours of investigation and preparation for trial by his team. Now, they just had to put on the witnesses. Things were looking good. His Saints Go Marching In ring tone awakened him from his reverie.

“Mr. Drummond, this is Lieutenant Granger from the San Diego Metropolitan Prison. Sorry to bother you sir, but earlier this afternoon we caught a trustee who was passing kites for Luis Hernandez-Lopez. The note, found under a washbasin in the public rest room, off the visitor reception area, spoke of wanting a full weather report on Kansas.”

“Tell me exactly what the note says!” Nick demanded.

“It reads, I can’t wait for this evening’s Kansas weather report.”

“I want that trustee interrogated fully about the kite, and any other kites having to do with Lopez, immediately! Got that?!”

“Yes sir.”

Nick hung up and dialed Ana’s cell. “Pick up please, please pick up. Ana please pick up. Come on!” The phone continued to ring.

Ana heard her cellphone ring in her purse. She was just three blocks from Felicia’s witness safe house. She had called ten minutes earlier and Lily and Felicia were warming the apple pie for dessert. Ana opened her purse to grab the phone when she heard the loud staccato of gun fire or fireworks ahead. She stepped on it.

Raul was raking the home with 50 caliber bullets. The woman agent was inside. Too bad for her. Refugio let go with the first rocket grenade. The heat from the blast scorched Refugio’s face. The rocket slammed through the outer wall of the house and exploded into a burst of flame and debris. In rapid succession, Refugio rammed two more rockets into the launcher and fired. Flames enveloped the entire house. None of the front or interior walls were standing.

At the first sound of gunfire, Deputy Perkins knew they were high velocity rounds. Rounds slamming through the walls left no doubt. She pulled Felicia from her chair and ran to the pantry just off the dining area, in the back of the house. This neighborhood had been on the path of many tornados and had a storm cellar. Lily pulled open the latch of the cellar trap door in the floor and pushed Felicia down inside it. “Don’t come out until its safe!” Lily closed the door hatch and turned low towards the front of the house just as the first rocket grenade burst through the front door. The blast of the explosion blew Lily through the back door into the yard.

Ana turned the corner and came upon a scene out of a war zone. It felt like Bagdad to her. A small home had burst into flames. A Humvee was in front of the house, 100 yards away from her, firing rocket grenades into the home and strafing what was left of the house with machine gun fire. Ana yelled, “You Bastards!” She pulled her Glock and started firing at the Humvee as she drove towards it with one hand on the wheel. The mounted machine gun pivoted, and pointed in her direction. Ana swerved, and felt the impact of rounds slam through the back of her car. Her car careened off the road and slammed into a telephone pole.

The Humvee sped off. In the opposite direction, a Volvo, driven by a Hispanic man, pulled away from the curb and drove past Ana’s car. Pato saw the driver slumped over the wheel with blood running down her face.

Nick finally gave up after calling Ana over and over. He called ICE’s National Dispatch Center and reported the situation to the dispatcher, asking for an immediate response by ICE agents to Felicia’s address. He then called Topeka 9-1-1. Nick identified himself and requested a patrol car to immediately go to 131 Elm Street. The dispatcher replied, “For the last five minutes we’ve been receiving frantic calls about a military attack on that address. Neighbors say the house has been burned to the ground.” “You have to patch me in immediately to the officer in charge at the scene. It’s my agent and protected witness at that address!”

“I’m sorry sir. I can’t do that. I will take your number and relay the message when the situation stabilizes.”

“Damn it! I know the situation. Those are my people there. Connect me!”

“Give me your number—that’s the best I can do for you.” Nick gave her his number and made her promise to convey it to the officer in charge right away.

Nick called his lead agent and friend of 20 years, Pepe Santana. Nick filled him in with a rapid fire account. Pepe was used to Nick going verbal hyper-speed when he was excited. Pepe assured him that he would go down to the MCC right away and help the jail commander interview the trustee and investigate any of Luis’ visitors at jail. Pepe tried to assuage Nick’s anxiety. “Ana always lands on her feet. We don’t know if she was even in the area. She just arrived at the airport an hour before. She probably checked into her hotel first and is taking a shower.”

“You know Ana. It’s the job first. I’m sure she went to Felicia’s safe house straight from the airport. But just in case, please call Rona and find out the hotel where she’s staying. Rona booked her room.

Find out if Ana checked in.”

“Will do.”

“I have to get off the line. I’m waiting for a call back from Topeka P.D.” Nick put his cellphone on his lap and hunched over it. He thought, How could I have allowed this to happen—the safe house with his key witness inside, burnt to the ground, and Ana, who had put love back into my life, is probably dead in the house with Felicia. If I had known, I would never have followed up on Drury’s and Zack’s report 15 months ago.

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