Path To Revenge
Chapter Six
Paul and Refugio were sprawled on the couch, watching TV. Refugio liked Disney animated movies. This was the fifth time they had watched Beauty and the Beast. Raul didn’t mind. He and Refugio had been together for close to ten years. They stayed in the same hovel as orphans in Culiacan, in the state of Sinaloa, Mexico. They were fed one meal a day and slept on the floor. They scrounged for other food—selling cheap souvenirs, foraging through garbage, and occasionally working. Even at 12, Refugio was big and strong for his age. Refugio could do a man’s job laying brick or digging potholes. Raul always tagged along for a cut of the spoils of Refugio’s labor. Raul was the smart one, the crafty one. Nothing on the street got past him. Refugio was slow-thinking. Raul was always there to shepherd Refugio through street-life obstacles.
It was Raul who got them into the drug trade. Raul started as a courier, with Refugio always there to back him up. They were the Mexican Lennie and George of Steinbeck’s, Of Mice and Men. Over the years they became soldiers for the Sinaloa cartel. For the last two years, they worked for the Baja Norte Familia, based in Tijuana. Neither enjoyed the killing they had done for the cartels. It was just something they had to do. They had seen death before they joined the Sinaloa cartel. Working for the cartels, they saw more. Raul admitted that he enjoyed the adrenaline high when he stood behind a fifty caliber machine gun, spraying bullets.
The last cartel attack had breached Raul’s apparent impregnable moral barriers. It had bothered him to fire round after round into a small house on a quiet residential street in Topeka, Kansas. It should not happen in a place like that. It was one thing to ambush members of competing drug cartels, but it was an entirely different matter to take out a couple of women in a peaceful neighborhood.
“Refugio, did it bother you to fire rockets into that home in Kansas?”
Refugio waited a few seconds before answering. He had to process the question and think about it, “No, I do what you tell me to do. I don’t think about it. Thinking is for you to do.”
“What do you think about getting away from La Familia? Living in the
U.S. in a small town where we don’t bother anyone and no one bothers us?”
“Fine with me. I’d want to watch my movies and have a couple of dogs.”
They settled back on the couch. Raul closed his eyes, hearing the familiar dialogue of Beauty and the Beast droning on in front of him. He woke with a start to a crash of breaking glass and gunfire. He leaned toward the far end of the couch where his Glock was on a side table. He never reached it. A bullet seared his left arm and the full weight of Refugio came down on top of him. He heard Refugio, face up, towards the gunfire, saying, “No, No, No.” Raul felt the impact of the bullets slamming into Refugio’s body. Refugio protecting Raul one last time. Refugio’s blood was all over, mixed with some of Raul’s. Raul lay still with his eyes closed, completely covered by Refugio’s body.
The wood around the front door lock shattered and two men, dressed in black, came into the room. “We got both of them.”
“Jesus told us to make sure. Check out the bodies.”
“You do it. You’re the one who likes blood.”
“Move out of the way, Joven. Let a real man through.” Miguel pushed by, lifted Refugio a bit to the side, and prodded Raul with his gun. Raul did not move. “He seems dead. A bullet to the head to be sure.” Miguel lifted his gun when sirens blared through the stillness of the night.
Pedro grabbed Miguel by the arm. “Come on, we’ve got to get out of here. Raul is dead.” Pedro and Miguel rushed out.
Raul waited a couple of minutes, expecting either the assassins to come back or the police. Neither came. The sirens had melted away in the distance. Raul thought, One good thing about living in this neighborhood, sirens at night could be for anybody.
Raul rolled from underneath Refugio. He closed Refugio’s eyes and gave him a kiss on his forehead. A few tears worked their way down foreign territory. Raul had never seen a body so riddled with bullets. Raul went to the bathroom. He cleaned the flesh wound in his left forearm and bandaged it. After washing the blood off the best he could from his face and arms, he went into his bedroom and pulled on a coat over his bloody clothes. He put a couple of sets of clothes in a bag, grabbed his stash of money, and ran to the garage. His Datsun pick-up started on the first try and he backed out. Raul headed down the hill. He knew he had to disappear.
Pepe knocked and then barged into Nick’s office at the Money Laundering Task Force headquarters, a nondescript warehouse in northcentral San Diego. “You’ve got to hear this. You told me to put feelers out to the Baja Norte State Police about the known Topeka shooter, Raul SaladezMontes. My connection just got back to me. Raul and a fellow Familia soldier, Refugio Ramirez, are inseparable. Refugio Ramirez, age 23, was found dead yesterday, 16 bullets through his oversized torso. He was on the couch, in a small two-bedroom rental house in the hills overlooking Tijuana. His roommate Raul wasn’t there. There was blood all over the living room and some in the bathroom. Refugio was in no shape to make it to the bathroom. Policia de Estado believe that Raul was also shot in the attack and somehow escaped. Raul’s Datsun pick-up wasn’t in the garage. They’re notifying all the hospitals and clinics in the area.”
“Wow. I get documents from SAC Poon that identify Raul as the wounded Topeka shooter and a week later his compadre Refugio is taken out and Raul is shot. I wonder if La Familia is cleaning up after the Topeka attack. Our mysterious Javier Esquel-Ranchez, defense witness and Topeka coordinator, may know we’re closing in. How could he have found out?”
“Do you think there’s a leak?”
“Could be. Money in the right hands buys you information. Poon’s office, the San Diego U.S. Marshal’s Office, and ours knew about this. Check with Poon and tell him there may be a leak. Also, make sure that U.S. Customs and Border Patrol are on the lookout for Raul’s Datsun and any other vehicle tied to him. We need to intensify our efforts to find him on both sides of the border. If we can turn him, we’ve nailed Javier.”
“Will do El Jefe. Anything else?”
“Make sure that someone takes a photo line-up with Javier’s picture in the array to Felicia’s aunt’s house. See if Javier happened to show up around the aunt’s house while the investigation and trial were going on.
We should also bring in Luis’ cousin, Jaime Hernandez-Salgado. While Luis was alive, Jaime was too scared to tell us anything about his role of passing information from Luis in jail to the cartel. Now that Luis is dead and the cartel seems to be tying up loose ends on the Topeka attack, Jaime may see the light about cooperating with us.”
Path To Revenge
Chapter Six
Paul and Refugio were sprawled on the couch, watching TV. Refugio liked Disney animated movies. This was the fifth time they had watched Beauty and the Beast. Raul didn’t mind. He and Refugio had been together for close to ten years. They stayed in the same hovel as orphans in Culiacan, in the state of Sinaloa, Mexico. They were fed one meal a day and slept on the floor. They scrounged for other food—selling cheap souvenirs, foraging through garbage, and occasionally working. Even at 12, Refugio was big and strong for his age. Refugio could do a man’s job laying brick or digging potholes. Raul always tagged along for a cut of the spoils of Refugio’s labor. Raul was the smart one, the crafty one. Nothing on the street got past him. Refugio was slow-thinking. Raul was always there to shepherd Refugio through street-life obstacles.
It was Raul who got them into the drug trade. Raul started as a courier, with Refugio always there to back him up. They were the Mexican Lennie and George of Steinbeck’s, Of Mice and Men. Over the years they became soldiers for the Sinaloa cartel. For the last two years, they worked for the Baja Norte Familia, based in Tijuana. Neither enjoyed the killing they had done for the cartels. It was just something they had to do. They had seen death before they joined the Sinaloa cartel. Working for the cartels, they saw more. Raul admitted that he enjoyed the adrenaline high when he stood behind a fifty caliber machine gun, spraying bullets.
The last cartel attack had breached Raul’s apparent impregnable moral barriers. It had bothered him to fire round after round into a small house on a quiet residential street in Topeka, Kansas. It should not happen in a place like that. It was one thing to ambush members of competing drug cartels, but it was an entirely different matter to take out a couple of women in a peaceful neighborhood.
“Refugio, did it bother you to fire rockets into that home in Kansas?”
Refugio waited a few seconds before answering. He had to process the question and think about it, “No, I do what you tell me to do. I don’t think about it. Thinking is for you to do.”
“What do you think about getting away from La Familia? Living in the
U.S. in a small town where we don’t bother anyone and no one bothers us?”
“Fine with me. I’d want to watch my movies and have a couple of dogs.”
They settled back on the couch. Raul closed his eyes, hearing the familiar dialogue of Beauty and the Beast droning on in front of him. He woke with a start to a crash of breaking glass and gunfire. He leaned toward the far end of the couch where his Glock was on a side table. He never reached it. A bullet seared his left arm and the full weight of Refugio came down on top of him. He heard Refugio, face up, towards the gunfire, saying, “No, No, No.” Raul felt the impact of the bullets slamming into Refugio’s body. Refugio protecting Raul one last time. Refugio’s blood was all over, mixed with some of Raul’s. Raul lay still with his eyes closed, completely covered by Refugio’s body.
The wood around the front door lock shattered and two men, dressed in black, came into the room. “We got both of them.”
“Jesus told us to make sure. Check out the bodies.”
“You do it. You’re the one who likes blood.”
“Move out of the way, Joven. Let a real man through.” Miguel pushed by, lifted Refugio a bit to the side, and prodded Raul with his gun. Raul did not move. “He seems dead. A bullet to the head to be sure.” Miguel lifted his gun when sirens blared through the stillness of the night.
Pedro grabbed Miguel by the arm. “Come on, we’ve got to get out of here. Raul is dead.” Pedro and Miguel rushed out.
Raul waited a couple of minutes, expecting either the assassins to come back or the police. Neither came. The sirens had melted away in the distance. Raul thought, One good thing about living in this neighborhood, sirens at night could be for anybody.
Raul rolled from underneath Refugio. He closed Refugio’s eyes and gave him a kiss on his forehead. A few tears worked their way down foreign territory. Raul had never seen a body so riddled with bullets. Raul went to the bathroom. He cleaned the flesh wound in his left forearm and bandaged it. After washing the blood off the best he could from his face and arms, he went into his bedroom and pulled on a coat over his bloody clothes. He put a couple of sets of clothes in a bag, grabbed his stash of money, and ran to the garage. His Datsun pick-up started on the first try and he backed out. Raul headed down the hill. He knew he had to disappear.
Pepe knocked and then barged into Nick’s office at the Money Laundering Task Force headquarters, a nondescript warehouse in northcentral San Diego. “You’ve got to hear this. You told me to put feelers out to the Baja Norte State Police about the known Topeka shooter, Raul SaladezMontes. My connection just got back to me. Raul and a fellow Familia soldier, Refugio Ramirez, are inseparable. Refugio Ramirez, age 23, was found dead yesterday, 16 bullets through his oversized torso. He was on the couch, in a small two-bedroom rental house in the hills overlooking Tijuana. His roommate Raul wasn’t there. There was blood all over the living room and some in the bathroom. Refugio was in no shape to make it to the bathroom. Policia de Estado believe that Raul was also shot in the attack and somehow escaped. Raul’s Datsun pick-up wasn’t in the garage. They’re notifying all the hospitals and clinics in the area.”
“Wow. I get documents from SAC Poon that identify Raul as the wounded Topeka shooter and a week later his compadre Refugio is taken out and Raul is shot. I wonder if La Familia is cleaning up after the Topeka attack. Our mysterious Javier Esquel-Ranchez, defense witness and Topeka coordinator, may know we’re closing in. How could he have found out?”
“Do you think there’s a leak?”
“Could be. Money in the right hands buys you information. Poon’s office, the San Diego U.S. Marshal’s Office, and ours knew about this. Check with Poon and tell him there may be a leak. Also, make sure that U.S. Customs and Border Patrol are on the lookout for Raul’s Datsun and any other vehicle tied to him. We need to intensify our efforts to find him on both sides of the border. If we can turn him, we’ve nailed Javier.”
“Will do El Jefe. Anything else?”
“Make sure that someone takes a photo line-up with Javier’s picture in the array to Felicia’s aunt’s house. See if Javier happened to show up around the aunt’s house while the investigation and trial were going on.
We should also bring in Luis’ cousin, Jaime Hernandez-Salgado. While Luis was alive, Jaime was too scared to tell us anything about his role of passing information from Luis in jail to the cartel. Now that Luis is dead and the cartel seems to be tying up loose ends on the Topeka attack, Jaime may see the light about cooperating with us.”