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“And there were no civilian casualties?” Stan looked up from the file he’d gotten from Metro-Dade. “Aside from some cuts and bruises when people ran into doors? No.” “Good.” Castillo looked around the table. “The AUSA will want to talk to people once this is over, but we should have no issues. Switek has my green light order on tape, along with Blair and Mather describing what they saw. And with no collateral damage no one can really complain.” Sonny scratched his chin, feeling the stubble. Jenny had been quiet but happy when he got home, and he could tell she was totally absorbed in the planning for Caitlin’s House. Good to see her focusing on something instead of that damned girl. “Something didn’t feel right about last night.” Rico looked across the table. “I know what you mean.” He turned to Lester and Mindy. “What did you two see?” “Not enough.” Lester shook his head. “It was a lot faster in there than it sounds on the radios.” “Don’t worry about it, man.” Rico smiled. “You did fine. The first firefight’s always hard, and when it’s your first undercover gig on top of it…” Sonny nodded. “Yeah. You did great, Lester.” “Thanks, guys. Maybe I just ain’t cut out to be a bad-ass like Stan.” Stan chuckled. “I heard the whole thing in the Roach Coach. You did great, buddy. Kept the reports comin’ in and covered their backs. That’s your job in places like that.” Mindy nodded. “No complaints from me. But I did notice one thing. The Hitler Youth didn’t seem surprised at all when the shooting started. They were armed, right?” “I don’t know. But they never made a move for any weapons or tried to get to cover…” Rico slapped the table with his hand. “And they would have if the attack was a surprise.” He looked over at Sonny. “I did see Hoffmann lookin’ around after the shooting stopped, though. Almost like he was checking for more of Soldado’s guys.” Dave cleared his throat. “They wouldn’t know I’d taken out the two who were supposed to come through the front door.” Trudy nodded. “Yeah. If they knew how many men Soldado had, they’d be looking for the other two. And that car they had…that just screams ‘tail me’ like, say, a white Ferrari.” “Very funny.” Sonny grinned. “What do we know?” Castillo’s low question cut through all the chatter. “We know Soldado and his three compadres are DOA.” Trudy ticked through the points. “Two outside the club and the man and another inside. We know we accounted for all hostiles. We also know the Hitler Youth took no active part in the shooting, even though one of their men was killed.” She turned to Castillo. “You were right, captain. He came back as a former member of one of Bolivia’s ranger regiments.” Sonny let the facts settle through his head. “What can we assume or suspect?” Trudy smiled. “We can assume she’s gonna call Burnett tonight. She took the card and didn’t seem to shy away from the aftermath of the fight. We can assume they view their men as disposable, or at least some of them. And I think you’re right. We can suspect that they arranged the whole thing.” Stan looked around. “Any sign they’ve tried to rat out Biggs and Patch?” “No.” Castillo shook his head. “But they might be afraid of wrecking the bigger deal with Cooper and Burnett. And since you established Burnett and Biggs know each other…” “They’d be fools to try to get Biggs out of the way.” Sonny nodded. “And so far they’ve shown they are not fools.” “Do you think they have the drugs on hand?” “I’d say there’s a strong possibility, captain. Either that or they’re close offshore.” Sonny turned to Trudy. “Do we have any kind of picture of the assets of these families?” “Not much, Sonny. They’re both wealthy, his more than hers, so they could have freighters, private planes, you name it. They’ve managed to stay off just about everyone’s radar, so there’s nothing out there. I think the captain’s source is the only one who’s kept tabs on them. Except maybe the Israelis, and we can’t access their files.” “I did see her flinch when it looked like I was heading for one of the yacht clubs, so I’d say they’re either in port now or were until this morning.” Sonny shook his head, seeing the flaw in his own reasoning. “Not that it matters, though, They could use her boat for the smuggling and have a bigger or smaller one they use for things like stopping into port to meet dealers. He might have one for all we know.” “Did Customs or DEA ever link him to a particular boat?” Trudy flipped through her files and shook her head. “No, captain. He was always a generic ‘person of interest’ or just on the edge of something. A few rental sail boats out of Bermuda, but that’s it.” Sonny nodded, staring at the two pictures tacked beside the map. “The face. Using disposable props. It’s a good way to stay off the radar. If he’s got his own boat it’s gonna be buried deep.” “Yeah, but it’ll be flash.” Rico grinned. “Cat like that ain’t gonna slum on no thirty foot sailboat. He’s gonna have one of those big motor yachts.” “The kind big enough to hold all the guys they need and serve as a mother ship for her boat.” Sonny looked at Rico and smiled. “Big enough to hang out in international waters as long as they need, then roll in from time to time to restock and refuel. Just another playboy with his toy. No one’s gonna look twice, especially if he keeps clean.” Castillo looked at Mindy and Trudy. “Is there any way we can check port and entry records for a motor yacht over eighty feet with Argentinian registry?” Trudy nodded. “We can try. And that makes sense. The Jankows might still have some ties there.” “And they’d need a port to move the product north. Airplane’s too risky and you can’t carry enough to make it pay.” Sonny looked at the map. “Not on the scale they seem to be aiming for, at least.” “See what you can find. But we’ll have to be fluid tonight. When they call we have to be ready to move.” He got up from the table. “Crockett, Tubbs. My office in ten minutes.” Sonny looked at the wall clock. “Just enough time for another cup of Stan’s kick-ass coffee.” Rico grinned, watching the others file off to their offices. “How do you wanna play tonight?” “That might be what Marty wants to talk about.” Sonny poured coffee from the pot into his stained white mug. Taking a sip, he turned back to the map. “Hard to believe. All that work and we’re shooting in the dark again.” “It’s what happens when folks call from out of town.” Rico got up. “And we’d better head in now.” Castillo was sitting at his desk, hanging up the phone when the two detectives walked in. “Have a seat. I just got off the phone with Chief Deputy Washington. He’s not sure if they’re going to make him take the promotion or not, so our future is still up in the air. But this operation is critical. Even if we’re the only ones who know that. What’s your plan for tonight?” “A buy this big has to be wire transfers.” Rico adjusted his Versace jacket. “The duffle bag of cash is so last year.” He grinned. “But it also gives us a way to track the money.” Sonny scratched his knee through his linen pants. “You think they’ll go for that?” “I won’t give ‘em a choice.” He looked at Castillo. “Do we still have the setup in place we used when we went after Moncado?” “Yes. Two phone calls and it’s ready to go.” “If you can get that ready before they call, we’ll have them on the hook and their offshore bank and maybe daddies’ money too.” “I’d take some flash cash just to be sure.” Sonny pursed his lips, trying to focus his racing thoughts. “I don’t know how common wire transfer are with art smugglers.” “Think about it, man. Some of those paintings are worth millions. It’s the only way they could handle that much cash.” “What’s your transportation plan?” Sonny snapped back to business, his brain going into Burnett mode. “I can handle up to one hundred and twenty keys on the Scarab. So if they stick with the hundred Rico mentioned we’re good to go. After last night’s commotion they’ll expect me to show up with manpower, so I can take Dave. They’d recognize Stan and Randy, and I don’t think Lester’s quite ready for this kind of fun.” “How would you feel about Tiny and Brick? Chief Deputy Washington is sending their warrant team as backup.” “Those two would fit Burnett’s image perfectly. Plus it frees up Dave and Randy for other things. Like watching the meet from shore or on the water somewhere. But I wouldn’t put another boat out there. Hers is likely to have good radar, and if he’s got one of the bigger yachts he will for sure.” “I’ll have Switek put a signal booster on the Scarab. We’ll need everything recorded.” “Maybe a backup recorder or two on the boat itself.” Sonny nodded at the thought. “Yeah, we want everything taped.” “Do we try to take them down at sea? I know I ain’t no great shakes for sea legs, and we can’t really have a SWAT team standing by on a submarine close by. This ain’t a James Bond movie.” “Is there any chance of getting them on shore?” “I can try, but I doubt it. Their MO seems to be sea-based deals. We can still arrest them so long as we don’t get into international waters, but she seems to like to keep her boat in close so the shore clutter messes with Coast Guard radar.” Sonny closed his eyes, visualizing the coastal charts in his head. “And we gotta try to take them tonight.” Rico nodded his agreement. “Yeah. We don’t know how much cash they need or what they’re doin’ with it. We might be closing up shop for them with one last big score and not even know it.” Castillo reached for the phone. “I’ll coordinate with the Coast Guard for a helicopter and one of their response teams. They should be able to hold one or two boats on station until the cutters arrive. Crockett, have the team get ready.” Back in the conference room, Sonny called the team together. “Brick and his team will be joining us tonight, people. They should be here in an hour or so. Brick and Tiny will be with us on the Scarab, and the rest will split as needed. Stan, you plan for Team Elvis’s activities and take anyone you need. We’ll be coordinating with the Coast Guard, and Trudy and Mindy will be with the captain wherever he decides to set up the command post. We’ll need a signal booster on the Scarab, and a couple of recorders, too.” He looked around the room. “We don’t know what these two have planned. But we can be sure they’ll be dangerous as hell when they’re cornered.” Rico nodded. “I wish we had more time, but this might be their last deal. We don’t know their timeline. The captain’s coordinating with the Coast Guard for a helicopter and one of their tactical teams, and they’ll be the first response.” Castillo came out of his office. “I’ll control from the Roach Coach. The Coast Guard will have a helicopter on station, but their tactical teams are tasked.” Dave looked at Randy. “Hell, we’re helo-qualified. So’s Brick’s team. We can fill in for the Coasties.” Castillo nodded. “Do it. I’ll let them know we’ll provide the people.” Dave grinned. “Come on, Randy. Let’s break out the old CARs and get to it.” “Shit. You know I hate fallin’ out of a perfectly good chopper. And that’s all you do on that damned rope…fall out of the thing.” Stan started for the door. “I’m gonna go rig the Scarab. Shouldn’t take too long, and then we can drop the guys off at the Coast Guard station on the way to set up.” Sonny got to his feet. “I’ll go with you, Stan. I need to grab something from the boat. Rico, the car line’s patched up here. Grab it if she calls before I get back.” They were barely out of the parking lot before Stan started talking. “So…I hear Pete might be moving on.” “Man, are there no secrets in that place?” “The walls have ears…” Stan laughed. “No, it came over on the marshal grapevine. Amazing what you learn when two of your team are marshals. You think they’ll leave us alone?” “I don’t know, Stan. I wish to hell I did. We’ve got a damned fine team back there.” “Yeah. I never would have gotten this far back with Metro-Dade.” He paused. “If they disband the Task Force I’m dropping my papers. I can’t go back there, Sonny. No way.” “I get it, man. I’ve been thinking the same thing. They’d slap me behind a desk so fast your head would spin. At least you’d still be in the field.” “Yeah, but after this it’s like playing in the World Series and then being sent down to Little League. And they’d all just look at me and see fat old Switek.” Stan looked straight ahead, but Sonny could see his knuckles going white on the steering wheel. “And after I punched a couple of them out I’d be off the force anyhow, so better to do it on my terms.” “They’d be wrong, you know.” Sonny looked over at Stan. “You’re a damned fine cop, Stan. But I know what you mean about not wanting to go back there. I used to say I didn’t know what the hell else I’d do, but now…” “Yeah. A good lady changes your perspective a bit. I know Gina did mine.” They made the rest of the drive in what Sonny considered companionable silence. He could tell from the look on his face Stan was running through what signal booster to use, where to hide it, and what recorders he’d stash God knows where on the speedboat. Sonny didn’t mind. It gave him time to gather his own thoughts. When they got to the marina, he turned to Stan. “Do what ya gotta do, big guy. I’m gonna change into Burnett and grab my Detonics.” The lie slid easy off his tongue. “Forgot to strap the damned thing on this morning.” Stan nodded, already digging through the supply stash in the back of the van. “I’ll honk if you’re still below when I’m done.” He found Jenny on the foredeck, sprawled in a folding chair reading what looked like another business plan. She smiled when she saw him coming up the gangplank. “Are you done for the day?” “No. I need to get changed into the basic black.” He smiled and tipped his sunglasses down on his nose. “But I wanted to say hello.” She got up, the fluid motion making her breasts move in ways that gave him ideas he didn’t have time for. “I’ll come down with you.” Then her voice changed. “You’re meeting them again tonight aren’t you?” “Yeah. We’re gonna try for an arrest.” He raised his hand. “I know she’s nasty, baby. She’s nastier than you knew. I’ll tell you about it once we have the two of them in cuffs.” He pulled off his light blue blazer and dug through the after stateroom wardrobe for a black silk shirt and matching tie. “But have you seen anyone watching the boat?” “Aside from Mr. Rosenblatt when I’m wearing my white t-shirt?” She gave a forced giggle. “No, I don’t think so.” “Be careful. She’s got people with her now. They’ll be Bolivian and look military. Short haircuts. Standing straight when they don’t need to. They’re hard to miss once you start looking.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “I don’t think she’d know you were here, but she might be trying to keep tabs on me…I mean Burnett.” She smiled, lifting her shirt so he could see the MatchMaster tucked into the waistband of her cutoffs. Then she lifted the shirt more and giggled. “That’s for telling me what’s going on.” She let the shirt fall in a loose wave of white cotton. “I’ll be careful, Sonny. I don’t think she’d know where I am, but she might have traced Vellamo here. Boat people like to talk, and she is rare.” “Yeah.” He tightened the tie and slipped on a black blazer. “That reminds me. Did you ever see her with a guy who owned a bigger motor yacht?” “Sure. They’re all over the place in Bermuda and the Bahamas. I know that’s no help.” “Any guy in particular she palled around with?” “No.” She smiled. “I’m no help at all.” “No, it’s not that. She’s just damned careful.” Leaning forward, Sonny took her in his arms and kissed her. “I’ll be back tonight or early this morning. Be careful, darlin’.” “I will.” She grabbed him and kissed him back, pressing her firm body against him in a promise without words. “Now I gotta go.” He swatted her backside and grinned as she gave out a combination squeal and giggle. “Don’t want to make Stan wait.” Reaching down, he checked the Detonics to make sure it was secure in its holster. Stan was just jumping down from the Scarab when Sonny came above deck. “It’s all ready,” he said as they walked toward the Roach Coach. “I’ve got them all hooked to the boat’s electronics, so as soon as you fire her up everything goes live. Nothing to track, nothing to fuss with. The recorders won’t get much beyond twenty feet, though.” He shrugged. “Just how it is with those mics. There’s some new stuff in the works, but we don’t have it yet.” “It’ll do fine, Stan. We’ll make it work.” Sonny settled into the passenger seat and buckled up for the ride back to the office. “Disappointed you’re not going on this one?” “Yes and no.” Stan kept his eyes on the road, but Sonny could see he was thinking. Weighing his words. “I do get the rush you guys get from going in on bust. No question. But it’s also cool as hell sitting back here and knowing it’s all happening because of something I did. Running the radios. Getting all the taps to line up and go when you need them. It’s hard to explain, but it’s a hell of a rush on its own.” “And you’re damned good at it. I get it, Stan. Just curious which one you like better.” “Both. That’s what’s cool about Team Elvis. I get hitters and thinkers. And once in a while I get to put on the colors and be Biggs.” When they got back to the office the warrant team was just settling in around the conference room. Sonny nodded to the men, recognizing all of them from the Delgado takedown and Tiny and Brick from one of the attempts on Trudy’s life. After exchanging greetings he got down to business. “I don’t know how much Pete told you about the operation, but we’re going after some drug dealers who might be involved in some kind of coup plot in Bolivia. We don’t know how many men they have, but we can assume they’re all former Bolivian military, probably rangers or paratroopers.” Brick shook his head. “So you don’t know shit.” Sonny laughed. “More or less. We know the smugglers are using a sixty foot two-mast sailboat and we suspect they have a larger motor yacht somewhere close by. We might not get it, but we want the sailboat. Both of the targets should be on it, although at least one might be on a Zodiac or our Scarab.” He pointed to the pictures. “Those are the targets. Francisco Hoffmann and Monaele Jankow.” Trudy came out of her office. “I’ve got target folders for you. Everything we know about these two.” She gave a quick rundown of the history. “The biggest thing is she’s nastier than she looks. Some serious training in her background.” Tiny chuckled. “We’ll be careful. No question. At least we don’t gotta worry about finding pit bulls behind the door. I always hate that.” “You’ll be with us on the Scarab. The rest of your team, with Dave and Randy, will be waiting at the Coast Guard station with their chopper. They’ll likely scramble just after we make contact for the deal, but it could be before that.” Sonny looked at Castillo, who nodded. “It’s their show until the ropes drop, but they want these guys as much as we do so I don’t think they’ll drag their feet. You’ll most likely rope in on her boat. We’re pretty sure it’s a Moorings 60.” Trudy spoke up. “There’s a sketch map in the folders. That ship’s got two masts, so roping down might be a challenge. She can fit upwards of ten people on that thing, more if need be.” “They had at least three additional bodies at the first deal.” Sonny walked over to the map. “One of them died in Rumours, but they wouldn’t have hung him out as a target unless they had guns to spare. And they had UZIs at the first deal.” Brick nodded. “We’ll go heavy. MP-5s and shotguns. Except for your guys, who I’m sure will have CARs or something bigger. Just because.” He chuckled. “Damn Marines and their rifles. It won’t take them long to rope down, and we’ll secure the boat like we would a house.” Castillo spoke up. “Technically it’s the Coast Guard’s show, but your team will have tactical control as soon as the ropes touch the deck. If there’s a second ship in the area the helicopter will interdict and try to hold it in place until the cutters arrive.” “Shouldn’t be a big deal if they bring a door gun or two along,” Tiny said as he flipped through the fold. “Man, we’re goin’ after Nazis. That’ll make my grandad proud. He was part of Patton’s Third Army. And with me an’ Brick with you two I might get to see ‘em up close.” Sonny was about to comment when the phone rang, the lit line indicating it was the number he’d given Monaele. Raising a finger for silence he picked up. “Burnett.” “We have the product in the amount you require.” Her voice sounded thin, and he guessed she was using a radio phone from her boat. “We will do the deal as before. Can you write coordinates?” “Let me pull over.” Sonny gestured for a pen and paper, and Rico handed them over. “Go ahead.” She read off a series of numbers and letters. “Be there in your boat at eleven. I will have my boat close by.” “Cooper wants to know if you can do wire transfers. He’s not comfortable carrying that much cash around.” “Of course. I was going to insist, but it seems Mr. Cooper is professional.” “I don’t deal with amateurs, lady. Not on a regular basis. It’s how I stay in business.” “Good. We will see you then.” The connection broke, and the buzz of the dial tone filled Sonny’s ear. “She’s hooked. Eleven tonight at the coordinates on the pad. Going off memory it’s not international waters, but she’s keeping close to them in case she has to run. And it sounds like the same profile for the deal. And she’s good with wire transfers. Means she’s got some serious communication gear on that boat of hers.” Rico nodded. “Solid.” From the back of the room Randy spoke up. “Lock and load, boys. Get ready to rock and roll.” Sonny nodded, turning to Castillo and Rico. “We need to figure out where you’ll be in relation to the deal location, Marty. It sucks being out of support range, but it’s what we were dealt.” “It will work.” Castillo stared at the map, his eyes intent. “We’ll set up here.” He jabbed a finger on the map. “Switek, will we have good reception at that location?” “Sure.” Stan looked at the map with an experienced eye. “We should be able to monitor Sonny and Rico and communicate with the Coast Guard with no problem. Nothing nearby to jam the signals, and it’s a clear shot from there to the water and the Coast Guard station.” He shook his head. “I’d feel better if some of us were out there, though.” “Brick’s team, augmented with Blair and Mather, take up the whole helicopter. I won’t displace shooters so I can hover overhead.” Castillo’s voice was firm. “Captain?” Trudy spoke up, her voice strong but with a hitch Sonny thought he recognized. “Mindy and I could go on the boat. Provide some eye candy.” Sonny shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, Trudy, but this isn’t that kind of deal. She sounded keyed up, and so far Burnett’s been all business with them. It would look damned strange for him to bring his lady on a deal with two of his heavy hitters.” “I know. Just wanted to offer.” “And it’s appreciated.” Smiling, Sonny, turned to Brick. “You guys gonna be packing heavy?” Brick nodded. “I’ll have one of the MP-5s, and Tiny’s grown right partial to that SPAS shotgun of his. We’re already wearing black, so we’ll fit right in.” Sonny chuckled. “You’ve busted enough shooters to know the look. I play Burnett as a serious hard-ass, so his people would loom much and talk little.” He shivered, feeling little spiders dancing up and down his spine. Looking up, he saw Dave nod. “You got ‘em, too?” “Yep. Just like old times. We’ll have your back, boss.” They spent the next couple of hours going through drills and equipment checks. Then Randy looked at his watch and announced, “Time. Let’s roll, gents. We’ll wait for your signal.” Castillo nodded. “We’ll head out, too. I want to be in position before you leave the marina, Crockett.” He looked around, and Sonny thought he saw a certain melancholy in his old friend’s eyes. “Good luck, Task Force.” Dave thumped the table. “O-fuckin’-rah! Let’s do this!” Sonny pretended not to notice Mindy giving Rico a quick kiss as she passed by on her way out the door. Then it was just the four of them in the dark conference room. Brick looked around. “Don’t feel like a normal bust, does it?” Sonny shook his head, knowing the big man had only put into words what he’d been thinking. “No, not really. And I don’t know why.” Rico nodded. “Maybe it’s because we ain’t never really stopped a coup before.” “Could be.” But Sonny knew what was bothering him. Memories of another case years ago, but a man instead of a woman. He’d screwed up then and turned Hackman loose on the world. The bastard had killed the woman he loved, and snuffed out the life of a son he’d never know. He couldn’t…no, he wouldn’t…make that mistake again. Something was off about the meeting. He didn’t know what. But he did know that if anything went south, and if she tried to get away, he wouldn’t make the same mistake he’d made with Hackman. Jenny was afraid of Monaele Jankow, and he’d protect her. He almost jumped when Rico touched his arm. “You good, partner?” The voice that answered was the flat monotone of Sonny Burnett. “Never better. Let’s get this shit done.”

It was cooler out on the water, a fresh breeze enhanced by the speed of the Scarab as they cut through the calm sea. Sonny kept one hand on the wheel and the other close to the throttles, watching the gauges shift in their backlit orange glow. He wanted to run her all out, but they had a timeline to meet. And checking the chart and his compass, he knew it was time to throttle back a bit. Behind him he heard Tiny chuckle. “Yeah, I’d wanna run this baby full-out, too. Just don’t feel right poking along.” “Yeah, but we don’t want to hit the rendezvous too early. No point in looking too eager.” Rico nodded. “You got that right. And they’ll have to change their MO in any case. Can’t do no damned wire transfer on a raft, and you ain’t got the gear on this boat.” “We’ll tie up alongside her boat, then. No way we’re getting separated.” Sonny’s voice was firm. “That’s how I’d pick someone off if I wanted to get rid of them out here.” Brick spoke up. “You think they’ll go for it?” “Yeah. They won’t like it, but they won’t have a choice.” Sonny checked the chart again. “They need this deal too damned bad. I just wish we knew why.” “We can ask ‘em when we grab ‘em.” Rico shielded his face from another plume of spray. “Damn! I should have worn a cheaper suit.” “And ruin your image? What would New York say?” “New York can kiss my ass. They ain’t payin' for the dry cleaning.” Sonny grinned, glad he could lift the mood for even a moment. He knew he was having a hard time keeping on track, and guessed it was as bad if not worse for the other men on the boat. That damned ‘why’ still floated around in his head. They had a partial answer, thanks to Marty’s old friend Derek, but for Sonny there was another piece still out there. If Monaele was just here to raise money for some coup, why had she tried to find Jenny? Unless she never planned to come north again and saw this as her last chance to get her payback. “How close are we, partner?” Blinking, he looked at the chart again and did some quick calculations based on elapsed time and the boat’s speed. “About ten minutes. We should hit just before eleven. Same damned time they wanted you to radio. Maybe they dip into range about his time for some reason or another.” “Or they just have a thing for work close to midnight. Who can say with the damned Hitler Youth?” “You can ask ‘em when we grab ‘em.” Tiny racked a shell into his SPAS shotgun and flicked on the safety. “And I don’t know about you gents, but I’m lockin’ and loadin’.” Brick nodded, loading his own MP-5 and switching on the safety. Rico did the same with his Walther, and Sonny let the boat have its head for a moment while he loaded his Smith & Wesson and stuffed in back in his Jackass rig. “We’ll follow Rico’s lead for the most part, but I might toss some attitude at them if they get too pushy.” Sonny eased back on the throttles, and the boat’s nose settled into the water as it slowed even more. “Keep an eye on their guys.” Raising his wrist, he spoke more to Castillo than anyone else. “And you might want to launch the bird now. When this goes down we won’t have much time.” “At least they can’t outrun us.” Brick found a chuckle somewhere in his thick chest. “Not with a damned sailboat anyhow.” “No, we do have that.” Sonny shook his head. “And I’m a damned moron. Either of you any good with boats?” Brick nodded. “More than fair, I’d say. Lived out by Los Angeles for a few years. You want me to stay back?” “Yeah. If things go south Tiny’s shotgun will be better in close. And if they try to run you can cut loose and keep ‘em in sight until the bird gets here.” “You got it, boss.” He looked at the controls. “Mind if I take over?” “Go for it. I’m gonna switch that blinking assembly on so they know we’re here.” He looked out over the water. “Damned new moon. But I think I see ‘em off the starboard bow. Big black shadow maybe three hundred yards out. No lights.” Tiny squinted. “Yeah, there’s something there. Could be our birds.” The navigation lights came to life, red lights blinking while the green held steady. Seconds later an answering blink of green came from the low shadow. “And we have a winner.” Sonny grinned. “Ease us over that way, Brick.” They’d barely covered a hundred yards when the whine of an outboard motor reached Sonny’s ears. The Zodiac emerged from the gloom, and he could pick out a swatch of blonde hair in the bow. “No closer! We do the deal here.” Rico’s voice boomed. “Don’t be a bigger idiot than you already are, Frank! How the hell we gonna do a wire transfer on that toy? Didn’t your boss tell you how things work in the big leagues?” Sonny watched as the man raised what looked like a small radio and spoke into it. Brick eased back on the throttles and they idled next to the inflatable, Tiny staring down at the two men with Hoffmann. They could have been twins, one on the motor and the other close to Hoffmann. Both looked to be armed with UZIs. He had to freeze a smile off his face as Tiny coughed up phlegm and spat into the water inches from the side of the Zodiac. Perfect damned move! Hoffmann looked up, his pale face almost merging with his hair. “You are right. Follow us. We will tie the boats together and do the deal. But no tricks.” “Tricks ain’t my department. Business is my thing.” Rico grinned. “And I’m damned glad my associates aren’t here to see amateur hour. You gotta up your game if we’re gonna do more business.” Hoffman didn’t reply, just motioned to the guy on the motor who turned the Zodiac around and sent it bobbing toward the shadow in the near distance. Sonny nodded, and Brick eased the throttles forward, sending the Scarab through the water at what for the big boat was a crawl. “Just don’t run the shithead down,” Sonny muttered. “Thought I don’t know that it would be a loss.” “Roger that, boss.” Brick never took his eyes off the bouncing raft. “Tiny, watch that bigger boat close, hear? I don’t like the looks of it.” Sonny felt the opposite as the low-slung ship took shape out of the gloom. She was a twin-mast ride sure enough, with clean, raked lines and a hull that looked fit for long distances. The sails were furled, and he could just make out one or two men in the bow from the flashing green navigation lights. “Two up front,” he whispered just above the steady thumping of the Scarab’s twin V-8s. “Looks like two more aft. I think I might see her in the cockpit, but I can’t tell yet.” Tiny hefted his shotgun. “That deck’s awful open. They try anything up there, I’ll be able to knock ‘em down before they know what happened.” Sonny nodded. “Belowdecks is a bit trickier. But there’s only one way in or out. They’ll still have one big advantage.” Rico nodded. “Yeah. We need ‘em alive.” The Zodiac bounced around the stern of the ship, coming to a stop inside the arc of a lift system mounted above the fantail. In seconds the craft was hoisted in the air, Hoffmann and his crew jumping down to the deck as the inflatable was secured. Brick eased the Scarab beside the sailboat, cutting most of the engine power and letting the smaller craft drift into position. Two lines acred across, and Tiny made them fast to belay points on the sides of the Scarab. Rico looked at Sonny and grinned. “Let’s get this shit done.” Finding the gap in the lines running like a low fence around the sides of the sailboat he scrambled on board. Sonny followed, the slick soles of his black slip-ons losing purchase for a moment until he used the lines to steady himself. Tiny followed, his eyes and shotgun missing nothing. Hoffman was in the middle of an animated discussion in German about something, when Monaele silenced him with a raised hand. “Frank will go below and bring up samples.” She looked from Sonny to Rico, her eyes missing nothing. “I am sure you will want to test.” “You got that right, lady. And you’ll want to authenticate my bank codes.” Reaching into his jacket, Rico pulled out a slip of paper. “That’s the first set. You get the rest once the product checks out and we’ve loaded half of it.” She nodded, and Sonny saw her checking out both Tiny and Brick. “That seems fair. And I apologize for the show with the small boat.” Sonny kept his voice Burnett-flat. “Old habits. Yeah, I get that. Hell of a jump from whatever you were running before to narcotics.” “Do I ask about your affairs?” “No. You had your partner do that. Things get back to me, lady. And I like to know a bit about people I’m dealing with. I know just about all the runners in the dope racket in South Florida, and you ain’t one of them.” “No. I work north of here. And no, not usually with drugs.” “Sure. Guns and art. Makes sense with the stealth and small boat routine.” Sonny wanted to keep poking, but he could see her getting nervous and didn’t want to push too hard. It was a fine line, and crossing it would get them nowhere. “Never my style, but it can turn good money. Just takes a different touch than I’m used to.” “And what might you be used to?” “Scale, lady. One load of high-grade coke will buy three boats like that one.” He waved toward the Scarab. “Maybe more. So you load four boats and send ‘em balls to the wall from someplace offshore to the coast. You lose one, you can buy nine more like it on the profits from the three that got through. Used to be you could beat the Coast Guard with stealth. Now it takes spend and numbers.” “I see.” She looked at him with an appraising glance. “And this works well for you?” “Damn straight. There’s other tricks, too. But I don’t put out on the first date.” Rico laughed. “Burnett here is all business, my dear. Me? I mix business with pleasure. But my business is different than his. And I see your assistant is back with the product.” He nodded toward Hoffmann, who was coming up from below with four different bricks of cocaine. “I’ll test these while you make your checks.” “Yeah. We sit here too long someone might notice. Maybe competition like we saw the other night.” Sonny looked back toward the Scarab. “Keep that nav radar on. Let me know if anything pops up uninvited.” He smiled at the girl. “I’m not expecting any company.” “Neither am I.” She turned and started below. “The radio equipment is below. Frank will keep you company until I’m done.” Sonny shrugged, using his bored act to scout out the ship better. Like Tiny said, the deck was open and clear except for a low wheelhouse and some associated navigation gear. An open hatch led below, and the men who’d been with Hoffmann had disappeared down there as soon as the Zodiac was secure. Working security or going off shift? Sonny couldn’t tell. The other four men lounged on the deck, bracing themselves on the masts or lines as the ship rocked up and down with the waves. None of them looked especially comfortable at sea, but they all looked familiar with the UZIs slung from their shoulders. Rico shook his last test tube and held it up in the light from the wheelhouse. “Looks good. We have a deal.” Monaele came up from below seconds later. “Yes, we do. The first codes are good.” She turned to Hoffmann. “Have the men move the product to Burnett’s boat. We need to be ready to depart as soon as the transfer’s complete.” Sonny looked at Rico, who gave a slight shake of his head. Yeah. We gotta be patient. Get at least some of the stuff on the boat before we try to take them. But it’s a damned thin line. “My guy will show them where to load the stuff.” He nodded to Tiny. “This one stays here.” She nodded. “Of course.” As the men moved back and forth with gym bags of drugs, Sonny found himself watching the girl even more. She’d lost the pencil skirt and business look, wearing instead tight black jeans and a top of some dark material he couldn’t identify and a short black leather jacket. There was a distinct bulge at the hip where he figured she had a pistol of some kind. But on the boat she moved with authority, while Hoffmann looked as lost as he had in the club and every other time Sonny had seen him. Here she was clearly in charge. There was a pause in the loading. “That is roughly half of the product,” she announced. Rico smiled his smooth Cooper smile. “Of course.” He reached into his jacket pocket. “And here’s the second set of codes.” Sonny caught Brick’s eye and nodded, signaling the big man to give Castillo the code phrase. “Engine’s lookin’ good, boss,” the big man shouted across the water, and Sonny knew the wrist mic would pick it up loud and clear. Back on shore, Lester sat up like someone had hit him with a cattle prod. “That’s it, captain. The call.” Castillo nodded, his face a stark outline in the light from the equipment in the van. He raised a radio mic and keyed the transmitter. “Go.” The pilot’s voice crackled through their headsets. “We got the order. It’s a go.” The deputy marshals in the back of the Coast Guard HH-60J looked at each other and nodded, checking their ropes and equipment one last time. Dave slapped Randy on the back and checked his CAR-15 by feel. He’d done this more times than he could remember, first with M-14s and then M-16s in Vietnam and an assortment of long guns since then. Feeling the metal under his fingers, even through repelling gloves, did much to keep the spiders dancing on his spine at bay. They’d been orbiting at low level for just over ten minutes when the call came in. Unlike the Hueys he’d ridden in Vietnam, the HH-60’s nose didn’t drop when it accelerated. But he could tell from the engine pitch they’d picked up speed considerably, and the big bird was also faster than any Huey he’d been in before. Looking out the open cargo door he imagined he could see the white caps of waves whipping past as the pilot held the bird at maybe thirty feet above the water. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the feeling. Sonny had hit it right. Something was off about this one, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. And Dave hated not being able to pin things down. Maybe it was because the Hitler Youth were such glaring amateurs at the business. Or maybe it was the prospect of a firefight with former Bolivian military. He wasn’t sure. But it bothered him. He ran his fingers over the carbine again, feeling the familiar edges of the bolt release, checking the fit of the magazine, running his thump along the safety, knowing a quick push would flip it all the way from safe to rock and roll. Little things. Little routines. Settling his mind into the discipline of drills and training. Years of practice. It seemed only seconds had passed when he saw the door gunner on the left side of the bird tense and point. The crew chief gave the signal, and the deputies braced a foot by their ropes, ready to kick them out the door. The bird flared, and a searchlight mounted in the nose came to life with the brilliance of a thousand suns Then the pilot’s voice crackled through a loudspeaker. “U.S. Coast Guard! Prepare to be boarded and searched!” Sonny felt the helicopter before he heard it, a faint vibration in the hair on his arms and the back of his neck taking him all the way back to Vietnam. He turned to Rico and faked a snarl. “We need to get moving, Cooper. I feel like I’m strapped to a target out here.” Rico looked at him and started to reply when he heard the helicopter. “What the hell is this?” Monaele turned and barked something in German to one of the crewmen. When she turned back to them, her eyes were hot. “This is your doing!” “Like hell, you dumb bitch. You’re the amateur here. Or maybe the rat!” Sonny made a show of starting to reach under his blazer when the spotlight blazed to life and the pilot’s voice cracked over them like a whip. Hoffmann’s voice was a scream. “Kill them!” Half-blinded by the searchlight, Sonny pulled his Smith & Wesson and let the sight hover over Hoffmann’s legs. “Deputy marshal! Drop your weapons and put up your hands!” Over the thump of the helicopter and the shouts of men he thought he heard another engine start, but there was no time. Hoffmann yanked a pistol from the waistband of his jeans, and Sonny shot him high in the leg. Tiny’s shotgun boomed twice nearby, and he thought he heard Rico’s Walther pop through the ringing in his ears. Then black snakes feel from the sky and the warrant team with Dave and Randy rappelled to the deck. “Cover them!” In two steps Sonny was beside Hoffmann in the aft seating area, kicking the pistol away from his straining fingers and kicking him hard between the legs. “Just lay there! Brick? You good?” “Fine, boss.” The big man’s shout echoed form the Scarab. Seeing a flash of movement near the bow, Sonny fired twice and heard a heavy splash as a body fell into the water. Muzzle flashes bloomed like flowers from the opposite side of the bow, and he went sprawling as slugs ripped up the wood decking. Then Randy was at his side, his CAR muzzle flashing brilliant fireworks as he put a three-round burst into the Bolivian gunman. The rest of the team moved with a familiar fluidity, clearing the deck and then sweeping below in a single, trained motion. Shouts of “clear” echoed from below, and then Dave stuck his head out. “Boss…you gotta see this.” The saloon had been converted into a sort of war room, the walls covered with maps of South Florida and Bolivia. Routes were traced in red and blue ink, and documents covered the table. Sonny looked around, and then his blood ran cold. One corner was dedicated to his marina. Photos of the St. Vitus Dance. One or two of him. And way too many of… He turned away, his voice hard and cold. “Where’s the fucking bitch?” Rico stood in the gangway. “I don’t…” “Where’s that damend girl?” Tiny shook his head. “They cut the damned Zodiac down just before the shooting started, boss. I think she lit out in that.” “Get the bird.” “It’s looking for the motor yacht.” Rico’s voice was stretched thin. “And Randy told me it’s got orders to stay on station until the cutters get here.” Turning, Sonny walked over to Hoffmann and aimed another kick at his sprawled body, ignoring the red strain spreading from his leg. “Did she go to the marina? Answer me, punk, or this shit gets much worse real fast.” “Yes.” The words came from between gritted teeth. “She will try to finish the girl. I don’t know why. She wanted to kill her before we left Florida in any case.” In two steps Sonny was at the rail. “Brick! Come on over and help them secure the boat. I’m heading in.” Rico’s voice came from behind him. “Sonny! Call it in, man! They can get there…” “Slower than I can.” Sonny cast off the lines and took a last look at his partner and friend. “I can’t let her die, Rico. Not again.” Then he slammed the throttles wide open and the Scarab leapt away with a roar. In the Roach Coach, Trudy turned and looked at Castillo. “We should go to the marina.” He shook his head. “We can’t. We still have to control the scene and wrap up the operation.” He sighed. “And he’s right. He’ll get there before we could. I’d send the helicopter, but it’s not under our control.” He saw the pain in her eyes, knowing it reflected his own. “By the time we could get there it would be too late. And this is something Sonny has to do on his own. We’ll move as soon as they report the cutters on station.” Sonny didn’t feel the wind slapping him in the face, or the salt spray stinging his eyes. He watched the gauges, backing off a bit if things ran too hot but running the boat as hard as he dared. She had a head start, but he was sure he had the speed. He just hoped it was enough. The Scarab lifted itself out of the water with each wave, cutting through and slamming back down. Eventually he did have to back off a bit as the water got rougher. He cursed, then realized it didn’t matter. She’d face the same problem and have to slow down, too. Maybe sooner than he had. The Zodiac wasn’t as good in rough seas as the Scarab. A part of him felt guilty about leaving Tubbs and the team. He should be back there, not running across the water with a hundred keys of cocaine loaded in his boat. But one look at those pictures told him all he needed to know. And this time he wouldn’t hesitate. Soon the marina lights came into view, and he throttled back to make the passage through the buoy line and into the sheltered anchorage. Most fo the boats were dark and still, their owners either asleep or ashore somewhere doing God knows what. He just hoped she’d stayed with Angie again, but also knew he wouldn’t get that lucky.. He killed the engine and let the Scarab drift into its mooring spot, jumping onto the dock as soon as he was close enough. Pistol in hand, he covered the distance to the gangplank in maybe two heartbeats. Shadows danced and played on the weathered boards as a light breeze stirred rigging and badly-furled sails on the boats around his. But the weak dock lights did little to dispel the gloom. Then he saw the candle flickering in the saloon port and knew she was there. He started up the gangplank, ears straining to catch any sound. “Jenny?” he whispered, sweeping the 4506-1 back and forth with each step. “Darlin’? It’s me. Sonny. Are you…” Something stabbed him in the left side and he fell to the deck unable to move. It was like he’d just been hit by lightning. All he could do was try to breath and stare up into those cold eyes as she stepped out from the shadows by the mast. Jenny Walker had been dozing in the aft stateroom when she heard the first noise. It had been a long day, going through the last set of operations plans with Angie, and she wanted sleep. But she wanted Sonny more, so she’d forced herself to stay awake, waiting for him to come home. She’d set up this meeting to make sure her money was going where it needed to in order to keep Caitlin’s House running. In her first life, when she still did what her daddy wanted, Jenny had been taking business classes and helping him with his work, so she understood finance. Her money was best used to keep the doors open; paying power and water bills and upkeep on the house. It was a fixed amount, so it was easy to budget that way and the extra could create an emergency fund. Caitlin’s holdings, now controlled by Sonny, were more complicated, but she thought she and Angie had finally worked that part out, too. They were even holding the first staff interviews next week. She smiled and closed the binder. It made her smile to think she’d be able to tell Sonny the house would be up and running before the end of the year. It had been a long ride from that first day when she’d wandered down the dock with a six pack hoping to get his attention. But she’d known from that day he was the one, known it with a certainty her heart could explain without words. She smiled, thinking of those first weeks and how they’d stretched into months. Shifting, she felt the white t-shirt pull a bit in the shoulders. Soon she thought. Leaving her second life hadn’t been a question once she decided he was real and that he loved her. Smuggling art had been fun at first, but then she started bumping into the other parts of the smuggling life: people who ran guns, drugs, or even other people. The hard, nasty side Monadele seemed called to while Jenny turned away. Looking back she wasn’t even sure how she’d drifted into it herself. Only that she was glad she’d left. Looking over, she saw the picture of Caitlin again. She knew he’d expected her to make him take it down, but the thought never occurred to her. Without Caitlin, Sonny wouldn’t be the man she’d fallen in love with, and Jenny thanked her for the gift every time they went to her grave. And she did admire Caitlin for having the ability to see past the punk Sonny had been and start to shape the man he’d become. And after talking to Angie, she knew her admiration hadn’t been misplaced. The wind picked up a bit, changing the rhythm of the waves slapping the side of the boat. It also kept her from hearing something bump against the hull. But she heard the light footsteps on the deck above her. At first she thought it might be Sonny, and she started to unzip the cutoffs. Then she stopped. The steps weren’t right. They were too light. Too… Reaching under the pillow she pulled out the MatchMaster Trudy had given her and checked the chamber. Loaded. Good. Hefting the familiar weight, she tucked it into the waistband of the cutoffs. She doesn’t know what she walked in to. They’d been friends once. She and Monaele. Back in the early days, when Jenny was just hitting her stride and Monaele was the rich girl who wanted to learn. Her and that big, stupid boat of hers. What good was a boat if you couldn’t crew her yourself? But Monaele always wanted to have boys fawning around. Not men, but boys. Boys she could feel superior to and cast aside when she was tired of them. She’d made enemies that way, and Jenny was pretty sure it was one of her former lovers who’d turned her in. And now she was here. Jenny smiled, her blue eyes determined. She slid off the bed without a sound, moving from the stateroom to the saloon like a shadow. She thought she heard his voice over the slap of the waves and the creak of the boat’s rigging, and started to reply. It was then she heard the heavy thud. Monaele’s voice floated down the gangway. “Your little toy might be broken, Jenny. You’d better come up and check.” Jenny covered the few feet in a heartbeat, and came up to see Sonny sprawled on the deck twitching. Monaele stood over him, a long black box in one hand and a SiG 9mmin the other. “I hit him with this,” she said, displaying the stun gun with a casual wave. “And maybe I’ll finish him with this.” She shifted the SiG so it was pointing at his head. “Or maybe I’ll start lower.” “No.” Her voice was firm. Hard. She remembered the man she’d killed when he came after Trudy. Monaele had the same eyes. Empty and evil. And the same dead blackness flickering around her. “Silly girl. You don’t have it in you. You never did. You were always soft. Always needed someone to hide behind. Daddy. His money.” “And whose money do you hide behind, Monaele? It’s not yours. I made my own way. Earned my own boat.” The anger rose in her now. “You had daddy buy you that big barge of yours. But I guess you need that to haul your fat ass around and all those boys you played with. Did you ever think one of them might have given you up?” “It doesn’t matter. Now I have to start over because of this cop.” She glared down at Sonny’s twitching form. “But I can still have some fun. Make you suffer first. I’ll shoot him, and then maybe you. Or maybe I won’t shoot you, and you’ll have to live with what happened to him.” Jenny shook her head, bringing up the big .45. “I don’t think so, bitch.” “Your hand’s shaking. You can’t shoot me. You don’t have the guts.” Sonny tried to swim through the fog, but someone kept tugging him back under. Things would swim into focus then fade out again, but as the shock wore off the fuzz lifted away. He saw Monaele standing over him with a SiG, and Jenny in the gangway. Jenny! He tried to move, but his muscles refused to respond to commands. He tried to shout, but nothing came out. He heard Monaele make her threat, and he looked over at Jenny, seeing something in her eyes he’d never seen before. “You can’t shoot me. You don’t have the guts.” Jenny’s voice was cold, distant. And somehow familiar. “Wrong.” He saw Monaele’s eyes go wide, sensing for the first time she’d underestimated Jenny. She started to raise the SiG, and then three shots boomed out from a .45. The impact spun Monaele around, and in the flash of motion Sonny saw that he could have covered all three bullet holes with his hand. Then her dead body crashed to the deck and he felt Jenny’s arms around him. Martin Castillo draped his suit coat around Jenny’s shoulders, more to shield her from the swarming Metro-Dade officers than as protection from the cold. The Roach Coach had rolled in five miuntes before the uniforms arrived, giving him time to assess the situation and see to things. Trudy put her arm around Jenny. “He’s gonna be find. Those stun guns just hit you with a big jolt of electricity. He’s still a bit groggy, but it’ll pass quickly.” One of the uniforms came over. “We need to interview her. Now.” Castillo turned, his eyes blazing as he showed the fat sergeant his badge. “Captain Castillo. Seconded to the U.S. Marshal’s Special Task Force. She’s involved in a Federal case, which is not in your jurisdiction.” His eyes narrowed as he read the number on the man’s badge. “You’re the sergeant who harassed my African-American Lieutenant when my sergeant was shot. How are you still wearing those stripes?” “Relax, hoss, I mean captain. I…” “I don’t care who your rabbi is. Who you think your guardian angel is. You just attempted to interfere with a material witness in a Federal case. You have one second to leave the scene before I have you arrested on Federal charges. And you will lose those stripes.” The man’s mouth opened, then snapped shut as Trudy started to move toward him. Then Stan appeared out of the darkness, big and mean and ready to go. “I remember this asshole, captain. He weaseled his way out of an IAD investigation for beating up hookers. Who’d you give up to beat that rap, fatso?” “You always were a bitch, Switek. Even on patrol.” The sergeant’s anger overcame any common sense he might have had. “Think you can talk that way to me?” Castillo turned to Stan. “Sergeant Switek, arrest this man. He’s attempting to interfere with a Federal witness and refused to obey a lawful order to leave the scene. We’ll hold him until the marshals arrive on scene and can take custody.” The man started to stammer, and then stopped when he saw the look on Castillo’s face. Stan grinned a big, mean Biggs grin and stretched out his hand. “Cough up the piece, pal. And your holdout, too. No Overton kids around here for you to drop it on after you shoot them. Yeah, I know your tricks, pal.” Jenny looked up, and Castillo saw a kindred light in her eyes. “He’s an evil man, you know.” “I know. And now his time’s up. There’s always been more than one leak in Metro-Dade, and we might have found the second one tonight.” He favored her with one of his full smiles. “But that’s not your problem. Look after Sonny.” “I will, Martin. Thank you again for bringing him to me.” “But now we’re even. You saved him for both of us tonight.” She smiled. “I guess I did. But I was thinking more about ending her. She was like the man they sent to kill Trudy. Already dead.” “In many ways.” He looked over at Trudy and smiled. “Maybe Trudy will tell you about her. I need to check on Crockett now.” Sonny was sitting in the back of the ambulance bitching at the EMT. “I’m fine, damned it! You don’t need to stick that thermometer up my ass or probe anything else.” Castillo smiled. “If he’s complaining, he’s fine. Can we have a minute?” The EMT nodded. “Sure. We’re not gonna transport him in any case. I got a look at the stunner she used. It’s not one of the dangerous ones. Just take some aspirin if you start having aches.” Sonny waited until the man walked to the front of the ambulance. “How’s Jenny? I saw her shoot that bitch.” “She’s fine. Just like she was when she shot Menton’s man. We both owe her now.” “Yeah.” He looked over, seeing her slim form as she talked with Trudy. “Who’d have thought it coming from her?” Then he looked down. “I shouldn’t have left the scene, Marty. It was a lapse in judgement.” “But perfectly natural. Especially after the whole thing with Hackman. The scene was calm, there were no hostiles left, and Tubbs had things well in hand. Consider it closed.” He rubbed his eyes, feeling the night’s pressure starting to slide away. “Tubbs did say they recovered a bunch of documents from the boat. Mindy and Trudy will go through them since they’re mostly in Spanish or he thinks German, but it should be enough to stop any coup that might be brewing down there.” “Our good deed for the day.” Sonny chuckled. “Maybe. Who can tell. But we’ll keep copies of anything interesting, just like we did with Maynard’s papers. And Moncado’s. And Delgado’s.” “What do you think will happen to the boat?” “It will be seized and processed by the Marshal’s Service.” “I…I might actually try to buy it. I’m gonna talk to Jenny and see. It’s bigger than the Dance, and it’s something we could use for like team vacations.” He smiled. “Or she and I could just live on it, and if anything turns up we’ve got room to accommodate it.” “I’ll let Chief Deputy Washington know.” Castillo stared out toward the ocean, hearing the slap of the waves against boat hulls over the babble of voices and grumbling of idling engines. Or at least he imagined he did. “You should go speak to her. Let her know you’re ok.” “Yeah.” Sonny looked out in the same direction as Castillo, and when he spoke his voice was softer. “You think this was our last rodeo?” “I don’t know. But if it was I can’t think of a better way to say goodbye to it all.” “Neither can I, Marty. Neither can I.”

It was almost midnight when Martin Castillo stepped out of the shadows surrounding the crumbling boathouse. “Isn’t this a bit cliche, Derek? Even for you?” The man he was meeting gave a short snort that might have passed for a laugh and stepped out of his rented Chevy. His tan London Fog trench coat shone with newness in the wan light from a single fixture mounted to the side of the boat house. “Yeah, I suppose. But with the Cold War ending and all we gotta take what we can get. You look good, Marty.” “So do you, since we’re lying to each other.” Castillo smiled. Derek looked like hell, his thin face worn and battered by years spent fighting the shadow war with the Soviets and God knew how many other enemies foreign and domestic. He’d first met Derek in Saigon when he was with Project Phoenix and Derek was an advisor on loan to the South Vietnamese National Police. Their paths kept crossing over the years, and they’d helped each other now and again. “You still working South America?” “When they let me. Hell, they’ve tried to put me out to pasture so many damned times I feel like a dried-up milch cow. But they always come back. Must be my winning personality.” “Or you know where all the bodies are buried.” Castillo moved out of the cone of light from the overhead, seeing Derek do the same. Old habits and all that. No point in making it easy for anyone. “You and me both, Marty. I heard about Jack, by the way. A few years too late, but you have my sympathy. He was a great agent.” “Yes. And a good friend.” “And we don’t have many of those, do we?” Derek chuckled. “So how can I help? I owe you at least one favor if I remember correctly. Probably more like ten, but who counts these days?” “I’ve got a case with ties to Bolivia.” “Man, South America is so yesterday’s news. You should be poking around Africa with the rest of the cool kids. Lucky for you I’m not cool, either.” Derek grinned. “Let me guess. This is about old Herr Hoffmann and his good pal Herr Jankow.” “You know them?” “Not socially. They’re two crazy old Nazis who live in one of those mountain compounds scattered around South America. You know, the ones where they only speak German and shoot any natives who get too close? Yeah, one of those.” “What made you think of them?” “I’ve been warning Langley about them for years now. Three to be precise. But no one listens. Like I said, it’s all Africa now. ‘We are the World’ and all that. This new guy in the White House has a stiffy for the whole continent, and money follows presidential stiffies.” “DEA doesn’t have much on them.” “They wouldn’t. This is above their pay grade.” Derek took a step closer, and Castillo could see the light in his eyes. “I’ve been watching those two goose-stepping psychos for almost ten years, but didn’t start putting it together until they sent their kids into the Caribbean. Playing smugglers or some shit. But it’s bigger than that. Those two have ties in the Bolivian army. Not the regular army, mind. The special operations sections. At least two of the commanders of the ranger regiments are frequent guests at the old homestead. So’s the colonel in charge of the airborne infantry regiment. They pick their friends well.” “How’s that?” “All hard-line types with strong Spanish bloodlines. No Indians in ‘em at all. I’ve watched stuff move in and out of that compound, seen them change from coffee to coco, and all kinds of other shit. Those old boys are planning a coup, Marty. I’d bet my secret squirrel decoder ring on it. And you know I love that damned thing.” “Is that what you took to Langley?” “Hell, no. I had a full file. Imagery. Reports of conversations between the colonels and the Nazis. You name it. And they just nodded and shredded it all. ‘Crazy old men’ they said. ‘Nothing to it’ they said. But you know the trouble with crazy old men? They dream with their eyes open.” “Well, we might be able to break this one for you, Derek.” “Man I hope so. Just watch those kids. Especially the girl. The way I heard it she trained with one of those ranger regiments before she turned into a bikini pirate. The son? He’d rather be buggering his way across the seven seas. But he’s loyal to daddy and does what he’s told.” Castillo nodded. It made sense, including the reasons Langley would ignore the reports. It also explained why his other contact and Tubbs’ DEA friend had nothing on it. And he trusted Derek. The man lived and breathed field work and tradecraft. If he said there was something there, that was all Castillo needed. “Thanks. I’ll be in touch.” “Don’t bother. I’ll just watch the papers. But tell your people to be careful. These two might be virgins when it comes to drug smuggling, but they’ve done their share of wet work in the mountains of Bolivia. Especially that girl. Monaele. She’s a nasty piece of work. Don’t let the looks fool you.” “I never do. Take care of yourself, Derek.” Castillo waited until the rental car disappeared around a bend in the road before turning and heading back to his own vehicle. With any luck he’d get back in time to hear Trudy play some more. He needed the jazz to sort through the thoughts in his head. Sonny looked from Castillo to Rico and back again. “So do you believe this guy?” “Yes. He’s unconventional, but he’s got a sharp mind. And he knows South America like the back of his hand. If he says there’s a coup in the making, I believe him.” “But they don’t have a chance.” “Maybe not. But as Derek says, desperate old men dream with their eyes open. Their coup might fail, but it would be a bloodbath either way.” Rico nodded. “Yeah. Worse than the drug wars, and that takes some doing.” “And we’d sit on our hands.” Sonny shook his head, seeing the evacuation of Saigon all over again in his mind. The fear on the faces of the Vietnamese they got out. And the hot rage on those they didn’t. “Been through one of those already, and I don’t care to see another one.” “We won’t.” Castillo’s voice had the cold firmness to it showing he’d made up his mind. “We’re going to stop those two. It’s clear the old men trust no one else to do the fundraising for their cause. We shut them down, the plan likely sinks from its own delusions.” Rico nodded. “And we’re on for tonight. That chump came back on the radio almost before I clicked off the mic. They want this deal. No question.” Before Sonny could reply, there was a knock on the door and Mindy came in. Her face was paler than usual, and the papers she held in her hands shook. “I got the report on Jankow’s father.” Rico took the papers and smiled, but Sonny saw it had no effect. Rico scanned the first sheet, turned to the second, and squeezed Mindy’s hand hard. “It’s ok, lady.” Then he set the papers on the desk. Castillo read quickly, summarizing as he scanned. “Her father was SS. Part of the SD as well.” He looked up at Sonny. “Their supposed intelligence service. In 1942 he let one of the killing squads in the Ukraine. His unit killed over fifteen thousand people in just over a year. Russian POWs, women, children, Jews, gypsies, anyone who got in their way. Then he got greedy. The SS arrested him for theft of all things when he was second in command at one of the smaller concentration camps in Poland. When everything fell apart in 1945 he slipped out through the Vatican City and headed for Argentina. His family had commercial interests there before the war. There and Bolivia.” “We might not be able to get him, but we sure as hell can get his daughter.” Sonny felt the rage rolling in him, and used Burnett’s cold calm to lock it down. “Look, we can’t show that we know anything about her. Or him. They’ll smell it, and if they do they’re gone. If it helps, think of them as any other drug dealer.” Castillo nodded. “I know you’re angry. Use that anger. Master it, don’t let it master you. Crockett’s right. We have one shot at these two. And Derek warned especially about the girl. I’m counting on you and the rest of the team to bring them in or take them down.” Sonny nodded. “Thanks, Mindy. I’m guessing Trudy already saw this.” He smiled when she nodded. “It’s ok. We’ll talk about it during the overview, which should be in about ten minutes. Spread the word.” Once she left he turned to Castillo. “They’ll handle it, Marty. It’s a matter of staying focused on the mission. That and those Columbians are still out there somewhere. We can’t afford to get pissed and get sloppy.” “Let me talk to them and then we’ll walk through the plan.” Out in the conference room Sonny turned to Rico. “She gonna be ok, partner?” “Yeah. I think her grandfather was in one of the units that liberated Dachau. He used to show them pictures.” “Just when you thought you’d seen it all in this job…” Sonny let his voice trail off as the others took their seats and Castillo came out of his office. “By now you all know who we’re up against,” he said as he sat down. “But we have to stay focused on our objective: shutting down Hoffmann and Jankow. Who their parents are, and what they did, doesn’t factor into that. I learned last night that Jankow is a bigger threat than we thought. She’s trained with Bolivian ranger units and has likely killed before. She’s a skilled, vicious adversary. If she even thinks we aren’t who we say we are, she’ll disappear. And we cannot allow that. Someone that dangerous cannot be allowed to start over somewhere else.” Sonny nodded, taking Castillo’s slight nod as his cue. “And those Columbians are out there somewhere, too. They aren’t as well-trained, but they’re vicious little bastards in their own right and we know how the game’s changed. At least now the FBI’s actually doing their jobs and chasing real criminals, so we don’t have to worry about them blundering into the line of fire. And nothing we know now changes the plan.” Stan nodded. “Lester and Mindy will be wired for sound and have earpieces as well. Lester will signal when overwatch spots the Nazi twins and if any of the Columbians decide to join the party Mindy will signal.” Lester grinned. “I might not be in your class yet, Sonny, but I spent all morning on the range with Dave and Randy.” Dave chuckled. “He ain’t gonna shoot himself in the foot at least. Actually he ain’t half bad for a tech guy. We got him set up with the Browning like Stan’s. Easy to shoot and nothing fancy.” Sonny nodded. “Good. If anything goes down I’ll be the primary shooter inside. Burnett and all. He ain’t the kind to just sit and watch.” Mindy looked up, and Sonny could tell she’d gathered her feelings in close for now. “What happens if it goes really south?” “You two can take a hand and I’ll say you’re my people. Hell, Burnett ain’t dumb enough to wander into a meet with strangers with no cover. They might even have one or two of their boys stashed in the place somewhere. We only saw the one up close.” “If they have people we should assume they’re former Bolivian military. Rangers or paratroopers.” Castillo looked around the table. “They will be good and quick on the trigger. Don’t take any risks.” “Sonny and I will be live but deaf.” Rico chuckled. “No good way for us to hide those earpieces in close, and we don’t want to make them more nervous than we have to.” Castillo looked around the table. “If there’s nothing else get ready to move out. I’ll be with the Roach Coach tonight. With deputies Blair and Mather in overwatch you might need an extra body on the ground.” Trudy nodded. “I’ll second that, captain. I’ve done some digging into those Columbians and Sonny isn’t kidding. They’re vicious little bastards and have a thing for small automatic weapons. If they manage to find those two, they’ll hit them hard and not give a damn where they are or who they’re with.” She smiled. “So we’ll be keeping Stan company tonight.” There wasn’t much to say on the drive to Rumours. Sonny kept a light hand on the wheel, easing the Ferrari through the evening traffic like he had nothing better to do. And this was something he and Rico had done hundreds of times before. The drive to another meet with their play-acting clothes and faces on full display. He’d slid into Burnett easily, maybe too easily. The dark suit and dark tie going well with the dark glasses and the thoughts rolling around in his head. He’d keep it cool around the girl; that was his job. But if she got too close to Jenny… “You think those chumps will try anything tonight?” Sonny shrugged, thankful Rico had yanked him back to the job at hand. “I think the Hitler Youth want this deal too damned bad to try anything funny. Not yet, anyhow. Not good for business.” He looked at the cars sliding past as they turned off the main drag. “And the Columbians would have to find them first.” “Yeah, but I’m thinking those two wouldn’t be hard to find. They still don’t get this game.” “She’s trained. And smugglers usually don’t take out full-page ads in the Herald.” “Just so you know, partner, I’m gonna play them tough. My guys in New York are getting kinda burned on Miami coke.” “Yeah. We’ve shut down enough pipelines they would be.” Sonny slowed the Ferrari to a crawl and turned into Rumours’ well-lit parking lot. “And we’re on scene. I’ll back whatever play you make, Rico. Burnett’s all about the money, after all.” The doorman looked like he was about to argue until he saw Sonny’s glare and the Rolex decorating Rico’s wrist. The smile came up and the rope went down. “Welcome to Rumours, gentlemen.” He did a double take. “Mr. Burnett! It’s been a few years.” Sonny looked back, his brain sorting through the almost endless chain of big guys with square jaws and bad haircuts he’d dealt with over the years. “Julio, right? Used to work the down down at the Copa?” “Good memory, sir. Yeah, but once that dump burned down I had to find a new gig. You two enjoy your evening.” Rico raised an eyebrow, but Sonny didn’t reply until they were inside. “I don’t remember him that well. The Copa was one of the places the Manolo organization owned.” “Got ya.” Rico looked around, peering through the strobe lights and shimmering glare from the metal fixtures along Rumors’ long bar. “I see our two at the bar. I gotta say Lester does look the part.” Sonny followed his glance and saw Lester wearing a tailored dark blazer and loose linnen pants. Mindy was close by, her dress a subdued blue that set off her hair. Lester’s foot kept tapping in time to the aggressive techno beat, and he looked like one of the dozens of dance music fans packing the club. “Yeah, he does at that.” He nodded toward the back. “Let’s grab that table before some coked-up dance boy gets there first.” They had just settled in and ordered drinks when Sonny looked toward the bar and saw Lester raise his glass like he was toasting Mindy. “Looks like the Hitler Youth are on their way in,” he said to Rico over the booming bass. “I wonder if any of their people are waiting in the wings.” “I been eyeballin' that chump on the far edge of the dance floor. He never goes out. Just hangs there tryin’ to look like he’s not watching someone.” Sonny followed Rico’s gaze. “Got him. Yeah, he ain’t the guy from the boat but he could be a cousin. And the way he’s standing? Military training. No civilian’s gonna be standing ‘at ease’ in a damned dance club.” “And there they are. You’d think their daddies could spring for new threads.” “Maybe they like the SS look, though I sure as hell can’t say much.” Sonny raised his hand, getting Hoffmann’s attention. “And it’s game on.” They were almost to the booth when Monaele stepped in front of Hoffmann and took the seat nearest to Rico. “You were right,” she said in a throaty voice that reminded Sonny of Marlene Dietrich. “This is a better club.” “She speaks.” Sonny chuckled and looked at Hoffmann. “Guess you’re just the public face, sport?” “Some of the Hispanics will not do business with a woman. So I act like it is my deal.” He nodded toward Rico. “We do not have those problems with Mr. Cooper.” Nodding, Rico turned his full attention to the girl. “See, the thing is my partners have been burned down here before. Coke deals that turned into busts or firefights. It took some convincing, and that product of yours, to bring ‘em around. But they aren’t convinced, and I’m not, either.” A confused look spread over her face. “But you have the product…” “I got one shipment. And not the quantity we’ll need on a regular basis. Like I mentioned on the boat, my people want steady, dependable supply. Something Miami ain’t had much of lately.” Sonny nodded. “He’s got a point, sister. Feds took down two big trafficking rings not too long back. Hell, they almost got me moving one of Cooper’s loads up past Lauderdale. It’s getting the product here, to Miami, that concerns me. After that, you just hand it off and count your money.” She nodded, and Sonny didn’t like what he saw in her eyes Then it was gone. “Our way is better. Slower but more secure. And proven. Not with drugs, but with other…products.” “Smugglers are a dime a dozen, sweetheart. Good ones, maybe a quarter a dozen. But my business is different. You get caught, Customs slaps you on the wrist. I get spotted, the Coast Guard tries to sink me and if I get caught it’s twenty years of Federal time.” Rico raised his hand. “We can discuss the finer points later. What my associates want to know is how much weight you can deliver, guaranteed, every month. They need at least a hundred kilos. Anything less and they look elsewhere.” She looked at Hoffmann. “We would need at least ninety thousand dollars a kilo.” “Try eighty. Max. Even product like yours ain’t worth what it was. Crack’s too damned cheap to make. But my people will pay extra for quality.” “One hundred kilos…” “My people know what they need to break even. That’s their figure. If you can’t do it, say so now and we’ll go our own ways with no hard feelings. But don’t try to change the terms later. That makes my people angry.” “And Cooper’s a damned good customer. Piss him off and I ain’t gonna take too kindly to it.” “We must talk.” She turned to Hoffmann and they started arguing in what sounded like German to Sonny. Languages had never been his strong suit, and he wished Trudy was at the table. Or Mindy. She seemed to know a couple different languages. And their body language gave nothing away. So he contented himself with watching the man lurking by the dance floor. His tight jacket couldn’t hide the bulk of an UZI, so at most he had a pistol. Looking back, he noticed the two had stopped talking and were turning back to Rico. He wasn’t disappointed. The music was giving him a headache. Dave Blair peered through the telescopic sight of his M-21 sniper rifle. The range was short enough he’d opted for speed over accuracy in case things went south tonight. And he was starting to appreciate his choice. His back was starting to tingle like spiders were dancing up and down his spine. “Range me.” “To the door? Two twenty five.” “Two twenty five.” Dave shifted his aim point a hair, compensating for range and elevation. “I got the spiders again.” “Shit.” Randy’s voice was matter-of-fact, and Dave knew his spotter had learned to trust the spiders long ago in Vietnam. “Anything?” “Not yet…” Dave shifted. “Wait. Got one, now two of those Columbians Sonny gave us pictures of. Moving for the door, and not going slow. Might be two more on the other side. I think they’re already in.” He spoke loud enough for the team in the Roach Coach to pick up every word. “The lead one on my side just pulled out a Tech 9.” Randy raised his binoculars. “Confirm the Tech 9. He just loaded it and is going for the doorman.” Castillo’s voice came through their earpieces. “Green light.” “Roger that.” Dave exhaled partway, letting the crosshairs settle on the base of the man’s neck. The backstop was shit, but it was either risk that or the chance the guy might get a burst off before he fell. The crosshairs held, and then the rifle drove itself back into the pocket of his shoulder. “Hit.” He was already tracking for the second man, who was frozen staring at the spray of blood fountaining from his partner’s body as it crashed to the ground. “Confirm. Cortex hit. He never got a shot off.” The rifle boomed again, and the second man spun away, a sawed-off shotgun skidding across the concrete as people stared screaming and running. “Hit.” “Confirm. Center mass. The two outside are down. No sign of the other two.” Inside the club the booming bass drowned out the rifle shots. The first Sonny knew of trouble was when Mindy raised her glass. He started scanning then, his hand going under his blazer from pure reflex, ignoring the looks on the faces of the Hitler Youth. He saw their security guy raise his hands in what looked like slow motion and stumble into couples on the dance floor. Then he saw the blood, turned black and a muddy brown by the strobing lights, and the dying man dragged a screaming girl down with him as he fell. Without conscious command his Smith & Wesson filled his hand, the big stainless steel pistol throwing little darts of light when the strobes caught it. “We got company!” he shouted, pushing past Hoffmann and taking scant cover behind the booth’s side wall. “You don’ cheat us, bitch! You an’ your fucking woman gonna die!” Hector Soldado, unmistakable in a light gray tux he might have stolen from Izzy’s dryer at the laundromat and his trademark flowing mustache, stepped out from behind a knot of confused bystanders,. He brandished what looked like a cut-down pump shotgun, and the guy beside him sported a nickel-plated .45. “No one sets up Hector Soldado!” “And no one interrupts Sonny Burnett’s deal, Hector. You got a death wish now?” Hector’s posture changed in an instant. “Burnett? You mixed up with those lying cunts? They set me up, mano! Sold me out to the damned cops.” “You were always a stupid shit, Hector. How do you know it was them?” “Because the cops knew! How many keys. Where they were. They knew it all. And now I kill me that bitch and maybe fuck the other one before I kill her, too.” “It don’t work like that, Hector. See, I don’t give a shit about those to, but I do care about the ongoing deal you’re about to fuck up.” Sonny smiled, feeling the rush of Burnett moving through his veins. He could feel the two Nazis staring at him, and didn’t care. This was his city. His moves. “So you can get the hell out or try your luck. But you ain’t got the stones to take a run at Sonny Burnett.” The club was almost clear now, screaming people flooding out the various exits like rats fleeing a sinking ship. He could sense Lester and Mindy by the bar, but so far they were staying back. Waiting in case they were needed. The DJ left the music running, and bass continued to thump a heartbeat behind the entire scene. Hector and his man stood on the dance floor, suddenly realizing they were alone. “Last chance, Hector. You were always a slow bitch, you know that?” “Fuck you, Burnett! I’ll show you slow!” The shotgun’s muzzle flash was a bright rocket in the dim club, and Sonny heard buckshot shredding the fake leather of the booth. But he’d counted on the sawed-off not having enough juice to reach this far, and he’d been right. One or two pellets might have scratched the skin on his forearm, but that was a small price to pay. Sensing his mistake, Hector bellowed something in Spanish and racked the shotgun. Sonny saw the smoking casing spin away and knew Hector would move to close the range. Bringing up his 4506-1, he squeezed off two shots, diving away as he saw Hector spin away clutching at himself. His shoulder jarred as he hit the hardwood dance floor, rolling up to his knees in time to see the second gunman starting to recover. Light flashed off nickel as the man brought up his own pistol and started trying to track Sonny’s movements. Two shots ended that effort, and he joined his boss in a spreading pool of what looked like black blood. Recovering, Sonny turned to see Rico covering the Hitler Youth with his Walther. “We’re getting the hell out of here and then you two are going to tell me what the hell he was talking about.” Rico’s voice was a hiss, and Sonny knew he was a pound of pressure away from pulling the trigger. “You got that right. I don’t know what the hell you two think you’re playing at, but here in Miami we sink rats in the canals.” Hiding their guns under their jackets, Rico and Sonny joined the flood of people outside. Monaele and Hoffmann looked straight ahead, but neither tried to bolt or break free. Sirens howled in the distance, getting closer with each passing heartbeat, and Sonny looked at Rico. “We’ll take their car. Mine’s a bit small.” He looked at Monaele with a smirk. “It’s a Mercedes, isn’t it?” “Yes. The red one by the light pole.” She reached into her pocket, and he shifted the pistol under his jacket. “You’ll need the keys. I doubt you’d want one of us driving.” “You got that right, sister.” Rico waited until Sonny slid into the driver’s seat before cracking Hoffmann sharply behind the ear with the butt of his Walther and stuffing the limp form in the back seat. “I doubt he’d have anything to tell us, anyhow. You’re the brains, right lady?” Sonny eased the big car into traffic, keeping away from the main roads until they were three miles away from Rumours. Monaele sat next to him, looking distinctly uncomfortable with Rico’s pistol tapping her on the ear from time to time. “Such a shame,” his partner joked after one particularly hard tap. “I liked that club.” Sonny had to admit she kept her cool. “Shall we talk now?” she finally asked when they were well clear of any wandering police. “Go ahead. I’m listening.” “I don’t know what that fool was talking about. We did do a deal with him, yes. For forty kilos. Maybe a bit less. It was all he could afford. He claimed he was brokering it for someone else. I do not know. I do know the night he did the deal he had five men with him. Maybe one of them, how did you say? Ratted him out?” “Or maybe you did.” Sonny shook his head, playing Burnett the diplomat. “But if she did, why not rat us out? Us and Biggs and his buddy? Or at least Biggs and Patch.” She nodded. “We have product we must sell. Why would I want to remove buyers?” “Maybe so you can control the price. Chumps new to the game think that way. They don’t get that for every load there’s always a swarm of buyers. Only known one or two cats who could corner a market, and that was because they had unique product you could only get from them. Your coke’s good, sister, but there’s other dudes moving flake in this town. Even primo Bolivian.” “How did Hector find us?” “Maybe he followed us from the marina. He did get a look at the boat, and she is hard to miss.” The girl smiled, and Sonny picked up the pride she had in her boat. “And we did not make the best choice with the car.” “For me this is just another night on the town, but Cooper here don’t like getting shot at. It harshes his mellow.” “What?” “It ruins my damned day, lady! That’s what.” Sonny grinned, changing course for one of the yacht clubs. Speaking for the benefit of the team in the Roach Coach, he said, “We’ll pick up your car at Downbeat, Cooper, and then turn this broad and her boy loose.” “You falling for their act?” “No. I’m falling for my cut of the deal. Maybe she did rat out Hector. Hell, it was about time someone did. But I plan on keeping her and her boy close during those deals, and if someone tries to rat me out I can guarantee who’s gonna get shot first.” She tuned to look back at Rico. “As a show of good faith, the first shipment will be seventy a kilo. Ten below your price. Think of it as compensation for your ruined evening.” As Sonny had hoped, the team had leapfrogged Rico’s Caddy to the parking lot of Downbeat, and they got out there. As the girl slid into the driver’s seat, Sonny leaned in and handed her a card. “Call that number when you’re ready to deal.” “But don’t take long! My people think they’ve wasted enough time in this damend town already.” “You will have arrangements for the first deal by tomorrow night.” The power window hissed up and she turned the Mercedes back toward the yacht clubs. Sonny raised his wrist. “If you can get a loose tail on her, do it.” Then he turned to Rico. “I don’t know about you, partner, but I could use a drink.”

She waited until he was gone before going back into the house and retrieving her Safari Arms MatchMaster. She didn’t want Marty to know, but after Jenny had killed the would-be assassin in her hospital room she never went out alone without the big .45. Even here, in Marty’s house, she didn’t feel quite safe when she was alone. It would pass, she knew, given time. But for now the pistol was a comfort she wasn’t willing to forego. Last night’s clouds were a distant memory, and looking up she could count the stars dancing in the sky. The glow of the city was an ever-present reminder, but it didn’t overwhelm everything like it had when she was growing up. Out here you could at least squint and pretend the city was nothing but a bad dream. There it had always been around you, sending its discordant noise through your ears and straight into your brain. Music had helped, and her painting added color to the drab grays around her. But it had only been later, when she’d been pushed out of school and into the Academy, that color came into her life and stayed there. Trudy smiled up at the clear sky, letting the pulse of the waves wrap itself around her. Soon she’d head back in and play the piano, sending notes floating out into the darkness. But for now she was just enjoying the peace and space that came with Marty’s home. She was still at the piano when he returned, working through the last section of what she called Jess and Andre’s suite. That night she’d heard the few elements it was lacking, and now she tried to add them in, adding notes to the cluttered sheet music propped up on the piano. She looked up and smiled, hoping he wouldn’t notice the pistol on the piano stool but knowing he already had. “How did it go?” “Like you’d expect. They can neither confirm nor deny, which means they had no idea about any planned coup and would rather see it not happen.” He smiled. “After Iran-Contra they’re a bit more cautious down there.” “I was just working on the suite. Adding a little bit to the end. It’s almost done now.” “Good. I’m looking forward to hearing it.” He sat down next to her, shifting the pistol. “I understand, my love. It takes time, but it does get better.” “But when I’m alone…” His eyes took on a distant quality. “In Laos I kept a .45 with me all the time. Even in camp. Maybe not in the shower because it would rust, but it was always close by. It was the same in Thailand later, and when I finally came back to the States it took me years to learn to go without it. But even now, when you’re still at work or out somewhere, I keep one close. It’s part of our world, my love.” “I never thought about it with the .38 I guess. It was so small I usually forgot I had in my purse or holster.” She smiled. “This baby’s more substantial.” He touched her cheek, and she felt a tingle running through her body. “I’d love it if you could play the new section for me. If you feel it’s ready.” “It was the waves.” She smiled, running her fingers along the cool ivory keys. “I didn’t have them quite right before, but something about tonight’s surf showed me the way.” Looking down at the scrawled notes, she let the idea flow through her and started to play. “So the Company denies all knowledge?” Rico snorted. “Sounds like Costa Morada all over again.” Sonny shook his head. “Not if it’s one of Marty’s contacts.” He turned to Castillo. “What’s your take? He’s your guy.” “I’ll know more after tonight. I have a meeting with a different source.” Castillo looked down. “But I believe him when he says he didn’t know anything about a coup. And Bolivia’s part of his turf.” “Is it worth reaching out to DEA? They still owe us, and I know those cats are connected down there.” Rico grinned. “I’ve got a buddy in the Miami office.” Sonny nodded. “It could be worth it. Unofficially, of course.” “Do it. Unofficially. If we confirm it with three sources…” “We’ve got an exclusive.” Sonny chuckled. “Now we just gotta stop it.” Castillo nodded. “Their coke will never hit our streets. What happens in Bolivia isn’t our concern. Their product is.” “Roger that, captain.” Sonny turned to Rico. “You reach out to your DEA guy and I’ll comb through the files one last time. We might have missed something.” He scratched his chin. “I might also hit up Izzy. Just to see if there’s any word on the street. Those two bozos have been rattling a lot of cages. Something might have fallen out.” As they walked out of Castillo’s office, Rico turned to Sonny. “I thought we were done with Moreno?” “We are. I just want to see if there’s any gossip out there the little twerp might have heard.” Sonny slapped Rico on the shoulder. “I’m not gonna ask him to look for anything. He’s paid his dues and then some as far as I’m concerned. But you know how he hears things. And he’s not gonna reach out if he doesn’t know what we’re looking for.” The breeze wafting off the ocean broke up some of the mid-morning heat, but Sonny was still glad he’d opted for the lighter colors instead of Burnett basic black. He still didn’t understand how Rico could roll around town dressed to the nines without dying of heat stroke. Parking the Ferrari, he headed for Izzy’s usual hunting grounds: the weekly-rate old hotels that still clung to life near the water. As developers stretched out their greedy fingers there were fewer and fewer of them to be found, but he knew if he found them, he’d find Izzy. He heard him before he saw him; a high, whining voice rising above the noise of traffic from the street. The voice sounded older now, more tired and a bit cracked, and for the first time Sonny wondered just what the hell would happen to Izzy when he got too old to hustle. And he had a new scam. “Gen’lemen! Are joo tired? Do joo worry about jore manhood when the poolboy comes by? Are jore bedroom mechanizations hampered by a certain downturn in jore fortunes? I, Count Moreno, have the answer joo seek. A formulation so ancient it is found in the bible itself. And so precious the luminations of the church had it removed and kept for their own pleasures. But I, Count Moreno, at great risk to my own humble personage, bring it to joo today.” Coming around the corner, he saw Izzy holding up what looked like a perfume bottle someone had spray-painted gold. But at least he’d cleaned his tux; it was close to white instead of its normal off-yellow color. Even the captain’s hat had been cleaned, and he’d added a couple of rows of braid to make himself look more like a ‘count’ than someone who’d been booted off the SS Minnow just before their three-hour tour. The crowd he’d gathered was smaller than usual, and his hand flourishes lacked some of their usual flair. Gathering himself, Izzy launched into the pitch again. “Joo may ask what is in thees miracle before joo? But I, Count Moreno, have been sworn to secrecy. But I can say it has the testicular excretions from the finest Pamploma bulls. The very sweat from the mighty orbs of the bulls ‘Emingway himself admired. An’ joo know if ‘Emingway is full of admiratioals it mus' be manly. Thees bottle is the key to boudoir pleasures beyond compare, both for joo an’ jore lady love.” Sonny did something he’d never done before. His hand shot up. “I’ll take one, count. If Hemingway swore by it that’s all I need to know. Is this why women loved Hemingway?” “Joo are brilliant, sir! One spritz of thees tonicals on jore manhood an’ the ladies will flock to joo like a spell has been cast on their nether regionals.” Digging into his pocket, Sonny pulled out a hundred dollar bill. “Is this enough? It’s all I brought.” Izzy’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Joo will be completely satisfied, my fren’. As will all the ladies of jore apprenticeship.” Dropping the bottle into his blazer pocket, Sonny handed Izzy the hundred. “Take a break, count. I got a quick question for you.” “Don’t go away! The count shall return!” Izzy waved in what he assumed was regal fashion and turned back to Sonny. “What do joo want, Crockett? Thees entrepreneurial stuff isn’t what it used to be, joo know. Damn, I miss Reagan! Now they wan’ twenty dollars a pair for those choose. Pushes them out of my price range.” Sonny grinned and slipped Izzy another hundred. “I don’t want anything, Moreno. Just some information. You still use those ears for more than holding up that hat, don’t you?” Izzy nodded. “Joo know I do, Crockett. The competition is vicious in the male enhancement business.” “I’m sure it is. But have you heard anything about a crew looking for payback on some smugglers? Guy and a girl. They’ve been dropping dimes on people after they deliver the goods.” “Ohhhh…I did hear some talk of those two.” Izzy scratched the back of his head under the hat, pushing the brim almost over his eyes. “Word’s out not to deal with them. An’ I did hear some dudes might be looking for a refund. Some nasty Columbian dudes. But I…” “I don’t need names, Izzy. You told me just what I needed to know.” Sonny pulled out the final hundred. “Don’t spend it all in one place, ok?” He looked down at the little man, seeing the age in his face for what might have been the first time. “Take care of yourself, Izzy, ok? The streets are nastier than they used to be. You and Manny need to get real jobs, or just lay low and work your uncle’s track. You need anything, you know how to reach me or Tubbs.” Izzy looked from the crumpled bills to Sonny’s face and back again. “Joo know, I might just do that. Thanks, Sonny.” As soon as he was back by the Ferrari, Sonny fished the bottle out of his pocket and tossed it into a nearby trash can. Izzy had confirmed what he suspected was happening: the street had identified what it saw as a threat and someone was moving to settle the score. He’d figure out from the reports which Columbians might be involved and go from there. As he drove back to Task Force headquarters, Sonny kept coming back to Izzy. He hadn’t been kidding with his warning, and he hoped the little CI was serious about what he’d said. He’d had his run, and even though it pained him Sonny had to admit he’d been a solid informant on more than a few occasions. But his time was over. The latest crop of dealers reminded him more of the kids they’d chased back when he was seeing Brenda. Vicious little bastards with automatic weapons and no concern about who they used them on. And as they squabbled over turf, the chance Izzy would get caught in the crossfire rose exponentially. Plus he felt guilty. Both about the number of times he’d thrown the guy into danger and for not being around to help Noogie before he’d ODd. Things that wouldn’t have bothered the old Sonny but now gave him pause. None of it would undo what he’d done, but it might keep the mistake from being repeated. Rico looked up when he walked in. “Izzy have anything good to say?” “Yeah.” Sonny filled him in. “So I’m gonna check those arrest reports again and look for Columbians.” He shook his head. “You shoulda seen him, Rico. Trying to sell perfume in gold-painted bottles as some kind of male enhancement tonic. He needs to get off the street before some of those sharks have him for a snack.” “Sounds like you feel sorry for the little chump.” “Maybe I do. Hell, we risked his neck often enough.” “Yeah, I guess we did at that. And he was always loyal, at least as loyal as Izzy could be to anything. If he’s smart he’ll go get some gig with that uncle of his and get the hell off the streets.” “That’s what I told him, too.” Shaking his head, Sonny reached out for the stack of arrest files. “Now I’d better start digging through this shit and see if I can find any mystery Columbians.” “The challenge might be finding some who aren’t Columbians.” Rico chuckled. “Naw, I know. It ain’t that simple these days. Never was, really.” “And don’t forget these are middlemen. Lots of home-grown talent in there. I think…” He paused, running his finger down one of the reports. “Hell! Izzy might have been onto something! The second bunch they ratted out was a crew run by Hector Soldado. Him, two of his cousins, and someone he knew from the old days according to the interrogation report. They got picked up with ten keys, and made bail inside of forty-eight hours.” “And I’ll bet Hector wasn’t pleased about his accommodations.” “Not so much. And he’s been around long enough to be connected. Says here his first arrest was back in ’85 by…” Sonny stopped, his heart skipping a beat. “Eddie Ruiz.” “Your old partner?” “Yeah. The one Calderone blew up.” Sonny leaned back in his chair. “Man, I haven’t thought of him in years. And I think I remember the kid. Skinny little punk with an attitude almost as big as his hair. I wasn’t in on the bust; I was still trying to make nice with Corky Fowler. Eddie was standing in for someone else and working with a team out of South Beach. Kid had nasty eyes even back then.” “And you’re sure he never saw you?” “Yeah. I was behind the glass during the interview. Just happened to wander by and Eddie asked me what I thought of the kid. Turns out it didn’t matter. South Beach screwed up the arrest. Forgot to read him his rights or some shit. And Eddie got killed like five days later.” He looked at the report again, trying to make sense of the feelings it stirred up. “I figured the little shit would have been dead for years by now.” Rico nodded. “If it don’t kill them it makes them meaner. Maybe that’s why he never moved far up the food chain.” “That and the wrong relations. As in no connected relations.” He pulled booking photos out of the file. “I’m gonna get copies of these to Team Elvis. I want their faces engraved on their memories for the meet. Just in case our boys manage to find the Hitler Youth at the same time we meet them.” Rico nodded, looking at his watch. “I gotta jet, partner. Meeting my DEA guy for lunch and a quick word. With any luck we’ll be able to move on those two come tomorrow.” He paused. “Did you find out where Jenny was the other night?” “Yeah, and you ain’t gonna believe this.” He told Rico about her trust fund decision. “Shit. That’s a nice chunk of change. And you say she’s got it planned for?” “Down to the last damned penny. She may act like some gypsy hippie, but that girl’s a whiz when it comes to business stuff. Between her and Angie Caitlin’s House is gonna be around for years to come. And I think she’s kinda made peace with Gina.” “Good to know. I’ll see you later, partner.” Sonny nodded, his attention slipping back to the reports again. And the memories they contained. How had he let Eddie slip from his memory? They’d been partners for close to two years, starting just before Scott Wheeler left for the DEA. Not all their busts had been huge, but they’d put together a solid track record, him playing the fast-talking boat guy and Eddie the sometimes sharp, sometimes babe-in-the-woods buyer. And then it all vanished in an instant. In so many ways it was a different time. And he was a different person then. He knew it now, looking back with the advantage of hindsight and the events that had propelled him into Burnett’s dark embrace. He’d done what he could to atone for those past sins, from paying for Stan and Gina’s wedding to making sure Billy would never want for college tuition. But he knew there were some things that could never be undone. Eddie was one of them. Caitlin was another. Sighing, he looked out the window at the clear blue sky and the sun blazing hot overhead. He could imagine the heat rippling off the pavement, and all the stakeouts he’d pulled over the years, sunglasses down against the glare, just waiting for a breeze or the coming of evening so the sun wasn’t as punishing. Vietnam had been a harsh teacher in patience, and he wished he hadn’t tried so hard to unlearn those lessons. He could hear the team beyond his partly-closed door; the easy banter as they compared notes and planned for possible contingencies. Stan’s voice, growing more and more sure by the day, mixed with Dave and Randy’s as the three went over a possible overwatch operation to draw in the FBI. From time to time Lester stuck a comment in, and Sonny smiled. He was coming along, too, drawn on by Stan and his jovial but firm leadership. And the higher notes of Mindy and Trudy comparing notes as they put together a profile of the two Bolivians and dissected their motives. He’d never known two smarter people, male or female, and watching them work was a joy. What if this was their last time out as a team? It was something he didn’t want to consider, but knew it was a possibility if Pete was reassigned and Castillo put in his papers. He’d never worked with a team this strong, not even at OCB in its heyday. Hell, the Task Force had accomplished more in a month than OCB did in some years. Looking down, he saw the pictures scattered on his desk and got to his feet. They wouldn’t walk themselves out there, and he needed to move before his brain bogged down in a swamp of its own making. “Guys, I’ll need you to watch for these bozos when we have the meet with our two Hitler Youth…” It was late afternoon before Ricardo Tubbs rolled the big Caddy back into the underground garage. The first thing he noticed was the lot across the street was missing a couple of tan Fords. Upstairs, Sonny confirmed it with a smile. “Marty just got off the phone with Pete. The AUSA issued warrants for a whole slew of the Double Treys. Including our old friend Double G. And then handed them to the FBI. Their SAC tried to weasel out of it, and had his ass handed to him by the AUSA. So our friends from Sears pulled out half an hour ago.” “Solid.” Rico grinned, following Sonny into the conference room. “So we’re done with those chumps?” “Maybe.” Castillo sat the table, his face expressionless. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Overton tried to ignore at least part of his orders. Be on your guard. If any of his people show up, I want to know immediately.” “You got it. And my friend from the DEA confirmed that they don’t know a damned thing about any coup in Bolivia. They’ve been watching cocaine production like a hawk, and they know Herrmann senior damned well. Nothing on the kid, though. The dad has ties with the Bolivian army, but not the politicians.” Rico grinned. “He wanted to know why I was curious and I said I was thinking about a vacation down there.” “So two confirmed. All we need’s the third.” “Tonight.” Castillo looked from Sonny to Rico. “I’ll know for certain tonight. We should go ahead and make contact tonight. I don’t want any delay.” Rico nodded. “I’ll get on marine band tonight and make the call. Stan, you want to start planning the support with Team Elvis?” Switek nodded. “Already started, Rico. Randy and Dave have a good overwatch position about two hundred yards from the club.” “Point blank range.” Dave’s smile wasn’t pretty. “And we can see both the front and back entrances. As close to full coverage as you’ll get down in that part of town.” “We might try to get someone inside, too.” Stan grinned. “I was thinking Lester and maybe Mindy.” “Lester?” Rico shook his head. “Hey, man! I can dance better than anyone in this room. You included, Rico. And you wouldn’t know techno if it bit you on the ass.” Lester grinned. “I’ve been into that stuff for years, going back to KLF and Phuture before them.” Rico raised his hands. “Ok! Ok! But are you ready to come outa the Roach Coach?” Stan bristled. “I think he is.” “Cool. But the beard, man…” “You got one, right? Besides, they’ve seen me in there before. Every Thursday night. House night. I own that place, man. But they know me as Terry. Been working on my cover in case you needed me in the field.” Rico raised his hands again. “I give! You guys got me. And with this new intel from Izzy it might not be a bad idea to have some eyes on the inside. Just in case.” “Ok.” Sonny took control of the meeting after a nod from Castillo. “We send Lester and Mindy in at least half an hour before the meeting goes down. Dave and Randy can set up shop whenever works best for the terrain and lighting. Stan, I take it you’ll be controlling from the Roach Coach? Cool. Rico and I will go in maybe five minutes at the most before the meeting. We won’t have comms. Too risky. But Mindy can signal us when you see the targets coming in.” Rico nodded. “And if you see any hostiles, Lester should be the one signaling. That way it’s simple.” Sonny nodded his agreement. “Anything I missed? No? Let’s go through the equipment, then. Lester, you might want to hit the range with Stan and the rest of Team Elvis tomorrow. Just in case.” Rico watched the team break into its little two-person elements as people went back to their offices to sort through what they’d need for the operation tomorrow. Shaking his head, he followed Sonny into the office. “I ain’t so sure about Lester with a gun.” “Yeah, but if Stan thinks he’s ready we gotta give him a chance. I’m not gonna undercut Stan like that.” “I get it. It’s just one of those things I gotta take some time wrapping my head around. Like do you really think that bunch of Columbians are gonna try to square things with our Ken and Barbie couple?” “I don’t know, Rico. But if they’re out on that boat, the only time they’d really be vulnerable is when they come ashore to meet people like us. And they’ve got security. We saw the guy with the UZI and I’ll bet there are more like him on that boat. So that leaves…” “I know. When they come ashore to meet us. Damn. I thought we were done walkin' around with targets on our backs.” Rico chuckled as he sat down. “All I know is Lester better keep his hands to himself.” “I don’t know, Rico. He’s got a better beard, and if he can dance…” “Now you just hush.” He laughed. In truth he wasn’t worried about Lester with Mindy. He was more worried about her getting hit if there was any kind of gunplay. The rational part of his mind knew she could take care of herself. Hell, she’d done more than that at the shootout at Moncado’s villa in the Keys. But things were different then. He hadn’t been falling in love with her. Looking over, he saw Sonny studying him. “It’s happening for you, too, isn’t it?” Rico knew exactly what he meant. “Yeah, I think it is. Not quite how I’d planned it…” “It never is, Rico. I told you she just showed up on the dock with a six pack, right? Yeah…the good ones never start how you plan. Hell, Caroline was storybook wedding, all that shit. And look how it ended.” “Yeah. Valerie started that way, too. And Angelina…” “That’s one better left buried, partner. And at least you know the family paid for what they did.” “Yeah.” Rico still heard Maynard’s nasal voice on that tape giving the order in his dreams. He usually woke up smiling. “I guess I owe that conniving bastard thanks for that.” “Funny how it works sometimes in our world, ain’t it?” Sonny grinned and changed the subject. “You given any more thought to Casa Cooper?” “Yeah. I’ll do it, Sonny. Hell, I gotta start planning for the future now. Just in case…” “Yeah. We got lots of just in cases goin’ right now. Just let me know how much and when you need it and you’ll be set. That way if you and Mindy keep goin’ the way you’re going you’ll have someplace to stay. At the rate they’re tearing down those old extended stay places along the beach you’d be sharing a cardboard box with the winos.” “Speaking of which, I think we’re gonna hit Downbeat again tonight. You and Jenny want to come?” “Naw. I appreciate the offer, but we got some stuff to go over for Caitlin’s House. That and I want to see if she can tell me anything else about Monaele Jankow. I can’t stop thinking we’re missing a piece with her.” “Yeah. I get the same vibe. He’s easy. A kid fronting for daddy’s business. But there’s something missing with her. How much do we know about her family?” “Just what we got from the Customs and DEA stuff, so approximately squat. And I don’t like that. But the fathers were both in Nazi-occupied Poland.” “Yeah, but what did they do there? We know his father was some kind of Nazi Party boss. But what did hers do?” “I’ll go sic Mindy on that and see if she can turn anything up. I think we’ve got computer access to Interpol now. Stan was muttering something about that while you were out meeting your DEA buddy.” “Cool. Then I think we’re out.” For a change it was still light when Sonny pulled into his usual spot in the marina lot. Jenny was on the foredeck looking through a binder stuffed with papers, a long white t-shirt only just covering her backside. She looked up and smiled when she saw him. “You’re home early.” “Yeah. Long day tomorrow so Marty cut everyone loose early.” He nodded toward the binder. “Doing some light reading?” She looked at the notebook and giggled. “No, silly. Going back through the plan for the renovations. I found a couple of double-charges. Angie’s gonna be pissed.” “Are you sure you never went to business school?” He stepped around the mast and kissed her on the forehead. “Yes, silly. But I did run my own business for a few years.” She smiled. “At least I guess you could call it a business.” “You certainly could. And I’m glad you decided to help with this one. Numbers and I just don’t get along.” “But you know people. I either hate them all or trust them all. Angie will need your help with the staff. Gina means well, but…” “She always sees the best in people. It got her burned more than once as a cop, I hate to say. And by me when I was still an asshole. And I hate to say that even more.” “And that’s good when she’s working with the girls. They need someone like that. But you need to make sure the wrong people don’t get close to them.” She took his hand. “Promise me?” “Of course, darlin’. How soon are they going to start taking applications?” “In three weeks. The crews will be done by then, and Vellamo will be ready to set sail. Angie’s working with some of the people in Gina’s unit now. Getting names, I think.” Sonny nodded. He was glad to see her so involved, but he was also trying to figure out how to steer the conversation to Monaele. And she was so focused now he didn’t want to disturb a thing. “Good. I’ll do what I can as soon as they know who they want to interview.” “And you want to ask me about her again, don’t you?” How the hell… “Yeah, I do. If that’s ok.” “Sure.” She sat up, letting the t-shirt pull tight across her firm breasts. “I’ve been thinking about her. What I know. It’s not much. She didn’t talk much about herself. More about her father than anything. How he’d sent her out to learn how to…to do what we did. He bought her the boat and all that.” “Did she ever say why?” “No. I thought it was silly. I did it because it was fun, and because I wanted to do something on my own without daddy’s money or anything. I had this little boat I’d saved up for, and she was running about with a big sixty footer she could barely handle on her own.” “You’re sure she never said anything? Not even a joke?” “No. She got worse once he showed up. The guy who likes guys. The son of a friend of her father’s, I think. He liked to flash money around, and it made her mad. But that’s when she started taking on bigger and bigger jobs. I got away from them then. She might have been a rich girl doing it for fun, but I was trying to make a living, and you can’t do that in a jail cell in Bermuda.” “No.” Sonny chuckled. “No, you can’t. I’m sorry to keep bugging you about her.” “You’re meeting them again tomorrow, aren’t you?” “Yeah. We want to get enough to make sure they go down for a long time.” “Good.” She looked down at the papers. “I don’t want to hear her on the radio again.” “You won’t darlin’. You have my word on that. Now let’s go below and I’ll see about making us some dinner. Then maybe we can take the Scarab out on the water.” “That would be nice. I’d rather take the Dance, though.” “Maybe once this case is over I’ll take a couple of days and we can just sail out wherever we want.” Sonny smiled. The idea felt good. “Yeah, I’ll do that. I’ve got time coming and then some. It’ll be good to get away. We can look over the stuff for Caitlin’s House and just be together.” “I’d like that.” She got to her feet, looking suddenly vulnerable and alone. “Sonny…don’t underestimate her. Please. There’s something about her. I could never touch it, but it was there. She’s evil. Don’t let her fool you. Or any of the others.” “We won’t, Jenny. I promise. Now let’s get below and eat so we can get to sea in time to see the sunset.” He smiled, but inside a little seed of worry took root. She was afraid of Monaele. He’d felt it before but now he was sure. And that seed also nestled next to a growing kernel of anger. Not Rico’s kind of blazing outburst, or even his old Sonny tantrums. But a cold, steady Burnett anger. He wasn’t sure what he’d do when they met Monaele and Hoffmann tomorrow night. But he knew if they tried anything funny Burnett would come on full force. And they weren’t ready for that, no matter how bad-ass they thought they were.

Martin Castillo looked up at the assembled team. “How did last night’s meet go?” Sonny cleared his throat. “No problems, captain. We have the cocaine secured, and comms are set for arranging the next deal. We control the timeline, at least for the coming week.” “And their MO?” “Unchanged as far as we can tell. They’re using a sailboat as the mother ship. Randy couldn’t see a name or hull numbers, but it’s twin mast and somewhere between fifty and sixty feet. A good sized boat and can carry the Zodiac they used without attracting any attention.” Castillo nodded, sorting the information in his head. “Continue with the operation. Use their comm method to get back in touch with them in two days.” Rico nodded. “That’s solid, captain. It would take Cooper that long to get the product north and make his ‘consultations’ with those New York associates.” Nodding, Castillo opened his small notebook. “The meeting with Chief Deputy Washington was productive. He thinks he’s got a line on where the FBI got their warrants. Someone in the AUSA’s office in New York of all places. It seems SAC Overton has connections there.” “Can he block them?” “He’s working on getting it overturned. The AUSA in Miami was not pleased when he learned about it.” Castillo smiled, remembering Pete’s exact words. “So while the two AUSAs are fighting it out, we need to carry on with normal operations.” He closed the notebook. “I would like some ideas about dealing with our friends outside, though.” “We were talking about that on the way back in.” Sonny repeated their sketch plan. “Trudy, Mindy. Is the product from Delgado’s office finished yet?” “Yes.” Trudy smiled. “Gina and Mindy did great work on that while I was out. We just had to polish it up a bit. I think there’s enough in there for the AUSA to issue some warrants for Double G and a few others in the gang hierarchy.” Castillo nodded. “What about RICO and crossing state lines?” “Delgado was thorough. He must have wanted to have ammunition in case Double G turned on him.” Trudy rubbed her chin, and Castillo knew the tic meant she was thinking hard. “He did document some deals that crossed state lines. Mostly Red Cross heroin, and each time they did he cut back on the supply. But he did trace two shipments to Atlanta.” She shook her head. “And with crack you’d need to reach out to Metro-Dade.” “Send copies of what we have to Chief Deputy Washington.” Castillo looked around the table. “If it’s enough, the AUSA will issue warrants within the day. Until then, keep tracking the surveillance teams across the street. We introduced them to the target area, now maybe we can give them something to chase there.” Mindy got up. “I’ll run the files over. I need to pick some stuff up from the office anyhow. And maybe Interpol came back with something on our mystery girl. I put the request through those channels to cover our tracks.” “That’s all, people.” Castillo pushed back from the table. “Crockett, Tubbs. My office.” Sitting behind his desk, Castillo took a moment to gather his thoughts. “We talked about more than the FBI at the meeting yesterday. Joplin and O’Laughlin were excused for part of it. Pete is being reassigned in the next few months. Promoted, actually. He’s not happy about it, and neither am I. It puts the future of the Task Force in question.” Sonny frowned. “How’s that? We get results. More than any unit of twice our size.” “I know. But there’s no guarantee the next Chief Deputy will see it that way. And there’s always the chance Metro-Dade might push for our reassignment. Pete has a good relationship with the command structure. The next man may not, and my understanding is there’s some jealousy about our successes.” Rico nodded. “And with OCB falling in on itself they might want to stick some of us back there. Or spread us around because of our rank.” Castillo nodded. “I just wanted you to be aware. For what it’s worth the AUSA is on our side. DEA seems to be as well, at least as long as we keep making them look good. But it’s the Marshal’s Service that controls the purse strings, and if they pull them back…” “We’re done.” Sonny’s face shifted, and Castillo could see the anger in his eyes. “Hell, this is why we left in the first place. Damned bureaucratic bullshit.” “This stays between us for now. Keep doing your jobs and take these two down. I don’t know what’s behind them, and that worries me.” Nodding, Sonny refocused on the job. “Me, too, Marty. The damned why keeps hanging just out of reach.” Rico nodded. “Could she be after Jenny and that’s driving it?” “No, I think that’s a bonus. Something she tripped onto and decided to take care of while she was in the area. There’s something else going on. Maybe it’s just daddy wanting a secure market for his product. The kid seems like a control freak, and I’ll bet he got that from dear old dad. But it just feels like there’s more.” “Why does he need a secure market?” Castillo rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. A headache was threatening, and he wanted to head it off. “Why should it matter so much to him?” Sonny got up. “I’m gonna go back through those files we got. See if there’s anything there. I know he got damned excited at the idea of having a steady volume customer.” “And there was no tip-off call about the deal?” “Not that we heard of. But if their goal was a steady customer, they wouldn’t want to ruin that by having half of the deal get busted. We did play up that Burnett and Biggs knew each other, and the guy was definitely aware of Burnett’s reputation.” Sonny chuckled. “I don’t think he’d risk it.” “Yeah, and I stressed that only Burnett moved my product out of Miami.” “Good. Stay on it.” Once the two left, Castillo leaned back in his desk chair. He hadn’t told them everything about the meeting with Pete, only the part that concerned them. It was something he’d been kicking around ever since the wedding. Ever since his life felt complete. If Pete Washington left, he was putting in his papers. He’d started over enough times in his life, and didn’t feel like doing it again. Pete had understood. “Hell, might do that myself if they’re serious about this,” he’d said. They’d met in the back room of a steakhouse close to the Federal building. A relic from days gone by, it still had private dining rooms. The two girls had excused themselves to the bar after the meal, leaving the two men to talk. After the freedom of the Task Force, Castillo knew he couldn’t go back to Metro-Dade. And as a captain he’d be stuck in more of a supervisor role in any case. And OCB as far as he could tell was beyond saving. The Homicide lieutenant they’d put in charge was incompetent at best. No, he wouldn’t waste his time trying to rebuild something that was beyond repair. But he didn’t want to influence the others this early. Both Crockett and Tubbs had good years left in them, and both had grown into formidable leaders, but with different abilities. Switek and Franz were both stellar detectives, with Stan in particular showing a great deal of command promise. He planned on recommending him for merit promotion if he put in his papers. It was the marshals he worried about the most. Mather and Blair would grumble but survive in one of the tactical units, though they’d both shown great potential beyond that. And O’Laughlin…she was wasted in a place that didn’t value what she did and only remembered her for being taken in by someone who should have been fired for misconduct. Looking out the window, Castillo had to acknowledge that the Task Force had become a family. Dissolving it would be hard for everyone. He’d already made his choice, and he knew Trudy would likely follow. She had good years left as well, and would make a fine commander in any unit she moved to, but he also knew she valued their time more than she did the Job. No, if he left, she’d be right behind him. And neither would regret the choice for a moment. Still, it would be hard. This was the best team he’d ever had, even better than the one that had been wiped out in Laos. Jess, Gus, Ti Ti and the rest were solid, but this unit took it to a new level. He’d walk away and leave it behind, for Trudy as much as himself, but he never kidded himself it would be easy. But that was a problem for another day. He knew Pete still had a few tricks up his sleeve and favors he could call in. And so long as Pete Washington was Chief Deputy the Task Force would continue running. Still, he had to smile. For the first time in years Martin Castillo knew what his future held. And it was good no matter what happened. Sonny flipped through the last pages of the file again, paying close attention to a series of highlighted paragraphs. It was starting to make sense in his head, though he didn’t like where it was leading. He went through it again, but couldn’t find any holes in his reasoning. Looking up, he caught Rico’s eye. “Take a look through this, partner. I think I found their damned why, and it’s a big one.” Rico scanned the highlighted passages. “So daddy’s into Bolivian politics. So what?” “But look at what kind of politics. Reminds me of our dear no-so-lamented colonel.” Sonny shook his head. “I think our boy’s out here helping daddy fund a coup.” “If that’s the case why hasn’t the Company put in a guest appearance yet? Usually those chumps are all over that kind of crap.” “Yeah. Unless it doesn’t fit their interests. Backing the army I can see. A bunch of old Nazis and wanna-be Nazis not so much. This ain’t Chile.” “Yeah. And with the new guy in the White House they are keepin’ a lower profile.” Rico looked up from the folder. “But if you’re right…” “We gotta shut this guy down.” Sonny smiled. “And now I got my why.” “But we know the kid ain’t hard-core. Why would he deal with a brother if he was?” “Expediency.” Sonny grinned. “Yeah, I learned a new word. Sue me. Anyhow, for what daddy wants I’ll bet they’ll take cash wherever they can get it. And it’s all green as far as they’re concerned. Besides, you’re here and not in Bolivia.” “True. But what does the reason tell us?” “That he’ll boost the weight as far as daddy can handle. Maybe past that if he thinks it will help the cause. And if the girl’s doing it for the money she won’t be opposed because more weight means more cash for her.” “But if her family’s loaded why would she care?” “It’s like that bastard banker we met in New York City, Rico. Why stop with a million when you can have two? Or ten?” “You think that chump’s even still alive? He was like a hundred when we ran into him.” “If he’s dead there were ten bozos lined up to take his place. And all trails end in the islands or Switzerland. Hell, we couldn’t even follow Moncado’s dirty money past some shell banks in Bermuda and the Caymans.” “Couldn’t or Treasury wouldn’t.” “Same result either way. But this…this is big. We might not have been able to do shit in Costa Morada, but we can stop this one from happening.” “You gonna brief Castillo?” “Not yet. I want her file to wrap it up neat. We’ve got nothing on this Jankow family yet. I’d like to be able to connect them somehow. I don’t think she’s just transportation. That may be part of her role, but why have her at every meeting if that’s all she’s doing?” “Maybe it’s an art smuggler thing.” “Could be. But I’d rather rule other stuff out first. If you see Mindy before I do, see if they had that Interpol data in.” “So when do we reach back out to them?” “Castillo had it right. A couple of days. That’ll give Pete time to try to get those assholes off our front porch. And make it look like you had some arm-twisting to do in NYC. That could factor into our plan.” Sonny could feel the gears turning in his head as the problem started sorting itself out. Rico got up and shut the office door. “And the other part?” “What other part?” “If Pete’s reassigned.” “I don’t even want to think about that, partner.” “But we don’t have a choice, partner.” Sighing, Sonny looked down. “No, we don’t, do we? Shit…I don’t know. I can’t see Marty going back to Metro-Dade. Not after he’s been able to call his own shots. And me? Hell, I don’t know if I’d want to. Can you imagine going from this to Robbery?” “And dealing with some chump who got promoted based on who he blows and not what he knows? Count me out.” Rico’s eyes were bright. “I walked away once. From two damned places. I can do it again. But this time it’s on my terms.” Sonny nodded. “Yeah. I hear you. I just wish it didn’t feel like I was ten years old and someone took my favorite toy away.” “There is that. But hell, man. We’re both lieutenants now. They ain’t gonna let us work the streets if we go back to Metro-Dade. That means a desk job. And I don’t know about you, but I can’t go back to OCB after this. Not after the whole thing with Gorman. And what else is there? They’ve run Narcotics into the ground. Homicide’s a dumping ground for chumps and suckers. Don’t even get me started about Robbery.” “Yeah. And I feel more for the others. Stan and Lester could start their own business tomorrow doing what the bozo Duddy did and make a killing. But the deputies? Hell, now that they’ve had a taste of this how do they go back?” “Dave and Randy will do fine. Hell, I think those two would land on their feet if you dropped them in the middle of the desert with a teaspoon. But Mindy? I worry about her.” “I don’t blame you, pal. She’s a special lady. And she’s come into her own here.” Sonny shook his head. “But my grandma always said don’t borrow trouble you don’t have yet. Let’s get this damned thing solved first.” “Yeah. My grandma said the same damned thing. Usually before she smacked me upside the head for doing something stupid.” Rico smiled. “But yeah, let’s get this thing handled. If you’re right we don’t dare miss. Those two can disappear in a heartbeat and pop up somewhere else with the same game.” “Yeah. And she’s after Jenny. I’m not gonna make that same mistake, Rico. It’s not gonna happen.” Sonny’s eyes went cold, and he knew his partner knew exactly what he was talking about. The Burnett side was whispering in his ear you let Hackman go too long, asshole. Don’t make the same mistake twice. And he knew he wouldn’t. Mindy got back just before two, and Sonny met her at the door. “Did they get you anything from Interpol?” “Yes, Sonny. Hold your water! It’s right here.” She dug into her soft side briefcase and pulled out a folder. “Get it back to me when you’re done, ok? I want to run through it again.” “No problem. I just need to check a couple of things.” Opening the folder, Sonny flipped through the clipped pages until he came to what we wanted. “Yep. Got you, bitch.” He closed the folder and handed it back. “That was all I needed, darlin’. Now you can work your magic.” Rico appeared in the office doorway. “Find what you were lookin’ for?” “Yeah. Turns out her daddy served with his daddy in occupied Poland. You know; families that kill together chill together. They were in Argentina first, then headed for Bolivia about five years ago. About the time Jenny would have met Monaele on the smuggling circuit.” “Any clue why they moved?” “No, but I’d guess some kind of political wind change had something to do with it. Wouldn’t bother their money. It’s all stashed in Switzerland.” Sonny shook his head. “It pays to be neutral, I guess.” “We going to Castillo?” “Yeah. I think we need to.” Castillo looked down at his hands. “You’re sure about this?” “As sure as I can be with the information we have, captain.” Rico spoke up. “He had me go through it, too. It makes sense, especially given what we know of the father’s contacts in Bolivia. But we don’t have a good way to check.” Castillo was silent for a time, and Sonny started to worry he’d found a hole in the logic. Then he looked up. “Let me make a couple of calls. Not from here, though. I have ways to check the information. Don’t do anything until you hear from me. It should be tomorrow, the next day at the latest. Some of these people can be…difficult to contact.” “We’ll hold off, Marty. I may start making some plans, though.” “Good. Just hold on execution until I give the ok.” Back in the conference room, Rico turned to Sonny and grinned. “Ten to one he’s calling old fiends.” “Only suckers and Izzy take that bet, partner. But he’ll check his spook sources and see what they have to say. And I’ll bet he gives us the green light no matter what they say.” “Yeah, but we wait just the same.” Back in the office, Sonny stared at the folder on his desk. His mind sorting back through what he’d read in the one on the girl. Both of them had been active in right-wing causes in Bolivia before disappearing overseas, but he seemed to have kept a lower profile. Why? Who had he been meeting with? Clearly not anyone involved in the narcotics trade given their fumbling once they’d shifted down to Miami from Lauderdale. But what was up there to hold his interest? The girl had obviously been working on her smuggling chops, but he was a mystery. Sonny reached for the phone and selected one of Stan’s ghost lines. Dialing the number, he waited for the man to answer. “Atkins? Yeah, it’s me again. Look, I got a name for you. Two of ‘em, actually. Hoffmann and Jankow. They ring any bells?” There was a pause. “Two blondies? Always overdressed?” “Yeah. Sounds like you know ‘em.” “Only by reputation. And yeah, they aren’t into narcotics. At least not that we know.” “How’d you come across them?” “Stolen paintings, if you can believe it. But old ones. Like from World War II. We’ve got a strong Jewish community up here, and we started getting reports that some couple was trying to unload paintings that had been looted from a gallery in Warsaw. We don’t have the resources to chase that stuff too far, but we did get their last names from one of the potential buyers who backed out as soon as he learned where the paintings came from.” “Really?” “Yeah. Some of these art dealers have consciences. Or they’re afraid of Federal prison. We looked around a bit, but never got more than the last names and general descriptions.” Sonny heard pages turning. “Oh, and some ties to the remains of an arms ring I think your boys took down. Guy calling himself Holmes.” “Yeah. He’s dead now.” “That’s what I thought. Anyhow, they popped up trying to buy M-16s from one of his boys up here. We turned it over to ATF and then they had that whole firefight down in your neck of the woods. Sorry, that’s all I got.” “Thanks, man. It actually tied some things up for us. I owe you dinner if you get down this way.” “From the look on your face you’ve got good news.” “Some.” Sonny filled Rico in. “So they tried paintings before they got too hot. And somehow I ain’t surprised our old friend Holmes popped up. He had a soft spot for the Nazis I think.” “So they got M-16s in addition to the UZIs we saw. That’s some serious firepower.” “Unless they sent ‘em back to their dear old daddies. Which I think is more likely. Good old Mao and his power from the barrel of a gun line. That and it’s damned hard to use an M-16 on a boat. The Germans are practical if nothing else.” “So we got money and guns. You figure they got the manpower down there?” “Some of it, sure. You know how it is. Your coup fails here, you pull up anchor and head for the next two-bit tyrant’s place of business and wait. But they’re after more money. Means they either way to bribe the hell out of someone or they need better talent than what they can get locally.” Mindy knocked on the door before sticking her head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m done with the file. It’s yours if you need it.” “Thanks.” Sonny smiled and waved her in. “What did you two get out of it?” “The kids are out raising money for the dads. And in a big way. He looks to have been knocking around most of the Caribbean doing some talent-scouting while she was learning the tricks of the smuggling trade. Looks like her main boat’s been a Moorings 60. Twin masts, and they can carry a Zodiac without anyone noticing.” “Any name in the files?” “No. Looks like she changes it pretty regularly. Jenny might know more about her favorites, though.” “Yeah.” Sonny blinked. He’d so far avoided thinking about Jenny, but now he wanted to get back to the marina. “I’ll be sure to ask her.” Rico noticed the change. “Sonny, go ahead and cut out, man. I got this stuff. Go see how she’s doing and if she knows anything that can help. Castillo ain’t gonna mind.” Sonny spotted one of the tan Fords rolling out of the lot across from the building, but lost it inside of five minutes on the winding streets of Miami. Downshifting, he brought the Ferrari back to reasonable street speeds and the engine whine down to a more contented purr. It felt good to stretch the car a bit, and to work out some of his frustration on the Feebs in the Ford. He found Jenny sitting in the rear seats of the Dance, reading through what looked like some kind of organization plan. She smiled as he walked up the gangplank. “I’ve got good news, baby.” “What is it?” He forgot all his annoyance and stress from the case the second she smiled. “First, I was with Angie last night. We stayed up late talking and I didn’t want to make her drive me back.” “That’s what I figured. You didn’t miss anything, anyhow. I was out late with that damned case.” He smiled and sat down next to her, feeling the cushions shift as she slid closer. “We were talking, and I decided to do something. Please don’t be mad.” “I couldn’t be mad at you.” “I put some of my money into Caitlin’s House. The foundation part. I know it’s your project and all, but I wanted to help make sure it could keep running well into the future.” “You didn’t need to…” “I know. But the trust daddy set up for me has just been sitting there. It should be doing something good. Now it will be.” “Do I want to know how much?” She smiled and showed him the plan she’d been reading through. “Look at the last page.” He did, and his jaw went slack. “Jenny….that says five million dollars.” “Yes. It’s not the whole thing. About a third, maybe. But it will help keep the doors open and bring in the best doctors. That’s what she wants.” “Angie?” “No. Caitlin. It should be the best. I may move more if that’s not enough. We’ll know next year.” “I…I don’t know what to say.” “Don’t say anything. Just kiss me. Then I’ll know it’s fine.” He drew her in close and kissed her, not knowing what else to do or how to explain the love he felt overwhelming him. “I…” “Hush. It’s what she wanted. Now what did you want to ask me? I could see it in your eyes when you came up the gangplank.” “It’s about Monaele.” She nodded. “She’s evil, Sonny.” “I know. I met her last night. Her and that guy she’s with. We think they’re selling drugs to fund some kind of crazy coup for their fathers. She’s got a boat, a twin master.” “Sixty feet. She used at least three names for it, but the one she liked the most was Nibelung. Some German opera I think. It had enough compartments to move statues, so if she’s moving drugs she can more a lot.” “We’ll get her, Jenny. I promise you that. And if she tries to hurt you…” “I know. I know exactly what you’ll do. But she’ll use that against you if she finds out we’re together. Don’t underestimate her, Sonny. She’ll hurt you to get to me.” Sonny nodded, wanting to change the subject. He could see the hurt in her eyes, and the last thing he wanted was for her to bolt. She might think she was protecting him, but he could only look after her if he kept her close. “Why don’t we go below and you can tell me about this new plan. It seems thicker than the last one I saw.” She smiled and ducked below, already talking about the new programs they could add with her money. But he was only listening with half his mind. The other, the Burnett half, was working through plans and a darker corner contemplating just what he’d do to this girl if she harmed even a hair on Jenny’s head. He wouldn’t make the same mistake he’d made with Caitlin. Never again. The sun had long since sunk below the waves when Jenny lay back on the aft stateroom bed and smiled. “You’ve been so patient listening to all this.” “No. I like seeing you happy. And when you talk about this you just…I don’t know…glow. It’s beautiful.” “And you were right about Gina. She was there yesterday for a time and we talked. She does want what’s best for the girls.” “She was jealous of Cait, I think. We were…close once.” “I know. Trudy told me. But she seemed more settled this time. More sure.” “She didn’t like the Task Force. Not really, I don’t think.” “Good. She shouldn’t be there if she’s not sure. It’s a place for sure people.” He laughed. “You got that right.” She slapped his arm. “I’m being serious. You are Marty’s warrior brotherhood. Never forget that. He brought you all together for a purpose, and when you saved him you bound yourself to that purpose.” He shook his head. “Never thought of it like that before, darlin’. Maybe there’s something to that.” “There is. He chose each of you. For a specific reason. And you’ll be with him until he disbands it.” She smiled. “I’m there, too. Because of Trudy.” “You did save her life.” “We all did. So did Brick and Tiny. The other marshals. They’re part of the circle, too.” She kissed his neck, her lips soft against his skin. “But that’s enough serious talk for tonight. I want you to hold me.” Trudy looked out over the water, feeling Martin come up behind her before his arms slipped around her waist. “You’re quiet tonight,” he murmured, kissing her neck. His mustache tickled her skin, and she giggled. “I’ve just been thinking. What did you and Pete talk about? Is he really leaving?” “You intel people. No secrets from you, are there?” “Mindy has her sources in the office, and she talked to one when she went to pick up the file.” She slipped her hands over his, still looking out and listening to the invisible water slapping against the sand. “Is it true?” “He’s not sure. It’s possible, but he’s some favors to call in.” She nodded, understanding. It confirmed everything Mindy had told her earlier. “What will you do if he goes?” “What would you have me do, my love?” “What you think is right. What you always do.” She leaned back against him, feeling his strength supporting her. “I would likely turn in my papers. But you already knew that.” “I guess I did. I can’t see you going back to a desk in Metro-Dade, and a new agency is too hard.” “I’m where I can do the most good. And if I lose that, what’s the point?” He kissed her again. “But that’s just my answer.” “It would be mine, too. I can’t go back, either. Not after what we’ve done here. It would all be so hollow.” She laughed. “Imagine me tottering around doing a hooker sting. After shooting William Maynard. Ain’t gonna happen, brother.” He laughed then. “I agree. And Metro-Dade would hold your involvement with me against you. Even if they said they weren’t.” “I couldn’t go back to them in any case. You have to trust where you’re working. And I can’t trust them anymore. No, my love, if you go, I go. We leave together on our own terms.” “I’ll need to go out in a bit. There’s someone I need to meet.” “One of your CIA contacts? I understand. I’ll stay here and keep Jess company until you get back.” She smiled. “I can almost feel him out there tonight. The waves sound perfect.” “They do.” He kissed her again. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

When he saw the candle flickering in the main cabin porthole he smiled. She was there. Pausing at the base of the gangplank to gather himself, he headed up and then down into the saloon. “You still awake, baby?” he called, shrugging off his dark suit coat. Her voice echoed from the aft stateroom. “In here. I was just reading over some of the stuff Angie has for Caitlin’s House. Programs. Fun stuff they can do while they get help.” He stepped in and found her sitting on the bed, colorful brochures and a thick report spread out in front of her. “There’s so much to do, and I don’t know if she’s got the right people there to help her. With the papers, not the girls.” “Maybe you could help her. Seems like you know your way around this stuff.” “Some. Daddy tried to get me to go to business school. I still remember bits of it.” She looked up and her expression changed. “What is it?” “Jenny, do you know a woman named Monaele? Or did you know her?” “That’s a name I don’t want to hear.” “I know, baby. And I’m sorry. But it came up.” “How? Were you looking into what I was? I told you everything.” “No, Jenny. Nothing like that. She’s part of a case.” He sat down next to her, and his heart shrank when she shifted away from him. “You said you were afraid of something from your past? It could be her.” “What case? I don’t understand.” “Someone was ratting out middlemen in drug deals.” He told her what they knew, knowing it was breaking protocol but also that it was the only way he’d get anything from her. “Stan and Randy met them first. Her and some guy calling himself Frank. We know his real name, too.” “She never ran drugs before. Just art. Like me.” “That’s what Customs said about her. She had plastic surgery two years or so back to change her face.” He reached over and took her hand, glad she didn’t pull away. “And I can see why you didn’t like Gina. She looked like her before she had the surgery.” “You’re right. I never thought of that before. I haven’t been fair with her, have I?” “It’s fine, baby. You’ll get to know her as you work with her.” “But that’s not what we’re talking about, is it? How long has Moni been in Miami?” “Not long. They were bringing drugs down from Lauderdale. Offloading them in a small boat.” “That’s how she moved her paintings. Moni was always into paintings. I told her she’d get caught. They were too valuable. Got the wrong people interested. But she didn’t listen. Moni never listens.” “Why did you think she was after you?” She looked up at him, and he could see tears in her blue eyes. “She told me. On marine band radio one night when I was working on Vellamo.” “She called you?” “No. Just a transmission. I knew her voice. All she said was ‘I’m coming for you, Goldie.’ That’s what she always called me.” She looked down again. “She was one of the ones who thought I should be a good little rich girl and just go to parties. Even though her parents were richer than mine.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I didn’t want you to worry. And I wasn’t sure she was close until you told me just now.” “This is important, Jenny. What can you tell me about her?” “We worked together for a couple of months. Two rich girls on one boat.” She giggled. “No one paid attention to girls in bikinis. But that’s all it was. I never…” “Not my business if you did. But why does she hate you?” “She thinks I turned her in. She got picked up in Bermuda two weeks after we stopped working together. She was taking crazy risks.” She looked up at him and smiled. “I take my risks in the bedroom, not in the business. She tried for too big a score and got arrested. She bought her way out, but I heard she was convinced I must have tipped the cops off. But by then I’d gotten involved with that asshole you locked up and moved my operation to Florida.” “And now they’re trying to corner the drug trade. Or think they are. Stan talked about it like a pawnbroker taking out rivals.” “Yes. Stan knows the streets, baby. She’s doing it the way we would have in the islands. Remove the other middlemen so you’re the one people have to deal with if they want paintings, sculptures, whatever. And we never risked the boat. Always rafts. Easier to buy a new raft than a boat.” “And that’s what she’s doing now. I pushed her hard tonight. Or more like her boyfriend or cousin or whatever he is. Wouldn’t be surprised if he pissed his pants.” “If he’s who I think he is, he probably got a hard on. You’re more his type than she is, and he likes to be slapped around.” “Well shit.” Sonny looked down at the bedspread for a moment. “Didn’t see that coming.” She giggled. “He’s not dangerous. She is. Be very careful.” “You should be, too. You’re the one she wants. Me? I’m just transportation for the product.” She grabbed his hand. “Promise me you’ll be careful. She’s capable of way more than you think.” “I can get you a protective detail…” “No. I have my pistol and you. But I can’t lose you, Sonny.” “You won’t, darlin’. You have my word. And I gotta look out for you. I can’t lose you, either.” “You won’t.” She pushed the papers aside and pulled him down to her. “I’ll tell you everything I know about her later. But now…I need you.” “And that’s all she said?” Sonny looked at Rico, trying hard to hide his annoyance. “Yeah. It is. She worked with her for a few months down in Bermuda and some of the other islands. She said this lady has a thing for paintings and likely a grudge because she thinks Jenny tipped off the cops down there before she left. Oh, and she said she never slept with her if that’s what you were after.” “Easy, Sonny. I’m just checkin’ is all.” Sonny sighed. “I know, Rico. I’m sorry I flew off the handle. But she was upset last night. She’s not saying it, but this girl scares her. From what I saw last night she’s a cold bitch for sure. Nasty eyes. He’s just decoration.” He turned to look out the window, still sorting through his feelings. It wasn’t like him to snap at Rico. Not these days, anyhow. But he had. “How’d the Feebs do last night?” “Well, I hear from a buddy over in Metro-Dade that they fielded some calls for units to respond to some kind of street disturbance. Seems the Feds got egged by kids near the Double Trey marketplace. The uniforms got a few drug arrests in, too, and the Feds weren’t especially open about what they were doing in a known gang and drug area.” “You think they’re hooked?” “That I don’t know. Like as not they’re trying to figure out what the hell we’re after in that neck of the woods.” “Well, I’m sure Stan has something nice and juicy cooked up for them.” He grinned. “Is Castillo up to speed?” “Yeah, partner. He’s got the buy money ready for tonight.” “Stan must have told you. Sorry, partner. Like I said…” “Yeah. I get it. Hell, I can’t even bitch at you ‘cause I’d do the same for Mindy. It’s a sad Goddamned day when Ricardo Tubbs can’t chew Sonny Crockett’s ass for putting a lady first when he’s doing the same thing.” “So what about tonight? I think I got the Burnett scare into ‘em.” “According to Randy you did more than that. The girl couldn’t stop asking about you. The fruit already knew some, though. Maybe more than he let on before.” “I tried to sell you up as having tons of cash but no patience.” “Solid. You think we could get them tonight?” “Yeah. I just don’t know if we want to. Let’s see what Marty has to say about it.” “Do you think there are more people involved?” Castillo sat at his desk, looking up from the night’s activity reports. “I don’t know, captain.” Sonny shrugged. “We never got that far. Jenny says this lady likes to work alone, but she doesn’t know much about the guy. And if he’s the one bringing the product to the table he might have more people behind him.” “But why are they working together? It’s not romantic, and they both come from money.” Rico shook his head. “Gotta be more than two bored rich kids if you ask me.” “Find out. I don’t want them taken down until we know for sure.” “The why.” Sonny walked back into the conference room and stared at the map. “Burnett would want to know the why if he was taking them out. We’ve got the what and some of the how. But why the hell are they doing it?” Stan came out of the Tech Room. “And I got another question. What are we gonna do with the Feds tonight? We’re gonna be thin on the ground.” “Don’t you have some tape cooked up?” “Oh, yeah. More than they can handle. But I don’t want to overuse that one. We got a good hit last night, but we either gotta show ‘em something tonight or come up with a reason we’re not moving.” Rico nodded. “We’re almost fully committed tonight. Only the captain, Trudy, and Mindy won’t be in the field with us.” “Is there something we can have them do?” Stan looked from Sonny to Rico. “They’ll know Castillo doesn’t work operations much, so seeing him leave should send them into fits.” “Give it some thought. Both of you. See if Lester has any ideas, too. But we can’t take too long on it.” Sonny turned back toward the office. “We gotta be in character in under six hours.” In the end Pete solved the problem for them, although not by design. Castillo came out of his office just before four and motioned for Sonny and Rico. “I just got a call from the chief deputy. He wants a coordination meeting in an hour.” “In other words he wants company for dinner.” Castillo’s smile was thin. “Something like that. But it means I can take Trudy and Mindy and draw off our friends across the street. Trudy and I will take one car, she can take another.” Sonny nodded. “It should work. According to Lester’s last update they only have two mobile units on hand. The other one got called off for some mob stakeout.” “Clear the office as soon as they’re gone. You’ll have to set up for the operation somewhere else, but it’s a small price.” “Stan’s got everything pretty much ready to go.” Sonny looked down at his dark suit and smiled. “I’m already in costume, and Rico’s always ready to strut his stuff.” Rico nodded. “I’ll secure the buy money in the Caddy. Stan’s already got his.” “Good. Do you think you’ll make the buy tonight?” “If it all goes to plan, yes.” Sonny nodded toward Stan and Randy. “They’re moving their product with me, so it’s just a matter of picking it up. I’ll be using the Scarab, so I expect they’ll give me coordinates or a landmark for the exchange assuming the meet goes down. Any real exchange will be on the water.” “It’s rushed. More than I like.” Castillo shook his head. “But with the FBI getting in the way we don’t have much choice. I’ll expect a full debrief in the morning.” Rico watched Castillo walk away. “He’s not ok with this.” “I know. I ain’t happy, either. But it’s the hand we’ve been dealt. Be a hell of a lot easier if those discount G-Men weren’t dogging our damned heels. Let’s check in with Stan and Randy and make sure we’ll all on the same page.” Stan and Lester were doing final checks on the comm gear when Sonny walked in. “We heard the captain,” Stan said as he checked the batteries in one of the watch-microphones. “We’ll be ready to move in five. Randy and I have the hogs downstairs, and we’ll be in costume and moving as soon as Lester and Dave have the Roach Coach on the street. We’ll kill some time riding around and meet you two at the club.” Lester was still wearing his headphones, and he grinned. “And they’re off! The Feds just sent both units after the captain and Mindy. They’re pretty much blind now, especially if you use the side exit from the garage.” Stan chuckled. “No time to chat, girls. We got work to do.” He leaned past Sonny in the door. “Hey, Patch! Get ready to roll!” “Goddamnit I’m ready!” Randy’s voice echoed back from the other office. “Get your fat ass down there, Biggs!” Sonny chuckled. “We’ll see you there.” Rico waited until the others were gone. “How do you want to play this?” “I came down hard on that Hoffmann punk last night. I might just keep pressing him unless he gives me reason not to. Her? No clue. I’m curious to see if she comes out as the boss once money’s on the table.” “I think I’ll play Cooper cool and impatient this time out. You say you set me up as having been cut out of a deal and looking to replace weight in a hurry?” “More or less, yeah. Best thing I could think of to tack you into the deal. It also keeps Burnett in the crosshairs as a target middleman.” “But with the option to keep you around because you know people.” Rico nodded. “Solid. I got it.” Sonny had always admired his partner’s ability to shift between covers in what felt like seconds. He had fun-loving Cooper, hard-ass Cooper, the Jamaican Prentiss, and likely a few more waiting in the wings. Sonny just had Burnett. But Burnett was like the old friend you just couldn’t get rid of no matter how many times he screwed up because he was useful. And it was Burnett who remembered the look in Jenny’s eyes when he’d mentioned the name Monaele. They left ten minutes later, Rico lugging the locked briefcase of money. They took their own cars, planning to meet behind the club a few minutes before the meeting just to get things set. Sonny pulled out into traffic, fighting the urge to head back to the marina right away. He’d need to later to get the Scarab, but he knew if he went now he’d just want to stay with Jenny. Instead he drove, letting the Ferrari make its way through the familiar streets following the flow of traffic. He’d lost track of how many times he’d driven some of them, but he remembered each scumbag he’d taken down on each street corner or chased down each dark alley. Going all the way back to his days in uniform. He shook his head. I wonder what that cop would think if he saw me now? Probably not much. I wasn’t green even then. Not after Da Nang and Vietnam. But he’d changed in the last two years…more than he realized or maybe wanted to admit. He tried to focus on the meeting, on what he’d do when he got in the club with those two Nazis. But his mind kept wandering back to Jenny. And how much he’d changed after Caitlin was murdered. When he realized he’d brought it all on himself. Weak streetlights dripped golden light onto the parking lot, doing little to dispel the gloom. Between sunset and now clouds had rolled in thick and menacing, blotting out the stars and holding the dank late afternoon heat hostage. Sonny grimaced as he stepped out of the Ferrari and spotted Rico’s Caddy. “And we get shit weather. Welcome back to Maimi, Cooper.” Rico grinned. “Can’t say’s I care much for the weather, Burnett. They keep forecasting snow and all we get is this shit.” “Might be a new front rolling in. We’ll know in a few minutes.” Grinning, he gestured toward the club. “Let’s go check out the weather.” He could have sworn the dump only had one mix tape, and they kept the speakers cranked so no one could tell. The place was packed just he same, but he spotted a gap in the crowd and knew that would be where he’d find Stan and Randy and the two Nazis. Bikers scared the pretend beautiful people, and they always gave the two men space. Sonny forged through the crowd, opening a hole for Rico to follow. Dark glasses on, he looked like some sort of black granite statue, and the frozen look on his face worked like a hand to push people aside. Burnett was on full power, slipping into place with no though or direction on his part. Stan looked up and shouted a greeting. “Burnett! Over here, man. We got a pitcher.” “Biggs! I see Ken and Barbie made it back.” Sonny swept his gaze over the two, feigning indifference. “This here’s Rico Cooper.” Hoffmann got to his feet and extended his hand. “A pleasure, Mr. Cooper. I’m Frank.” Rico shook his hand with the genial Cooper smile glued to his face. “A pleasure, I hope. And who’s your companion?” “Moni. She handles my transportation.” Sonny watched her face, but nothing changed. Maybe that is what she does. But it doesn’t explain her control of the deals. Maybe she’s a babysitter for someone in addition to the driver. And maybe I should have told Rico the guy’s gay. He does seem kinda taken with ol’ Cooper there. “Does she talk?” “Not much. But she is good at what she does. Much like I hear your associate Burnett is good at his job.” “And if we’re done playing The Dating Game I’d like to do my job.” He nodded to Stan and Randy. “Biggs and Patch already got their deal in place. I told Cooper you might be able to help cover some of his shortfall.” Rico nodded. “At least forty. This time.” “This time?” “Of course. I prefer long-term arrangements. That’s why I move everything through Burnett when I’m in Miami. I know his work and trust it. I prefer to know and trust product as well. Nothing’s worse for business than shoddy or erratic product.” He smiled. “I’m sure you’d agree.” “Yes. Of course.” “It does beg the question, though, pal. You say you’ve heard of me. If your product’s so damned good how come I ain’t heard of you?” Randy looked over. “Man’s got a point, Frankie. This ain’t my turf, but it is Burnett’s.” “We have been working more in the Lauderdale area.” Hoffmann did his best to control the twitches in his face, and Sonny could see sweat beading on his forehead. “Only now are we coming into the Miami market.” “Coming in or getting pushed to?” Sonny decided to press a bit. “The way I hear it crack’s getting big there. And some of those boys are out of your league.” “How do you know my league, as you say?” “Simple, pal. If you’ve heard of me and I ain’t heard of you that means I’m in a bigger league than you are. But this gets us nowhere. Is the deal happening or not?” “Ours is.” Randy’s voice was firm. “I’m tired of fucking Miami and I want to put this money I got to work.” Rico raised his hand. “I want to test the product. I don’t do business on word alone, no matter how much I trust the person who’s talking.” Hoffmann snapped his fingers, and Monaele started to reach inside her bra. “No. I want to test product from the actual shipment. You two really are amateurs. Why would I trust whatever she pulls out of her bra? The boobs could be fake, and the coke could be of much higher quality than the actual shipment.” Sonny watched as her eyes turned mean, but she didn’t rise to Rico’s bait. She’s got more control than I thought she would. This girl’s damned dangerous. “Look. We can do the test when we do the exchange. If the product’s bad, Cooper pays less for it. The way it was clouding up out there we might be in for a storm, and if you’re gonna insist on doing the deal on the water we’d better get a damned move on.” “Very well.” Hoffmann reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat and pulled out a slip of paper. “Meet us at these coordinates in one hour. Use your navigation lights, but have the red ones blink. We will do the same, but with green. We will bring the product to you in a Zodiac. Two trips. One for Biggs and Patch, who will pay. The second for Mr. Cooper, who will test and then pay.” Sonny looked at Rico, who nodded. “Fair enough. Just don’t fuck with me.” Randy’s voice was a growl. “Or us. Bikers is damed good at gettin’ even.” “We will see you in an hour.” Hoffman helped Monaele to her feet and they headed for the front of the club. “The Scarab’s at the marina, guys. We’ll meet you there.” Sonny looked at Rico as Stan and Randy headed for the door. “I don’t like this.” “I don’t either, partner. You got those spiders?” “No. It’s the damndest thing. I don’t.” “I gotta ask. What does Burnett think?” “We got ‘em hooked. As soon as you said long term supply her eyes lit up. Now let’s go get the boat and get this damned thing done.” The wind had picked up, slapping the ocean into a rough dance. There was no rain, but the air hinted at the possibility sooner instead of later. Sonny shot a quick look at the Dance, almost relived when he didn’t see a candle flickering. She must have stayed with Angie. She’d mentioned that if the meeting went too long. It saved explaining why he was firing up the big engines in the Scarab and loading the other three men on board. “It’ll be a bit rough out there,” he announced as he backed the boat away from the dock and turned her bow toward the ocean. “Get as comfortable as you can.” Randy groaned. “I hate the Goddamned ocean. Remind me not to shoot one of those bastards when we get there.” Sonny grinned, opening the throttles as wide as he dared. They’d make good time, but he had to be careful not to capsize or overturn in the rough sea. He’d plotted the coordinates Hoffmann had given him before pulling away from the dock, and he checked both the chart and the compass as they plowed through the choppy seas. It was just rough enough he had to focus on his piloting, and for once he was glad for the bad weather. It kept him from worrying about Jenny. Checking his watch, he looked at the compass and markings on the chart one last time. “We’re almost there. Rico, hit the blinker switch on the red nav lights, would you? I gotta keep enough power on to hold us steady in this weather.” Randy came up from below, his face pale and drawn in the faint light from the small lamp above the chart table. “This damned carnival ride almost over?” “The first part, Patch. Now we just gotta watch for their damned Christmas lights.” Sonny shook his head. “They may be shitty drug runners, but they know a thing or two about smuggling. Or she does, at least.” Stan wasn’t quite as pale as Randy, but he looked uncomfortable and kept a good grip on the rail. “I think I got ‘em over there.” He pointed into the gloom. “Just off the bow.” Sonny followed his arm and nodded. “Yeah. I got ‘em. And smaller lights. They already launched the damned Zodiac.” He nodded to Randy. “Best keep that .45 ready. I don’t trust these assholes.” “You and me both.” Over the wind and thumping engines of the Scarab Sonny could make out the higher-pitched motor of the inflatable raft. It bounced over the water, moving fast and with purpose. As it drew near it slowed, and he heard Hoffmann’s voice. “Throw us a line!” “You heard the man, Biggs!” Sonny watched as Stan picked up one of the lines coiled on the Scarab and tossed it to the other man. Correction, one of the other men. Sonny could pick out at least three on the Zodiac. And one of them was clutching something that glittered metallic in the gloom. “Your pal there tries anything funny with that UZI, Frank, you’re dead.” Sonny pulled his own pistol. “Security. I’m sure you understand.” “Yep. And like I said, my security is right here and aimed at your head. Patch, you wanna take care of your business first?” “Yeah.” Randy hauled out a gym bag. “Come on over, boy, an’ get your reward.” The two craft were next to each other now, the Zodiac bobbing like a cork in a Jacuzzi while the heavier Scarab rode the waves with a bit more grace. Hoffman scrambled aboard with the solid moves of someone accustomed to the sea and flicked on a flashlight so he could check the money. Satisfied, he waved his arm and duffle bags began coming over the side. “You may check them if you wish.” “Naw. We’re good. And if we’re not I’ll find you and shove your balls up your nose.” Randy turned. “Biggs, check for weight an’ content, though. It all better be coke and it all better be there.” Stan moved fast. “It’s all here, Patch. We’re good.” Nodding, Hoffmann turned to Rico. “And now, Mr. Cooper. Your business.” He waved again and a single bag came over the side. “Your test.” Nodding, Rico pulled out an ivory-handled pocketknife and slit open the plastic covering one of the one kilo bricks. He pulled it from the middle of the bag and scraped off a small bit from the brick, dropping it into a test kit and snapping it to combine the chemicals. Seconds later he examined it under the chart light and smiled. “We have a deal.” He pulled out the attache case and popped the locks. “Paid in full.” Hoffman flipped through the money, checking for blank paper under a layer of real bills. Then he gave a final wave and the rest of the coke came over the side in the now-familiar bags. Hoffmann tossed the attache case down into the raft. “And you had said something about a longer term arrangement?” “Yeah. But I need more than forty keys.” “We can meet your needs?” “Big talk. Can you handle a hundred keys a week?” “Yes.” Sonny saw no hesitation in the man’s eyes or body language. And that gave him pause. Just how big was daddy’s crop anyhow? “Maybe twice that.” “A week?” “A hundred? Yes. Two hundred might take a bit more work, but we can manage that, too.” “I’ll need to talk with my associates. How can I contact you?” Hoffmann didn’t hesitate. “Put a call out on Marine Band each night at 2300 hours exactly once you have your answer from your associates. Say ‘accepted.’ Nothing more. When you hear me answer ‘affirmative’ meet us the following night at the club where we first met.” “No.” “What?” “You heard me, chump. That club sucks. Rico Cooper doesn’t do clubs that suck. We’ll meet at Rumours the following night at ten. You’ll dig it. Better sound system and the drinks are solid.” “Very well. But if we don’t hear from you in a week we will assume the arrangement is off.” Without another word Hoffmann scrambled back down to the raft and cast off the line. Soon the black craft was bobbing back across the water toward the larger ship. “You get a look at that thing?” Sonny asked Randy. “I see you down there with the night glasses.” “Not as good a one as I’d like. Sailboat, though. Bigger than the thing you live on, too. Looks like it might have two masts.” “Could you see a name? Hull numbers?” “Naw. Too dark. And it looks like they had the back covered with a tarp.” Rico nodded. “Makes sense. They’re careful.” Sonny shoved the throttles as far open as was safe in the rough sea. “And we gotta look that way, too, gents. Hang on. We’re headin’ back.” Stan looked back at the fading shadow of the boat. “Head for the old fishing docks down by the canal mouth, Sonny. Lester should be meeting us there with a truck. Gotta sell Patch’s deal just in case they got eyes on. We’ll stay with you and pick up our bikes at the marina.” “Good thinking, Stan. I was all set to just drive up the damned coast.” The bigger cop grinned. “Sometimes I am more than just a pretty face.” “Yeah. That you are.” Sonny chuckled, feeling some of the Burnett tension slide away. But he knew he wouldn’t be fully out of cover until the last of the product was secure and he was back with Jenny. And even then he wasn’t sure. Lester and Dave were waiting by the dilapidated dock in a rusty pickup perfect for their redneck disguises. Dave, complete with a trucker mesh Budweiser cap, hopped out and helped Stan load while the other two stood guard, Lester toting a nasty-looking cut down shotgun and looking every inch a crank runner from the swaps. Finishing up, Randy slapped Dave on the shoulder and jumped back on the boat. The truck was gone in seconds, its lone headlight blazing a rough path through rain that had finally started to fall. Sonny headed back out to sea, staying near the coast and using the Scarab’s limited navigation radar to watch for anyone in pursuit. He wouldn’t put it past these two to radio ahead and have someone waiting. Rico watched the glowing screen. “I’d feel better if I knew where those two were going.” “You and me both, partner. But if they’ve been smuggling as long as I think they have, especially her, any kind of overwatch would tip them off. It’s a risk, and it’s on my head if they just disappear. But I don’t think they will. The greed in that dude’s eyes was bright enough to read a book by.” “Yeah, and it’s his daddy’s coke that’s makin’ the money. I still don’t get her role. If it’s just transportation, why does she have so much control. We know it ain’t sex.” “Unless she has a brother he’s hot for.” Sunny grinned. “But yeah, there’s some moving pieces in this I don’t have a handle on just yet.” Stan sat back on the cushions, looking more comfortable with the rough water now. “”How are we gonna handle the Feebs next time? Granted Randy and I won’t be playing biker, so there will be more people to man the screen. And sooner or later those morons are gonna make a wrong move and set something off.” “Maybe Castillo got something at his meeting with Pete.” Randy’s voice floated up from the Scarab’s small cabin. “I don’t think that one was faked.” “I think you’re right.” Sonny let the possibilities float around in his head as he guided the big boat through the falling rain and rough water, glad he’d pulled a rain jacket out of the locker as soon as the deal was done. There were enough for all of them, but Randy stayed below and Stan make some offhand comment about his ‘monthly bath’ and just let the rain roll off his biker leather. “Maybe he found out who authorized their tap and all that damned activity. Someone had to sign off on it if they’re throwing that many field agents at us. Hell, last I heard the Miami FBI office couldn’t mount a decent stakeout without some outside help.” “Yeah, but we still better have a plan. Like I said, Lester and I have tapes galore we can turn loose on ‘em, but that only works for so long. And we can’t bumble around too long. Some of them gotta know our reputations from OCB and they won’t buy it. Even if their boss does.” “You got a point, Stan.” Rico nodded, pulling the hood of his jacket up to keep the rain out of his eyes. “We might have to take a swing at Double G and his boys just to get them to buy in. Hell, I ain’t opposed, mind. That chump needs to go down. But we’re fully committed chasing these two ghosts.” Sonny nodded, feeling his mind slip back into cold Burnett planning mode. “I still need the why. Give me that, and I’ll break those two. Double G’s easy. He went for the easy money to keep his posse together. We can’t cut off the crack. It’s too easy to make. But we can feed the AUSA the information we gathered when we took down Doc and they can use that to get some warrants issued. And if we can find any evidence that crack or any of its components comes from outside Florida…” “It’s an interstate case and the Feebs HAVE to take it.” Rico grinned. “Genius.” “Or they can use that fancy RICO toy of theirs to go after him. Between Delgado’s heroin and this he’s clearly a criminal enterprise.” Sonny looked at Stan. “Do you know if Mindy and Gina ever finished processing all that intel?” “I think so. Most of it, at least.” “Mindy hasn’t said anything.” Rico shook his head. “We’ll find out in the morning.” “Yeah. But I still need the why for our twins. Damn it.” Sonny stared out through the rain, imagining he could see the faint shape of a twin-masted sailboat out in the darkness. Give me the why and I can give you both of them on a platter. It was after midnight when Sonny idled the Scarab back into its spot on the marina dock. Stan jumped over and made the lines fast, and he shut down the two big engines with a sigh. Randy and Stan departed soon after, their big bikes thundering as they headed off down streets slick with rain. Rico watched them go, then turned to Sonny. “Feel like a drink, partner?” He looked over at the boat, still seeing no candle. “Sure. I’m guessing with the storm Jenny just crashed at the house. She had another meeting with Angie, and said it might run late.” Rico hefted one of the bags. “You wanna grab the other one? We can get ‘em loaded and then come back.” “Naw. Let’s keep ‘em close by. No point in tempting any of the punks down the dock. We got some younger rich kids in now, and they seem to like to check out other people’s cars.” Sonny switched on the single overhead in the saloon, bathing the small space in a warm yellow glow. Rico set the bag down and whistled. “I keep forgettin’ how nice this tub can look in the right light.” “Yeah. She’s got lots of memories. Mostly good now, thank God.” “And I don’t have to worry about some refugee from a shoe factory eatin’ my feet.” Rico did a little shuffle dance before he sat down. “Elvis was cool an’ all, but…” “Yeah. He didn’t belong on no damned boat. I think Jenny misses him some days, but to tell the truth I was gettin’ kind of tired of cleaning up gator shit.” Sonny grinned and pulled two bottles from the sideboard. “Scotch?” “Joo got it.” Rico grinned, watching Sonny pour a full measure for him and a similar slug of Black Jack for himself. He raised his glass. “To the first part of a job well done.” Sonny smiled and raised his glass. But inside he wasn’t so sure. It was the first part, no question. But had they done it well? He wasn’t sold on that. Not until they had a second meeting lined up. “How well do you think Jenny really knows this girl?” “Pretty well. Better than she said, at least. I don’t know how far back they go, but she said the girl comes from money. I’ll bet if we do a sweep through Interpol stuff she’ll come up as being tied to the Hoffmann family somehow.” “And money means good lawyers.” “Yeah. So we gotta wrap this one up tight, partner.” He took a drink, feeling the bourbon bite the back of his throat. It almost made him want a beer instead, and he smiled at the change. “If they’re connected those families managed to duck justice at least once before.” “Not in our house.” Rico’s jaw set in a stubborn line. “Not this time.”

Rico looked up and grinned when Sonny walked into the office. “One day to go, partner. I don’t know about you, but I’m gettin’ tired of warming the damned bench.” Sonny grinned. “You and me both. You have any of those Sears suit guys follow you home?” Rico shook his head. “Naw. Stan drew the last one off when he rolled out in the Roach Coach. But it gave Lester plenty to work with.” He chuckled to hide his own growing frustration. “Good to see the boys earnin’ their pay.” But it was getting harder for him to keep his temper in check. Who the hell do those cheap assholes think they are? Tapping the phones of fellow cops! It ain’t our fault they can’t find their own asses without three partners, a spotlight, and a map with a big ‘your ass is here’ arrow on it. “You ready to get Burnett back into action?” “Yeah.” There was something in Sonny’s voice that made Rico look up. “What’s up, partner? That ain’t confidence I hear.” “No, it’s all good, Rico. It’s just funny is all. All that Caitlin’s House stuff is going through in his name, at least in parts. I’m signing things over to myself and then shifting it into a foundation. Feels damned strange is all.” “I’ll bet. How’s Jenny doing?” “Good. Having the boat project settled her down quite a bit. But she still won’t tell me anything other than it was a feeling about something from her past.” “Just do me a favor and don’t slug one of the Feebs if they get in our way today. I think Dave wants to be the first in the ‘whack a Feeb’ contest.” “That’s no shit. Can’t say’s I blame him, though.” Rico was about to saying something else when Mindy stuck her head in the office door. “We just got those photos from Customs. You’ll want to see this.” Rico walked into the conference room and froze. Four photos were spread out on the table, and he looked at each one in turn before glancing back at Mindy. “Did you edit that nose onto Gina’s face?” “No. That’s what our mystery lady looked like before her trip to the body shop.” Stan came out of the Tech Room. “Did someone say…holy shit! Are those old photos of Mrs. Switek?” Rico laughed. “Same thing I thought, Stan. That’s our mystery lady before her operations.” Stan narrowed his eyes, covering the broken nose and jawline with his hands. “Yeah…it’s her alright. Can’t miss those eyes. But have Randy take a gander, too. Just to be sure.” He lifted his hands and shook his head. “But she’s a damned spitting image of Gina with a broken nose otherwise.” Rico looked over and saw Sonny’s expression changing. “What’s up, partner?” “I think this just told me part of the reason Jenny doesn’t like Gina. I think she might know this girl. Or at least know of her.” “It makes sense.” Rico laid his hand on Sonny’s shoulder. “You knew what she did before, man. You can’t hold it against her if she knows some bad people.” “I don’t. Trust me, Rico. I don’t. I just never thought to ask her if Gina reminder her of someone.” This time Stan spoke up. “And why the hell would you? Besides. She wasn’t like that when they first met. Not completely. It only started recently.” “About the time she thought something from her past was coming back.” Rico snapped his fingers. “Maybe she saw her somewhere or it was just that damned sixth sense thing she has.” Castillo came out of his office. “Do we have a name on this woman?” “Customs didn’t, captain.” Mindy shook her head. “But I faxed a copy to DEA and our local office. They’re running the old picture now. Shouldn’t take long.” “Good. Say nothing to Jenny until we have a name.” Rico nodded. It made sense to him. But… “We got one day before the meet with those two, captain. Is it still on?” “Yes. We can’t afford to let them disappear. They may be new to narcotics, but they have clear smuggling skills and unlimited access to product. We can’t let them get their feet under them.” “Solid. And how do we send the FBI after their own tails?” Trudy came out of her office with a small stack of papers. “Mindy and I have that solved for you, Rico. We’ve got two options framed. They’ll both take out some mid-level players in the booming crack economy, and minimize the chances for the FBI to inflict collateral damage.” Rico took one of the stapled packets and flipped through the sheets. “I like your style, Trudy. Make them clean up some of our leftovers.” He looked over at Castillo. “The first option sends the Feebs after the remnants of the Double Treys. That Dominican gang. They picked up crack because it was easy and are making some inroads.” “And the other?” “Just as good. Seems the Columbians who lived through that little war refocused their efforts on crack. Los Tech 9s swept up the remains of two other smaller gangs and are setting up shop on the fringes of Overton.” Rico rubbed his chin, feeling his beard under his fingertips. He’d considered shaving it off until Mindy told him she liked how it tickled. “I’m thinking we send ‘em after the Treys because it’s an easier sell.” Sonny nodded. “Yeah. Make it sound like we’re pissed some of them got away. Language the Feebs understand all too well.” Stan shook his head. “Not be a downer and all, but what if they don’t buy it?” “Then we shake their tails, jam their radios, and go to the AUSA about them interfering in our investigations.” Castillo’s voice was cold. “I will not lose this operation because of them.” Dave spoke up from the edge of the room. “Then I’ll do my damndest to see this one, captain. I want to see those boys turning beet red with their dicks in their hands in the middle of the street.” Trudy nodded, hiding a smile. “They we go with Plan A.” She pulled out a second stack of papers. “Here’s our working outline.” Rico flipped through it, his smile getting wider by the second. “I like it. And it’s a damned easy sell. So easy I’ll just start it now.” Reaching out, he snatched up the phone and selected the line they knew was tapped. “This is Lieutenant Tubbs. Special task force. Yeah, I need all the current intel you got on the Double Treys. Street gang over near Little Havana. Yeah, one of the ones that was in that war a couple of months back. Solid. Thanks.” Sonny chuckled. “Let me guess. Metro-Dade central records.” “Joo got it, meng. And I’ll bet…” “We got a bite!” Lester’s voice echoed from the bowels of the Tech Room. “Their control point just called Edgar Seven, that’s the tan Ford on duty right now, and told them to expect a marked Metro-Dade unit something before three.” Rico glared at the phone. “And we’re clean aside from this?” “Yeah.” Stan nodded to back up his answer. “Lester and I upped our sweeps to once a day. We might go to twice a day once this gets rolling.” Rico looked around the room. “We’ll need to line this up so we draw them off somewhere else before the meeting tomorrow night.” Stan grinned. “We got some ideas there, Rico. What’s gonna be tight is manpower. Running two ops at the same time is gonna stretch us thin.” “We’ll have personnel.” Castillo’s voice was firm. “Don’t worry about that. Focus on the plans.” Back in the office, Rico sank back in his chair with a sigh. “You know, I kinda wish we were taking out the Double Treys.” “You and me both. I really don’t want to dance with those two Nazi goofs,” Sonny shook his head. “Especially if they’re tied to Jenny somehow.” “You’d better get your head and heart right on this one, partner. She’s done with that life. She said so, and I believe her. She gave up a life for you. You gotta trust her.” “I know, Rico. And I do. But if I found out they hurt her…” “Yeah.” He saw the change in Sonny’s eyes and knew exactly what he meant. “I hear you. But we gotta stay focused. See this one through.” “Yeah. I know.” Rico watched as Sonny turned away, feeling the concern growing in his mind and seeping down to his heart. He knew how much Sonny loved Jenny, more that he had Caitlin if that was possible. And after what he’d seen with Menton, he knew Burnett was even more dangerous than he had been before. More focused. Calculating in a way the side of Sonny that took down the Manolo cartel wasn’t. Not quite. Shaking his head, he forced himself back to the files on his desk. He had to trust his partner. Had to. There was no getting around that. And even with his worries he knew he could look himself in the mirror and say he trusted Sonny Crockett. Reading back through his note he chuckled. “You think that Double G chump is still runing the Double Treys?” “Last I heard Metro-Dade hadn’t picked him up, so I’d guess he is.” Sonny looked up from his own notes. “He must have been hurtin’ to replace that cash cow Doc and his China White gave the hood.” “Yeah. That and sweepin’ up what was left of the 8-Ball Kings.” Rico closed the folder with an annoyed snap. “I suppose we’d better start planning our little meet with Hitler’s leftovers or whatever the hell those two are. And how we’re gonna balance that with gettin’ the Feds after the Double Treys.” “Marty said we’d have manpower, so I’ll bet he’s reaching out to Pete.” Sonny grinned. “But we plan like we don’t have any help. That way it’s easy to slot people in if they magically appear.” Rico nodded. His brain was spinning through possibilities, though he knew not as fast as Sonny’s. His partner had that blank Burnett look he got when he starting planning for real. “I’ll go get Dave and Randy and we’ll take the conference table. It’s gonna be us at first, anyhow.” They sat around the table staring at the small-scale map of Miami mounted on the wall marked with grid references and operational notes. Randy shook his head. “I ain’t givin’ up our good spots for those morons.” Rico nodded. “I wouldn’t ask you to. Naw, this can be stuff that’s pretty disposable. Just good enough so you’re not standin’ in the middle of the street with an FBI jacket on or something. We just want to look like we’re starting to plan something, not goin’ all out.” Sonny stared at the map. “We know where the Treys ran before Doc went down. And the intel coming over will update the picture.” “I’d say we sucker those morons into the newer areas.” Dave waved a hand at the map. “We ain’t really worked some of that before, so we can recon and send those fools after their own tails.” “Sonny and I can hit any clubs in the zone.” Rico looked at the map. “If they move the way we think they did, there’s a couple of spots down there we can move in. I’ll have to work up some disposable chump cover, and Sonny’s Burnett all the time.” He watched out of the corner of his eye to see how Sonny reacted. Sonny chuckled. “Havin’ a rep isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be, boys. It might get you some phone numbers, but it makes things difficult when you want to try something different.” He shook his head. “But we don’t need to worry about that until after the meet tomorrow. You two might take a pass through tonight just to get ‘em interested, though.” Randy nodded. “Yeah. I don’t want to get too extended if I gotta be Patch tomorrow night.” He grinned. “I don’t know how you guys do it day in and day out. I can do UC, but it wears me the hell out.” Rico smiled. “It did me at first, too. But the rush of it’s just so damned strong. I got to the point I used it to push through, and then it’s like you’re hooked.” “Give me a damned rifle and a target and I’m happy.” Dave looked at the others around the table. “Hell, it’s hard enough for me to keep my own head straight, let alone two or three others stuffed in there.” Rico chuckled with the rest, but he knew there was wisdom in what Dave said. His life had been quite a bit easier when he was working Patrol in the Bronx back in New York. You weren’t taking down the big bad guys, but every day you could make a little difference of one kind or another. But he’d wanted more. Hell, it was how they got you to pick up the gold shield. But there was a certain kind of purity in what Dave did. Or the guys on the high-risk warrant teams. Find the bad guy, take down the bad guy. A patrol car from Metro-Dade dropped off the files Rico had asked for just after two, and they spent the rest of the afternoon reviewing new information and adjusting their plans. It was almost five when Dave and Randy headed out, making a show of taking one of the unmarked units and drawing a tan Ford out in their wake. Stan confirmed with a burst of Elvis lyrics that the FBI had taken the bait, and were actually sending two units to watch the deputies. Rico chuckled. “That leaves them with one. I wonder who the hell they’ll follow?” “Me.” Castillo came out of his office. “They can’t stand not knowing what the unit chief is doing. They don’t trust their people to do their own work, and figure everyone else works the same way. Trudy and I will live in half an hour, and then you can all call it a day.” “Solid.” Rico smiled and forced his mind to shift gears. “There’s a new quartet at Downbeat I want Mindy to see.” Mindy’s red hair appeared out of the intel office. “New quartet? Why didn’t you tell me?” “There’s this thing called a surprise. I hear the ladies like them.” He nodded toward the map. “And with things heatin’ up again we might not get much time to relax.” Castillo smiled. “Don’t forget I want a full briefing on your plans in the morning. Both of them.” The last note floated out of the wide bell of the sax and melted into the smokey air of the club. Rico looked over at Mindy and saw her eyes shining in the dancing candle light. They’d eaten at the club, and they still had half a bottle of wine between them. It was a quiet, relaxing evening. Something Rico hadn’t known he’d needed until it happened. “That kid gets better every day. How long you you think they’ll be able to keep him? The rest of the band’s new.” “Unless he starts rapping, he’s safe here. Not that many record deals for traditional jazz guys, an’ I bet the kid knows it.” Rico smiled. “Or his agent does.” Mindy giggled. “You’re probably right. Still, it gives us something to do when we want to go out. I can’t complain.” “Neither can I.” Picking up the bottle, Rico topped off her glass and poured the last of the wine into his. When the waiter came by he shook his head. “Cutting back?” “Yeah. I kinda got the idea from Sonny.” “He’s changed, hasn’t he?” “More than you know, Mindy. Hell, you would have hated him if you’d met him when we were with OCB.” “I mean just in the time I’ve known him he’s changed.” “I think we all have.” He smiled as the band struck up another standard. “And I’d say mostly for the better.” Her hand slipped over his as the sax player ran through the Charlie Parker line opening Ornithology. “I can’t argue with that.” Sonny and the team presented their plans to Castillo just after ten the next morning. “I’ll be going in with Stan and Randy,” Sonny finished, locating the club on the map. “I’ll do the Burnett heavy thing and see what shakes out. The goal is to get Rico in the club tonight, but if that doesn’t play out at the next meeting.” “What’s your pitch?” “Greed. Same as usual. Did Customs come up with anything new on the girl?” Trudy nodded. “Yes. Her name’s Monaele Jankow. They were after her for questioning regarding a shipment of stolen paintings moving from Argentina to collectors in South Florida. They got awful interested when they saw the new photos, but I think I warned them off.” Sonny nodded, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. Stolen art? Can’t be a coincidence. Jenny must know her. “How long ago was this?” “Three years give or take.” Trudy shook her head. “They had no information about her having a partner or anything else, Sonny. Sorry.” “Well, she’s got one now and she’s looking to change from paintings to blow.” He turned to Castillo. “I’ll ask Jenny about her tonight, captain. See if she knows anything.” “Thank you. It’s not necessary, though.” “It is for me.” Sonny felt his eyes go cold. “Anyhow, we want to get Cooper in play as quickly as we can. And I’ll let Stan talk about the other plan, since quite a bit of it’s on Team Elvis.” “Thank you very much.” Stan ran the words together in a perfect Elvis drawl, and Sonny sat down. Happy to be out of the spotlight. “We got a show for you tonight, folks. Or more to the point, we got a show for the FBI. Dave and Randy did a great job selling their ‘superior’ surveillance skills last night. That team bit on both the fake hide locations you set up. Our plan’s to use those in conjunction with some fake transmissions to make the FBI think we have people in position when we really don’t. But each position’s perfectly sited to give the Feds a perfect view of crack selling activity.” Rico nodded. “Yeah. Metro-Dade’s product was pretty good. We’ve got locations marked where the heavy trade goes down. I know it ain’t the Feds’ normal beat, but they can’t look the other way. Not for long, anyhow.” “Risk?” “There’s always some.” Stan grinned. “Those damned Fords of theirs aren’t exactly stealthy, and they stand out in Double Treys’ turf like no one’s business. But are we putting them deliberately in harm’s way? Not a chance.” “Good. Consider them both approved. Will you need buy money tonight?” Randy shook his head. “No. I did my cash flash already, and Patch ain’t the kind to carry money around with him without a good reason. We’ll use this to get Burnett in front of them and see where it goes from there.” The rest of the day dragged by, made worse for Sonny because he wanted to head back to the marina and ask Jenny about this Monaele. But she was at another meeting with Angie and the lawyers, and he couldn’t in good conscience bail on the team. So he glared out the window at the buildings across the street, wondering which window was hiding the FBI. “They gettin’ to you, too?” “Sort of, Rico. Don’t those assholes have real criminals to chase instead of wasting time and taxpayer money bothering fellow cops?” “You know the Feebs.” “Yeah, and I wish I didn’t.” He looked at his watch. “Only another three hours before showtime. I wonder if Stan’s plan will work?” Rico shook his head. “I don’t know, but it’s genius.” It was just starting to get dark when Sonny looked down and saw two tan Fords roar out of the lot across the street and accelerate toward Double Treys turf. Stepping out the door, he looked down toward the Tech Room. “I don’t know what the hell you just did, but those two carloads of J. Edgar’s finest just took off like there was a dress sale at Sears.” “We just fired up Betty Sue.” Stan shrugged. “It was Lester’s name. Don’t judge.” “What exactly was it?” “We sent out a fake transmission series making it sound like Dave was reporting in from one of the overwatch positions they scouted yesterday.” Stan laughed. “You should have heard their control freaking out on the radio. Actually you can. We taped it. Anyhow, he sent their two mobile units off on a wild goose chase. At least if they’re looking for Dave.” “Yeah.” Dave looked up from his gun magazine. “That fake position is right near a major street corner crack market. At the very least it’ll send the dealers to ground an’ might make the Feebs think a bit.” “Nice move waiting for Castillo to leave before pulling the trigger.” Stan shrugged again, turning back to the Tech Room. “He drew off their third unit. That means we have a window to get out of here and do our jobs. And now if you girls will excuse me I gotta get in costume.” He laughed again. “Now I know how Gina and Trudy felt.” He leaned in the door of the office Randy and Dave shared. “Randy! You gonna help me with my corset?” “Screw you!” Laughing, Sonny turned back to his office. At least they could still joke before heading out. The day they couldn’t was the day they should pack it in. The two Harleys rolled ou first, the roar of their exhaust echoing off nearby buildings. The heat hadn’t left the pavement yet, and Sonny wasn’t looking forward to stepping out of the Ferrari. But he tucked the white beast in behind the two bikes and followed their lead through the winding traffic. It was that strange part of the evening, when the old folks were heading home and the younger ones hadn’t gone all-out crazy yet. Back in his uniform days he’d enjoyed the lull, and now he just appreciated the lack of traffic. He parked a bit back from the bikes, mostly to give them space to turn and get if things when south in the club. The fading heat still had enough strength to slap him in the face as he stepped out of the car and buttoned his Burnett-black suit coat. There was nothing casual about his look tonight, and he felt his mood starting to match. All the cold calculation backed by a certain vicious anger. He could feel the Smith & Wesson under his arm, and the weight of the Detonics on his ankle. It was time. Stan nodded as he came over, slipping into character with ease. “Burnett. This is Patch. Old buddy of mine. The people we’re meeting are inside.” Sonny nodded to Randy, his head moving a fraction of an inch. “Let’s get this done. I’ve got better things to do than hang out at some dive club.” The doorman thought for a second about blocking their passage. Until he locked eyes with Sonny. Then the rope dropped and he waved them through without a second glance. Sonny took the lead, moving through the crowd with a total lack of concern. His attitude was almost a physical thing, and people moved as soon as they saw him coming. He’d slipped his sunglasses back on once they got in, and it just added to the Burnett look and mood. Stan touched his arm. “There they are.” Sonny looked, and pitched his voice loud enough to carry. “You didn’t tell me I was meeting with Ken and fucking Barbie.” Randy laughed. “Now that you mention it, they do look kinda like them.” Stan stepped in front, doing his best Biggs in command routine. “Frank, this is the guy I told you about. Sonny Burnett, this is Frank.” “Sit down so you don’t look like a total asshole.” Sonny smiled inside as he saw the girl flinch. “That goes for you, too, darlin’. I don’t have all night, so let’s get to it. Biggs here needs some assistance with transportation. That’s what I do. He says you have product that needs to be moved. Fine. What are we talking in terms of weight?” Frank’s eyes were still glazed from the initial approach, and Sonny could see he was well out of his depth. Like a kid learning to swim who jumped off the high board. “We were talking forty kilos.” Sonny turned and looked at Stan. “Forty? That’s chump change Biggs. Barely worth starting the Scarab over.” Randy shook his head. “Cash I got to invest only goes so far, man.” “I get it. Business is business and all that. But I got margins, too.” He smiled. “Last time Biggs and I did a run forty was all I could handle. But things have changed a bit since then.” Frank nodded, trying to look important. “Yes. I have heard of you, Mr. Burnett.” “But I don’t know you, pal. That gets you nothing from me.” He turned back to Stan. “Look, Biggs. I’m not gonna screw you or your partner. But we gotta find a way to sweeten this a bit.” He turned back to the blondes in business suits, deciding he really didn’t like Monaele’s eyes. “I don’t suppose you happen to have some extra weight kicking around? Like say double what they’re looking for?” He watched as the girl touched Hoffmann’s leg. “It could be arranged.” “Yes or no, pretty boy?” “Yes, and I’m not…” Sonny had his 4506-1 out and under the man’s nose in less than a second. “You don’t tell me squat, pal. You’re decoration. I get it.” He turned and looked at the girl, the Burnett side of him enjoying the sudden flash of fear in her eyes. “You make the decisions, right, darlin’? Good. Decide. I got an investor lined up who just had a deal fall through and is looking for what Biggs and Patch want. Same weight. Question is can you do it or not?” The gun disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Her accent was faint, and her voice throaty. “Yes. We can do that much.” “Good. He’ll want to meet you and check the product. Me? I don’t care. I just move it. But Mr. Cooper’s a bit picky.” Randy shook his head. “This is all damned special, but I don’t want to stick around Miami a day more than I have to. You dig?” “Yeah. I get it.” Sonny paused, pretending to think. “Look. I can call him and see if he’ll come down now, but I wouldn’t hold my breath on that one. Or him and me can meet Ken and Barbie here tomorrow night and get that side of the deal nailed down. We do the exchange that night if he’s cool.” Stan nodded, playing it up. “What’s your take, Burnett? I don’t wanna be left holding the bag because he dropped out.” “I think he’ll deal. This last bunch left him in a jam, and if their product’s good it’ll go a long way.” He looked at the pair, his voice level. “Is your product good?” “Pure Bolivian. Run through our own processing house.” There was pride in her voice, and he saw Hoffmann nod as she spoke. “You won’t find better.” “You’d better hope not.” Sonny nodded as if deciding something. “Tomorrow night. Same place, same time. Have the product ready to move. You pick the location, so long as it’s close to water. We load it on my boat and from there you don’t think about it.” “We usually do ship to shore.” “I don’t give a shit what you usually do. This is Miami, pal. My city, my rules. We can do boat to boat if it makes you happy, but I’m not handling the product twice. Cooper’s stuff needs to go by boat, and that’s how it’ll be.” Stan nodded. “Works for us. If you don’t mind sitting on some of it for a couple of days.” “We’ll work that out between you, me, and Patch. These bozos don’t need to know that side of it.” He turned back to the pair, who were leaning back against the booth cushions like someone had slapped them. “Smile! Cooper pays top dollar. And I mean like fifty a kilo. You’ll make bank off him, and if he likes your product he’s a return customer. I’ve moved weight for him more times than I can count, and he likes steady suppliers.” He looked at his watch. “And I gotta get. You girls play nice, now.” Outside he took a series of deep breaths, forcing the cooling night air into his lungs and settling back from the vicious mood that was Sonny Burnett. He’d felt it strong this night, especially when he looked at the girl and imagined her ties to Jenny. Slipping the sunglasses in the inside pocket of his suit coat, he lit a cigarette and drew the smoke deep to take the edge off. He thought for a moment about waiting for Stan and Randy, but knew it wouldn’t work. Burnett had business, and he’d tend to that business. Crushing the cigarette out with the heel of his dark shoe, he got in the Ferrari and cranked the engine. Raising his wrist, he gave Lester a quick sign-off. “Out for the night, Lester. Stan and Randy should be out soon. You guys can knock off as soon as they’re clear.” The marina was dark and quiet. He could hear a stereo jamming some kind of pop crap off on one of the motor yachts anchored offshore, but his little corner of the world was quiet and still. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Vellamo’s spot was empty, but then remembered Jenny saying something about moving the boat to the dock at Caitlin’s House. He wondered if she’d found her way back or decided to stay at the group home with Angie. In a way he hoped she had. Burnett was still too close to the surface.

Castillo was waiting by the coffee pot when Sonny walked out. “Crockett. My office. If you’re not busy.” Sonny nodded, pouring more of the dark liquid into his cup. “On my way, captain. You want Tubbs, too?” “No. Just you.” By the time he’d topped off his cup Castillo was in his chair. Waiting. Sonny hadn’t seen him more, but there he was. Then he remembered how the man had moved going into the hospital after the kill squad Menton had sent after Trudy. Nothing Castillo might do surprised him after seeing that. “What’s up, captain?” “I want your honest assessment. How did Gina do while she was here?” Sonny sipped his coffee. He’d been expecting this, and had gone over a number of answers in his head. But in the end it came down to one thing. You had to tell Martin Castillo the truth as you saw it. He always new when you weren’t. Always. “She did good, Marty. You could tell she’d been off the streets for almost two years, though. Not that she doesn’t go in the field now, but…” “I know what you mean. The edge wasn’t there.” “Exactly. She was solid, worked well with everyone, and really tried. But…it’s different out there now. I didn’t realize that until I saw her trying to keep up. We’ve changed. All of us. And she missed out on that process.” “What about the marshals?” “Dave never stopped calling her ma’am, and Randy did too half the time. They supported her and worked well with her, but there was always this…I don’t know…feeling she didn’t belong.” Sonny leaned back in the chair, pushing his mind back to a time he’d until recently done his best to bury. “She was like a cherry in a unit back in Nam. No one wanted to get too close because they didn’t know what she’d do under fire.” He opened his eyes. “Why? Does she want to come back?” “No. I’m writing up a recommendation for her file. I wanted to know what you saw.” “She’s a good cop. I’d say she’s a better one now. She’s tempered her impulsive streak, and she’s a damned hard worker. In OCB she’d be their top detective.” “But here she’s a cherry.” Castillo nodded. “Thank you. I don’t disagree with anything you said. She’ll get a strong recommendation for promotion from me, and if you and Tubbs would be willing to sign letters of endorsement it will help a great deal. But I won’t try to bring her back.” “I don’t think she’d want that anyway, Marty. She told me as much before she left. She’s always willing to help, but…” “What we do takes a special kind of cop. A special kind of person. I have more respect for someone who admits they aren’t that person than someone who pretends to be but isn’t. And what does takes an equally special kind of person, but in different ways.” “I know. Hell, I couldn’t do what she does. I’d be up on charges inside of a week for shooting pimps or pushers.” “I’ll have draft letters for the two of you by tomorrow morning. Make any changes you like and get them back to me as soon as you can. I’d like to get this package on the chief’s desk by the end of the week if we can.” “You got it, Marty.” Sonny started to stand, but paused. “Why ask me?” “You were close to her once. You’d be the first to see any changes, and the first one aside from Stan she’d confide in. And I trust your judgement.” Back in the office Rico shot him a quizzical look. “What did Marty want?” “To ask me about Gina.” He filled Rico in. “So we should have letters to sign by the end of the day. He won’t let it sit until tomorrow.” “She deserves it. No question. That office is better with her there.” Sonny nodded, knowing what Rico left unsaid. And we’re better with her there. Who would have thought? But things change. We change. Shit, I should know that better than anyone. Rico seemed to sense his thoughts. “How’s Caitlin’s House coming?” “Good. Jenny’s finalizing the lease on her boat to the foundation today, and from what Angie was saying they should be able to start the first wave of hires in the next week or two. Gina’s involved there, so she’ll be busy screening applicants and making sure the right people get in the right places. Angie wants me involved, but I don’t know…” “You got to, but behind the scenes. Hell, Caitlin would be pissed as hell if you didn’t.” “So would Jenny.” Sonny wasn’t sure what to say next, so he just blurted it out. “You know she talks to their headstones?” Rico nodded. “Doesn’t surprise me a bit. That girl is deep, Sonny. And I mean deep. The kind your grandma went to see in the middle of the night if there was some problem she couldn’t fix on her own. You talk to them, too, don’t you?” “Yeah. I guess.” “No big thing, man. Trust me. Sometimes…sometimes it’s all we got. You know? I keep my brother’s badge close by. Some nights I’ll just say hey and let him know how things are. Maybe it’s silly, but it makes me feel better.” He snorted. “And half the people who say you’re crazy are sittin’ there in front of the TV giving their money to preachers like that Bill Bob character.” “I wonder what the hell ever happened to him and that pill-poppin’ wife of his?” “They’re either rich or in jail. Hell, maybe both. Like that Limey cat Stan tangled with over the game show.” Sonny laughed. “Phil. Yeah. Stan told me he saw him on late night TV one time pretending to be some kind of faith healer. Said he even had the dealer’s girl with him. What was his damned name?” “Rivers. That was one wired-up dude.” “And here we are now trying to pin down a couple who might be Bolivian and are running coke. Some things never change.” “Only the faces, partner. You wanna grab a bite? Then maybe go shake a tree and see if Moreno falls out. I feel like we been lettin’ that freak run around unsupervised for too long.” “Maybe we should just let the little freak make his living.” Sonny looked up from his coffee. The thought had been rolling in his head for some time, and he finally just said it. “After all the times we damned near got him killed runnin’ down some lead or another.” “Are you serious?” “Sure. Why not? Izzy’s a weird little shit. I ain’t gonna argue that. But maybe he’s paid his dues by now. And the way things are getting now…I don’t want to get the call he’s dead and have to live with that, too.” “Yeah, you may be right. Besides, the little chump always calls if he’s got something. Maybe the game’s passing him by these days.” “Wouldn’t surprise me. All the players are new.” Sonny grinned. “But I could use some chow. We got nothing but time until we get some more intel on our players.” All food did was make Sonny tired, and he was slumped in his chair fighting to stay awake when Trudy came in with a smile. “We got a hit on the guy. They’re still working the girl. Seems she’s harder to pin down. But his name’s Francisco Karl Hoffmann. And Dave was almost right. His mother was SS. One of the guards at Ravensbruck, the only concentration camp for women. His father was some kind of Nazi Party hack in Berlin. They both made it out through Italy somehow and ended up in Bolivia. Running, get this, a ‘coffee plantation’ up in prime growing country.” Sonny blinked the gathering sleep from his eyes. “So he’s just tending the family business?” “Could be. DEA’s got nothing on the family directly, but the region is known for producing high-quality cocaine. And the Hoffmann plantation is more like a fortified camp. Lots of guards and dogs. They’re sending the file over.” Rico nodded. “And you said nothing on the girl?” “Not yet. Sorry, Rico. And he’s got no sisters. The other brother minds the family farm. Looks like he made colonel in the Bolivian national police at the age of thirty and then ‘resigned’ to look after his ‘sick parents.’ At least that’s the story.” “Thanks Trudy. Keep us posted if anything else comes in. And you and Mindy get first crack at that file when it comes in. I want to know what you think of the operation. How much it can produce, where they’re tied in. A full workup.” “You got it, Sonny.” She smiled and headed back to her office. “Talk about a blast from the past.” Rico shook his head. “Who knew those cats were still around?” “We’d better run the name through Interpol and see if anything pops up.” Sonny started to reach for the phone, then stopped himself. “But that will tip the FBI. Unless…” Getting to his feet, he headed for the door. “Trudy? Have DEA run that name through Interpol. Just a routine query. It’ll take more time, but I’d rather have it go under the radar.” Rico looked up from his notes with a snort. “How long we gonna coddle those damned chumps and their cheap suits?” “Until Captain Castillo tells us otherwise.” Sonny shrugged and sat down. “I’d rather walk out there and slug ‘em myself. But that would just create headaches for Pete and Marty.” He sat for a moment, his thoughts racing. And then he smiled. “I’m gonna go talk to Marty and then maybe we can do something about those bozos.” Castillo stared at his papers until Sonny was finished talking. “There is risk,” he said after a time. “There always is, Marty. Hell, I’m the first one to admit that now. But this way we’ll know for sure. And if we do it right they won’t know that we know. I’d rather have them off somewhere else instead of just waiting to get in the way. You saw the DEA report. This kid’s the son of Nazis and connected up the ass back in Bolivia. The girl we don’t know yet, but if she’s in charge like Gina things she’s gonna be even more wired in. We can’t take the chance.” “Work with Switek and the others. Draw up a plan and bring it to me. It will be on my order in case there is any blowback.” Castillo allowed himself a thin smile. “And I do like the idea, Sonny.” Leaving the office, Sonny shouted “Huddle in the conference room! All hands!” Once they were assembled, he leaned forward, putting his hands palm-down on the table. “Listen up, ladies and gents. We’re gonna cook up a plan to fuck with the Feebs. The captain will approve it, but we need to give him the best product we can.” “What’s the objective?” Dave’s dark eyes glittered as he leaned forward. “To get those bozos, their cheap suits, and their tan Fords as far away from us as possible. And maybe have them do some good at the same time. I know they ain’t used to that, so it might be a bit of a shock to their systems.” Smiling, Sonny turned to Mindy and Trudy. “First thing we need is a target analysis. What’s the best bang for the buck here? I want to send the Feebs after something that will keep them tied up for at least a week. But it’s gotta be good. Stan, can you and Lester work up some of those audio tricks of yours? I want them to ‘hear’ us making plans on the outside line. Randy, Dave. You’ll be our bait, along with me and Rico. We’ll be doing overwatch and surveillance. But badly. Just pretend you’re them.” Dave snorted. “I might have to get blind drunk first to be that bad, but it’s worth it if it leaves them holdin’ their dicks in the middle of the street.” “With any luck we can get a target that will actually do some good. For Miami if not for them.” Trudy looked at Mindy and nodded. “We’ll get right on it. We were starting the normal threat assessment anyhow, so we’ll pull this from that product.” Rico raised his hand. “See if you can anything good relating to crack. It’s lookin’ to be the next big thing and I’d like to see my tax dollars actually accomplish something.” Trudy smiled. “I’ll see what we can come up with. The problem with crack is it’s easy to make and easy to move. Even the FBI could clean up the street corners in a couple of days. Maybe I’ll get in touch with that friend of yours from Narcotics, Sonny. On one of the clean lines.” “He’d appreciate the help. Even if he has to give up credit to the Feebs.” Sonny chuckled. “I might let him in on the deal over a beer. At least part of it, anyhow.” “So what do we do while they’re working on that?” “Make a few calls, Rico. Nothing big, but enough to make them think we’re starting in on something.” Turning, Sonny reached out and picked up the DEA file on Hoffmann. “There’s gotta be something in there that’ll lead us to the girl. Whoever the hell she is, she’s a bigger threat than he is.” “No doubt. Especially if they figure out the rules to the game. If he’s really running daddy’s product, he’s got what could be a limitless supply of top-grade coke. And maybe other stuff if they branch out.” “Yeah, and you still need coke to make crack.” Sonny glared at the picture on the front of the folder, seeing the poster boy with the blonde crew cut in his mind’s eye. “I’m gonna love taking a chunk out of him as Burnett.” “Solid. I’ll make a couple of chump calls to Metro-Dade’s property room asking about crack seizures. Give the men from Auntie something to wonder about.” He paused. “You really think old J. Edgar wore a dress?” “Rico, there are some things in life I just don’t wanna know. And that happens to be one of them.” Sonny grinned. “Head on in when you’re done yanking their chains. Maybe you’ll see something I miss.” Two hours later Sonny tossed the folder on the desk and sighed. “He’s been in and out of the country more times than Izzy’s ripped off the old guys down at the Biltmore, but DEA’s never gotten him for anything. Just a few rumors and suspicions. I think they were watching him because of what his daddy grows.” “Yeah, but the chump’s clearly been up to something. Lots of short hops in the islands and then Miami. Lauderdale mostly, if the Customs stuff is right.” “We’ll know when their file gets here. Yeah, I ain’t sayin’ the kid’s clean. He’s not. But I can’t for the life of me tell what he’s been getting dirty with.” He pointed to one of the grainy surveillance photos. “And there she is. With him every step of the way.” Rico grabbed the photo and peered at it. Then he dug in his desk and pulled out a magnifying glass. As Sonny watched he focused in on her, then pulled out a newer photo and did the same thing. “Shit!” He dropped the glass on the desk. “And double shit!” “What?” “You know how when the Ferrari gets a scratch you wet your pants and go runnin’ off to the paint and body shop? Well, that’s what this girl did. She had her damned nose changed. At least. The old picture’s too damned bad, but…” Sonny grabbed the photos and the glass and repeated Rico’s curse. “I’ll let the intel twins know. Hopefully Customs has some Port of Entry photos from their early visits. We need to be running the old picture. Because…” “You don’t change your face until someone knows who you are.” Rico finished the sentence and grinned. “What the hell tipped you off?” “Promise you won’t laugh?” “Hell, you know I can’t do that.” “Ok. The sun hat. She was wearing it down on her face like she was trying to hide something. That’s when I noticed her nose. Looks like she went a few rounds with Ali, don’t it? Then the next year, it’s all cute as a button and the hat’s gone.” “I just figured she was ducking Customs’ cameras. But you always had better fashion sense than I do.” He looked at the picture again, and his eyes narrowed. Burnett wouldn’t miss that detail. Damn! Need to channel that better. “Yeah, but when you slip into Burnett…that cat’s a sharp dresser.” “Maybe you can give the Feebs some fashion advice when we leave them in the middle of the street…how did Dave put it…with their dicks in their hands.” “No, man. You were the jock. You can get near the dudes on display. Not Rico Cooper. He’s got places to be and deals to make.” Sonny grinned and headed for the office Trudy and Mindy shared. It was technically Trudy’s office, but since Mindy had started doing intel work it was sort of a shared brain zone. “When that Customs file comes in, can you see if they have any pictures of the girl dated before this one? Rico noticed it. She at least had a nose job between that date and their visit two years ago.” Trudy nodded, making a note of the date on the scratch pad on her cluttered desk. “And Rico and you think she changed her face because she got picked up somewhere?” “Yeah. If the nose bothered her that much, why wait so long to fix it?” Thinking, Trudy chewed on the end of her pencil. “It makes sense. If they’ve been moving together the whole time. But why didn’t someone come up in his DEA file?” “I think they were just watching him because of dear old dad. No one was looking too hard or too deep once they decided he wasn’t moving the family produce.” He smiled. “How’s your project coming?” “Pretty good. I’ve been going through Metro-Dade’s intel database, and Mindy’s been hitting the marshal’s service and some DEA stuff, too. I think we’ve got a pretty good picture of what’s going on out there. We might have a couple of options for you before we close up tonight.” She smiled. “Unless it’s a rush.” “Naw. Let’s do this right. If it’s not ready tonight, morning’s fine as far as I’m concerned. I want something that will do some good but doesn’t have too much margin for collateral damage. The Feebs aren’t always careful. Plus I’d feel kinda bad if some of them got shot.” “Not sure I would.” Dave stuck his head around the office door. “Thought I might find you here, boss. Randy and I are gonna cut out for the range and get some twilight shooting in. And maybe draw off our friend outside.” He chuckled. “Got us a tan Ford with Government plates in the lot across the street. Don’t worry, boss. We’ll use our brown Ford so we fit in with the damned assholes.” “Good. See if you can get a make on them, too.” Sonny smiled to hide his annoyance. He’d hoped they had a few days before the tails started, but it looked like they wouldn’t be that lucky. “I’ll let Captain Castillo know.” Castillo stared at the folder on his desk, not trusting himself to look Sonny in the eye just yet. The arrogance of the FBI never ceased to amaze him. Even after he’d taken down some of their own, they never looked inward. Just projected their mess out at everyone around them. “Deputy Blair’s sure?” “I’d say so, Marty. He hates the FBI with a passion, and if anyone in this office could make them it would be him.” “And he just saw one?” “Yeah, but they’re like Government cockroaches. Where there’s one…” “There are more. We cannot let this interfere with our operation. And we will not let it blow any existing covers. Trudy and I will leave before you and Tubbs. See if we can draw more of them out. Have Switek start looking for their frequencies. They always have poor radio discipline.” “I’ll do that, Marty.” He could sense Sonny’s question before he asked it. “What do we do if there are more out there?” “Send Switek next. Then Franz. Maybe together. If that doesn’t work, Switek can jam their frequencies. They must not blow your cover. Or Tubbs.” “Roger that, Marty. I’ll pass the word.” Alone in his office, Castillo let his anger show on his face. He’d done a little digging during the afternoon, and if any man personified the ancient sin of hubris it was the SAC of the FBI’s Miami office. Other agencies only worked with him under protest, and he’d ruined at least six undercover operations run by other agencies in as many years chasing headlines. In at least one of those blown operations a CI had been killed. He knew Pete wanted nothing more than to break the man, but he wondered if this would be enough. He had to have friends in Washington to have survived as long as he had with such a poor record. SAC Thomas Overton was a dangerous man, but to the wrong people for the wrong reasons. Outside he could see the setting sun dying the scudding clouds red, and knew it was almost time to go. At least they’d taken the Ford in, so he didn’t have to worry about the FBI doing something stupid and damaging Trudy’s car. He stood, feeling the scar tissue pull around his lower ribs. The pain was mostly gone now, and rehab long done, but he still felt it some days. Along with his other scars, visible and invisible. He found Trudy and Mindy going through the latest activity reports from Metro-Dade’s databases. “How close are you?” he asked from the doorway. “Pretty close.” Trudy yawned. “I’d say we’ve got it down to two choices.” Mindy nodded. “That’s fair. There’s some outliers, but they wouldn’t have the impact.” “You can finish in the morning. Mindy, please leave after we do and be careful going to Tubbs’ apartment. Deputy Blair spotted some FBI vehicles outside and Trudy and I will try to draw them off. I don’t want Crockett or Tubbs to be compromised.” “Should I make other arrangements?” “No.” He saw the relief in her eyes. “I also will not let them disrupt my peoples’ lives. We’ll put some measures in place to help deal with them.” Turning, he walked the few feet to the Tech Room. Stan and Lester looked up, and he could guess from the equipment they’d been working on decoy tapes. “I know Crockett already spoke with you, but I’d like you to pinpoint the frequencies the FBI’s using. Gather what intel you can. I want to know how many of them are out there. If Trudy and I don’t draw them off…” Stan nodded. “We can knock them off the air all day, captain. But if you don’t mind I’d like to make a suggestion.” “Yes?” “Let me monitor them. Get a fix on who they have on surveillance and where they are. We’v been scanning since Dave said something, and I think we’ve picked up a total of three vehicles and a control point somewhere close by. One of the cars went after Dave and Randy…” Lester nodded. “We think another will go after you, and then the last one will follow the Roach Coach. What they don’t know is the Roach Coach has direction finding capability. We can pinpoint their surveillance control point with those roach antenna.” “Do it. I want a solid picture of what they’re doing. Then we can counter it.” Sonny came out of his office with Rico close behind. “I’d lay odds they already know about the boat, captain. Rico’s got a better chance of not being blown.” “Still, take no chances. Don’t leave until Lester gives the all-clear. That goes for both of you. Mindy might want to wait, too. They will likely blanket us eventually, but I don’t want to make it easy for them.” Trudy nodded, then caught Sonny’s eye. “I got a response from Customs on that picture, Sonny. They say they have at least three from the earlier period and they’ll send them over first thing in the morning. You guys were right. They were quick to cooperate.” Castillo nodded. ‘Good. Tomorrow we go after both our problems.” Trudy almost looked up, then caught herself. “Are they still back there?” “Yes.” Castillo smiled. “They aren’t very good. If the point was to lose them it would have happened two miles back.” He reached down and touched her thigh. “We’ll be home soon. And will not tolerate them near our home.” He heard her giggle. “That should be fun.” “But we won’t find out.” He shot a glance in the side mirror. “They’re pulling off. They just wanted to make sure we were going home.” “You think they’re watching the house?” “From near the main road, maybe. But they won’t risk getting too close. Even the FBI isn’t that foolish.” He shook his head, correcting himself. “The field agents aren’t that foolish. Their SAC is a different matter, but he’s not going to be in the field.” “Why are they doing this, Marty? We’re supposed to be on the same side.” “Yea, but the FBI is both proud and insecure. They want all of the credit when things go well, and none of the blame when it doesn’t. We’ve made them look bad simply by doing our jobs without them.” Turning onto the gravel driveway, he followed his own routine and shut off the headlights, letting the big car coast into its parking spot. “And I think there’s some history between the SAC and Chief Deputy Washington we don’t know about.” “And maybe us, too. We did make them look bad a few times when we were still with OCB.” “Very true.” Shutting off the car, he listened to the engine tick as it cooled. It also gave the various birds and insects on the property a chance to resume their chorus. If they didn’t, he knew someone else was in the area. “Mindy and I have some good…” He raised his hand. “What’s our first rule?” She smiled and kissed his upraised fingers. “Work stays at work, my love.” “As much as we can make it.” He smiled and ran his fingers along her cheek. “We must guard our time, for we never know how much we have.” “Is that another of your Hmong sayings?” “No. I got that one from an old drunk I met when I was doing relief work with Father Wajda. Before Vietnam came into my life.” “He sounds like some of the guys who used to sit on the stoops in my old neighborhood. Talking shit and wisdom in about equal measure.” She sighed. “They’re all dead now, most likely.” “We never know.” He smiled again, touching her leg. “Now let’s go in. I have some ideas for dinner. And you can play your suite again. I’d love to hear it.” Later they sat on the deck looking out over the water. The sun had finished its final dive, and they could only hear the waves crashing and sliding across the white sand. Trudy sat partly curled up on his lap, her arms around his neck. She kissed him. “Do you think Jess is out there tonight?” “It sounds like good water. I’m sure his spirt is close by.” Martin smiled. After she learned he still listened to the waves like his dead teammate had, they talked about Jess almost every night. And she’d started opening up about her brother, Andre. Gunned down in Overton for no reason anyone could ever determine. “Do you ever think of walking away from it all?” The question wasn’t unexpected. “More now than before. Do you?” “I never really did until I got shot. That…” She paused, and her arm moved so she could touch the scar. “Things changed.” “They always do, my love. I thought about it after Maynard shot me. And when the KGB came for Gretzky. And…” He paused. “More times than I care to remember.” “Why didn’t you?” “I still feel like there are things I need to do.” He kissed the top of her head, feeling her hair tickle his nose. “Not as much now. The team is so strong. But that feeling…” “I know. The one that keeps whispering you’re not done yet.” She smiled and turned her head so she could kiss him and look into his eyes. “I still get it at night. I see Andre, and he’s always telling me it ain’t done yet. Not as much now, but it’s still there.” “We’ll know when it’s time, my love. And when it is we’ll walk away.” “Together.” “Yes.” He pulled her close, feeling her warmth through his clothes. “Always together.”

They met at Rudy’s Ribs, Pete’s favorite barbecue spot, for lunch. Castillo got there first, picking a table well toward the back where he could see everyone coming in or out. Pete, looking like George Jefferson with a big afro and talking like an old-time Cracker lawman, came in minutes later. “Marty!” he shouted, spotting Castillo at once. “Glad you made it back in one piece! Honeymoons is dangerous business. Been on one or two myself.” “Pete.” Martin half-stood and shook his hand as the man sat down with a sigh and waved for the waitress. “Get my my usual, darlin’. And whatever the feller here wants. You’re smart, you’ll try the burnt ends. One of them Kansas City things I hear, but they are damend good.” Castillo nodded. “And ice tea, please.” Once the woman was gone, Pete’s whole demeanor changed. “Like I told your man Sonny earlier, we got folks sniffin’ around. I ain’t sure what kind, but I can guess. Too damned many tan Fords around the office for my taste.” “FBI. My people found a tap on our declared outside line earlier this week.” “That sounds like them. Dumb buggers can’t catch a Mafia don right under their noses, but they can hound us honest lawmen into the grave.” “What do you know?” “Not much more than you, but I got my people checkin’ around. See, the FBI an’ me go back a bit, and we ain’t never seen eye to eye. Not since they got two of my warrant people killed when they botched a raid on what they thought was a bookmaking operation. Turned out to be one of those right-wing Cuban groups. My guys got killed and then they tried to leave me holdin’ the bag.” Pete’s eyes were dark and mean. “You can bet that didn’t fly.” “No.” “But ever since they’ve had a burr up their collective asses about my office. And then we start gettin’ results thanks to your people that they’ve never seen before. I’m surprised it took them this long.” “What can we do?” “I’m meetin’ with the U.S. Attorney tomorrow. His office has made a ton of political hay out of your success, an’ I figure it’s time to remind him just how much he owes us.” “I have an operation going. I won’t have the FBI jeprodisring its success.” “That the dealer thing Sonny told me about?” Pete paused as the waitress retuned with their food. Once she left and he’d sampled his burnt ends with lip-smacking satisfaction he continued. “Stick with it, Marty. It sounds like a good bust to me. If the FBI’s got a warrant for that tap the USA’s office will squash it. If they don’t, he’ll bury them under so much shit they’ll wish they’d stuck to jerking off wise guys in the 7-11 parking lot.” He dabbed at his lips with a napkin. “And one of their agents did do that not long back. My guys got it on video while they were doing a high-risk warrant surveillance job. Damned funny if you got the time.” He looked around. “Any chance it’s some other agency?” “ATF might still be upset over that Holmes thing.” “Naw. They ate their crow an’ didn’t like it. But they’re ok. I was thinkin’ of one of those agencies that don’t exist.” Castillo shook his head. “No. I’d know, I think. And if they were we have our own version of that video. More like several videos. Those people don’t like that kind of thing getting out.” Pete laughed. “Insurance. Remind me never to play poker against you, Marty. You’d clean me out.” They finished eating in relative silence, and Martin shook Pete’s hand before they went their separate ways. “Let me know if I can be of any help.” “You just keep gettin’ me wins, Marty. I’ll handle the flack. But watch out for those FBI assholes. Until they’re called off, they will be a problem. And even after they’re called off they might kick some. Assholes don’t know when to quit.” “So we were right?” Castillo nodded. “It looks that way. Chief Deputy Washington’s meeting with the U.S. Attorney to sort things out.” He looked at his two lieutenants sitting in front of his desk. “Until he does, assume we’re under hostile surveillance and act accordingly.” Rico nodded. “I’ll let everyone know.” Castillo nodded. “Be sure Gina knows, too. They might target her, either to get to Switek or because they assume she’s part of the Task Force.” Sonny waited until Rico left the room. “So we’re at war with the Feebs?” “No. But they might think they are with us. I won’t cause an incident, but I won’t let them interfere with our operations, either.” “Got it.” Sonny rose, then turned back toward the desk. “I’m glad you’re back, Marty.” “So am I, Sonny. At least for now. I missed this place, the people. Even the job. But now there’s more to life.” “I understand completely, Marty. I really do. And you should know…Rico and Mindy might be moving in together. He’s looking into buying that place of his.” “With help from you? Good. He’s needed to put down roots for some time now. I never knew how much I did until I built that house.” “Yeah. Neither did I until I bought the Dance.” Once Sonny was gone, Castillo opened the operation folder and started reading. Sonny’s instincts had been good: there was something about the busts that seemed off. The only why that made sense to him was someone trying to set up an exclusive supply of a particular variety of cocaine. But that never worked. No serious dealer would ever try such a thing. Carlos Delgado had come close with his Red Cross heroin, but that was a special product. Bolivian cocaine wasn’t special. And with the rising demand for crack, even in Miami, coke wasn’t a winning proposition right now. Castillo read through it one more time, then closed his eyes. There was a pattern, but he wasn’t quite seeing it yet. It was something…just out of reach. Gathering up the folders he headed out to the main room. Maybe Trudy and Mindy could pick it up. Trudy looked up and smiled when he walked into her office. “Got some work for me?” “Only if you’re done briefing the others.” “I am. Gina wanted me to thank you again in case she didn’t see you before she left.” Trudy’s smile was faint. “I think she’s sad she didn’t fit in.” “She’s found her own path. And it’s a good one for her.” Castillo smiled, sending some of his own conviction to Trudy. “And this team’s been through a lot. I misunderstood that. So I share some blame for her discomfort.” “No. You’re right. She found a home in Victim Services. What we do is so much more than what we did at OCB. It’s easy to forget until you step away from it.” She reached out for the folders. “What do you have?” “Look through these and see if you can spot any kind of pattern. Bring O’Laughlin in, too. There’s something there. I’m just not seeing it.” Walking out, he turned and headed for the Tech Room. “Sergeant Switek? A moment?” Back in his office, Castillo waved Stan to a chair. “I just had a question about the meetings you’ve had with Frank and the girl. You said she never spoke?” “Not more than a couple of words at most. He was always talking. Even though she was the one calling the shots.” “I read that in the report. What else did you see?” Stan closed his eyes, and Castillo could almost see him gathering his thoughts. “They were just…off, captain. Dressed wrong. Out of place. One minute they were in the deal and the next they seemed to be making it up as they went along.” “What parts did they know?” “We didn’t get too deep into it, but he seemed most comfortable talking about moving the product. Any time we talked coke he seemed confused.” Stan snorted. “And her keeping the sample in her bra. And a damned vial! No one does that these days. I expected at least a few ounces or a brick. Not a vial out of some girl’s bra.” “Thank you. And I’d like you and Lester to come up with some ways to get around that tap on the main line.” Castillo looked up. “I understand you’ve gotten very good with trick recordings.” “Sonny told you…yeah, of course he did. He has to now.” “That was excellent work, Switek. Solid planning and execution. Crockett was very complimentary in his report.” After Stan left Castillo sat for a time in silence. Letting the pieces shift around in his mind and settle into place on their own. The bartender had cut the Hell’s Angels out on his own to make an extra buck. He understood that. But why the bikers in the first place? Or why Leo? That was a better question. He pulled the interrogation reports from each bust folder and spread them across the desk. Some were detailed, others not so much, but in every case he found what he’d been looking for. In every case but one the buy had been initiated by a small-time middleman like Leo. A bartender at a club. One of the clerks at a big waterfront hotel. The sole exception was a guy who’d been a mid-level player in the Moncado organization, but Castillo guessed that if they ran him down he’d point to some low-level guy. The report even said he’d passed it on because the quantity was too small for him to bother with. Castillo rubbed his temples with a thumb and forefinger. At first it had been for headaches, but now it was more a habit that helped him focus his thinking. Sonny was likely right about their why, but he was also right to question it. Who would try to corner something as odd as Bolivian cocaine? It wasn’t China White or some of the more exotic pot strains starting to come out of Jamaica. Sonny had been right as Burnett. Go after the supply lines, not the product. Product will come from anywhere, but it has to move. The last few pieces were starting to float into place when Trudy and Mindy came in. “I think we’ve got it, captain,” Trudy announced with a smile on her face. “It had us stumped until we took a step back. There’s a pattern, but it’s not a narcotics pattern.” “Explain.” Mindy took up the narrative, her eyes bright. “Say you’re a new fence in town. You want to corner the market on stolen car stereos. What do you do? Set up your competition. Send guys in with hot goods and then tip off the cops. It doesn’t work with narcotics, but it’s damned effective with stolen goods.” Castillo nodded. The last pieces clicked into place. “They’re outside their area of expertise.” “Exactly.” Trudy smiled. “They’re using tricks from whatever they did before, and mixing in stuff from bad TV cop shows.” “Switek said that about the cocaine vial in the bra.” Castillo nodded, remembering the exact expression on Stan’s face. “So where did they come from? And why cocaine?” “We got a report back from the marshals’ office linguistics people. It confirms what Gina thought. The accent’s most likely Bolivian. So they’re just turning to what they have easy access to. As to what they did before…” Trudy shook her head. “I don’t think we know enough quite yet. We need to see them in action. And that’s three days away.” Mindy looked at the last report. “We do know one thing, though. They recognized Burnett’s name. They must at least know people in the transportation side of narcotics. If I heard it all right, Sonny’s never had his cover work much else.” “No, but there is movement between people who run narcotics and those who deal in other stuff. Especially the old-timers.” Trudy looked at the reports again. “Maybe they’re tied in on that side somehow.” “They’re amateurs at narcotics.” Castillo felt the last piece slide into place. “Almost every one of their contacts for the deals have been the kind of small-timers a tourist would look for. Bartender. Desk clerk. But they’re starting to attract attention. We need to shut them down before they touch off a war. If it wasn’t for crack they might have already.” He looked up at his two intelligence officers and smiled. “Good work. See if there’s anything we can use to track them back now that we have an idea what we’re dealing with. And bring the rest up to speed, too. They need to know what they’re dealing with.” Sonny shook his head. “Amateurs?” Trudy nodded. “At least with narcotics. I think they know just what the hell they’re doing when it comes to moving stuff. But not drugs. Mindy told me about what you said. Why do stealth when speed’s more cost-effective?” “Unless it’s what you know. Guns. People. Exotic animals. All that stuff takes stealth. Bigger cargo. Harder to hide. You gotta sneak it in. Drugs? Just open the damned engine wide when you’re near the coast and take your chances.” Rico grinned. “Solid. And we got a couple of days to narrow it down. I just wish we knew more about their MO. How they moved. We know they use a small boat to get the stuff ashore, always from a bigger boat out on the water.” “But either the interrogators didn’t ask the right questions or the bozos they busted don’t know a rowboat from an aircraft carrier. We got nothing on the mother ship, and they’re using a damned Zodiac inflatable. You can buy those at damned Walgreen’s these days.” Trudy shook her head. “Maybe we’ll get a hit on those photos.” “Not if the Feebs get involved.” Sonny felt a bolt shoot down his back. “Shit! We gave those idiots a clear look at what we’re doing! That damned club will be surrounded by morons in suits from Sears driving tan Fords.” “You can thank Mindy later. She ran the photos through the marshals’ service stuff with a ‘do not share’ tag. Same with DEA. Those are the only two agencies who got them, and DEA here has had their run-ins with the local FBI field office, too. Seems those boys just don’t play well with others.” Sonny looked at Rico. “Kiss her good for me, partner. She might have just saved our collective asses.” “It does mean the search will go slower. But there’s still a chance we might get a hit.” Sonny looked down for a moment. “Customs still owes us a favor, right?” “More like twenty.” “Good. Darlin’, see if they can run the photos. At least the guy’s. He might not be in charge, but he’s the face of the two. Maybe they’ve had run-ins with them at some point.” “I’ll tag the photos for them, too. But they’re still basking in the glow of those big coke busts you fed them courtesy of the late and unlamented Tico Moncado. I can’t see us having any problems there.” “You think they’ll hit there?” “I don’t know, Rico. But I do know who I can talk to if they do.” “Jenny?” “Joo got it, meng. I don’t want to get her involved, but smuggling was her life not too long back. She might know some people.” “Be careful there, partner.” “I know, Rico. Trust me. But something from her past’s got her worked up, and if this helps her put that to rest I’m all for it.” “So you’re the transportation guy. What does their MO tell you?” “Like I said, guns. Big stuff. And they don’t trust their clients. Or at least not most of ‘em. That’s the only reason I can think of you’d want to use a Zodiac like that. It’s easier to just dock and unload. But if you don’t trust who you’re dealing with, you only lose maybe one person and a boat you can replace in hours.” “You ever do that with Burnett?” “With the Manolos? Naw. No need. With that kind of money a Cigarette boat is a Zodiac. You lose one, you buy three to replace it. And you can always find punks who like fast boats and will take the risk for whatever you pay them. That was the math. You send six boats. The Coasties get one, that’s five that got through with say one hundred keys each. You lose a hundred, you gain five hundred. Damned good odds to me. Even better if the drivers bring their own boats. Then you’re just paying bail and maybe replacement cost for the boat. But you get the driver for life.” Rico whistled. “No wonder you had those boys by the short hairs.” “Part of it was Cliff. He was a damned evil genius at that stuff. Greedy little bastard, but good with the transportation math.” Sonny shook his head, trying to clear the old, bad memories. “But yeah, these two don’t fit that model at all. They might be good smugglers, but they didn’t start with narcotics. I’d bet the Dance on that.” “And you smelled that early on.” “Yeah, but it was the why that got me. Still does. Something must have pushed them out of their old gig. Maybe I’ll check in with Atkins up in Lauderdale again and see if he’s got anything that might fit the profile. But them blundering around…Marty’s right. They’re lucky they haven’t started a war yet.” “They damned near did. With Stan and the Hell’s Angels.” “Yeah, though that might have been Leo’s doing alone.” “Stan’s right about that chump. He ain’t smart enough. He just made the call and they flipped the switch once he told ‘em what he had.” “Yeah. Dave’s tape proves that. They were just lucky the Angels decided to take on Stan and Randy instead. But sooner or later they’re gonna set up the wrong bunch.” “Unless we get them first.” “Yeah.” Sonny got up from behind his desk. “I don’t know about you, partner, but I’m thinking it’s beer-thirty. Maybe we can convince Marty to go and get the low-down on this mountain hideaway Angie found.” It was well after dark when Rico’s key hit the front door of Casa Cooper. He stepped in, feeling the jazz before he heard it and seeing Mindy’s figure on the couch in the dim light from one of the uprights in the corner of the room. “Sorry, lady. Sonny and Marty got to talking…” “Marty talks?” She tuned and smiled. “And I don’t mind. We had our little huddle with Trudy, so it makes sense the boys would want theirs, too.” “Yeah, Marty talks. Not much, but he puts more into one word than I can in ten. Maybe twenty.” Hanging up his jacket, he walked to the couch and sat down, putting his arm around Mindy and feeling her slide up against him. “It was good, though. I think he’s glad to be back, but he does miss the mountains.” “Trudy said it was beautiful. To hear her talk they just ran around the woods naked the whole time.” “Marty didn’t get into that kind of detail, but he looks better than he has in years. Actually rested.” Rico leaned back against the couch, feeling the cushions take his weight. “The amount of stress that man carries always amazed me. I ain’t that strong.” “It is good to have Trudy back, though. She still hurts, but she’s coming back strong.” Mindy shook her head. “I never thought it would be her.” “Neither did I. Marty told me again tonight that it wasn’t my fault. But there’s times…” “I know. You wake up shouting her name.” Rico shook his head. “Sorry. I didn’t…” “It’s ok. I can’t imagine what that must have felt like. I still see him some nights in my dreams. It was like he was dead but somehow walking.” Rico leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “So you missed Trudy?” “Yes. Gina’s nice, but she’s not Trudy. Trudy’s just so good with that stuff. Part of it’s the training, but the rest…” “Trudy’s got street skills. Just like Stan does. I did in New York, but I ain’t got no game here. And Sonny? He’s a swamp redneck out of water most days. And he’ll admit it if you ask him. But those two? They grew up on those streets. Lester, too, I think. He don’t talk about it much, though. Gina spent most of her time in Little Havana, I think.” “Gina’s great with those girls, though. She can really talk to them.” “She’s been through some of the same things. It lets her connect with them. Marty did a good thing when he arranged that position for her. And now she’s got Caitlin’s House to work with, too.” She looked around the apartment and smiled. “I…I moved some of my things in. I hope…” “About damned time, lady. I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten cold feet.” He debated telling her about Sonny’s offer and decided to hold off. Don’t want her to feel like I’m pushing at all. “Yeah, there’s plenty of closet room and all that in this little hut of mine.” “You’re not kidding! The master suite closet is almost the same size as my apartment.” “Yeah. Same with my last place. Ever since I’ve moved down here I’ve been bouncing form cheap hotels to cheaper apartments. Last one even had a crack dealer workin’ out of the first floor. And I couldn’t bust him because of my cover.” He chuckled. “But I did drop a dime ten seconds after I moved out. He ain’t doin’ so well now from what I understand.” Mindy giggled. “I figured you would have been in this place for years.” “Naw. Metro-Dade was always cheap on covers. Sonny had the boat because he was supposed to be a boat guy, and he was first in line. Me? I never got to the middle of the line let alone the front. Never occurred to anyone upstairs that it looks damned odd for a high-end money guy to be living in a rat-infested shoebox.” He looked into her eyes and smiled. “And you look like you’re ready for a little TLC.” “Maybe.” She blushed and looked down. “But I’ve been having bad thoughts about you.” “Then maybe a spanking’s in order.” He grinned and kissed her, feeling her press herself against him. “After you show me what those bad thoughts were.” Sonny sat in the stern seats of the St. Vitus Dance, looking at the glowing red tip of his Lucky Strike. Taking a last drag he tossed it over the side, imagining he could hear the hiss as it hit the water. Tonight had been good. Marty was in better spirits than he’d seen in years, and his mind seemed cleared and refreshed. Sonny wished he could say the same about his. Maybe it was time he did himself a favor and took some time off. Not the mountains, though. He hated feeling closed-in. Maybe just take the boat out with Jenny and go where the wind took them. It was so much easier without Elvis. Just undo the lines and go. “Aren’t you coming down?” She looked like a tan ghost in the gangway, every curve of her naked body highlighted by the moon. “In a minute, darlin’. Just finished my last cigarette of the day.” He smiled. “Trudy wanted me to say hello. They came back today.” She was up the stairs in two steps, and as always her body took his breath away. “They’re back? And you didn’t tell me?” “They just got back today. Or yesterday, I guess, but we didn’t know until this morning. They both look good. I was actually out with Marty and Rico just now. We had a drink at The Sanctuary and just talked.” He shook his head. “You know, I think that’s the first time in over five years we’ve done that. Just the three of us. He’s usually all business.” “He has a life now. And he wants to let people in it.” She smiled, sitting in his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’ve never known him when he had a life outside of work.” He kissed her neck, smiling she she gave a little moan and giggle. “You know, you’re right again, darlin’. But they both wanted me to say hello. Trudy said she’d stop by tomorrow after work to catch up. I think she wants to tell you all about the mountains.” “I told her she had to.” “You knew where they were going?” “No, silly. Angie didn’t tell anyone. But I told Trudy she had to let me know how things went. She was worried after she’d been shot. That he might not find her pretty with that scar.” “Marty isn’t like that.” “That’s what I told her. But she had to be sure.” “Yeah, I can understand that. Trudy’s always been worried about people judging her.” “It will be good to see her. But right now I want to see you. Below decks.” Sonny nodded, still debating in his heart if he should ask her now. “What is it? I can see the question in your eyes.” “I should have known.” He threw up his arms and then kissed her again. “We’re working a case that might involve smugglers. Not drug smugglers, though. They don’t act right. If you’re ok with it, I might ask you some questions tomorrow about how you used to do your job.” “Sure. That part of my life is done. I don’t mind sharing.” She smiled as her fingers moved to the zipper of his linen pants. “Which is what you’re going to do soon, either up here or below.” Now that the damned fax machine was someone else’s responsibility, Sonny actually looked forward to heading for the office. Rico wasn’t in yet, so he settled in behind his desk with a cup of coffee and reached for one of the files in his in-basket. Jenny was meeting with Angie and the lawyers to hammer out the last details in the lease agreement for Vellamo, so he knew she’d be happy once he finally made it back to the boat. When she was busy she didn’t worry as much. He was still flipping through an interoffice update on the rise in crack sales in Miami when Rico waltzed in. “Anythin’ exciting in the stack there?” he asked, unbuttoning his Armani jacket and grinning. “Damn. Keep forgetting to keep the left side close. Shoulder rig takes some getting used to after all those years with a hip holster.” “Maybe you can get one for the Walther. Dave and Randy both use ‘em religiously for their .45s. I just like the shoulder rig.” “I’ll do that. And you look like you’re waitin’ in the dentist’s office.” “Damned close, Rico.” Sonny closed the folder with a snap. “Just more about that crack stuff. It’s hitting Overton hard and starting to spread out.” “Damn. Metro-Dade can barely keep up with coke. How they gonna handle this?” “God knows. But I’m tryin’ to stay up on it. Just in case we get called in.” He smiled and changed the subject. “You got Mindy moved in yet?” “Close, I think. She’s takin’ her time, but I don’t blame her. And I’m not gonna push.” “What did you tell me? Just let it ride.” “Yeah. I say some stupid shit sometimes.” Rico grinned and put his feet up on the desk. “Castillo been by yet?” “No, and I know he’s here. His door’s been closed since I got in at eight. That’s never a good sign.” “Maybe we’d better start workin’ out how Burnett is gonna get Cooper invited to the dance. If these two are amateurs to the drug game, we might have to switch it up a bit.” “Yeah. I’m thinking so. Hell, I’m not even sure they speak the language.” Sonny rubbed his chin, feeling the stubble under his fingers. “First I wanna see just how hungry they are. How much weight they want to move for real. If forty’s really all they can handle we might have to rethink the approach. But if forty’s all their first contacts could handle, we got a shot with Cooper for sure.” “You call your pal in Lauderdale yet?” “No. Thanks for reminding me.” Reaching out, Sonny selected one of Stan’s rerouted numbers and dialed. “I just hope Atkins doesn’t freak out when he sees he’s being called by a pay phone outside a club in South Beach.” Someone picked up on the fourth ring. “Yeah? Who’s this?” “Atkins! It’s Sonny Crockett. Sorry for the funky number, but we got a situation down here. Anyhow, you got any smugglers up there who might have started branching out?” “I told you, Sonny…we’re up to our necks in crack.” “Not coke smugglers, pal. Anything else. Guns, people, booze. Bulk stuff that’s hard to move fast.” “I don’t know, but I can find out. Might take a day or so.” “Thanks.” Sonny read off the car phone number. “Call me there. It’s got a message system, so hit it day or night. Thanks, pal.” “Dry hole?” “He’s gonna look. It’s not his usual beat, but they’re a small department up there compared to Metro-Dade. Give him a day or two and we’ll know if he’s got anything or not.” Rico nodded. “Mindy thinks it’ll take about that long for us to hear back from DEA and the marshals, too. Customs might be quicker, but they don’t have as much information.” “Which means if anyone knows squat we’ll find out a few hours before the meet goes down. At best.” Sonny grinned. “So we’ll be wingin’ it again, partner.” “Just like the old days.” “Yeah, except I won’t go charging off half-cocked down some damned alley in the middle of the night.” Rico raised his coffee cup in a mock-toast. “To the new old days, then!” Sonny grinned. “You got that right.” He raised his own cup and took a swig of lukewarm coffee. “Damn. I need a refill.”

“I think I got something.” Sonny looked up from his report and saw Lester standing in the doorway of Castillo’s office. It was just before noon, and he’d been reading the same damned paragraph for the last twenty minutes. “What’s up?” “We’ve got someone listening in. It’s on the original outside line, and not on the new stuff Stan and I added.” “The stuff no one else knows about.” Sonny finished Lester’s thought. “Any idea how long it’s been there?” “Not long. Maybe a week or two.” He looked at a log book. “Stan and I were checking from time to time more to stay in practice. Our last sweep was two and a half weeks ago and it was clear then.” “Thanks. Let the others know and have Rico swing in. And Lester? Good work. Let Stan know, too.” Rico sauntered in moments later. “So we got a bug in the house I hear.” “Yeah. The original outside line.” Sonny closed the report folder with a snap. “Lester says the others are clean. Just the one.” “He have any idea…” Rico shook his head. “Naw, they wouldn’t, would they?” “Know who did it? Not unless they left a ‘compliments of the FBI’ card tied to the damned thing. I don’t think they actually found the physical tap. Just evidence it’s there.” “And if we pull it, then they know we know and they get sneakier.” “Yeah.” Sonny grinned. “I could just make Hoover jokes on the line and see if those damned tan Fords show up outside.” “Yeah, but like you said they’d just go looking for more.” Rico scratched his chin through his trimmed beard. “Any chance we can find out if there’s a warrant?” “If it’s the Feebs it’ll be sealed, and again they’d just know we’re on to them.” Sonny leaned back and sighed. “No, I think I’ll wait for Marty to get back tomorrow and brief him on it. He’s got way more experience dealing with the Feds than we do. We know how to piss ‘em off, but not how to navigate this kind of crap.” “You still want to do the deal tonight?” “I can’t see us having a choice. We bail now, we lose those two maybe for good. But we might have to dangle Burnett and Cooper in front of those two bozos sooner than we’d planned.” “Yeah, I can see that. If those chumps are our people, they’ll rat out Biggs and Patch right after the deal goes down. And we need to give ‘em a reason not to.” “And I need a reason to avoid this damned file.” Sonny got up from behind the desk. “Let’s go see if our two bikers have any ideas.” Stan looked up from the microphone he was working on. “We could always say one of our guys up north got busted and we can’t move as much product. That would let me get Burnett in, and then you could dangle Cooper in front of them.” Sonny nodded. “It’s workable. What’s your take? You think they’ll fall for the money trap?” “Only dealer I’ve ever seen who wouldn’t was that Delgado cat. And he was a freak of nature.” Stan chuckled. “Dealers as just genetically greedy. It’s what they know.” “Even this new breed?” “Maybe more so. It’s not guesswork like it was back when we took down Calderone’s people. Hell, they know how much is out there for the taking now. And they also know how short the lifespan can be. They want to grab it while they can.” “Yeah. That’s how I roped in some of those bozos back when I was Burnett.” Sonny smiled, hiding the pain of the memory. “Thanks, Stan. I think that’s how we’ll play it. But with no number we’ll have to go with the meet anyhow.” “Been thinkin’ about that, too. Leo gets ahold of those two somehow. Maybe we can use him.” “That or just risk the face time.” Sonny shook his head. “It’s your call, big guy.” “We’ll do the meet.” Stan didn’t hesitate. “Leo’s squirrelly on the best days, and those two didn’t look like they’d do well with a phone call. They might figure we’re ducking them. Randy and I will meet them, spring our news, and say we got someone lined up who could do the whole run at once. I’ll call you, you can do your big, bad Burnett act and dangle Rico in front of them.” “Sounds good.” Sonny turned to go and then stopped in the doorway. “You look tired, Stan. Maybe you should grab a nap before this kicks off. Long night?” The big man’s cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink. “You could say that. And that’s good idea. I’ll finish this up and grab some z’s.” Back in Castillo’s office, Sonny went about reviewing the morning faxes and generally tidying up the place. He didn’t want to leave a mess for Marty, or routine things undone. As he worked, he wondered where they’d been and hoped they’d enjoyed the time away. He’d given Angie instructions to spend whatever she needed to make it happen. Martin Castillo let his big Ford glide into his parking space as usual, looking over and smiling at Trudy in the passenger seat. Trudy Castillo he thought, shutting off the car and listening to the engine tick as it cooled. It’s an adjustment I’m happy to make. She seemed to read his mind. “Now I know how Gina felt.” She smiled and repeated it. “Trudy Castillo. I like it. No, I love it. Let’s get inside, honey. I have a tune I want to work on.” The house waited quietly for them. He knew Sonny and the others had looked in from time to time, and the alarm system was still working as designed. And it was good to be back. Good to be home, he reminded himself. It really was home now. The wedding had been just as Trudy imagined it, complete with flowers and Gina and Jenny serving as dual maids of honor. He’d met her family for the first time, struck by how much she looked like her mother. They’d been in awe of him at first, but soon enough they’d started joking and smiling. And he could tell it meant the world to her, which made him happier than he could explain. And the honeymoon. Angie had outdone herself. She’d looked at them both and said “Leave it to me black man an’ sista. Angie take care of you good.” And she had. He’d half-expected something tropical, but Angie had gotten them a cabin in the high mountains of Montana. Far away from everything except each other. “You need your time,” she explained as she handed them keys and directions. “Where no fools can bother you. You take care of sista, black man. You don’t, Angie will know and whup your ass.” Lost in his thoughts, Martin smiled when he heard the piano. He knew she’d been working on something since the end of the wedding, but any time he asked she just brushed him away. “You’ll find out when we get back, my love,” she’d said each time. And soon enough he stopped, content to watch the stars blazing in the clear mountain air with an intensity exceeding what he’d seen in the highlands of Laos and Thailand. And they’d even gone in and come out by helicopter, another reminder of his past. At least they’d have tonight. Tomorrow he’d be back at work, trying to catch up on everything they’d missed. And she’d be back trying to read the minds of men who thought of nothing but themselves. But at least for tonight they’d have each other without sharing one more time. Walking into the living room he found her at the piano, the notebook open on its top. She’d dropped her shirt just inside the doorway and was playing with her eyes closed, letting the music flow from her mind to her fingers and into the keys. The moment engraved itself in his mind, her playing so vulnerable yet secure, tempting him with her music and her body in the same moment. It had been like that the entire time they’d been away, and he was glad to see it continuing. The last note echoed off the walls of the room. She opened her eyes and turned to smile at him. “What do you think?” “It was beautiful. And you are beautiful, my love.” He said the words in Vietnamese. “Does it have a name?” “Yes.” She smiled then looked down. “Promise you won’t be angry.” “I could never be angry with you.” “It’s Jess and Andre’s Suite.” “That’s perfect. You captured them both, I think. The hope and sadness. The flow of the ocean and the power of the engine. It’s all there, my love.” “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about Jess.” “It’s perfect,” he repeated. And it was. Somehow she’d combined jazz and classical into something deeper, more powerful. He’d never heard a piece like it before. “Come and sit by me.” He settled onto the piano stool, feeling her warm body next to him. The purplish scar left by the bullet was fading, but he knew it would always be there. Like his were. To him it just made her more beautiful, even though he knew she was self-conscious about it. “Could you play it again? Then we can go out and listen to the waves and see if Jess approves.” He got up and opened the patio door. “There. Now they can hear it, too. It seems selfish to keep it to ourselves.” “Are you ready to go in tomorrow?” “As ready as you are.” He smiled. “I know you missed it.” “Mostly when I was on bedrest.” She slapped his arm. “In the hospital, silly. Not with you. Anyhow, I missed letting my brain work.” “I understand.” He smiled, listening to the music flow around them. Feeling the spirits of the place nodding their approval. He’d gotten closer to them back in the mountains, away from everything but Trudy and himself. Even his headaches had disappeared by the end of the first day. “And that suite is beautiful. I know they love it. Both of them.” She smiled, a single tear tracing a shining line down her cheek. “I love you so much, Marty. All those years we missed…” “We didn’t miss anything. We got to know each other. As people. It makes us more complete. It’s a very special thing. I’m very thankful for it.” “You’re right.” She smiled. “Now let’s go listen to the waves.” She stepped out of her loose skirt. “And you’re overdressed.” “Not for long.” His clothes joined hers on the floor in seconds. “Ready when you are, my love.” “Ready when you are, guys.” Stan raised his wrist as though he was checking the time, speaking into the watch. “Give me a blinkeroo if you’re ready.” Across the street the hazards on the Roach Coach kicked on and off. “Got ya. We’re goin’ in.” Turning he nodded to Randy. “Let’s get this party started.” “Roger that.” Randy swung his leg over the gas tank of his Harley. “Sooner the better as far as I’m concerned.” Stan nodded. The address Frank had given them was one of the new dance clubs on the edge of Wynwood. Not the kind of place bikers usually frequented. Still, he figured the door policy would be loose and no one would look too closely under their jackets. Which was a good thing. No way in hell he was walking into this one unarmed. The sign flashed something he couldn’t read in shades of neon that looked like a kid had puked after eating six flavors of cotton candy and taking one too many turns on a carnival ride. The doorman looked them up and down, shrugged, and let them pass with no comment. Inside it was just what he expected: music too loud, a recycled disco ball from some closed roller disco rink sending reflections bouncing all over hell and gone, too many underage girls wearing too little, and a bar near the far wall which would charge too much for drinks that were mostly ice and promises. Randy leaned in. “What the hell is this?” he shouted over the pounding bass. “Someone’s nightmare. Or kids having fun. Ain’t sure which,” Stan shouted back, keeping his wrist well away to keep from blowing the mic. “Keep an eye out for them.” Randy nodded, and Stan went back to scanning the crowd the best he could through the damned disco ball and strobe lights. “Got ‘em,” he shouted. “Far end of the bar.” Frank was wearing what looked like the same business suit, but the girl had changed it up. Her skirt was shorter, the heels higher, and her top clung to her like it had been painted on. Stan looked again. Judging from her nipples he figured it was painted on, but in the erratic light it was hard to tell. Frank nodded as they got close. “Outside. Easier to talk.” “Ya fuckin’ think?” Stan looked at Randy and nodded. Like we have any choice. He kept his hand close to the right side of his jacket, ready to draw the Browning at the first hint of trouble. They went out the back door. The club opened onto an empty lot that in turn butted up against a convenience story and one or two other buildings that could have been apartments or offices. Frank nodded. “Much better. But we had to be sure no one was following you.” Stan looked around. “Looks cool, Patch.” Randy nodded. “So let’s get down to it. We can only take the lower quantity right now.” Frank looked at the girl, and Stan noticed the subtle glance that passed between them. “That isn’t what you said before.” “That was before we found out two of our guys got rolled up by the damned pigs back in the Panhandle. We can only handle so much between the two of us.” Stan shook his head, playing it up. “There is a dude I know who might be able to help out. Been a bit since I talked to him last, though.” The girl moved, and he smiled inside. Not a paint job, just really sheer silk. Nice. Good distraction for some. “We have already arranged for the higher quantity. These things cannot be changed easily.” “Then I’d better give this guy a call. All he does is transportation, so it should be a no-brainer for him.” The girl shot Frank another quick look. “The name?” “Oh? You mean the dude? Sonny…yeah…that’s it. Sonny Burnett.” “I know that name.” “Well I’m sure he’ll be damned flattered. It’s been a bit since I talked to him last, though. He don’t work the Panhandle, and that’s where I’ve been.” Stan dug in his jeans pocket. “Lemme get a quarter and I’ll give him a call. You cool to wait with our friends, Patch? There’s a pay phone at the front of this dump.” “We can all go.” Frank waved his hand. “I want to make sure it is Burnett you call.” “Hell, moron. I ain’t callin’ the cops. But if it makes you happy, be my guest.” Stan turned and headed for the phone, trusting Randy to cover his back. Making a show of digging a slip of paper out of his oversized wallet, Stan dropped the quarter in the slot and called one of the Roach Coach’s mobile numbers. Stan tried not to laugh when Sonny picked up on the third ring. “Burnett.” “Hey, Sonny! This is Biggs. We ran about two hundred pounds of Jamaica’s finest about two years back. Remember?” “Big biker bastard? Yeah. I remember you. What’s up?” “Look, man, I need someone to help move some product. Damned good stuff, but not my usual line, you know? Two of my boys got picked up, and me and Patch might get left holding the bag. I’ll give you a ten percent cut.” He could hear Sonny chuckling on the other end of the line. “How much we talking?” “Forty keys.” “A bit small for me these days, but we do go back a bit. I’ll do it. When and where?” Stan put his hand over the receiver. “He’s good. We can do the full forty.” Frank looked at the girl, trying to pretend he was looking at her tits instead of into her eyes for his next line. “Ok. The product will be ready in four days. Meet us here again at the same time. And bring this Burnett with you.” Nodding, Stan lifted his hand. “The sellers are jackin’ us around a bit, but it’ll be cool. Four days from now. I’ll call you first. They want to meet you. Some lame-ass dance club down in Wynwood. We can have a beer and I’ll get you your cut.” “Give ‘em hell, Biggs.” There was a click, and the dial tone filled Stan’s ear. “Ok, Frank. You and your bitch here got a deal. I don’t like hangin’ around here for four days, but if that’s what it takes that’s what it takes.” He jabbed a finger in Frank’s direction. “Just don’t fuck with me, man.” Randy sighed. “Ya gotta excuse Biggs. The guys that got busted are old friends of his. Me? I didn’t know ‘em that well. But I agree about Miami. It’s high time we headed for fresh places. But I gotta get that money invested. We’ll see you in four days.” Back at the bikes, Randy looked at Stan and grinned. “I want to know what the damned deal is with that girl.” “You and me both, buddy. But making the call did do one good thing.” Randy followed Stan’s gaze and grinned. “Got ‘em in the open and in good lighting. I’ll bet Dave got some good shots. And not just of her tits.” “Yeah.” Stan looked back, noticing the two had already disappeared. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” Taking their usual roundabout route, Stan and Randy got back to the office after the rest had settled in. Sonny looked up as they walked in and grinned. “And yes, Dave did take pictures of something other than her tits.” Mindy chuckled. “I hope so. Otherwise I’d have to tell Debbie.” “Now that just ain’t playin’ fair.” Dave laughed and then turned serious. “I did get good facial shots on both of them. Don’t know that it’ll do much good, but we can run ‘em and see what pops up.” Rico nodded. “When he said he knew Burnett’s name, how did he look?” Stan wrinkled his forehead as he thought back. “Just like it was a name he’d heard somewhere. She got tense, though. I think it meant something to her, but she’s damned good at hiding expressions.” “No shit she is.” Randy sat down and opened the can of Coke he’d pulled from the office fridge. “Girl could be a damned store dummy half the time. But she doesn’t miss a thing. Those eyes are always movin’.” Sonny nodded. “We got a few days in hand now. You two lay low. At least as Patch and Biggs. Marty should be in tomorrow morning, I mean this morning.” He looked at his watch. “I’ll bring him up to speed. Mindy, see if you can get those photos rushed and sent out for ID first thing. And I’d say we’re done for the night. Have your reports ready for Captain Castillo as soon as you can tomorrow.” Gina was still awake when Stan walked into the apartment’s living room, sitting on the couch watching late night TV. “How’d it go?” she asked, jumping up and kissing him. “Good. We got four days now. Castillo will be back tomorrow, and Trudy too I’d guess.” He looked down into her deep brown eyes. “You gonna come in to say hello?” “I should. I want to hear about the honeymoon, and thank Marty for the chance he gave me to fill in.” She smiled. “It’s not for me, but it was fun. And speaking of fun, I’ve been doing nothing but thinking about you since eight tonight, mister. Lock that door and let’s go to bed.” Martin Castillo looked in the bathroom mirror, making sure his pencil-thin black leather tie lined up perfectly with the buttons on his white shirt. He could hear Trudy moving around in the kitchen, finishing the last of her green tea and putting the cup in the sink. He hated leaving the house, but part of him had missed work. He knew himself well enough to admit that fact. Trudy looked up as he came out of the back rooms, her smile bright and the red dress clinging to her body like a glove. “I must have lost weight up in the mountains,” she announced with another smile. “It’s been a year or so since I could wear this one.” “And you look beautiful as ever, my love.” He kissed her gently on the lips. “But we’d better go if we want to get there on time.” The Challenger roared to life as soon as Trudy turned the key. “I wouldn’t worry about getting there on time,” she said with a sly smile. “I did miss the driving in the mountains.” “And I missed watching you drive.” He smiled as she pulled out of the garage and let the car crawl over the dirt track leading to the main road. He knew as soon as she hit pavement she’d turn the car loose. And she did just that, the tires squealing and the V-8 responding with a roar as they shot up toward the expressway. The ride up to the tenth floor was quiet. He could feel her unease, and reached over to squeeze her hand. She hadn’t really been back since she’d been wounded, making it almost three months since she’d been in the task force offices. He remembered his own recovery, and coming back was never easy. But she wasn’t doing it alone. Mindy met them with a smile and a hug. “How was the honeymoon? Wait, you can tell me later. Gina, too. She’s waiting to see both of you.” Castillo nodded, almost overwhelmed by the emotion in Mindy’s voice. “It’s good to be back. I expect Crockett has a briefing for me?” “He does, captain. It’s been…” He could see her searching for a word. “Strange the last week or so. He’ll explain.” Gina, Stan, and Lester jumped up from their seats at the conference table. “Welcome back!” Gina said, coming around and hugging Trudy. “Come on, girl. I want to hear all about it. Mindy, too. You boys can talk shop.” She paused in front of Castillo. “Marty, I just wanted to thank you for the opportunity here. I’ll be going back to Victim Services, but I was glad to help out where I could.” “You’re welcome any time, Gina.” He smiled, touching her hand. “I understand this isn’t for you. There’s no shame in that. What you do is just as hard, but in different ways. And those girls need both of us doing what we do best. You excel there. Go back to them. I’m sure they need you, even if they won’t admit it.” She blinked, nodded, and turned back to Trudy. Gathering himself, Castillo turned to Stan and Lester. “Where’s Crockett? And Tubbs?” “Waiting in your office, captain. They’ve got the briefing ready.” When Castillo walked in it was like he’d never left. Crockett and Tubbs sat in the chairs in front of his desk, reports neatly arranged in a line on its flat top. “Welcome back, captain,” Sonny said with a smile. “And am I glad you’re back. I even unplugged that damned fax machine to celebrate.” “I gotta know, Marty. Did Angie send you to Thailand? Someplace tropical?” “No.” Martin paused for a moment, then smiled. “Montana. She got us a cabin in the middle of the mountains. It was beautiful. Just what we needed.” Sonny shook his head. “That girl knows her stuff. Out away from everyone and everything? Perfect.” “It was. We needed the time. And the space.” He wanted to go on, but couldn’t find the words. Not even with these two men. “What do we have?” “Two things. And I don’t like either one of them.” Sonny filled him in on the operation they’d picked up. “We’ve got searches going now on the photos,” he finished. “But the fact it we don’t know squat about these two other than they like to rat out the middlemen once they make a deal and the product’s delivered.” “Your plan’s sold. Stay with it.” Castillo felt his brain slipping back into work mode with a practiced ease. “You said there were two things.” Rico nodded. “Yeah, and it’s the second one you won’t like. Sonny fielded a call from Pete early last week sayin’ someone was, in his words, ‘sniffin’ around’ about us. Nothing since then. And yesterday Stan and Lester found a tap on the original outside line.” “And you haven’t spoken with Pete?” Sonny shook his head. “That’s on me. I thought he was talking about the AUSA at first, since we’d had a shooting involving Randy and Stan. But now I don’t think that’s what he meant. Mindy said one of her contacts let her know something’s up, and so did one of Dave’s. But they don’t know what.” Castillo nodded, letting his brain slide over the possibilities. “What do your guts tell you?” “Either the Feeds or ATF. I’d put my money on the Feebs.” Rico nodded. “Only the FBI’s got that kind of reach. There’s a long shot it’s the Company, but tapping our phones just don’t seem like their style.” “No.” Castillo shook his head. “They’d bomb the office. And if they were up to something I’d hear about it.” “That’s what we figured. And we’ve done some solids for ATF before that whole Holmes show.” Rico looked at the files. “The FBI’s the only bunch we don’t have a line on. And we’ve beaten them to the punch at every turn since we started.” “The FBI doesn’t like being embarrassed. Never mind if they don’t do their job.” Castillo turned and looked out the window, finding himself missing the mountains that had been his companion for the last few weeks. “I’ll arrange a meeting with Chief Deputy Washington today. They’d expect that, since I’m just back in town. Do they know we found the tap?” “No. I’ve had everyone carry on like normal. Lester says all our other lines are clear, though. It’s just the declared one they’re monitoring.” “Good. That tells us what they don’t know. They don’t have a good picture of our operation. Have you noticed any surveillance?” “Nothing yet.” Sonny waved out the window. “But they could be in any of those buildings watching the garage. Stan did put tremblers on the windows, though. So if they try any fancy listening stuff they won’t get squat. He covered it by calling down and volunteering to ‘test’ some experimental equipment.” “Good work.” Martin sat down, feeling the mantle of command slip over him like a physical thing. “Keep working on that meet and identifying the two suspects. I’ll let you know what Pete has to say.”

Stanly Switek blinked when Rico gave him the news. “He wants me to bring Biggs back?” “Joo got it, meng.” Rico grinned. “The whole thing. And he says you can draw any support you think you’ll need. That includes Gina if it’s cool for bikers to bring their old ladies to deals.” He chuckled. “Not my social circle so I don’t know for sure. Draw it up and drop it by his office sometime today if you can.” “Yeah, I get it.” Stan nodded. It had been a while since he’d done serious undercover work. Before he’d have taken it as a slight, but the new Sonny just wanted to make sure he had everything covered. It was a good change, and long overdue, but he still had to remind himself about it now and then. Larry’s death still hurt. There was a typewriter in the back recesses of the Tech Room, and he headed there with a handful of paper. “Mind the store, Lester. I gotta do some planning.” “You got it, Stan.” Lester shook his head. “Going under again, huh?” “Looks like it, old pal. Means you gotta watch the comms and make sure everyone’s tied in.” “You got it, Stan.” Stan nodded, knowing that would take some of the sting off. He’d seen the hope in Lester’s eyes, and much as he wanted to bring him in he knew the man wouldn’t fit well with the identity he’d crafted for Biggs. Randy, on the other hand, was a natural for the part. And depending on the informant Gina wouldn’t hurt, either. Stan kept his informant notes on index cards locked in the Tech Room’s document safe. Pulling them out, he flipped through until he found the three tabbed for Biggs. He laid them out on the small table and stared at them, letting the names flow to faces in his mind and matching that information with times and places. Most of them came from biker bars on the outskirts of the city, places where the gangs stopped on their way up the coast or back down before heading to the strip clubs deeper in Miami. They weren’t quite clubhouses, but one or two came pretty damned close. Skaggs he discounted right away. Assuming the big moron wasn’t locked up somewhere he was too unstable to use in a deal like this. Skaggs had ties to a couple of the neo-Nazi clubs in South Florida. “Might have been useful when we were going after that Holmes character, but not now,” Stan muttered, putting the card back with the others. That left two. Either one might work, so he started sketching out a plan for each. Leo was a bartender at The Outlaw, one of the bars on the edge of nowhere catering to bikers. The other was a big guy everyone called Stretch. His real name was Jackson Tatum, and last Stan knew he was an up and coming member of the Mongols. He’d have to run Stretch first to see if he was even still on the street, but he was damned sure Leo wasn’t going anywhere. He’d be the easiest, but also the least likely of the two to have much insight on the coke trade. Bikers always took their old ladies to The Outlaw, so Gina would fit right in there. A part of him also wanted to see her in biker chick attire. But that would have to be Plan B. Stan shrugged as he read his own notes. Leo had been more connected to the speed dealers, including a few of the home brewers working out in the swamps. He might have upped his game in the last couple of years, but Stan doubted it. Leo lacked many things, and ambition was one of them. Picking up the card, Stan walked over to Trudy’s office. Gina looked up from the computer workstation and smiled. “Fancy seeing you here, handsome.” He grinned. “Wish it was a social call. Could you run a guy named Jackson Tatum? Goes by the nickname Stretch.” “You got it, honey.” Gina’s fingers flew across the keys, and she hit enter with a smiled. “Now if this thing doesn’t freeze up…and we got a hit. Your man Stretch is doing five to ten in Radford for possession with intent.” Stan shook his head. “Well, ya can’t win ‘em all. But you, sweet thing, get to be a biker babe for a day or two.” “Seriously?” Gina turned and smiled, her eyes sparkling. “They get wear the cutest next to nothings. You did this on purpose, didn’t you, Stanley?” “Well…uh…not exactly. But it did work out. I got two biker informants. You just told me the best of them is locked up. So that means we use Plan B. And you win an all-expenses paid trip to the shithole called The Outlaw as Biggs’ old lady.” “Well…it’s your cover. I’ll model some outfits for you tonight and you can tell me which one fits.” She smiled and batted her eyes. Stan felt his cheeks getting warm. “I’ll do that. And I’ll tell you which one will work for the cover. They ain’t gonna be the same thing.” “That’s what I was hoping.” She smiled again. “Now I’ll stop distracting you so you can finish that plan for Sonny.” Stan was still grinning when he settled down behind the typewriter. He still felt like pinching himself some mornings when he woke up next to her. And the best thing was she said she felt the same way. Allowing himself one last smile he shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind and started typing. Leo might be a chump, but The Outlaw attracted some rough characters. He wanted his plan to be solid before he handed it in. Sonny looked up from one of the bust files when Stan walked in. “How many of your sources are still good?” “Just one, lieutenant. The other’s doing a stint in Radford.” “Come on, Stan. Not you, too. Just call me Sonny. That lieutenant stuff makes me nervous.” “Ok, Sonny.” Stan set the sheets of paper on Castillo’s desk. “What sucks is he was the better informant of the two. But there’s a chance Leo either upped his status or knows someone who has. I tried to cover both in there.” Sonny nodded. “I’ll look through it and sign off before the end of the day. But I gotta know your gut on this one. You’ve got damned good instincts on this crowd, Stan. Better than mine, because you know them. Rico and I don’t have squat aside from Moreno, and I really don’t want to pull him back in. But if we have to we will.” “My gut tells me there’s a fifty-fifty chance Leo’s a bust. The guy’s a damned slug when it comes to ambition. But some of the guys who pass through that place aren’t as lazy. You get everything from suits playing Hell’s Angels to real Hell’s Angels moving through that bar. Leo might not know, but it’s even money he knows someone who does.” “Give me a thumbnail.” “I’ll roll in as Biggs.” He rubbed his chin. “The beard’s almost long enough, and I can play it off by saying I had to shave to dodge some heat. The line is I need some product fast to settle a debt. Leo won’t ask questions about that. I’ll bring Randy along for back-up. And Gina. The Outlaw’s an old lady bar, too. I’d look out of place if I didn’t have one. Or they’d think Randy was my old lady and that’s a whole other set of problems we don’t need.” Sonny laughed. “I won’t tell him you said that. Comms?” “Lester’s ready to run that whole show on his own. We can use those watch microphones and he’ll pick us up so long as he’s within a mile or so. And there’s plenty of roach-infested dumps out near The Outlaw. No one would notice him.” “Sounds good. And no buy money?” “No. This is a meet and greet at the most. I ain’t gonna give Leo no ideas. He’s not ambitious, but he is stupid. I don’t want to tempt him into trying a rip job.” “Good thinking. I’m saying yes right now, but we’ll get the formalities done by the end of the day. You might want to let Randy know so he can pick up a ride from Impound. You, too.” Stan grinned. “I already got the hog marked, Sonny. Used it a time or two before when I used Biggs. They keep the bike stashed for me down at the lot.” “Let me know if you need anything. Nice work, Stan.” Stan was still grinning when he stuck his head in Randy and Dave’s shared office. “Hey, Randy. You wanna go pick out a hog?” The deputy marshal looked up from the issue of Guns and Ammo he’d been reading. “Say what?” “You heard me. We gotta get you a bike and a good name to go with it. Half of Team Elvis is going undercover!” Sonny smiled as he heard the two men talking on their way out of the office. Without really reading it he scrawled his signature across the bottom of the last page of Stan’s ops plan. He’d skimmed, and it lined up exactly with what Stan had told him. And that’s what he cared about; not what was on the paper but what was in Stan’s head. There was risk. But there was always risk in undercover work. Stan had the edge of not being undercover much, limiting the number of people who might ‘know’ him as someone else. He also tended to vary his roles, either being the rube from Iowa or a burly biker like Biggs. Almost no social overlap. He did worry about Rico, since his various Coopers and Prentiss did move in similar circles. He avoided the problem by sticking to one cover. But that had its issues as well. With a flick of his wrist he sent the plan into the out basket, knowing at some point during the afternoon Mindy would fax it over to the deputy chief so they’d have a copy to file. So far the set-ups had been roughly two weeks apart, with the most recent coming three days ago, so they had time. Also, no one had been killed. Yet. It was the end game of whoever made the calls that had him wondering. Why take out middle men unless you wanted that job for yourself? And if you did, when would you move on it? Burnett had cornered transportation, figuring no drugs moved without it. Whoever this was seemed to be looking one step higher in the food chain. But to what end? A middleman was still a middleman; someone brokering the deals and not standing to make too much profit. Unless there was a particular market they were trying to corner. Rubbing his eyes, Sonny turned to look out the wide windows at the muddy blue sky. Summer’s heat was fully in now, and he had no desire to leave the office. But there was a part of him that worried about Jenny. He knew she’d tell him what was wrong when she was ready, but that didn’t stop his mind from working. He wanted to head back to the marina. To be with her. But he also knew that was a bad idea. A knock on the open door snapped him out of his thoughts. “Boss? You got a minute?” Even without turning he knew the voice. “Sure, Mindy. What’s up?” The red-haired deputy marshal came in, her eyes lowered. “Can I shut the door?” “Sure.” Now he was worried. “What’s up?” “It’s…” She looked up and sighed. “Can I sit down?” “Make yourself comfortable.” He smiled, trying to set her at ease. He’d come to understand his own intensity and was working to moderate it. Part of being in charge, he’d learned the hard way, was knowing when to slow down and listen to the people around him. “No hurry.” “It’s about Rico.” “What about him?” “Him…him and me, really.” She looked down at her pale hands. “I need to know he’s for real.” “He is, Mindy.” Sonny leaned forward. “Look, I know he comes across as intense one minute and full of jokes the next. But Rico’s the most real person I know. We’ve been partners for years, and they don’t come any realer.” “I’ve been…hurt before. And I know he’s got history.” “He does. Him and me both.” Sonny tried to gather his thoughts and translate what he was thinking into words. It wasn’t easy. He was a doer, not a talker. “Look, I’m not good with words so ya gotta bare with me. Rico’s had bad luck with the ladies. So he’s careful. Me? I never was. I’d fall in love at the drop of a hat, realize I’d made a mistake, and then make a mess of it trying to get out. Then Caitlin came along. And another of my mistakes caught up with me and ended that. Rico? He had one long mistake with one lady and a short one with another.” “Valerie and Angelina. He’s told me a bit about them both.” She looked up, blinking back tears. “Mine was with a chief deputy at my last posting. The whole ‘I’ll leave my wife for you’ line. And I fell for it.” “Well, if Rico’s got any wives hidden away they’re a mystery to me, too.” Sonny smiled, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mindy. That was an asshole thing to say. It’s what I do when I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. But Rico’s real, and I know he cares about you. He’ll have a hard time admitting that, mostly because of Angelina. Valerie…hell, I’ll be blunt. He wanted her more than she ever wanted him, and it took him a long time to figure that out. And not knowing about his son? That messed with his head for years.” “But now he knows.” “Yeah. Now he knows about them both. I think he’s had time to work through that, but only he can say for sure. But he cares. I know that.” “And I care about him, too.” “Good. All I can say is give it time. For both of you. Granted I’m the last one anyone should come to for relationship advice. My track record sucks.” She smiled. “Believe it or not you’ve been a big help, boss. I just wanted to be sure he was real.” “Oh, he is. And he’s got the biggest heart of anyone I know aside from Stan.” Sonny waited until she was gone to let out a long sigh. That was another part of being the boss he wasn’t used to. Maybe tonight he’d ask Jenny about it. He could count on her to tell him if he’d fucked up or not. But it took some effort to force his mind back into work mode. To get where he needed to be to figure out what was going on with this Bolivian coke and whoever was bringing it in. Maybe he’d reach out to Lauderdale and see if they had anything. Coke of that quality usually left a trail of some kind. His contact in Lauderdale PD wasn’t much help. “Wish I could give you something, Sonny,” Sergeant Atkins said with a sigh. “But I got nothing up here. With all that crack coming in we’re up to our necks in that. Coke ain’t even on the radar now.” “Is it that bad?” “Yeah. It’s cheaper than coke and packs a bigger punch. That and the assholes out in the swamps figured out how to cook it. But anyone bringing coke through here now picked a damned good time. We just don’t have the resources to hit both.” “Shit.” The single word hung in the air after he hung up the phone. “Why’s that, partner?” “Because, Rico, someone’s moving that stuff through Lauderdale in the middle of a crack storm. They’re so buried by crack they aren’t even tracking coke right now.” “So maybe they were running up there and had to look for a new market?” Rico sat down in the chair Mindy had vacated minutes before. “From what I hear about crack, they ain’t even gonna compete.” “That’s what Atkins said.” Sonny shook his head. “It still doesn’t feel right. Let’s hope Stan can shake something out of that bartender of his.” “What’s buggin’ you about the whole thing?” “It’s the why of it. I know what they’re doing, more or less anyhow. And we got a solid picture of the how. But why? And the method. We got that, too. But why? Coke you usually move fast and in bulk. More profit that way considering the risks involved. Better to run two or even three loads by go-fast instead of one smaller load on something stealthy and small. Unless…” “Unless it’s all you’ve got.” “But then why rat out the buyers? If you’re looking to upgrade you need repeat business. And by now whoever it is would have enough to buy two or three go-fasts and up their game.” Rico shook his head. “You got me, partner. I just grin and flash the cash.” “I know. And I’m gettin’ too deep. But as Burnett I always wanted to know the why. Once you know that you can break all the rest and anticipate their moves.” He sighed. “Without the why we’re just chasing their tails and letting them call the shots.” “What would Castillo do?” “Look up, glare, and tell us to get to work.” Sonny chuckled. “No, he’d do what we’re doing now. Except he always did it in his head.” He turned, looking out the big windows again. “Nice view outa here. Can’t say I like the headaches that come with it, though. I can’t wait for next week when they’re back.” “You think they’ll come back?” Sonny nodded. “Yeah, I do. Marty still feels there’s things he needs to do, and he won’t leave until he’s finished whatever it is he needs to finish. Trudy’s got unfinished business of her own, I think.” “Yeah, you’re right about that. And they aren’t the kind to leave business undone.” Sonny nodded, but his mind kept wandering back to Jenny. Finally he got to his feet and walked to the window. “How did we get so disconnected from it, Rico? Time was we were wired in tight. Knew every player. Every drop. Now…” “We’re payin’ for giving up a year. I don’t regret it, and I don’t think you do, either. But there’s a cost with that kind of thing, partner. And now the bill’s come due. You’ve been workin’ the streets like I have since we got back, but they’re different now. Small players gettin’ pushed out by bigger organizations. And crack…that’s busy changing everything.” “That and how we ran at OCB don’t work no more.” Sonny grinned at his reflection. “Our cowboy act would get us killed now. Most days I think I’ve got it down, but then something comes up and I know I’m still learning the rules.” He turned back to the desk. “Getting Stan back in the game is the right call. He didn’t take a year off so he knows how the streets have changed.” “What about Gina?” “We’ll see how she does this time out.” Sonny shook his head. Rico had said what he’d been thinking. “I don’t think her heart’s in this side of the Job anymore. Which is cool. But we need to move her off the streets if that’s the case.” “I get it, partner. You don’t want anything happening to her on your watch.” “No, I don’t.” Sonny thought back to Larry Zito and what that had cost everyone but him. “It’s her call unless she’s too close. Then I’ll have to make it for her.” “I got your back. No matter which way it goes. Stan will understand so long as you take the time to explain it to him.” “I will, Rico.” A beep from the desk interrupted his thoughts, and Sonny was conscious of the heavy 4506 under his arm. “One of these days I am gonna shoot that damned thing.” “Speaking of shooting, wanna go do some grain therapy? At least that’s what I think Dave calls it. They start talkin’ guns and it’s like me talking jazz to them.” Rico chuckled. “It’s been a few days since I’ve been and honestly I could still use the time with that Walther.” “Why not? My new 4506-1 still has the new smell on it. That and there’s a new drill Randy was talking about I want to try.” Grinning, he left the fax machine spewing paper. “At least that damned thing can’t fax the car phone.” “Not yet. Give it a year or so.” The sun was still a red ball above the ocean when Sonny pulled into his spot at the marina. Pete had given them the formal go-ahead for the operation, and he knew Stan wanted to spend the evening getting Gina ready for her role. He’d come back late that afternoon with a grinning Randy and two Harley-Davidsons breaking every noise ordnance in the underground garage. He’d read the plan back at a briefing in the morning and go over everyone’s role. The range had been good. Rico was getting better every time with the Walther P-88, and Sonny had finally settled in with the latest 4506. The Dash One took out some of the sharp edges on the earlier 4506 and 645, and was the smoothest-shooting pistol he’d ever carried. He was confident Randy’s new drill had shaved close to a second off his time between drawing and getting off two aimed shots, something that was becoming even more important now that the drug gangs were up-gunning. But tonight wasn’t about that. He hadn’t been able to shake his unease about Jenny, even when he was deep in the drills or later going over last-minute adjustments with Stan. He’d half-expected to come back and find Vellamo gone. When they’d fist met she’d been smuggling stolen art, and was gone for days at a time on those runs. He was afraid she’d just disappear now. But her boat still bobbed at its spot on the dock, and he could just see a candle in the stern of the Dance through the red of the setting sun. She was there, but Elvis wasn’t. That took some getting used to, but it had been the right move. The gator was getting older, and Sonny wasn’t around often enough these days to keep him in tuna. So he’d finally done what he should have done years back and taken him to one of the gator sanctuaries popping up along the coast. They’d been happy to get a gator his size, and Sonny felt better knowing Elvis was back in the swamp where he should have been all along. Jenny agreed. “He looks so happy,” she’d said as the workers undid the loading sling and the big beast scuttled off into the muck. But it was more than that. Elvis was really the last piece of his past. Of the old cowboy Sonny. The overgrown frat boy who actually thought he could keep a big gator on a sailboat. And the boat was his now, too. Not impounded property loaned to the overgrown frat boy so he could play his role. By turning the gator loose, he’d also cut ties forever with that part of his life. The part that had hurt so many people. Jenny was sitting in a folding chair on the bow, looking out over the water. She’d gathered her thick hair into a ponytail, and he could see she was wearing another thin t-shirt and those impossibly short shorts. Her long, slender legs were stretched out in front of her, and she didn’t move when he came forward. “How was your day?” “Nothing exciting.” “I can smell the shooting on you. The range?” “Yeah.” He fished a crumpled pack of Lucky Strikes out of his blazer pocket and lit his third of the day. Another thing from his past he found he didn’t need as much now. “Rico wanted to get some more work in and needed company.” He sat down next to her on the cabin roof, admiring the way her tanned skin seemed to glow in the waning light from the setting sun. “How was yours?” “Nice. I went and talked to Angie for a bit. You were right. I should have done it before. She’s so easy to talk to. And she told me more about you and Caitlin. I really wish I could have met her in person.” Sonny nodded, remembering her first trip to Caitlin and Will’s graves. They’d gone back twice since, each time at Jenny’s request. “I want to let her know how we’re doing,” was all she’d say. “Did she think you could help?” “Yes. She told me to thank Blondie for sending Little Blondie to help.” She giggled for the first time. “I guess that’s me.” “Yeah. I’d say so. Angie has a thing about using names. Don’t know what the hell’s up with it, and I ain’t gonna ask her.” He smiled, touching her thigh. “Did she have ideas?” “She said one of the doctors wants to do some kind of sailing thing. Show the girls they can do things on their own, I guess. I know it helped me.” She looked over at him and smiled. “I want to refit Vellamo and give her to them. If I can…” “You can stay with me as long as you want. Like I said before, we’re together now. I want you in my life as long as you want to be here. And the Dance has never had anyone else living on board. Cait was always at the house or on the road.” He shook his head. “But you can always just loan them Vellamo, too. I know she means a lot to you. Make the modifications and rent it for a dollar a year. That’s what I did for Angie with the house before all this came to be.” Her smile grew, and she covered his hand with hers. “You don’t know how happy this makes me!” “Not as happy as you make me, but I can try.” “Oh, Sonny! Don’t say that! I’ve never been happier in my life! Ever!” She jumped off the chair and fell into his lap, her arms snaking around his neck in a tight hold. “Neither have I, baby,” he said, meaning every word. “Neither have I.” Later, after dinner, they sat in the stern watching the moon rise. She’d carried the happiness through the meal, but he could sense her worry gathering like distant clouds over a calm ocean. So he decided to distract her. “Mindy came to me about Rico today.” “That’s good. She trusts you.” Jenny smiled, but her eyes were elsewhere. “Yeah. She wanted to know if he was real.” “They’re a great couple. Really. She’s so much smarter than she lets on, and Rico’s got a heart almost as big as yours. I’m glad he found someone who deserves it.” Sonny took her hand. “Look, babe. What’s eating you? It’s making me crazy. And I don’t know why. But I want to help. Even if it’s just listening.” “I…” She looked away. “It’s a feeling.” “I listen to your feelings. After what happened with Marty the whole team listens to your feelings and trusts them.” “They do?” “Yes. No question.” “They don’t think I’m crazy?” “No. Mindy had a relative like you, I guess. She’s in total awe of you.” He took both her hands and pulled her close. “You have people who care, baby. And me. Let me help if I can.” She looked out over the water for a time, and then turned back to him with tears glittering in her eyes. “I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it out there. Something from my past. What I was before.” “I checked today. That ex of yours is doing Federal time.” “It’s not him. I knew that. This feels…different. I had some people who said they were friends then, but I also had enemies. I was good at what I did, and some of them didn’t like that.” “Yeah. We see that all the time with dealers.” “Some of them thought the rich girl shouldn’t mess with their trade. Others just didn’t like their customers leaving them for me because I was better than they were.” She smiled, though tears still streamed down her cheeks. “It’s something from them. I just don’t…” Reaching up with a finger, Sonny dabbed the tears away. “I’ll do anything I can to help, baby. Just let me know. I won’t push, but just know I’m here if you need me.” “I…I’ve never had that before, Sonny. Thank you.” She kissed him, but it was a different, softer kiss. One full of both passion and vulnerability. She’d never kissed him that way before. “I love you so much,” she whispered in his ear. “Let’s go below and I’ll show you how much.” Sonny woke with the rising sun, feeling Jenny settled in next to him. Her breathing was regular and a soft smile still played around her lips even in sleep. He didn’t want to move, almost didn’t to breathe, out of fear of waking her. With her thick blonde hair draped around her face she looked more beautiful than ever. “You’re watching me.” He hadn’t seen her eyes move. “Yeah, I guess I am. You looked so beautiful I didn’t want to wake you.” She kicked the sheets down and smiled. “More beautiful than now?” “Now you’re cheating.” He kissed her neck, drawing a giggle from deep in her throat. “But I gotta get ready to go in. Stan’s got an operation to brief and I don’t want to freak him out by being late.” “Say hello to them for me.” She smiled again and stretched, showing every curve of her body to its best advantage. “I might talk to Angie again today.” “You know Gina’s involved in this too, right?” “Yes. But what I’m working on won’t involve her. Angie and I talked about that, too.” He got out of bed, walking to the small head to brush his teeth and shower. He was about to turn on the water when he felt her warm body pressed against his back. “Let me help you,” she whispered in his ear.

It was long past dark when Sonny pulled into his parking spot at the marina. Pete had taken longer than he’d anticipated, mostly wanting to know the details of what was going on and what the end goal of the operation was. “Just got some folks nosin’ around,” was all he’d say when Sonny asked. “Nothin’ for you to worry about, though. Just keep them people in the field and busy.” But it did worry him. Sonny was a good cop, but a terrible politician. He knew it, and tried to avoid that side of the job as much as possible. But if someone was trying shut them down, sooner or later he’d have to get involved. Unless they waited a few more days. Then Marty could deal with them. Jenny was sitting in the stern seats of Vellamo, her thin white t-shirt soaked with sweat and transparent. He could see dark circles at the peaks of her high breasts, and figured they’d be lucky if old Mr. Gruberman on the next boat over hadn’t stroked out at some point in the afternoon. She saw him coming down the dock and waved. “I’m almost done here, honey! Then we can head back to the Dance. I’ve got dinner waiting.” The main cabin of the boat smelled of what could be stew, and a large covered pot simmered on the cooktop. Smiling, Sonny hung up his gray blazer and tossed his shoulder rig on the settee. Not three minutes later he heard her padding across the cabin roof and coming down the gangway. “I need to shower,” she announced, pulling the shirt over her head. As he’d suspected she was wearing nothing underneath. “Why? You’ll just be getting sweaty again later.” He grinned. “And why should old Gruberman be the only one who gets to enjoy the view?” “Now you’re just being mean. He never saw me with my shirt off. You’re the only one who gets to see that.” She smiled and did a quick turn. “What do you think?” “You know I love it, darlin’. But I gotta admit I am starving. And whatever’s in that pot smells good.” She left her shirt off while they ate, seeming to enjoy Sonny watching her. “So I think I’ve got a day worth of work left and then Vellamo can go start her new life.” Sonny nodded, savoring a spoonful of stew. She’d made it with some steak he had in the icebox, along with potatoes, onions, tomatoes, and some other things she’d found in either his galley or hers. “I didn’t want the provisions to go to waste,” she explained with a smile. “What are you changing in her?” “I put another bunk in the main cabin. There needs to be room for four to sleep on board, maybe five. And I opened up the fore stateroom a bit.” “Sounds great. And I don’t know how the hell you do it. If I tried that I’d nail myself to the bulkhead faster than you could imagine.” “I enjoy it. It’s nice to see things happen like that. When you build them.” She smiled again and dabbed at the remains of her stew with a piece of bread. “How was your day?” He gave her the highlights, keeping it short. “So I just wanna get this thing in some kind of shape so when Marty comes back he won’t have to do much.” “He’ll be proud of how you handled it.” She smiled and reached across the table for his hand, pulling it to her chest. “Just like I’ll be proud of how you handle these.” Later, she snugged up against him, her breathing slowing until she let out a contended sigh. “I’ve been waiting for that all day.” “Which time?” Sonny looked up at the cabin ceiling, a smile playing across his face. “All of them.” She kissed his shoulder. “You’ll be glad when he’s back, won’t you?” “Marty? Yeah. He’s better at running the show than I am.” “What happens when he leaves?” She looked up at him with her serious eyes. “And he will. Trudy getting shot changed him. In good ways. But he may think he has to choose, and I know what he’ll choose. The same thing I did.” Sonny shook his head. “I don’t know, darlin’. Can’t say I ever really thought about it that much.” And he hadn’t. But the thought sent a chill down his spine. Castillo was the best cop he’d ever known or heard of. With no exceptions. It had never really occurred to him the man might leave. But it was something he’d understand if it happened. Something I should have done with Caitlin. I won’t make that mistake twice. “But yeah…I don’t know what I’d do.” “Your heart will tell you when it’s time. Just like his will tell him. And mine told me.” She kissed his neck again, following it up with a lick up to his chin. “And I think I need one more before we go to sleep.” He rolled on his side and looked deep into her eyes. “Your wish is my command,” he said, kissing her with an intensity that matched hers. Morning found the Task Force assembled around the conference table, drinking Stan’s excellent coffee and contemplating their next moves. Sonny preferred doing it as a group as opposed to him sitting in the office and making pronouncements. He’d always seen it work for Castillo and he wasn’t too proud now to admit they spotted things he might otherwise miss. Stan looked up from his draft report. “I’m kinda pissed we didn’t spot those goofballs until they were on us. We should have checked when we came out of The Outlaw.” Randy shook his head. “That ain’t on you, sarge. I did check. Didn’t see any sign of ‘em. They might have been waiting on one of the side roads and picked us up then. We weren’t easy to miss, after all.” Sonny nodded. “You did everything right, Stan. No question in my mind. It was just one of those damned things that makes our job so interesting. How you gonna play it with Leo?” “Roll in and accuse him of sending them after us. It’s what Biggs would do, and Patch can back my play. Might even give Lexi some room to stretch those long legs of hers.” Gina giggled. “It would be fun to stick a snub nose under his fat chin, but I think I’ll let you two handle that.” “What then?” Stan looked up, a smile spreading across his face. “We’ll meet this friend of a friend and see how it rolls. But I did come up with a way to get Burnett and Cooper in if it goes past a single buy. The way I see it, Patch and I are laundering bank heist money or something. It’ll run out. But I know Burnett from some sketchy deals before the Manolo thing went down and figure he might have ties to some bigger money. We dangle that in front of this goofball and see if he bites.” Sonny nodded, letting the idea roll around in his head. “Good idea. Then we can see just what this guy’s end game is. And that damned fax machine was actually good for something. Those bikers you dropped were some bad dudes. Not high up on the food chain, but they’d done some serious damage at their level. Armed robbery. Warrants for a homicide up in Broward. Pete can keep the AUSA off, but he did say something about people sniffing around.” Mindy looked around. “I’ll reach out and see if my contacts know anything. I still know a couple of deputies in other offices. They might have heard something.” Dave and Randy nodded their agreement. “We don’t have the contacts, boss,” Dave commented, “but we’ll reach out, too.” “Just keep it quiet if you can. If someone’s looking into us, I don’t want them to know that we know.” Rico looked at his fingernails. “Pete didn’t give any hints?” “Not a one.” “That’s not like him.” “No, but he was also on a normal line. This might call for a sit-down.” He looked across the table at Stan and Lester. “I need you two to sweep all our lines. See if anyone’s listening. As of now we assume they are. And check the offices, too.” Rico nodded. “We did rattle some Company cages with the whole Delgado thing. And then that chump Menton. We’ve taken out their trash a few times now. Maybe they think we’re a loose end.” Sonny’s grin wasn’t pleasant. “They forget we still have those files we got from Maynard and Moncado. And that tape the Delta guy got to Marty. If it’s the Company, we can play hardball.” “Who else have we pissed off?” “Try who we haven’t pissed off.” Sonny chuckled. “It’s a shorter list. DEA love us, and so does the AUSA’s office. I think that’s about it. ATF did until they screwed up that Holmes raid and we had to save their asses. And the Feebs have always hated us.” Rico nodded. “And then there’s our good buddies over at Metro-Dade. We did plug a leak for them, but they don’t like it when other people do their work for them. And I think there’s still a few chumps in the head office who’d like to see us working Traffic.” “Either way I’m not letting it slow us down. Stan, can you have a plan ready by noon? Cool. We’ll meet then and give it a run-through. Mindy will have a receipt ready for the flash money if you think you need any. I wouldn’t take much, though.” “Wasn’t planning on it. No need to tempt old Leo any more than we have to.” Rico followed Sonny into Castillo’s office and pushed the door shut. “You got a minute, partner?” “Always, Rico. What’s up?” Sonny sat down with a sigh. “And if you tell me you’re pregnant…” Rico chuckled. “Naw. Nothing like that. I’m on the pill.” He sat down, and his eyes turned serious. “I was talking with Mindy last night. Don’t grin like that, we actually did talk. Later. Anyhow, I’m thinking about having her move in with me. It’s a cover property, so I thought I should clear it with the boss man.” “I don’t see why not. Cooper always did seem strange without a beautiful lady on his arm.” Sonny nodded. “And about that cover property thing…have you thought about buying the place?” “It’s a damned nice pad. No question. A bit out of my league price-wise, even if it’s on the seized property auction.” Sonny turned to look out the window. He wasn’t sure how Rico would take what he was going to say, but it was something he’d thought about for months and had talked about with Jenny before leaving the boat that morning. “Look, Rico. I know we got off to a rough start, but you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. And the best partner. I know I was an asshole for years, and how the hell you stuck with me is something I’ll never understand.” “I ain’t no bed of roses, either, partner.” Rico chuckled. “We must two of most un-partnerable cops in South Florida.” “Yeah, but you stuck by me through it all. That means something.” He turned and looked his friend in the eye. “If you want to buy Casa Cooper, I can loan you the money. Nothing fancy, no interest. All or some. However you want to do it.” He raised his hand. “Just think about it, ok? Assuming you’re going to stay in Miami.” “You know, I never really thought about that.” Rico leaned back in his chair, and Sonny could see thought lines on his forehead. “I know I talk a lot about New York, but there’s nothing there for me now. Maybe it was the idea I’d find Rico Junior someday and take him back there. But that’s gone, too. My whole life’s down here now. Especially now.” “Like I said, I don’t need an answer now. Hell, if you don’t want to do it that’s cool, too. I just want you to know the offer’s there.” Rico nodded, his eyes shifting down then back up again. “Let me see what the asking price is. I’ve got some put away. Easy to do when you’re wearing someone else’s threads.” “Yeah. I’ve been lucky with the boat. I never really had to move like you did. And now it’s mine. I’d like to make sure you can actually stay in one place and get settled in. Just know that the offer’s there whenever you’re ready. And you can pay me back when you can however you can.” “You don’t need to do this, Sonny.” He nodded. “I know. But I want to. That’s the thing, Rico. I want to use some of that money to help people around me. Cait would have wanted that. I’ve got it set so Caitlin’s House can draw on a trust to keep running for years. She still gets royalty money, and that’s going into the trust. So it’s set. Me? I don’t need squat. Boat’s paid for. Now that Elvis is wandering the swamps again I don’t need to buy tuna or kibble. Or pay for repairs at the marina when the big bastard got out.” “What about Jenny?” “Hell, she’s set on her own.” Sonny shook his head. “She doesn’t talk about him much, but her daddy’s loaded. There’s some trust fund in her name she draws on when she needs stuff. And she doesn’t need much stuff. The most I’ve ever seen her spend was on materials to refit Vellamo for Caitlin’s House.” Rico grinned. “She doesn’t spend on clothes.” Sonny laughed. “No, she does not. And I for one one ain’t complaining about that. For more than one reason. But no, partner. I’m set. I just feel like I owe people around me.” “I get it, partner. I do. And…I’ll let you know what I need.” Rico shook his head. “It’s not easy.” “I know. We’re both proud, dumb bastards on the best days. But you’re on the edge of something good with Mindy and I want to make sure you don’t get moved back to some shithole on the edge of Overton or the swamps just because some bean-counter wanted the penthouse.” “Or some boss spotted it and wanted it as a hide-out for his hookers.” Rico nodded. “I’ll let you know.” “Good.” Sonny sighed. “That went a damned sight better than I thought it might.” “Yeah. Now let’s hope things go as easy with whoever’s sniffing around.” Rico grinned. “And Pete gave no hints?” “Nope, which is why I’m having our tech twins sweep the place. Pete isn’t usually so close-mouthed.” “What’s your gut telling you?” “FBI. They didn’t benefit at all from any of our operations, and I think Pete had some kind of feud with them before we even came on the scene.” Sonny nodded, more for himself than Rico. “Yeah, I’d put my money on the Feebs. Maybe the Company, but I don’t think Pete would know they were coming if they were going after us.” Rico nodded. “You got a point there. I’ll keep my eyes open for unmarked tan Fords with guys in cheap suits.” “Yeah. They could mess this operation up if they come tromping in wearing their size thirteen shoes.” He sighed. “Two more days and Marty’s back. I just want to hold this on track until he’s back in this chair. Investigations I can deal with, but this kind of thing is not my scene.” He shook his head. “But thanks for letting me know about Mindy. You two getting things sorted out?” “Yeah, I think so. She’s had some bad luck with men, and you know about me and the ladies.” Rico smiled. “But this one feels good.” “Jenny thinks so, too. She’s always asking about the two of you.” “And that girl is never wrong.” Rico shook his head. “Scares me sometimes.” “You and me both, partner.” Sonny glared as the fax machine beeped to life. “Guess I’d better see what kind of crap is coming in this time. And if you get a chance give some thought to how we could work that angle Stan mentioned for getting Burnett and Cooper into the deal. I’d like to have a backup plan ready to go just in case we have to move faster than we think on this one.” “Yeah, I’ll do that. It’ll have to be through Burnett, I think. At least at first. Cooper and Biggs just ain’t gonna run into each other socially unless it’s a strip club, and his deals would be too small for me.” Sonny nodded. “We got a couple of hours. Let’s make ‘em count.” Randy, Stan and Gina were in costume when they got back together to go through the plan. Gina had switched to a pair of tight leather pants this time, giving Sonny a sheepish smile when he raised an eyebrow. “I ended up giving people a show with the last outfit,” she explained. “And if I have to get involved it’s easier to fight in these.” Stan grinned. “And it fits the story. We’re gonna tell Leo we had to lie low down the coast after the shooting. Florida City instead of Lauderdale so we don’t run into the dealers with the story.” “I like it.” “We’re gonna take ten grand in flash money. I already signed it out with Mindy. Nothing’s gonna change hands, though. It’s just to show we’ve got the goods on our side if anyone asks. If not, it doesn’t see daylight until it’s going back in the office safe. We’ll roll in like before, but I’m starting to worry the Roach Coach might have been made.” Lester nodded. “I’m kinda out of shacks that might need an exterminator. I can fake a breakdown, but someone might stop to help or try to rip me off.” Sonny thought for a moment. “We’ll take the chance one last time. Any more meetings won’t be at The Outlaw in any case. Leo’s role in this show is almost over.” “Ok, but we’d like to stick you two in the Roach Coach. If anything goes south we’ll need as many guns as possible.” Stan looked at Randy, who nodded. “We got lucky with the Angels, and we don’t have a feel for what this mystery dealer’s capable of.” “Sounds good. Any other thoughts? Where’s Mindy during all this?” “Back here running the radios. I’ve got her read in for signals Delta, Oscar, and Romeo if things go bad.” Mindy nodded, her blue eyes lighting up as she smiled. “I can send cops from three different jurisdictions all over South Florida if you need it, boss. It also frees up Lester to drive or shoot as needed.” Sonny looked around the table, seeing only nods. “Good plan. We’ll execute when you give the word, Stan. Team Elvis and a couple of plus ones.” Gina settled onto the passenger seat of the big Harley, wrapping her arms around Stan and feeling the vibrations from the motor starting to work their magic. Maybe she’d pushed the edge a bit the first time, but it worked. Both for putting Leo at ease and for making sure their night was outstanding. This time she promised herself she’d focus more. It had moved past a simple meet and greet the second Stan and Randy had been forced to kill the Hell’s Angels. Or had they been forced? One thing that nagged at Gina about the Task Force was how quick they were on the draw. Granted, she’d been away from the game for over a year now, and a lot had changed about the drug trade in South Florida. She’d seen it in the faces of the girls her new unit had helped off the street. And on Stan’s face when he came home some nights before the Task Force had formed. Maybe they had to be that fast. The dealers certainly were. And better organized than they had been back when she was working the streets. Cartels were the norm now and not the exception, and each had its own private army of varying size. She pressed her face into the soft leather of Stan’s jacket to keep the wind out of her eyes as they rode. And she knew he was happier when he came home now. More satisfied with the job they were doing. But it’s not my job any more. Just thinking it made her feel a bit better. She’d come back as a favor to Castillo and Sonny, knowing they needed help while Trudy healed. But what she’d seen just confirmed she was better off where she was. Things moved so much faster now. And they were a tight unit. Tighter than even OCB had been on its best days. Four more days and she’d be back with Victim Services. And steering girls toward Caitlin’s House. The thought made her smile into the jacket. She did worry about Stan some nights. He was a gentle soul at heart, always trying to see the best in everyone. And on the Task Force that was hard, because all they saw was the worst. She knew she could keep him centered, and he was tough. Tougher than even she’d thought. Still, she worried. She felt the rhythm of the engine change, and the bike swing as Stan took the last turn before The Outlaw’s parking lot. Focusing her thoughts, she put herself into Lexi’s mindset for the last time. Then she leaned out from behind Stan to look things over. Only four bikes leaned against their kickstands this time, even though it was late enough for there to be more. But what drew her attention was the car; a dark Mercedes four door parked near the side entrance. “Got a big Merc,” she whispered into her raised arm, knowing the microphone in her watch would pick it up. “Florida plates. Might be a rental.” Without the earpiece she’d hear nothing back, but she wanted to give the Roach Coach an idea of what was going on before they went in. “Only four bikes.” Randy looked over and winked. “Showtime,” he mouthed over the thump of the bikes. She nodded back, still not quite sure what to make of Randy or Dave. They were both so quiet, so focused. But she’d seen Dave trotting around Debbie like a puppy, and she couldn’t get the image of Randy and Angie splitting a pitcher of beer without glasses out of her head. But she’d also heard what they’d done when Castillo and Trudy had been shot, and knew she could count on them no matter what. Maybe that was all that mattered. The gravel crunched under the sharp heels of her knee-high boots as she followed Stan across the lot. Her old .38 rested snug in a holster stitched inside her leather vest, and the slight breeze was cool on her exposed stomach below the cropped top. She focused on the sensations, along with the lingering weakness in her legs from the Harley’s vibrations. No matter how many times she’d done it, she still got butterflies going into an undercover situation. Stan crashed through The Outlaw’s door like a lineman opening a hole for his star running back. “You’d best not have had a damned thing to do with those Angels, Leo! I even think you did, I’ll put a damned bullet through your worthless head.” Behind the bar Leo raised both his hands and backed against the beer cooler. “No, Biggs! I didn’t have shit to do with that! Those fools dug their own graves.” Randy took a step past Gina. “You’d better be straight with us, fatso. Biggs here is nicer than me. I’d start shootin’ an the knees and work my way up.” While they went through their routine, Gina gave the bar a quick once-over. Aside from two bikers shooting pool at one of the coin-ops toward the back the place looked empty. Four bikes and a car and only two guys? This doesn’t feel right. She stepped forward and touched Stan’s shoulder. “Don’t wast time with this fat prick, baby. We got business.” Stan chuckled. “Right as always, Lexi. And I don’t want to hang around here any longer than we have to. Bad enough we had to run over to Florida City to lie low.” He turned back to Leo. “So where’s these friends of friends?” “Over here.” The man’s voice came from the doorway to back room. Good english with a touch of accent Gina put as South American Spanish. “You must be the Biggs this one talked about.” When the man stepped into the wan light of the pool tables Gina had to admit Dave’s description was almost perfect. He did have the short-cropped blonde hair of one of the SS men you saw in bad movies, and staying up with Stan she’d seen more than her share of those. And he was tall, and lean like some kind of athlete. A runner, maybe. His jawline was square and clean-shaven, and she could just make out his light blue eyes in the gloom. “Shall we talk at a table? I don’t like the bar.” “Sounds good to me.” Stan waved his hand and Randy started for one of the corner tables. Gina followed, still looking for the girl. Seconds later she came out of the back room, and again Dave had nailed his description. She wasn’t quite as tall as the man, but the spike heels she wore made up for the lack. Her hair was a dark black, but to Gina it looked dyed. She wore a suit of the same make and cut of the man’s, but with a narrow skirt tailored to show her muscled legs off to full advantage. And I’d say she was a skater, too. Not small enough for a gymnast. She returned Gina’s appraisal with a frank look, and then smiled. Her eyes were a dark brown. She didn’t say a word, just sat beside the man. Gina sat where she could drape an arm around Stan and keep an eye on them both. She knew they’d expect it since she was his old lady, and it gave her a good chance to study them both. The man nodded to Stan. “You may call me Frank. It will do for our purposes. I hear you’re looking for a specific product.” “My friend is, yeah.” Stan nodded toward Randy. “Patch is a might particular about how he invests his money.” “I see.” Gina watched the body language, trying to keep her eyes hooded so she looked bored instead of appraising. Five minutes into the conversation she realized with a shock that the woman was in charge. She was sitting close enough to Frank to touch his thigh with hers, and from time to time she’d press against him just enough for him to feel the touch. Always it was after Stan asked a question. “So you want a quantity of product I might be able to supply?” “That’s right. No less than twenty, no more than forty.” Randy shrugged. “Hard to more much more than that on a hog, ya know.” He leaned in. “And it’s gotta be Bolivian. Smoother than the rest and easier to cut because of that. I like to get the most return for my money.” She watched as the woman’s thigh touched Frank’s. “Say I can supply this. What are your terms?” “Depends on the quantity. I can go up to fifty a key, but that’s for less weight and higher purity. Now your turn.” Stan chuckled. “How much and what purity he means.” “I know.” Frank looked annoyed, but only for a second. “How soon do you need the product?” “Well, Leo’s little stunt with the Angels or whatever it was made this place a bit uncomfortable for us. Four days tops and we gotta head back north.” As Gina watched, two more bikers came out of the back room and joined the two playing pool. It could be coincidence, but she’d learned not to leave things to chance. She shifted a bit to watch them, noticing the girl move just after she did and likely for the same reason. Then she spoke her first words of the night. “You know those two?” “Nope. They’re unaffiliated punks. Biggs here is my old man. I don’t ride with punks.” More South American Spanish accent. Thicker than his. Bolivia, maybe? “You know ‘em?” “No. They were out back when we arrived.” Then the mask slid back over her face and she stopped talking. Frank looked annoyed at the interruption. “How do I know you have the funds?” “Same way I know you got the product.” Randy grinned. “But unlike you I came prepared.” Reaching into his jacket he pulled out a paper bag. “Ten grand. You can look but don’t touch.” Frank nodded, satisfied with what he saw. “And as you say, it is my turn.” He turned to the girl. “You have the sample?” Gina watched as she nodded and unbuttoned her white silk shirt, pulling a clear glass vial from one of the cups of her bra. She set the vial on the table and smiled. Something about the whole display left an uneasy feeling in Gina’s stomach. It was a calculated distraction, but why? And for who? Randy reached out and picked up the vial. Opening it, he sniffed. “Damned perfume,” he muttered, knocking a small trace of the white powder on the side of his thumb. “Cut looks good. Smells right, too, once you get overpriced hooker out of the way.” He looked over at Stan and nodded. “You wanna check it?” Nodding, Stan pulled out a test kit and scraped the powder from Randys thumb into the tube. Snapping the base, he shook it and smiled when it turned blue. “I’d say we’re good.” He set the vial back on the table. “If the whole load’s that good.” “It is.” Reaching out, Frank picked up the vial and tucked it back in the girl’s bra. Again Gina watched as her thigh pressed his. “I’d say we can do business. You have a contact number?” “Hotel front desk, but we’re movin’ around a bit.” Randy smiled, but his eyes were a strange cold that made Gina nervous without knowing why. “That and I’d rather put this together face to face. Phone calls have a way of goin’ wrong or bein’ heard by the wrong ears.” “I like careful.” Frank pulled a small pad out of the inside pocket of his jacket and scribbled something on the top sheet with a gold Cross pen. “Meet us at this address tomorrow at ten. We will make arrangements then.” He got to his feet with a smooth, practiced motion, followed by the girl. “Good night.” Turn he turned and went out the back door, the girl close behind him. Gina could feel some of the tension leaving Stan’s shoulders even through the thick jacket. “Let’s get outa this damned place an’ back on the road,” he said, turning and hauling her in for a quick kiss. It surprised her, but rekindled that weak feeling in her legs. “You ready to ride, Patch?” “Hell yes. Place smells worse than a latrine at Bragg in August.” Randy shot a last look at the four men back by the tables. “You boys best not get any cute ideas, hear? Just ask Leo how the last four assholes with cute ideas ended up. Ain’t that right, Leo?” Stan laughed, a booming thing bouncing off the walls of the bar. “You’ll get your finder’s fee, Leo. Don’t worry. Soon’s we get everything lined up. You got Biggs’ word on that, an’ Biggs don’t lie.” Gina kept her eyes moving when they walked out into the parking lot. The Mercedes was gone, and that made her heart beat a little slower. Something about the whole act with Frank and the girl still didn’t sit right with her. Maybe it was the name Frank…digging up memories of Frank Mosca. She shuddered in spite of herself. Bad old memories. She thought she’d put the rape behind her. But I should know better. It’s what I do every day now. And Stan…I love him so much. She smiled, using the image of Stan to push the memories away. Stan took her hand and grinned. “Now let’s get the hell out of here, Lexi. You still ready to ride, Patch?” Randy started his bike with a roar. “Let’s blow this hole!” They took their time getting back to the underground garage, making more than a few detours to make sure no one was following them. Satisfied, Stan pulled up next to Randy and gave him a thumbs-up. Gina kept her face pressed against the jacket, just enjoying the feel of him and letting the warmth flow over her. Trying to separate her feelings about the name from her impression of the two they’d met at the bar. Sonny and the rest were waiting for them when they got off the elevator on the tenth floor. Randy pulled out the paper bag with a grin. “Let’s get this logged back in,” he said. Stan nodded. “You want to debrief now, Sonny?” “A quick one. I think we can recycle tonight’s plan for the meet tomorrow.” Gina nodded, sitting down in one of the conference room chairs to hide the weakness in her legs. More than anything she just wanted to pull Stan down on the table and have her way with him, but that would have to wait until they got home. “I don’t know if you two noticed, but the girl was in charge of that meeting.” Stan looked at her with wide eyes. “I was too busy watching those punks back by the pool tables.” “She was pressing on his leg every time you two asked a question.” She looked from Stan to Sonny, her brown eyes serious. “He wasn’t showing much when she did, but it was there. She agreed to that meet, not him. And I expect they had the location picked out before we even came in.” “But why have him as a front?” She giggled. “Credibility, Crockett. Who’s gonna take the word of some tall dame with nice legs when you got a scary SS poster boy saying all the lines?” She winked. “And he makes a great fall guy if things go wrong.” She shook her head at a memory. “What I want to know is why they pulled that stunt with the coke in the bra? That’s strictly amateur hour, and nothing about those two struck me as amateur.” Randy looked up from the receipt he was signing for Mindy after she and Rico had counted the money. “Habit? Maybe they usually take pictures or something. But the light in there was too damned bad for that. I picked the table on purpose just in case.” Gina smiled. “Good thinking.” “Habit, ma’am. Our surveillance teams like to take pictures that way, so I aways planned to avoid what we do.” Lester nodded. “And speaking of that, the office came up clean when we swept earlier. I’m gonna do it at least twice a day until someone says stop, though. No routine just in case someone’s turning stuff off to avoid a regular sweep.” Gina nodded, impressed. She still remembered Lester as the awkward guy from the lab who’d sometimes come up and turn bright red when he had to fit her or Trudy with a wire. He’d been over to the apartment a few times since the Task Force formed, but she hadn’t appreciated just how much he’d grown until she’d worked with them. No she corrected herself. How much all of them have grown. Even Stan. Especially Stan. And Sonny…I don’t even know him anymore. She shook her head. It was time to get back to her real job. Her real life. She loved how this had brought out the real Stan, but she also loved how her work had brought out the real her. It made sense now. Stan looked over at her and winked. “Now I’d best get my old lady back to the crib. Or is that even a damned thing these days? I can’t keep up. Hell, let’s just get the hell out of here. Lester, you mind dropping us off?” “Don’t worry. I drove in. Best if he we leave the bikes under cover.” Randy nodded. “Good idea. Just in case those two are lookin’ for us.” He looked over at Dave. “You did bring the Trans-Am, right?” “This ain’t my first rodeo, son. Of course I brought the Trans-Am.” Dave chuckled. “We’ll see you kids in the morning.” Stan seemed to pick up on her mood on the way back to their apartment. “I bet you’ll be glad to see the last of that place.” “Kind of, yeah.” She smiled, guiding her car through the traffic with ease. Since leaving OCB she’d downsized to a more manageable late-model Toyota. “It’s good to work with them, but I miss being able to come home feeling like I helped someone make their life better.” “I get it. And I’ll bet Lia and Ashley are lost without you.” He touched her thigh and smiled. “They’d never admit it. Especially Lia. And if you touch my thigh again I might just pull this car over and not be responsible for my actions.” He laughed. “I’ll wait until we get home, then. It’s way more fun when you’re responsible for your actions.” Her laugh was real this time, reaching down deep inside. “I love you, Stan.” “I love you, too, Gina. And next time we take the Harley out it won’t be for work.” “Then I’ll wear that skirt again. There’s something I’ve always wanted to try…”

Lester was waiting in the outer office when Sonny came in just before eight the next morning. “I got that report ready for you, Sonny. And some bonus stuff. After Stan’s team left, Dave went in and had a beer. He was thirsty, and I wanted to see how the backup set works just in case we need it. But he picked up something damned interesting while he was at the bar.” “What is it?” Sonny followed the dark-haired lab expert into the other room. “And great work, by the way. Most people would have just bailed and not thought to test some new equipment.” “It was mostly Dave. I was tired of listening to him whine.” Lester smiled to cover his embarrassment at the praise. “But this is what he got. I still need to finish scrubbing the tape, but the transcript’s accurate.” He handed Sonny six sheets of paper stapled in the upper corner. “Finished that just before you came in.” “Fantastic work, Lester. You wanna give me the short version?” “It’s better if you read it, boss. Trust me.” Shaking his head, Sonny turned and headed for Castillo’s office. At least it gave him an excuse to ignore the fax machine for however long it took. He skimmed the first page, and then slowed down and went through almost word for word. “You’re shitting me! They were right there?” Lester stuck his head through the door. “Or they came in after Stan and the others left. I haven’t had a chance to ask him yet. The voices on the tape are identifiable, and Dave gave good descriptions. Those are on the last page.” He grinned. “If I were a betting man, which I’m not because Stan would kill me, I’d say they were close by and Leo called just after Stan and the others left.” “Let me know when they get, would you? We need to go over this before they go back out there.” Not half an hour later Sonny looked at the assembled Task Force around the conference table. “Lester and Dave scored big yesterday, and I’m not talking about Dave with Debbie.” He waited for the chuckles to die down. “Lester decided to test one of the backup mics and Dave wanted a beer. Not necessarily in that order. Anyhow, Dave goes back into The Outlaw wired and Lester hit pay dirt.” He looked over. “Pass ‘em out, would you?” Lester nodded and pulled out transcripts. “This is just the interesting bits. Sonny made me take out the rest.” “Stan, Gina, Randy. When you get yours check the descriptions on the first page and tell me if they were in the bar when you were there.” Stan looked up first. “No way, Sonny. Aside from Gina, there were two tatted-up skanks with the Angels playing pool.” Gina shook her head. “No way she was in there. And I think I’d remember the guy. He would have been taller than Stan, and there wasn’t anyone in there who was.” Randy confirmed it. “No way, boss. Not unless they were hiding in the shitter the whole time. And they don’t sound that brave.” Rico was reading ahead. “So it sounds like this broad and the chump are the connections to the Bolivian flake. You think it was just chance they were that close?” Stan ran his finger along the lines of type. “Maybe they were on their way to do a deal with the Angels before Leo turned them onto a bigger opportunity. Those goofballs looked like they were waiting for someone, hangin’ out in the back like they were.” Sonny nodded, things starting to fall into place in his head. “And if they didn’t know who they were meeting, it would be easy for our pair to just bail and leave them none the wiser. I mean, when Leo says he’s got a guy who wants to move up to forty keys of Bolivian flake it must have sounded like Christmas came early.” “Yeah. And then the chump says sert it up and Leo must have creamed his nasty jeans.” Sonny looked over at Dave. “Did they notice you?” “Hell, I was just there for a beer. I wasn’t payin’them no mind. Figured it must be two lost tourists and let it go since the bikers didn’t give a shit about them.” “But you got their descriptions down.” “Hell, son. I’m a sniper. It’s what I do. The guy was easy six two and looked like he lived in the gym. Blonde hair cut short. Kinda reminded me of one of those Nazis they have on the bad movies on late night TV. She was almost six foot. Dark hair, but it mighta been dyed or something. It didn’t look natural. Had a body like a skater or something. All muscle.” Lester spoke up. “It’s hard to tell on the tape, Sonny, but they might have accents. Faint, but something’s there. I doubt english is their native language.” “Any ideas?” Rico narrowed his eyes, looking at the paper again. “Lots of Nazis got out of Germany at the end of the war. Brazil, Argentina, Bolivia, Equador. They all took ‘em in. The chump could be one of the kids.” Dave nodded. “Makes sense. They were dressed like you, Rico. Sharp and expensive.” Stan spoke up. He looked tired, and Sonny guessed Gina’s satisfied glow had more than something to do with it. “I’ll listen to the tapes with Lester. Maybe we can pick out the accent, or at least eliminate some.” “Reach out to Pete, too. They’ve got linguistic resources.” He nodded. “We’ll do that. And what about this afternoon?” Sonny rubbed his eyes. “I’d say go ahead and meet him again. Gina, you don’t have to go this time if you don’t want to.” “I hate to say it, but you should stick in the Roach Coach, babe. Bikers don’t usually bring the old ladies along when they’re doing this kind of business.” “Sure. You just want to run into that Amazon on your own.” Gina crossed her arms over her chest and then smiled. “I’m kidding, Stan. I’ll keep Lester and Dave company.” Sonny nodded, glad to have navigated what could have been a tense situation. He didn’t want Gina going in the second time. “I like the idea of having extra backup close by just in case. Tubbs and I will stay in radio range, but that’s at least a five minute delay if anything goes south.” Stan grinned. “Best get those leathers warmed up, Patch. We’re goin’ out again.” Randy Mather tucked his bike in close behind Stan’s hog as they shot through the late afternoon traffic. He could feel his custom .45 pressing against his hip, and found the familiar weight comforting as always. It had been a few years since he’d ridden, and he found he’d missed the freedom and the wind in his hair. Truth be told he was glad they’d left Gina in the Roach Coach. She was nice enough, but she distracted Stan at the wrong times. At least to his way of thinking. But Randy also knew his way wasn’t everyone else’s, so he kept his thoughts to himself and his eyes open just in case he was right. He’d be glad when Captain Castillo and Trudy got back. Not because Sonny was a bad leader. Far from it. But he thought things ran better when they were in their natural teams. The teams that had come through the crucible of the whole business with Maynard and Moncado. Castillo running the show. Crockett and Tubbs doing their magic. Stan and Lester doing theirs. Mindy and Trudy putting all the pieces together. And him and Dave dropping bad guys like they always did. Although he did like Sonny’s Team Elvis. He and Dave did damned well with Stan in charge and Lester backstopping the whole affair. It wasn’t that Gina was a bad cop, he thought as they whipped past a plodding station wagon with four suitcases tied to the chrome luggage rack on the roof. She just wasn’t their kind of cop. Snorting, Randy disciplined himself. On my way into a hot AO and I’m brooding like some little bitch. That’s a few more range drills for me. Gina’s great at what she does. No question. It’s just not what we do anymore. But this wasn’t the time. Stan slowed to take the turn off the highway to the frontage road, and he followed suit. It was almost showtime. There were fewer bikes parked outside The Outlaw, but the cheap neon still flickered on the sign and the place looked just as run-down as it had yesterday. Stan looked over at Randy as he parked his bike and grinned. “Looks like the Angels ain’t comin’ by today.” “Can’t say’s I mind. Ugly bastards anyhow, and the men were worse than the old ladies.” “That’s no lie. I seen day shift girls at Rizzo’s who looked ten times better.” Randy nodded, feeling himself slip into cover with Stan during the banter. They were Patch and Biggs now, ready to take on all comers. Inside it was still gloomy and reeking of stale beer and piss mixed with last year’s cigarette smoke. “Damn, Leo! You ever open a window in here? Place smells worse than the crack of your mom’s hairy ass.” “But better than yours.” Leo grinned, swiping at a spot on the bar with a rag that might have been used to clean a dipstick not moments before. “How’s tricks, Biggs? See you and Patch found your way back.” “Yeah, and I better not have wasted the gas for hot air an’ nasty beer.” Randy let his earlier irritation flow into Patch, hitting just the right tone in seconds. “Oh, you didn’t, man.” Leo looked around, leaning across the bar and lowering his voice. “I think I got your problem taken care of.” Stan pushed his dark aviator glasses up on his nose and leaned on the bar, impressing Randy with his use of his size. You didn’t realize just how big Stan was until he wanted you to. “Now you’d best not be jackin’ us around, Leo. I don’t like that, and I know Patch don’t like that.” “I ain’t jackin’ no one around. Come on, Biggs. You know me.” “Yeah, and that’s why I said don’t jack us around.” Stan grinned and leaned closer. “You really think I’d forget about that one ‘deal’ you tried to set up out in the swamp with those boys who claimed to have medical-grade speed?” “Honest, Biggs. That’s what they told me. I didn’t know those pukes were gonna try a rip.” He raised his hands. “Honest. Had no damned clue.” Randy looked at Stan and grinned. Reaching down to his side, he whipped out his custom Colt and slammed it on the bar. He’d changed his normal target grips for an ivory pair with a carved rattlesnake on each panel. Not his thing, but it helped with the role. Dave had gotten them for him years back as a gag gift after they’d watched one too many episodes of Wild, Wild West on late night TV back in Butte. “You’d best not jack me around or you’ll be gettin’ up close and personal with ol’ Painless here.” “Hey! No need for that now!” Leo took a step back. “Then keep your fat paws away from the scattergun I know you got under the bar.” Randy gave him a last narrow grin before tucking the .45 back in his hip holster. “Just don’t want you workin’ with the idea we ain’t gonna kick if you try to screw us.” “So what’s the deal, Leo? Or are you just gonna keep messin’ with us?” Stan reached across the bar and poured himself a beer from the untended tap. “Here’s the thing. I found what you need, but they ain’t too big on dealin’ with new faces. I told ‘em we go way back, and that you got what it takes to make the deal. But I don’t know ‘em that well. Friend of a friend kinda thing. But…” Before Leo could go on the door slammed open and things started happening fast. Randy turned, recognizing at least two of the faces from the other night. The Hell’s Angels. “So these are the fucks you turned on us for, fat boy?” The leader was tall, with more muscle than brain, and the patch on the front of his cut-down jean jacket claimed he was master at arms of some shitbag chapter out in the middle of nowhere. “Look, assholes we…” Randy moved by reflex alone, honed by the jungle and patrol on Butte’s streets afterwards. His .45 cleared leather in a heartbeat, and by the second beat the Angel was staring crosseyed at the wide muzzle six inches from his face. “Who the fuck are you to come in here and mess with Biggs’ deal?” Randy’s voice was a hiss, and he could feel his eyes going empty. “Just like your great grandpa’s,” his grandmother told him once. “What do you think, Biggs? You want him wasted?” Stan had his own chromed Browning out and in the face of the second Angel. The other two hung back, waiting to see what would happen. “I don’t know, Patch. It is kinda tempting. Haven’t wasted me a punk for a couple of weeks now.” “Yeah, but it’s damned hard to get the blood out of the leathers.” Randy looked around at the now-silent bar. “You boys got any ideas?” “Look, mister. We didn’t mean nothin’ personal against you.” The ‘master at arms’ kept his hands raised, and Randy smelled acrid piss in the air. “It’s Leo we’re pissed at. You’re just tryin’ to do business.” “Yeah, and we need the fat fuck for that. So you’d best just walk on outa here, and if anything happens to him before we get our business done Biggs here would take that real personal. And I wouldn’t be too damned happy, either. And don’t get no dumb ideas about our rides, either. You know how long it takes a man who’s gutshot to die? Mess with rides and you’ll find out the hard way.” The biker staring down Stan’s Browning nodded. “You…you got it, man. Like Luke said, it’s all a misunderstanding.” Stan twitched his Browning in the direction of the door. “Get the hell outa here. I see you again I might get the wrong idea an’ think you were tryin’ to jump me or something. And me an’ Patch got this habit of shootin’ first and not worrying about questions later.” The two lead Angels backed toward the door, not noticing that the other two had already beaten a hasty retreat into the growing darkness of the parking lot. They kept their pistols out until they heard four bikes roar to life and gravel spraying as they hauled ass back toward the highway. Only then did Randy ease his Colt back into the hip holster and smile across the bar at a shaking Leo. “I think I’ll take that damned beer now. And you ladies best get back to pool or jerkin’ each other off. Keep staring at us and Biggs might take offense.” Randy kept half his attention on the rest of the bar while Stan leaned on Leo some more. He knew Dave would be chomping at the bit back in the Roach Coach having heard all the potential excitement, but he also knew his partner would have their back in case the Hell’s Angels grew a pair and came back. He didn’t think they would. He’d run off their type more times than he could count. Brave so long as they thought they were bigger than you, but once the situation changed they ran off and hid. Stan slammed a big fist on the bar. “Look, Leo! I already had to pull my piece once tonight. One more time ain’t gonna bother me none. Tell me what’s up with this deal!” “Like I said, man. More of a friend of a friend. He’ll meet with you, but you’d best bring your old lady along just to show it’s peaceful. He’s kind of a jumpy cat, if you know what I mean.” “No, I don’t. So you’d better spell it out plain.” “He’ll want to check you out. Make sure you’re both ok. That means a meet and then the deal if he’s satisfied. And if he ain’t satisfied he disappears and you don’t see him again.” “Same goes for us, Leo.” Stan’s voice fell. “We don’t like the looks of him we’re gone. And if he’s lucky he gets to walk away.” “I wouldn’t be too hasty. My friend’s kinda scared of this dude. Says he’s connected. As in overseas connected.” Randy took a drink of his beer and grimaced. “You sure that damned Hell’s Angel didn’t piss in this? And I ain’t gettin’ a good feeling about this friend of yours.” “Zack? We go way back. He’s connected to the speed freaks and such. Runs product for ‘em now and again. And some of those boys are into coke. Gives ‘em a different jolt, I guess. Anyhow, he met this cat when he was workin’ a deal for them.” “He ever done business with him?” “I think so. Hell, I didn’t ask. He was one of the cats I reached out to an’ he said he knew the guy.” Randy wondered how much of that was actually true. He didn’t think Leo had made contact with the mystery Nazi stunt-double himself, but he guessed there was more to it than Leo was letting on. “So why did those assholes think you’d cut them out of a deal?” “The Angels? Who the hell knows. They get speed now and again, and maybe they thought you were tryin’ to buy product meant for them.” Stan looked at Randy and gave him a quick wink. “You’d best not have been tryin’ to connect them with this same guy you’re sellin’ us now, Leo. That could go very bad for you.” “I ain’t! Swear to God!” Sweat was streaming from the man’s expanding bald spot and over his greasy forehead. “Look! He’ll be here tomorrow night. Same time as you came in tonight.” Randy slammed his empty beer glass down. “No money, though. Be sure he understands that. I ain’t riskin’ my take on some damned rip deal. We check each other out, and if it works we’ll set up a meet with him. You’ll get your commission, Leo. Don’t worry. But I don’t think you want to get too close to a big coke deal.” “You got that right, Patch.” Leo let out a big sigh. “Just show up tomorrow night. And don’t forget your old lady, Biggs.” They were almost back to the highway before Stan signaled and pulled to the side of the road. “What’s your take? I don’t like how he’s so hot to get Gina back there.” “Yeah. He could be telling the truth or there could be more to it.” Randy took off his helmet. “You got one of them ear sets? If we’re still in range see what Lester the rest think.” Stan’s face lit up. “I damned near forgot about those things.” He tucked the earpiece in and raised his wrist. “Get yours in, too. We can both hear. It’s an open channel.” Randy nodded, and got the little speaker in just in time to hear Lester’s tinny voice. “…sounds funny to us here, too. But he won’t know you’ve got backup.” Sonny’s voice cut in. “Yeah. And us, too. I think we’ll have it covered.” Randy could see Stan nodded, so he tuned out of the conversation and started watching the road. Dusk was starting to slip over the distant trees and rolling ground, and here and there cars were flicking on their headlights. He watched out of habit, but then something caught his eye. Four headlights, but not from two cars. “Stan!” he shouted, pulling his .45. “We got company!” The bikes came up fast, the thunder of their blown exhausts preceding them like distant thunder. Randy felt the heavy Colt in his hand, but knew he couldn’t fire. Not yet. Not until the men on the hogs did something. The engine noise changed, wrapping up and dropping down as the riders downshifted to bring their bikes to a halt. The yellow headlights washed over Stan and Randy, and Randy narrowed his eyes to a squint to preserve some of his vision. He hoped Stan did the same. “You dumb fucks messed with the wrong dudes!” It was the voice of mister ‘master at arms,’ who swung his leg over the passenger seat of his ape-hanger hog and stood with his feet wide apart. “First you steal our deal then you try to make us look like pussies back there!” Stan chuckled. “Hell, we didn’t have to try. You just naturally look like pussies. Ain’t no fault of ours.” Randy nodded. “You got one chance now. Get back on those bikes and ride on outa here.” One of the other Angels stepped even with the bigger man. “Who the hell are you tellin’ us what to do?” “Just wanted to see if once in your life you’d do the smart thing.” Randy shook his head. “Guess I shoulda known better.” He looked over at Stan and nodded. “U.S. Marshals! Show us your hands!” “Federals! Kill ‘em!” The big man’s hands came up in front of him, his left grabbing the wooden forehand of a cut-down shotgun. The other three started pulling weapons of their own, intent o using their numbers to their advantage. Randy didn’t notice. Before the big man’s hand touched the wood of the shotgun’s front grip he had the .45 up. As soon as the shotgun came level he threw himself to one side and fired two quick shots, hitting the ground with his shoulder and continuing into a neat roll. The shotgun boomed, blasting a hole in the dirt five feet in front of the dying man. Both Randy’s bullets had torn holes in his chest. Off to his right he had a sense of Stan shooting, the higher pops of the 9mm cutting through the boom of his Colt. But he wasn’t worried about Stan. Following the roll through, he let his momentum carry him to his knees, the front sight floating over the man in the back who was trying to level a big revolver at Stan. Randy shot him three times, each round hitting center mass and sending the man crashing to the dirt. As he stared to track right, he realized there was no more shooting. Stan stood, his Browning in a solid two-hand grip, smoke trailing from the muzzle as he watched the fourth man fall. Then he heard the big man’s voice over the radio. “We’re good. Four bad guys down.” Lester’s voice came back fast. “You got other problems. Incoming State Police. Someone musta called them.” “Or those bastards did it first. Planned on hitting us with a drive by and then letting the state boys sweep up the remains.” Stan looked at Randy as he put the safety on his Browning and holstered the pistol. “We can’t afford to get picked up. Too much chance we’ll get blown.” Randy nodded. “What’s the plan, sarge?” “Ride like hell!” Stan fired up his bike. “Lester? Can you buy us some time?” “You got it, Stan. I’ll fire up Tango for you.” Sonny’s voice came on again. “What the hell is Tango?” Stan’s answer was quick as he got on the gas and accelerated away from the bodies. “Tell you later, Sonny. We gotta ride!” Sonny shook his head. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about this?” They were sitting around the conference table, Stan and Randy still in their bug-splattered leathers and smelling of cordite and exhaust. Stan shrugged. “We were going to, but there hasn’t been time.” Dave leaned over to Randy. “Lester sent out like six fake dispatch calls. Sent them boys all over hell and gone.” “I’m not saying it was a bad idea, Stan. Hell, it’s damned brilliant. I just wish I would have known about it.” Sonny looked across the table. “How many more do you have?” Stan starred counting on his fingers. “Oh, I’d say one for every letter of the alphabet. Ain’t that right, Lester?” “About that. Maybe one or two more.” Sonny shook his head. “And you think this was just them trying to square things and not Leo pulling some stunt?” Stan nodded. “I’m ninety percent sure. There’s always a chance the moron hit his head or something, but he gets nothing from having us killed. Naw, those morons were pissed that we took their deal and pissed that we ran them off.” Sonny turned it over in his head. It made sense, based on what he’d heard over the radios. He looked at Rico, who nodded his agreement. “I’ll buy it. We can get the reports from the state guys and see what the rap sheets look like. And they didn’t bat an eye when you identified yourselves?” “No. They just seemed to get cranked up by it.” Randy shook his head. “Takes all kinds I figure.” Sonny nodded. “I’ll let Pete know and see if he can handle the AUSA. I need you both in the field, not answering questions.” He turned to look at Gina. “You good going in there again?” She nodded, and he saw no trace of doubt in her eyes. “Yes, Sonny, I am. One last operation before Trudy gets back and I head back to my old desk.” She smiled. “It’s been fun, but I do miss working with my girls.” Sonny nodded and looked at his watch. “Everybody go home and get some sleep. Or whatever.” He looked pointedly at Rico, Mindy, Stan, and Gina. “Tomorrow’s gonna be busy. We shouldn’t need buy money, but you might need some good faith flash. Stan, get a plan for me by noon if you can and we’ll read through it. I’d like to have something for Marty when he gets back other than we had the State Police chasing their tails over three counties.” He grinned. “Although I do think that might make him smile just a bit.” Ricardo Tubbs unlocked the door to Casa Cooper and flipped on the dim entry way light. He held the door as Mindy came in, then locked it and hung his Armani suit coat on a hanger nearby. He saw her watching him and smiled. “Saves on dry cleaning. I used to toss ‘em down and then got tired of shelling out ten bucks a throw to get the wrinkles out.” She smiled, shrugging out of her own light sweater. “I know what you mean. Hard to make ends meet some months on what we make.” She looked around. “Although some of the benefits aren’t bad.” “Yeah.” He just stood in the entryway, admiring her profile and the way moonlight streaming through the big glass windows highlighted the now-very familiar curves of her body. “Rico? You think it will last?” “What, lady?” “The Task Force.” He smiled, walking over to the stereo and firing up the six-disc CD changer. Charlie Parker’s mournful sax flooded the room. “Hard to say. Sonny likes to say as long as we keep winnin’, and he’s not wrong. Bosses like winners. But sooner or later we’ll miss one. It’s just how it goes. Then…who knows? We’re doin’ good, but we’ve also pissed some powerful folks off. ATF. The Feebs. Hell, maybe even the CIA. Though I think they’re just pissed all the time.” She giggled. “You might be right.” He smiled, not wanting to move too close too soon. He could feel the vibe coming off her. There was something she wanted to ask but was afraid to, and he didn’t want to say anything for fear of scaring her off. He almost chuckled. Big ol’ Tubbs afraid to say anything. Sonny would laugh his ass off. But it was true. Instead he listened to the music and the tragic genius of Bird floating through the room. It reminded him of home. Before it all went sour. “You’re right.” “What?” Her voice startled him. He’d been lost in the music. “Right about what?” “What you’re thinking. That isn’t what I wanted to ask.” She took two steps closer, her look changing from a confident deputy marshal to a scared and lonely little girl. “I wanted to ask…if you thought we’d last.” He still didn’t move. “I think we’ll last as long as we want to, Mindy. No matter what happens with the rest of it. To be honest I don’t give a damn about the rest of it. And we can go as slow as you need. Hell, maybe as slow as I need. I just know I want to try.” “I’m sorry. I know we talked about this the other night. But…” Rico couldn’t stop himself. He took two steps and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s ok, Mindy. I’m scared, too. I got no fast line, no quick comeback. I want this to work, but I want you to want it to work, too. And so long as we both want that, it’s solid.” He felt her arms go around him. “I…I never thought this would happen.” “Neither did I. But I ain’t gonna walk away from it.” “Neither am I.” She stretched up and kissed him, pressing herself against him.

Just because I can... Breakfast amounted to a quick cup of coffee, and he was walking into the tenth floor suite right on schedule. Mindy smiled as he came in, her hair in a tight ponytail that accented her high cheekbones. “Morning, boss. The boys are actually here early, and Rico’s down rounding up donuts. Stan’s running around like a chicken with its head cut off.” She lowered her voice. “He’s kind of spun up about briefing his first op.” Sonny nodded. “Thought he might be. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” The elevator binging open and Rico came bobbing into the suite’s outer office, a box with a smiling donut printed on the side in his arms. “You wanna grab this before the grease ruins my suit? The things I do for this place…” “Don’t worry, Tubbs. We’ll bust another upscale dealer and get you a new one.” Grinning, Sonny took the box. “Now if you’ll get the door we can get this show on the road.” Stan kept moving from the big map of Miami to his notes and back again, and Sonny could see droplets of sweat on his forehead. Setting the box on the table, he walked over to the big guy and threw an arm around his shoulder. “Just chill, man. Pretend it’s another tech briefing or something. You got this. You’ve got a good plan and I trust you to execute it. Now take a deep breath, have a donut with sprinkles, and tell us all about it.” Stan nodded. “I know you’re right, Sonny. It’s just different.” “Then think of Gina trying on her old lady outfits.” “Naw. Then I couldn’t stand up for the briefing.” Stan laughed, shaking his head. “I think I’m good now, though. Thanks.” “Happens to all of us, partner.” Sonny winked and sat down, careful to avoid the head of the table. He wanted Stan to feel like he was just going over a plan with the team. That and the chair he’d picked was closer to the coffee. Stan made the best coffee he’d ever had. “Ok, ladies and ladies. Let’s get this rolling, shall we?” Stan grinned and walked over to the map. “The Outlaw’s here, on the edge of town close enough to the swamps to be an annex. Some nights you can even hear the banjos.” He waited for the chuckles to fade. “But bikers love the dump. You get all kinds. Hell’s Angels. Posers form the city on their Harley clones, Banditos. You name it. And it’s rough. Back when I was on Patrol we’d get a call every couple of days out there. Bar fights, stabbings, even a shooting or two.” Rico looked at Sonny and nodded. “Stan’s got this shit down,” he whispered. “And this fat bastard with the bad mustache and worse comb-over is Leo Morgan. He’s the main bartender and likely silent partner in the place. He’s one of those guys. Knows everything that goes on in the place but manages to stay out of the major trouble. He’s a fixer. Knows people who know people and all that shit. Only problem is most of his people are small time. Speed dealers and pot runners from the swamps mostly. He’s too damend lazy to move up in the food chain.” Dave shook his head. “So how does he help us?” “Great question. You win a donut. Did I forget to say there were prizes?” Stan winked, exaggerating the motion like a bad TV game show host. “He helps us because he knows the bikers. And most of them aren’t what you’d call lazy. The Angels move a ton of speed through this place, and some of the other clubs are starting to branch into coke. Easy to move and quick to sell for a nice profit.” “And you know this slug how?” “A couple years back we were working a speed ring run by some wanna-be Angels. Since my two OCB pals weren’t fashionable enough to make the grade, I slapped on some leathers and become Biggs. Just Biggs. A big, mean Cracker son of a bitch down from the panhandle. Before we could bust the ring the wanna-bes ran into the real Hell’s Angels and got the short end of the bloody stick. Last I heard the State Police still fish a piece or two of one of them out of the swamps about once a month. Anyhow, I’d buddied up to Leo as part of that op and just stayed in touch because…well…you never know when you might need a fat, lazy scumbag in our line of work.” Randy nodded. “Ain’t that the truth.” Stan nodded. “Plan’s simple. Tomorrow Biggs, his old lady Lexi, and his old Army buddy Patch are gonna roll in there and see what’s goin’ down. We’ll be wried, with Lester in the Roach Coach here” - he pointed at the map - “or someplace damned close to it. Good radio range and reception should be five-by even if there’s a storm. The rest of Team Elvis, meaning you, Dave, will be with him. I don’t expect any trouble, at least not this time out, but an extra gun could be a big help.” “So you’re going in strapped?” “Show me a biker who isn’t and I’ll show you an undercover cop who didn’t do his homework.” Stan grinned. “I’m gonna play it like I’m back in town with my old buddy and we’re lookin’ to do some business. We got some money we want to turn into more money, and maybe it’s bank job money and maybe it ain’t. That’ll get Leo’s heart pounding. And it’ll push the lazy bastard. The bigger the deal, the bigger his commission.” “What about the comms plan?” “Good question, Sonny. We’ll all be miced up, but no earpieces. I went with three mics in case one takes a dump. The odds of all three going out are low, but it’s a chance we have to take. I’ve got a safe phrase agreed with Lester, and if he hears me say it he’ll come running with Dave.” Sonny nodded. “Something tells me I don’t want to know what the phrase is. It’s a great plan.” “Why take Gina?” Dave looked over at the dark-haired detective. “Not that I doubt you’re capable at all, ma’am.” She smiled. “No offense taken. The Outlaw’s a bar where bikers bring their old ladies. It’s kind of how they show they’re being peaceful. So Stan bringing me shows he’s coming there without hostile intent.” Dave grinned. “You do know your bikers.” “I might have dated one once during my misspent girlhood.” She giggled. “But then I fell for this ol’ hound dog and he’s not cryin’ all the time any more. And neither am I.” Rico groaned. “Before this turns into some Elvis singalong, where are Sonny and I during it all?” “I’m leaving that up to you guys.” Stan shrugged. “It’s just a simple meet, and frankly you two would stand out at The Outlaw like I would at Rumours.” Sonny nodded. “He’s right. And you don’t need two lieutenants cramping your style. Let me know when the op’s a go and we’ll stay out of your way.” They were back in Castillo’s office, Sonny glaring at the fax machine, when Rico spoke. “That was a damned good plan. Our boy’s all grown up now.” “Yeah. And we’ll stand back and let him run it. Close enough to help if need be, but I think he’s right about the odds. He’s good in a fight, and we both know what Randy and Dave can do.” “What about Gina?” “She’ll do fine. We’ve seen her.” “Yeah, but things have changed Sonny. We know that. I don’t know if she does yet.” “Maybe not. But there’s enough cover there I’m not worried.” Sonny looked over at his partner. “You really think I’d send her in there if I was worried?” “No.” Rico grinned and leaned back. “I’m just worrying for no damned reason.” “No, for every good reason. It keeps me honest. And speaking of which I’d better call Pete and let him know what’s brewing.” Ricardo Tubbs looked over at Mindy’s plate and smiled. “Guess I must not have burned the shrimp too bad.” She giggled. “You didn’t burn a thing and you know it! That was one of the best meals I’ve had in ages.” They were sitting on the rooftop patio of Rico’s cover condo…the place he’d taken to calling Casa Cooper. Jazz floated out from the living room on the cooling night air, and the stars were just starting to peek out from behind the last rays of the sun. Raising his wine glass, Rico took a sip and smiled. Still, his mind wasn’t settled. Something was bothering Mindy, and it wasn’t in his nature to beat around the bush. But so far the evening had been magical, and he didn’t want to lose the mood. She’d let her hair down and changed into a short strapless blue dress that set off her freckles and showed more than it covered when she made the right moves. But she’d been quieter than usual, smiling at some jokes and then almost lost in herself the next moment. She hadn’t even noticed when he put her favorite Stan Getz disc on the turntable. It was the third sip of wine that did it. “What’s on your mind, Mindy?” She sighed. “How long have we been seeing each other?” “Three months, ten days, and maybe two hours. But who’s counting?” Her eyes went wide. “You knew that?” “Of course I did.” He smiled, letting her see behind the mask he usually kept up in his eyes. “And I gotta say I’ve enjoyed every minute of it. And I hope you have, too.” “You know I have.” She looked down at her plate. “Now I feel like a real asshole.” “Why?” “He didn’t tell you?” “Who?” “Now I’m a double asshole.” Mindy sighed and drank half her glass of wine in one gulp. “I asked Sonny the other day if you were real. I asked him not to tell you.” “And he wouldn’t. Not if you went to him like that and he gave his word. Sonny Crockett may be many things, but he keeps his word.” “So you’re not mad at him?” “No. You could have asked me, though.” “I had to be sure. I…” She finished the wine and poured another glass. “My last relationship didn’t end too well. He was married…” “And an asshole. Only an asshole does that.” “And my boss. I was really stupid.” “You’re allowed. Hell, we’re all allowed. I fell in love with a drug kingpin’s half daughter and before that a certifiable NYPD detective even my own partner back there warned me about.” Rico chuckled, trying to get her to smile again. “I thought I was the world’s biggest chump with women. Until I met Sonny. That honkey had NO luck with women. Until Jenny just fell into his lap.” “I feel like I messed this all up, Rico. You made great dinner, you’re playing my favorite stuff from The Sound, and here I am wondering if you’re serious.” “Like I said, you’re allowed. It’s a fair question. But I am serious.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “And it’s as real as you want it to be. And we can take as much time as you need. Hell, as much time as I might need. Not too long ago I was convinced I’d be stuck with the Job until the bitch kicked me to the curb with a gold watch that turned green after two months. So why don’t we try to find our way together, Mindy, and see where we end up?” “Deal.” She leaned across the table and kissed him “Although I know where I’d like to end up right now.” The kiss grew deeper, and he tasted the wine on her tongue. They held the last planning run-through just after three the next afternoon. “Leo comes on around four,” Stan explained. “And I want to be sure he’s got a few drinks in him before we waltz in like we own the place.” He looked around, happy with the nods he was getting and also with the wardrobe choices. He’d hauled out a set of old black leathers complete with chaps and a jacket adorned with just enough non-specific patches to make Biggs look dangerous. A quick trip to Property had seen Randy similarly equipped, although with a few less patches and slightly cleaner gear befitting a newer member of whatever club Biggs was in. And he couldn’t stop looking at Gina, even though she’d modeled the outfit the night before…and christened it in a manner that would make Lexi proud. She wore a cropped black t-shirt under a white leather vest and a black mini-skirt that ended about three inches below her curved backside. Black leather boots coming an inch above her knees finished the look. She’d teased her hair out, and was already affecting the flounce and swagger of a veteran old lady. Randy grinned, propping his boot-clad feet up on the table. “We gonna ride now, boss?” Sonny laughed. “Best ask sarge there. I got paperwork to do.” Stan grinned. He had been both surprised and grateful Sonny had benched himself and Rico for this one. Giving him room to do his best. But he also knew Sonny would be poised to help if needed…something he never would have trusted the old Sonny to do. “Well, guys and dolls, let’s get this done.” One thing he’d enjoyed about Biggs was it gave him a chance to ride, which he enjoyed even more now with Gina snugged up against him, her arms wrapped tight around his waist. Strapping on his old German helmet, he grinned at Randy and hit the starter, bringing the Harley thundering to life. They wrapped the throttles at each other a few times, then roared out of the garage and into the light and heat of a Florida summer afternoon. Feeling the big engine thumping under him, and imagining how Gina must be enjoying the ride, Stan maneuvered the big bike in and out of traffic. The wind felt good on his face, and he shot a grin to Randy who was matching him turn for turn. Gina gripped him with her strong thighs. “I forgot about the vibration on these things!” She had to shout over the wind and roar of the exhaust. “Yeah. A fringe benefit I guess.” They were starting to lose the thicker city traffic, and he twisted the throttle to feed more gas to the engine. His plan was to come at The Outlaw from a different angle. Put some more miles on the bikes so they looked like they’d ridden further than they had. Plus it was an excuse for a nice ride. And it gave Lester time to get into position and set up for business. This was the first time he’d taken the bike out with a passenger, and it took some getting used to. Gina had ridden before, so she moved with him instead of against him, making it all easier. Plus he liked feeling her against him. Shaking his head, he forced his attention back to the road and the reason they were on the bikes in the first place. Team Elvis still had a job to do. The Outlaw was little more than a box stuck on the side of one of the frontage roads feeding into the Interstates, no different from any number of dive bars and greasy spoons clinging to life on the edges of the concrete future. What made it stand out were the Harleys parked around it. Rolling in Stan counted at least twenty; half of them custom jobs worth more than he wanted to think about. Swinging his bike into an open spot in the dirt lot off to the side of the place, he waited for Randy to wheel in before killing the engine and pulling off his helmet. Gina climbed off first, turning so Randy didn’t see more than he needed to. Tugging the skirt back down, she smiled. “That was a hell of a ride, Biggs. You’ll get yours later tonight.” The sparkle in her eyes told him she wasn’t kidding. Stan grinned. “This is the place I was telling you about, Patch. Let’s get on in and see what’s about.” Inside it was what you’d expect from a dive bar. A battered black bar covered with stains, chips, and spilled beer, two coin-operated pool tables that had seen better decades and might possibly still be level. A handful of tables that had never been level scattered between the pool tables and a raised platform that passed for a dance floor, band stage, or center stage if someone’s old lady felt like putting on a show. Five guys sporting what Stan guessed were Hell’s Angels colors were back at the pool tables, three more sat at a table with a pitcher of beer between then, and the rest of the bikers lining the bar sported no colors. Throwing his shoulders back, Stan swaggered in like he owned the place. He could hear Gina’s heels clicking behind him, and from the way eyes were turning he knew she had her walk going. And from the way those same eyes looked away he guessed Randy was doing the same. Normally the quieter of the two deputy marshals, Randy Mather had a slow-burning temper and could crush any attitude he came across in seconds. Stan figured the only trouble they might find would come from the Angels, and he was counting on Gina’s presence to signal he wasn’t looking for trouble. He noticed a few of them had girls with them, too, and breathed a sigh of relief inside. He pushed his way to the bar, not looking to the right or left. Sending the clear signal that whoever happened to be there didn’t matter. “Leo! You fat fuck! Lexi, Patch, and I need beer. Been a long dry ride.” Leo hadn’t changed a bit. Maybe the mustache was a bit stragglier and the hair thinner, but he was still a fat, greasy piece of shit with less ambition than a slug. “Biggs! Shit. I ain’t seen you in what, six months?” “Maybe more. Had some business up in the Panhandle with my bro Patch here.” “Patch?” Leo looked up from the pitcher he was filling. “Why do they call you that?” “Cause the last guy who asked me that needed one after he asked.” Randy leaned on the bar, his grin not a grin at all. “Oh. Yeah. Ha, ha. Here’s your beer, Biggs. Five bucks.” Stan slapped a five on the bar. “And three glasses, you asshole. I don’t remember you being this damned stupid last time I was here.” One of the guys at the bar turned. “Hey, bro. Chill out.” Randy turned. “Fuck you. We’re here to get a drink and Biggs says this guy’s a friend of his. Mind your own damned business before I mind it for you.” The biker started to move, then looked in Randy’s eyes and stopped. Stan followed his glance, and realized the man’s pale blue eyes were ice cold and without expression. “Sorry, man. You’re right. Ain’t my affair. And after a long ride you need beer.” He tossed a five on the bar. “Next round’s on me.” “Appreciate it.” Randy held his gaze until the man lowered his head. Leo planted each glass on the bar with a thud. “Who’s the lady, Biggs? Last time you were here you were flyin’ solo.” “This here’s Lexi. Picked her up in the Panhandle. She said she’d never seen Miami, so here we are.” Gina grinned. “And you can quit lookin’ at me like that, fatso. I ain’t for sale, and neither are the tits and ass.” “Sorry, Lexi. I didn’t mean nothin’. Any friend of Biggs is welcome here.” Someone from down the bar shouted, and he turned his head. “Be right there, asshole!” He shrugged. “Let me go toss some Bud at these pricks and I’ll be right back.” Gina leaned on Stan’s shoulder. “What an ass.” “Yeah, he is. But he’s all we got. So we’re stuck with the greaseball.” He took a sip of the beer and winced. “Worse than I remembered. Almost makes you wonder if he doesn’t just pipe the pissers back through the lines.” “Sorry about that. They’re a bunch of pricks anyhow.” Leo grinned, showing teeth as bad as his combover. “So what brings you back this way?” Stan motioned him closer, trying to avoid getting in range of his breath. “Partly pleasure” - he smacked Gina on the backside and she giggled - “and partly business. Me and Patch got some business done in the Panhandle like I said, but it ain’t easy to turn money into something that makes more money up there. Especially when people that way are lookin’ for the money.” Leo nodded. “Yeah, that can be tough. But you come to the right place, Biggs.” “Maybe so. See, the thing is Patch is picky about what his money does. How much comes back after he pays some out.” “Only way to be.” Leo was practically drooling, and not because he’d gotten a look down Gina’s shirt. “You know I got connections, Biggs. Maybe I can help.” Randy looked around. “Seems a little damned public for business talk, don’t you think, fatso?” “Naw, not with these boys. Now that bunch back at the pool tables is different, but they ain’t here.” He looked back to Stan. “I can set you up with guns, weed, speed. Whatever you need.” Randy shook his head. “I like small and portable with a big return. I’m thinkin’ something in powder line.” “Biggs. Man. You know I ain’t into that stuff. But I might know a guy. How much are we talkin’ about?” “At least twenty keys.” Leo’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Twenty keys?” He struggled to keep his voice down. “No, he said at least twenty keys.” Stan shrugged. “What can I say? Business went well up there.” “I thought you meant one or two keys. But at least twenty?” “Think about your commission, Leo. We could go up to ten percent if you get us the right guy.” Randy turned loose the grin that wasn’t a grin again. “But you get one shot at this fatso. Fuck it up and we’re history. And you don’t get paid until the deal goes down, so don’t get any ideas.” “Relax, Patch! I get it. It’s business, right? This ain’t my normal line, but since it’s Biggs I’ll do what I can. Like I said, I might know a guy.” “How long?” “Come back tomorrow night. I”ll know by then if I can swing that much weight.” Leo shook his head. “At least that much weight. Yeah, yeah. I know. What’s the max, just in case I trip over some drunk Columbian with a cargo ship full of blow.” Stan looked at Randy, who gestured with his fingers. “Forty keys max. This time, anyhow. It works out there may be return business.” Gina tapped Randy on the shoulder. “What about that thing, Patch? You said to remind you about that thing.” “Yeah, girl. Biggs, thank her for me, would you?” Stan grinned and swept Gina up in his arms, giving her a sloppy kiss and a good grope to stay in the cover. He almost laughed when she retuned the grab, and then realized she wasn’t in cover. So he grabbed her again. “Anyhow, while they’re takin’ care of business I’ll finish ours.” Randy chuckled. “I got a think about flake, see. It’s gotta be Bolivian. Somethin’ in the dirt down there. I don’t know. It’s just smoother. Easier to cut, too.” Stan came up for air, feeling Gina’s arms still around him. “So that’s at least twenty keys but no more than forty of Bolivian marching dust. We’ll be back tomorrow night.” They settled into a free table close to the door, Gina wiggling her way onto Stan’s lap with a playful smile. After a few minutes of what passed for biker small talk, Stan finished his beer and carefully got to his feet. Gina’s wiggling had been a bit more determined that he’d expected, and standing wasn’t comfortable yet. “Let’s head into town and find us a crash pad, Patch. Gotta get the old lady taken care of, too.” Randy chuckled. “That you do, Biggs.” He turned back to the bar and locked eyes with Leo. “We’ll be back tomorrow night, fatso.” Once they were outside, Gina tugged at Stan’s shoulder. “You’d better get me home quick, big guy, or I won’t be responsible for my actions.” “You got it.” Stan turned to Randy and shrugged an apology. “You know how it is, Patch.” “I do. Catch you at that spot you told me about tomorrow. I run into any of the others I’ll let ‘em know.” Sonny had spent the afternoon going over the bust files one more time, looking any scrap of information they might have missed. Randy’s return was a relief. “Where’s Stan?” “He..uh..had to take care of something.” Sonny pretended not to see Randy’s face turning red. “I’ll let him slide. You can report in. Lester and Dave aren’t back yet.” “That Leo’s a small-time punk. Stan was right about that. But he was also right about the guy’s greed. I think he’s too scared of Stan to try a rip, but that don’t mean he won’t call the wrong dealer.” “How’d you frame it?” “Between twenty and forty keys of Bolivian marching dust. He gets a ten percent commission after we take possession. He’s got incentive all right, boss.” “What’s your take? I’ll check with Stan and Gina tomorrow.” “He’ll do it if he can. Little shit’s greedy as hell. But he’s also careful. I don’t think a tap would have helped. He ain’t the kind to use a phone. Like that Holmes bastard when we went after him.” “When’s the next meet?” “Tomorrow night. He says he’ll know for sure by then.” “Which means he’s more connected than he lets on. Stan might have gotten a sense of that.” “I think he did, boss. He didn’t seem surprised when Leo bit.” “He’s got good instincts for that crowd. I’ll run through the tape stuff with Lester and see if he picked up anything else.” “Yeah. The only thing that struck me were the eight Hell’s Angels in the place. They were keepin’ to themselves but Leo didn’t like ‘em much at all.” “Might be history there. We’ll run it and see. Anyhow, good job. It’s close enough to quitting we can call it.” Randy shifted, looking uncomfortable in the leathers. “It’ll be good to get out of this rig. And then maybe we can meet up later at The Sanctuary? Have a drink or two and just relax before this thing heats up.” He grinned. “Now I sound like Dave and his damned spiders.” “And I’ll bet he wants to see Debbie again.” Sonny looked out the window and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I might bring Jenny if that’s cool?” “Hell, she’s pretty much one of us, boss. She’s drawn blood.” “Yeah.” He remembered the man who’d been sent to kill Trudy in the hospital. Jenny had put three .45 slugs in his chest in a group he could cover with the palm of his hand. “That she has. Rico should be back soon, so I’ll let him know. Plan on 2000 unless you hear different.” “Roger that, boss. See you then.” A quick call to Rico’s car phone got him on board, and then he called the boat. Jenny picked up on the second ring. “Hey, babe. It’s me. You want to stop by The Sanctuary tonight? Randy was asking.” “I’d love to, Sonny. I just got back from a meeting with Angie. I think we’ve got a loan agreement set up for Vellamo. It’s going to be wonderful.” He could hear the happiness in her voice and smiled. “It sounds like it, darlin’. I’ll pick you up as soon as I’m done here.” “And I got a new dress. You’ll love it.” He was still smiling when he hung up the phone. He thought about calling Stan but thought better of it. From what Randy hinted his evening was already planned, and he didn’t want to get Jenny and Gina in the same place. He wasn’t sure what it was about Gina that sent Jenny off, but he knew her mood had been fragile lately and he didn’t want to do anything to provoke it. All he knew was it was good to hear her happy again. She was waiting for him belowdecks, wearing a pale yellow dress that showed off her deep tan to perfection. Light, almost sheer cotton, it moved with her like fog surrounding her body. Like most things she wore it was short and easy to slip out of, and she smiled as she turned for him to see. “Angie helped me pick it out.” “It’s pretty,” he agreed, taking the two steps needed to take her in his arms. “And I’m glad you and Angie are getting along.” “Believe it or not we have a lot to talk about. Not like Trudy and me, but it’s close.” She stretched up on her toes and kissed him. “Now let’s go see Robbie and the rest of them. It’ll be nice to laugh.” They grabbed a quick burger on the way, and walked through the doors of the club just after eight. As usual the big doorman let them through with a grin. “Mr. Cooper’s already here with his date, Mr. Burnett. I’ll let Mr. Cann know you’re here.” “Thanks.” Sonny had to admit Robbie knew how to staff his club. They always used cover names, and the team’s table was held for them most nights until ten. After a couple of weeks Sonny told Robbie not to short himself a table on the weekends unless they called ahead. Looking through the haze of cigarette smoke he saw Rico wave from the back table. Mindy sat next to him, and she returned Jenny’s wave with a smile. Taking her hand, Sonny moved through the crowd with Burnett’s usual forceful assurance, clearing a path with a simple stare. “Solid, man. Jenny! You look lovely as ever.” “Not as lovely as Mindy.” Jenny sat down with a smile. “You look so happy. That’s good.” Rico looked at Sonny and gave one of his ‘what are you gonna do’ shrugs. “I ordered drinks already. Didn’t think you’d be long behind me. And now they’re talking about dresses.” “Yeah, but it’s cool.” “You hear anything from Stan?” “Randy, actually. Seems Stan had plans of the Italian variety.” Sonny chuckled. “Sounds like everything went according to plan. Lester’s getting tape ready and should have something in the morning. Leo sounds like the usual kind of greedy punk, but Randy thinks he might produce something.” “And speaking of Randy…” Rico nodded toward the door. “He’s here and Debbie’s already spotted Dave.” Before Sonny could comment, Robbie Cann came out of the back office and headed for their table. “Sonny! Good to see you, brother!” Sonny stood and gave Robbie a hug. “Same back at you, Robbie. Been a few days, hasn’t it?” “More like a week. But who’s counting?” Robbie grinned. “Maria wanted me to say hello next time I saw you. And to invite you and Jenny over for dinner.” “That sounds great, Robbie. I’m sure she’d love it.” Sonny’s smile wilted on his face. “We just caught a case that could be a bit involved, so I don’t know when…” “It’s an open invite, Sonny. And then you can see how big your god-son’s getting.” “Yeah. I’d like that.” Randy finally shrugged and left Dave talking with the blonde at the bar. “Debbie ain’t lettin’ him go just yet, and I’m thirsty.” He shook hands with Robbie. “Good to see you again, man.” “Right back at ya, jarhead.” Robbie smiled. “I’ll let you get down to it. Just wanted to say hey to Sonny before it got too busy over here.” “Lester said he might be by later, but I wouldn’t hold your breath. He’s ass-deep in all that electronic stuff he and Stan get off on, and he was mutterin’ something about a new scrubber. I didn’t wanna ask.” “Some new toy Pete sent over. I guess the Federal grand juries are loving the tapes those two produce, so the U.S. Attorney’s Office footed the bill for another toy.” Randy shook his head. “Man, I remember when we had to beg for government surplus ammo.” “It’s call success, pal. So long as we keep turning it out, we keep getting the pretty toys. But the first time we fall on our collective asses…” “Don’t remind me, boss.” Randy poured himself a beer from the pitcher on the table. “Here’s to Leo not being a dry hole.” Sonny sat down next to Jenny, he she smiled before turning back to Mindy and their conversation. Pouring himself a beer from the pitcher, he sipped at it while he watched the crowd. Since he’d cut back on the booze he found it easier to keep an eye on what was going on around him. Easier to get a feel for the crowd and read its mood. And fewer headaches in the morning was another plus. “So what’s the plan if Leo turns out to be a bust?” Rico had given up and moved to sit next to Sonny. “Your guess is as good as mine, Rico. We might have to dig up Izzy and see if he knows squat.” “You ask me the fat bastard will come through.” Randy took another drink of his beer. “His eyes lit up like a Goddamn Christmas tree when he heard ten percent commission and up to forty keys. You could damn near hear the ten key clicking in his head as he did the math.” “Any chance of a rip?” “Always, but this guy seems genuinely scared of Stan. If he can’t find the guy he’ll put us in touch with someone who can.” Sonny nodded. “Makes sense. I just wish there was a plan B somewhere. I don’t like following trails of broken deals and just hoping to get lucky.” “You and me both.” Rico sighed. “I got faith in Switek, don’t get me wrong. But damn! I wish we had something to fall back on.” Sonny looked over at Randy. “And Leo knows the Bolivian bit, right?” “Hell yes he does. I laid that one on thick like I said. That’s the only kicker, though. He could set us up with someone else and try to pass it off as Bolivian. And you can bet I ain’t doin’ a line of blow just to check the origins.” “The lab can pick that up, but it takes time we don’t have.” Sonny turned the problem over in his mind. How could they pull it off? Then he hit the Burnett answer. “Sniff it or some shit and then go at him with full attitude. Tell him it don’t smell right and that you know Bolivian smells different. He’ll likely piss his pants, and you’ll know inside of five seconds if he’s screwing you or not.” “And if he is?” Sonny started to answer, and the forced his mind to change gears. “Burnett would shoot him, but we don’t have that leeway. Smack him around a bit and see if something falls out. If he’s just a rip job, then we have no choice but to start over and hope the whole thing isn’t blown.” “And on that note I’m gettin’ another scotch.” Rico waved down one of the harried waitresses. “You want a Black Jack, Sonny?” “Sure. Just one, though.” “Man, that girl got you wrapped around her little finger.” Rico’s voice was teasing, but Sonny could see approval in his eyes. “Yeah. And I did need to cut back a bit.” They were almost back to the marina before Jenny turned to Sonny. “I told Mindy she didn’t have to worry about Rico at all. But she needed to be sure. He’s been hurt enough.” “That he has.’ Sonny kept his eyes focused on the road. “How’d she take it?” “Good, I think. She’s still not sure, and I really don’t want to see Rico hurt.” “You had fun, then?” “Yes. Lots. She’s fun to talk to, and Randy has such funny stories. And watching Dave with Debbie always makes me laugh. He’s so lost without his rifle.” “Yeah. It’s kinda all he knows, I think.” Sonny shook his head. “I know how that feels.” “So do I. But we don’t have to feel it anymore.” She slipped her dress up around her waist as soon as they pulled into their parking spot. “We have better things to feel.”

And no, we didn't plan to run these at the same time. I just got bit by the bug again. And for those of you keeping track, this is a Task Force story so post-series. “So where do you think they went?” Sonny Crockett looked over at Ricardo Tubbs, keeping one eye focused on the traffic around them. “I don’t know. Angie wouldn’t tell me. She just gave me that look and said ‘mind yo own damned business, blondie’.” “And I can hear her saying just that.” Rico laughed, looking out the Ferrari’s window at the cars around them. When he spoke again his voice was lower. “When you gonna tell her about Jenny?” “Hell, I think Jenny already did. But you know how she is. Angie loves her already.” Sonny chuckled, thinking back on his blonde partner. “I don’t know how she does it, but she did it again. It helps that Angie’s up to her neck in Caitlin’s House and getting that ready to open.” He sighed. “I wish I had more time for it, honestly. But with Marty gone…” “Someone’s gotta run the store. At least our caseload’s been light.” Rico chuckled. “Gives me more time to swing by Downbeat.” “And I’ll bet Mindy hates that.” Now it was Sonny’s turn to chuckle. “How’s she getting on with Gina?” “Good, but I think she misses Trudy. Those two hit it off really well.” “Yeah. And Gina’s new.” “You mean she wasn’t there when we took down Maynard and Moncado.” “Yeah, I guess I do.” Sonny tuned into the underground garage and idled toward his usual parking spot. “That really brought us together.” “Her being married to Stan buys her some credit, but as far as the marshals are concerned she’s still on the outside.” Sonny nodded. “Yeah. And I can’t make them accept her. That’s just plain stupid.” He got out of the car. “But she’ll be back with her unit soon, and with Caitlin’s House she’ll have plenty to do. Stan’ll miss her.” “Yeah, but give him and Lester a new radio to play with and he’ll forget soon enough.” “True enough, partner.” Sonny laughed, even though he knew how lucky they were to have Stan and Lester on the task force. He still wanted to slug himself for missing how good a cop Stan was over the years. One of the many things he wasn’t proud of when he looked back at his time with OCB. Mindy was sitting at her desk in the outer office as usual, her red hair up in a tight bun with two loose curls draping down on either side of her face. “Morning boss. Hey Rico. Everybody else is here, except for our two shooters.” “And what was their excuse this time?” “Reaction drills.” She smiled. “Or so they said.” “Tell ‘em my feelings are starting to hurt. With then being away so much it makes me think they don’t like us.” Sonny smiled. He knew how much range time it took to stay as proficient as Randy Mather and Dave Blair were with their rifles, let alone the pistols and other weapons they used so frequently. But he still had to give them crap. Mindy giggled. “I’ll let them know. And you should know the fax machine has been cranking out things nonstop since I got here.” “One of these days I am gonna shoot that damned thing.” With a sigh, Sonny turned to Rico. “You know where I’ll be for the next hour or so, partner.” “That’s what you get for being in charge.” Rico grinned. Shaking his head, Sonny turned and headed into the inner suite. He knew Rico wanted some time with Mindy, and he didn’t blame his partner one bit. Between Valerie and Angelina Rico had been dealt a bad hand when it came to the ladies. Of course, his hadn’t been any better. Until Jenny. The pile of paper on the fax machine made Sonny want to turn around and head back out the door and keep driving until he ran out of road. But he knew Mindy would never let him live it down, so he flopped down in the chair behind Castillo’s desk and started plodding through each page, trying to separate the routine from anything that might prove interesting. Chief Deputy Washington had put the Task Force on leave after Trudy had been shot, and he kept them pretty much under wraps until after Marty and Trudy’s wedding. After that he’d pulled Sonny aside and announced they’d keep handling smaller cases until the couple returned. “Hell, you all cleared my desk of more big cases in three months than my whole damned unit had done in two years. You’ve earned a bit of R & R.” Sonny couldn’t protest. They’d put in hard hours, and paid for it in their own blood. First Castillo went down at the end of the Moncado/Maynard bust and then Trudy had been targeted by one of Castillo’s oldest enemies. Stan and Lester had taken their own lumps curtesy of Moncado, and he’d lost track of the number of times he and Rico had cheated death or injury. Maybe it was time to stop pushing their luck for a bit and gather some intel and work the easy cases. The fax machine beeped for attention, and he looked down at the flickering digital panel. “Out of paper, are you? Guess I’d damend well better get you some more or you’ll beep all afternoon and I will shoot you.” Still grumbling, Sonny got up and headed for the conference room. There had to be paper somewhere out there. Much as he hated to admit it, he had no idea where Mindy hid their stash of paper. Gina looked up from a notebook as he walked out of the office. “Good morning, Sonny. I’d guess from that racket you’re out of paper.” “Yeah. You know where she keeps the stash?” “The cabinet under the map.” She smiled. “And your secret’s safe with me.” “Thanks, darlin’.” He smiled and walked over, pulling out a ream and closing the door. “How’s things going?” “Here? Good. I do miss working with the girls, though. At home? Fantastic. I couldn’t be happier.” “I’m glad to hear that. Really, Gina, I am. And I understand about the girls. At least there you get to see some kind out outcome. Good or bad. Here…it’s hard to tell some days.” He smiled. “You can go back over there as soon as Marty and Trudy get back, if that’s what you want to do.” She nodded. “I think it is. You’ve got great people here, Sonny. The best I’ve ever worked with. A few years ago you couldn’t have pried me away. But now…” “You need to be where your heart is. I get that. And with Caitlin’s House you’ll have another option for those girls.” He looked at the map of Miami mounted on the wall, covered with zone grids and constantly updated surveillance zones and notes. “This? This is where my heart is. I don’t think I could ever leave it now.” She nodded. “What about Jenny?” She shook her head. “You know, I didn’t want to like her. I don’t know why. But you just can’t not like her.” Sonny nodded. He understood exactly what Gina meant. She’d wanted to see him suffer through something like he’d made her suffer not so many years back. “She’s good with the Job. Hell, she likes everyone I work with. She and Trudy are like sisters, and sometimes I’m not sure she isn’t Marty’s long-lost sister.” “I know. There’s something about her.” Gina stared at her hands for a long moment and then shook her head. “Anyhow, you’d better refill that damned machine before I shoot it.” “Aye, aye, sergeant!” Sonny tossed off a sloppy salute and turned back to the office. Try as he might he kept hearing what Jenny had said to him and Trudy in the NAS Key West medical center. She’s lucky he’ll have her. I still don’t know what that really meant. Refreshed, the fax machine spit out twenty more pages before pausing for breath. Pulling the last stack, he finished sorting and sighed. The useless stack ran to almost fifty pages, with only fifteen in the worth following up pile. Pulling the fifteen back, he started reading through them. Looking for anything they could sink their teeth into. The longer they stayed out of action, the more Sonny worried the Task Force would either get soft or be picked apart by some other, jealous agency. They’d made enemies in their short history, but also enough powerful friends to provide cover. But if you stopped producing the friends forgot your name and the enemies just circled closer. So far he’d been focusing their efforts on building intelligence networks in what he called areas of interest; places in the city where the drug trade was on the rise or other activity was developing that might pull them in. They’d built some handy target files for the Marshal’s Service, and he knew through Pete that some of their product made it to the DEA and occasionally the FBI. But he knew that wasn’t enough. Not for a system increasingly driven by arrest numbers. So he picked through the faxes, looking for anything that might be worth their time. Patterns, new things, stuff other agencies might have missed. They still had the luxury of picking their cases, and he’d turned a couple of dead-end jobs back to Pete, confident they’d been sent over by the FBI in an attempt to make them look bad. But sooner or later they’d have to take one. Unless he found something better. Something on the next to last sheet looked familiar, and he flipped back through until he found it. And then found it again. One more time and he knew he had something. Gathering up the pages he headed for the big conference table. Rico looked up from the sheets. “So what did you see? I’m lookin’ at a mix of coke shipments that got busted. Small players, smallish loads.” “Yeah, but look at how they came in, Rico. By boat. Always at night. And always down the coast.” “So we got a small-time chump on the rise. You think that’s worth our time?” “On its own? No. But look at the product.” “I don’t…” Rico read through the reports again and whistled. “Now I do. High grade Bolivian. You don’t see that every day.” “No. And not from the same supplier each time.” Sonny looked around the table wishing Dave and Randy were there. But he hadn’t wanted to wait for them. “I’m open to suggestions, people.” Stan nodded. “I can see it, Sonny. And why down the coast? That’s only good if you’re trying to stay off radar.” Lester looked at the smaller area map on the wall. “That’s someone who knows patrol routes and how to use ground clutter. Stealth instead of speed.” “And we don’t know anything about the boat.” Gina looked up from her sheet. “The punks they grabbed with the dope never know anything about the runner.” Mindy nodded slowly. “And the quantity keeps going up. Someone’s getting more confident. One thing bothers me, though. The busts. Who’s making them and how?” “Looks like a mix of DEA and Metro-Dade.” Rico looked up from his own notes. “With one thing in common…an anonymous tip called in less than an hour after the drop.” Stan nodded. “Sounds like someone clearing out competition to me. What better way than to drop a dime on your competition? Especially if it’s after the drop. Then it doesn’t come back on you.” “Hell, we only noticed because we get all the feeds. Metro and DEA aren’t gonna trade that level of info unless someone makes them.” Rico turned to Sonny. “You gonna pitch this one to Pete?” “I think so. We’ve got someone here who’s got a pipeline to prime Bolivian flake, knows how to move it, and is busy taking out competition by using law enforcement to do their dirty work. That’s one smart group.” Lester cleared his throat. “You think they operate out of Lauderdale, coming down the coast like that?” “Could be. Or maybe their pipeline just hits the US there. It’s an easier operating environment than Miami.” Sonny looked around the table. “If you’re all good with it, I’ll pitch it to Pete. I don’t see an issue. I don’t think he wants us on the bench any longer than we need to be there. At the very least we’ll get some more intel for Gina and Mindy to dig through and see if our idea’s full of shit or not.” Chief Deputy Pete Washington was black as night, but he talked like an old-time Southern Cracker sheriff. He picked up on the third ring. “Lucky you got me, Sonny. I was just on the way out for some good barbecue.” “I won’t keep you, Pete. I was looking through the faxes and I think we got something.” Sonny outlined what they’d gone over. “If you think it’s worth the time we’d like to take a look.” There was a pause. “Why not? Your gut tellin’ you this, son?” “Yeah. It just looks too damned convenient for someone.” “Then run with it. I’ll have one of my boys run the files over if you give me the reference numbers.” Sonny read them back from the faxes. “I’ll have Gina and Mindy run it through the mill. We’ll have a good read by tomorrow morning if not sooner if this is worth chasing.” “Hold you to it, son.” Sonny grinned as the phone buzzed in his ear. Pete wasn’t one to waste time if a good lunch was in the offering. But he also didn’t mess around. You were either onto something or you weren’t, and he wasn’t the least shy about making the call. True to his word, one of the deputies from the office showed up just after one, about the same time Dave and Randy rolled in from the range. Sonny signed for the files and then turned to the two former scout-snipers. “While you two have been burning taxpayer money on the range we might have picked up a new case.” “Blow it out your ass.” Dave grinned as he spoke. “While you all been sitting in here sucking down coffee we’ve been working. And damned hard I might add.” Randy chuckled. “Had to give those new Remingtons a good shoot-in, boss. Some moron messed with the scopes so it was rough going for a bit.” Dave nodded. “I find out which jackass at the main office thought he was ‘helping’ he’s gonna need help eating for the next few weeks.” He looked at the stack of folders in Sonny’s hands. “That the new case?” “Could be. Gina and Mindy are gonna scrub it and see. It looked good based on the faxes, though.” “Let me guess…he asked what your gut said, didn’t he?” “Yeah.” Randy chuckled. “No surprise. And he backed your gut, didn’t he?” “Yeah. He always that predictable?” “More or less. If he likes you leastwise and trusts your judgement.” Randy looked over at Dave. “Guess we’d better get ready for some more overwatch.” “I’ll keep you posted.” Sonny grinned and headed for the intel office. Normally Trudy’s, Gina had put her own touches on it in one or two places, most obviously with a picture of Stan in his best Elvis pose. “Here’s those files, Gina. Mindy should be in shortly to help out, and Dave and Randy just got back if you need another set of eyes.” “Thanks, Sonny.” She gave a thin smile. “And about Jenny earlier…” “Don’t worry about it, darlin’. Hell, you’ve got a whole life ahead of you now.” She looked at the picture, and Sonny was glad to see the love in her eyes pushed everything else aside. “Yes, I do, don’t I? He’s a good man.” “One of the best. And I was an asshole for not seeing it sooner.” He smiled. “Let me know what those files bring out.” The sun was starting to sink behind Miami’s growing skyline when Sonny called an end to the day. “Go on home, get some sleep, have some fun,” he said with a smile. “We might be working tomorrow.” Mindy nodded. “We will. No question. Gina and I don’t have the full analysis yet, but your gut was right, Sonny. Something is up with those loads and those busts.” “Great work, ladies. So yeah, be sure to have fun tonight. You know what it’s like once a case comes on.” Sonny winked at Rico, chuckling when his partner flipped him off. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m outa here before that damned machine starts beeping again.” The drive to the marina fit like an old, familiar shirt, and Sonny was on autopilot most of the way. Letting the Ferrari settle into a slow pace and not pushing things. He knew that would come soon enough. As he walked down the dock, he looked for the telltale candle showing which boat they’d be in that night. Jenny had a strange habit of moving from his St Vitus Dance to her Vellamo almost at random, showing where she was with a flickering candle either on the stern or below in the saloon. He’d found he didn’t really care either way. So long as he knew he was coming home to her it was all good. The candle glittered like a single star on Vellamo’s stern rail, and he smiled as he walked up the gangplank. Her boat was slightly smaller than his, but she’d done all the interior work herself and it had a personal touch his own would never quite have. She was sitting in the stern seats, her long blonde hair flowing around her shoulders and wearing a thin light yellow t-shirt and the shortest shorts he’d ever seen. She’d been looking out over the water but seemed to sense his approach. “I’m glad you’re back. It’s been a lonely day.” Sitting down next to her, he slipped his arm around her deceptively strong shoulders and felt her snuggle into his side. “You don’t have to hang around the boats all day, you know. I’m sure Angie would appreciate the help if you wanted to work with her. I thought that was something you were interested in.” “I am. I love the idea of helping girls who have problems. And that you’ve given your house and money to it is something I love even more. It’s just…” “I know. It takes time.” He felt her shift, and smelled her hair as she moved even closer. “Angie’s not an easy one to know, either.” “Oh, no. I like her. She’s fun. I…” She looked up at him, her blue eyes sparkling. “It’s still too close for me. I was almost one of them.” “Yeah. I’m not pushing at all. I just wanted to remind you it’s there when you’re ready if you want to do it.” “Thank you. And I never felt you were pushing. There’s…I don’t know. Something in the air I don’t like. It’s been bothering me the last few days now.” “Yeah. I noticed you weren’t sleeping well. Is there anything I can do?” She shook her head. “I don’t know yet. Right now it’s just a feeling.” She looked up at him again. “Can we take the boat out? I’ll handle her and then you can handle me. I’ve got dinner already made, so we can eat out there.” “Sure.” Sonny nodded, more than vaguely uneasy. One thing he’d learned very quickly was to trust Jenny’s feelings, no matter how strange they seemed. She’d been right about too damned much for him to do anything else. Shrugging off his light blue blazer he got to his feet and started gathering in lines. “Let’s get this ship under way, captain.” She smiled, getting to her feet with a grace that always took his breath away. “Don’t forget, once we get out there it’s my turn.” It was well after midnight when Vellamo coasted back to her spot on the dock. Sonny was at the wheel, Jenny curled up on the cushions finally resting after their bouts on the water. As he cut the auxiliary motor and settled the boat into her spot, Sonny looked down at Jenny and smiled. She looked so peaceful now, a far cry from what she’d been like not even an hour ago. A thin blanket covered her naked body, and he knew he’d need to have her daub his back with Bactine before heading in come morning. Still, it bothered him. She’d been more desperate than ever before, except for maybe their first few times. Whatever was bothering her was bad, and he hoped he could do something to help. He tied up the boat before carrying her below to the pilot berth just off the main cabin. But he also knew he couldn’t push. She stirred in her sleep, sighing as he settled her into the bunk and got undressed to join her. All he knew is he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He wouldn’t make the mistake with her he’d made with Caitlin. Morning found him sitting with his back to the transom stairs, wincing as Jenny dabbed the deep scratches on his back. She’d giggled when she saw them. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Sonny.” “It’s fine. I don’t mind. Just be glad I don’t work without a shirt. You’d never hear the end of it.” She giggled again and finished her work. “There. Let it dry for a few minutes so it doesn’t stain the shirt and you’ll be good as new. Good enough for another moonlight cruise.” “Maybe so.” Turning, he kissed her, feeling the desperate passion in her return kiss. “If anything goes strange today, call me, ok? Stan can transfer the call anywhere if I’m away from my desk.” He saw the doubt in her eyes. “Promise me?” “I promise.” She smiled, and the robe fell away from her body as she stood to hug him. “I never should have said anything.” “No it’s good you did. I’d worry either way, but this way I know it’s something that bothers you and that you’ll be careful.” He kissed her again. “Do you have your maid of honor gift?” “Yes!” She giggled and lifted one of the cushions to show a Safari Arms MatchMaster .45 ACP. “It’s just like hers!” “Keep it close just in case. I’ll call if it doesn’t look like I’ll be back until late.” He kissed her again, seeing the light in her eyes dim just a fraction. He knew she’d tell him when she was ready, but it still bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Ricardo Tubbs looked at his face in the mirror, wondering again at the smile lighting it up. His beard was starting to grow back in, in no small part due to the woman sleeping in the next room who’d seen an old picture of him with it and said it looked hot. It had taken Trudy’s shooting to bring them together, and now he couldn’t see them ever being apart. All he could do is hope Mindy felt the same way. His luck with women had never been good. Not as bad as Sonny’s, granted, but like his partner Rico had more or less resigned himself to being married to the Job. At least until Mindy came along. She was beautiful, smart, and liked jazz as much as he did. Plus she had her head screwed on straight. Coming from a bad family, she knew the dark side of life and could appreciate the good. Sometimes he thought that had been Valerie’s biggest problem. She liked wallowing in the bad and could never rise above it to see the good. Or she didn’t want to. Either way it was the same. Angelina. There had never been a chance there. He knew it, but it didn’t change his heart. But when he finally heard the tape of the Calderone woman killing his son, and the entire family being wiped out by Maynard’s Nungs, he knew that part of his life was over. Closed like his time with Valerie. In spite of himself he’d been jealous of Crockett and Jenny. At least until Mindy came into his life. “You look like you’re deep in some thought or another.” He could see her in the mirror, wearing nothing but her freckles and a smile. He’d made it a study to kiss every freckle on her body, and he wasn’t even a quarter of the way through. “Not really. Just thinking how lucky I am.” “How lucky we are.” She came up behind him and hugged him, kissing the small of his back between his shoulder blades. “I’d given up just like you had.” “Yeah. Then we end up on Task Force Love Boat and look what happens.” She laughed, a musical sound that always made him smile. “Maybe we should suggest that name to Sonny?” “He might go for it. Just don’t say it around Castillo. He’d give us that damned look of his.” “Yeah.” She lowered her eyes. “I can’t forget him when he heard you call 10-13 when Trudy was shot. It was like he was a dead man himself. I had to walk him to the car.” “And if it hadn’t been for Jenny, Menton might have killed him in the end.” “Yeah. She and Sonny are scary.” She hugged him tighter. “I’ve never seen anything like Sonny when he went into…what is it?” “Burnett mode.” Rico nodded. “Yeah. I saw it when he thought he was Burnett and ripped two cartels to pieces on his own. And that bit he did on Menton? That was scarier because he did it in a much shorter time. Me? I’m just a street cop in a fancy suit who likes pretending he’s other people.” “I don’t know. I kinda like that Teddy Prentiss guy.” He smiled at her in the mirror. “And I like spanking the girl who swatted him on the ass.” Her cheeks turned a bright red. “That’s not fair. We have to go to work.” He smiled again. “We need to shower, too.” “I like the way you think.” She turned away, throwing a little extra into her walk. “Care to scrub my back, Teddy?” They rolled in about the same time Stan and Gina pulled up in the Roach Coach, the van the marshal’s service had turned into a mobile surveillance lab and command post. Gina hopped out, a smile lighting her face. “Ready to go to work, boys and girls?” “Jo got it, meng.” Rico did his best Izzy impersonation, and grinned when Stan winced. “Can we not bring up that grease trap Moreno, please? At least not before noon.” “Relax, Stan. We ain’t needed his services for over a month now. He’s likely been deported back to Mars or wherever he dropped in from.” “Don’t be too sure. He’s like a rash…always popping up when you least expect it and always uncomfortable and embarrassing.” “You know, I have yet to meet this guy.” “Consider yourself blessed.” Gina smiled at Mindy. “Stan’s underestimating his charm if anything.” “Yeah, but he gets good information sometimes.” Rico shook his head. “And I cannot believe I’m defending the little sleezeball.” Rico had already settled into the office he normally shared with Sonny, coffee in hand, when his fellow lieutenant came in. “Gina and Mindy are almost ready,” he said, anticipating the question. “And Stan and Lester are hard at work on something or another. Dave and Randy should be here in ten or fifteen minutes. Something about a wreck on the turnpike but I think Randy has to pick up Dave from Debbie’s place. Randy had that damned smirk in his voice when he called.” “Sounds about right. We’ll wait until they’re here and go through it.” Sonny shifted and winced. “Cat got claws?” “Something like that, but in a good way.” “Ain’t no other, partner. I’ll let you know when the boys get here.” Rico smiled. At least this time Sonny wouldn’t see Mindy’s hickies…. Dave looked a bit washed out, but he and Randy were sitting at their usual spots around the conference table. Rico winked at him, chuckling when the sniper winced and shot him a quick middle finger, and stuck his head in Castillo’s office. “We’re ready, Sonny.” Rico noticed Sonny was careful to keep his back away from the chair as he sat down. “What do we have?” Mindy looked at Gina, who nodded. “It looks good, boss. Your hunch seems to be right. Lab results indicate the coke all came from more or less the same region in Bolivia and maybe even the same lab. In each case the tip-off was the same. A call from a pay phone somewhere in Miami about an hour after the drop went down. Never the same phone, and never the same part of town.” Gina took up the tale. “It was all really consistent in interrogation. Each group said they didn’t know the seller, and that whoever moved the dope wasn’t the same person they did the deal with. The bad thing is none of these guys know boats. One said it was a sailboat, another claimed it was the Minnow from ‘Gilligan’s Island,’ and a third thought it was Blackbeard’s pirate ship. What they all agreed on was someone came out from the boat in an inflatable raft and dropped off the goods.” Rico whistled. “Someone’s being damned careful.” Sonny nodded. “I’ll let Pete know what we’ve got and that we’re taking it as a case. Did those interrogation reports say anything about the supplier?” “No. It was mostly middle men who got picked up. Guys hired by a guy to pick something up for another guy.” Gina shrugged. “We’ll dig deeper on that side and see if anything turns up.” Rico nodded. “You think we can get to whoever’s doing this by going after their man on the street?” “More or less, partner. More or less. Someone’s setting these deals up, and the sooner we know the sooner we can try to slip Cooper or Teddy Prentiss in front of them.” He grinned. “Burnett’s in the same business they are. I don’t think he’ll work this time.” Rico turned the problem over in his head. He’d been hitting Cooper too hard lately, but Prentiss was strictly a weed man with the occasional smack deal thrown in. Coke wasn’t his style. “We might have to wheel something else out, Sonny. Cooper’s getting too crispy. That and after the action we’ve been having him after I can’t see him stepping down to any deal under a hundred keys. It would stick out.” “Yeah, and blow ain’t Prenstiss’ game.” Sonny looked across the table. “You fancy some undercover work, Stan?” “Me? It’s been a while.” Rico nodded. “Why not? Bikers like blow. What was that cover you used a few years back?” “Biggs. Yeah, I could dust him off.” “What am I, chopped liver?” Gina raised her hands. “I can do UC, too.” Rico nodded. “We know, Gina. But we gotta see the profile of the seller first and who he’s usually dealing to. Aren’t that many women in the coke trade in Miami, at least not in bulk.” Sonny raised his hand. “I’m making no decisions until I have a better idea of what we’re up against. Meanwhile, hit your informants. See if there’s any word about someone new moving Bolivian marching dust of high purity and lots under sixty keys. Stan, check the wires, too. We’ve still got a few active taps from the Delgado case. See if there’s anything there.” Rico waited until the table cleared. “How’s Jenny? I could see it in your eyes, partner.” “Something’s bugging her, Rico. She won’t tell me what yet, and I ain’t gonna push. You just can’t push that girl.” He sighed. “But it’s a worry that won’t go away.” “I hear you. At least she’s got Trudy’s present and we know she knows how to use it.” “Yeah. I am afraid it’s something from her past. She may have left that life, but it doesn’t aways leave you without a fight.” “Her old boyfriend’s still in custody, right?” “Yeah. And doing serious Federal time. No, it ain’t him. I already checked.” Rich reached out and gripped Sonny’s forearm. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, partner.” “You got it.” Sonny smiled. “Now I gotta go call Pete. Reach out to any sources you got and see what shakes loose.” Back in the office, Rico leaned back in his chair, letting his mind work. If they had to send Stan under, who’d go with him? He remembered Randy saying something about doing some UC work and grinned. Those two would make outstanding bikers. Lester was capable enough, and Rico vaguely remembered Stan saying something about him having done it before, but he couldn’t see him as a biker. Put Gina in a leather skirt and she could sell biker babe no sweat. But would a biker bring his old lady to deal? That was a Stan question, and he filed it away just in case. Reaching into his desk drawer, he pulled out a battered notebook and flipped through the pages. It was a list of every informant he’d ever had, going all the way back to the Bronx and his Armed Robbery days. Lines drawn through names indicated the source was either compromised, in jail, or dead. The first ten pages were thick with lines, and he’d added more since they’d come back to the force. What bothered Rico more was the lack of additions to the notebook. He’d lost so much ground being away for over a year, but he couldn’t deny the time had done both him and especially Sonny a world of good. He’d cultivated a handful of informants since coming back, but most of them were tied somehow to Cooper. Not the kind of people who’d be dealing with small buys. And the ones he’d picked up for Teddy were even less help. He snapped the book shut with a snort. It was back to ground zero from the looks of things. Maybe Stan had someone stashed away who’d be of help, or they might have to reach out to Izzy again. Rico didn’t like working with Havana’s gift to Miami, but if it was the only source they had it was what he’d have to do. He found Stan in the the office he shared with Lester. They’d christened the place the Tech Room, and the name fit perfectly. Crammed full of radio repeaters and work areas for custom jobs on taps and bugs, the place almost hummed with electricity. It was also hotter than the rest of the office, and most days Stan kept a fan running to cool the operation. He looked up and grinned when Rico came in. “Need a new camera for the bedroom, Rico?” “Naw. I don’t wanna take yours.” “How’d you know she wanted one?” Stan turned a light shade of pink and then laughed. “Very funny, Tubbs. Seriously, what can I do you for?” “If this thing goes the way I’m thinking it might, you’ll be going undercover. I just went though my informants and came up empty. You got anything left from that Biggs cover?” Stan scratched his chin though his beard. “Yeah, I suppose I do. I keep ol’ Biggs kinda lukewarm if you know what I mean. Roll by his places now and then to keep the oar in.” Rico nodded. He’s done the same with Teddy Prentiss, and considering how useful the fake Jamaican had been in their hunt for Carlos Delgado he planned on doing it more often now. “Is that a yes?” “Yeah, smart ass. It is. I’ve actually got three sources tied to Biggs.” “You’d better dust ‘em off, big guy. I think you’re gonna be it this time around.” Rico found Sonny flipping through the report Gina and Mindy had typed up. “Pete’s on board,” he said as Rico came into the office. “You checked your sources?” “Yeah.” Rico settled into one of the chairs on the other side of Castillo’s desk, noticing again how uncomfortable Sonny looked in the man’s chair. “I came up empty. But Stan says he’s got three still tied to that Biggs cover, and that he’s been keeping it warm.” “Good. He’s our guy, then. Have him work up a plan and bring it in.” Sonny looked up. “I’m not looking over his shoulder. Just want to make sure everything’s solid. It’s been a couple of years since he did undercover work.” “I’ll pass the word.” “Thanks. And let him know he can draw on whatever he needs. That includes Gina. We might only get one shot at this so it has to be good.”