The More Things Change...(Part VI)

[Robbie C.]

Even with the air conditioner on full it was hot in the Tech Room. That was the name Stan had given the office in the Task Force suite he'd taken over and turned into his workshop and, if he was honest, playground. He'd wanted to call it the Bat Cave, but Gina had talked him out of that one, using her soft brown eyes to full effect.

Lester looked up from the flickering CRT screen, his eyes bright. “I can't believe all the stuff you have here, Stan! It makes OCB look like the freakin' Stone Age.”

“Yeah, we do things right with your tax dollars.” Stan chuckled, setting down the tape he'd been splicing together to take out blank spots in the recording. “Those Feds have things I don't even think old Steve Duddy could have dreamed of. You can damned near hear a fly fart at three hundred yards with some of these mics. And don't get me started on the cameras.”

“It's a shame...” Lester's voice trailed off. “I'm sorry, Stan. I shouldn't...”

“It's ok, man. You're doing fine. You'd make Larry proud the way you're taking the background noise out of that tape.” Stan wasn't kidding. That wouldhave made Zito proud, and he had to admit it felt good working with a tech partner again. Trudy was smart as hell, but she wasn't into the tech like Larry had been. Or Lester was. “You're picking it up fast, and that's good. You having any luck with that one tape?”

“Some. I've scrubbed it five times now. There's still hiss, but I think I got most of it out. It's a damned bad connection. Like two guys using cans and string.”

“Third world phones. What can you do?”

“The funny thing is...that's not the only call there. I think we got one of those conference calls.”

“What do you mean?” Stan wheeled his chair over to look at the screen.

Lester rolled the tape. “See?” He pointed to the wave signatures. “We got one voice there, the second, and a third.”

“Damn! How'd I miss that?”

“The third one didn't come out until I ran it through the fifth time. You've got Pedrosa, he's the first wave. That Moncado guy is the second. And the third is an unidentified Gringo.”

“How do you know?”

“Before he gets on the line they jump back and forth between Spanish and English. Once he's in, it's all English.”

“Can you transcribe it?”

“I can try.”

“Great! I'll let the lieutenant know we hit paydirt.” Stan slapped his new partner on the shoulder. “Great work, Lester. You made Larry damned proud today. I know it.”

 

“You're sure?” Castillo didn't look up.

“We're sure, lieutenant.” Stan Switek stood in front of Castillo's plain desk. He'd just explained what Lester found and showed him the rough typed transcript. “Trudy hasn't reviewed it yet, so we might be off a bit in the Spanish parts. But there are three people on that tape, and one of them is Maynard.”

So they were right. Long ago Castillo learned not to trust everything he heard from the CIA, but this time they'd been straight with him. The bigger question is why? Who did Maynard anger enough to throw him to the wolves? Any time the Company got involved things got complicated. And confused. Today's enemies were tomorrow's friends, and yesterday's allies were shot and left in a ditch. But now they had Maynard on tape. Talking with two drug smugglers. “I want you to have Lester focus on Moncado as much as he can. We need more intelligence on him. I want to verify for ourselves what we've gotten from other agencies.”

“You got it, lieutenant. Lester's really learning fast.”

“I know. You both are doing a great job. Let him know I appreciate what he's doing.” Castillo paused for a moment. “And I appreciate what you're doing.”

Stan's jaw hung slack for an instant. “Thank...thank you, lieutenant. We'll get right on it.”

Once Switek left, Castillo started flipping through the typescript pages. Looking to see if there was any hint of Maynard coming into the United States or wanting to deal directly with buyers of his drugs. Risk was part of the business, but he wasn't about to foolishly risk his two best detectives. Maynard knew both Crockett and Tubbs as cops, and if he saw them the operation was compromised.

A second read-through convinced him Maynard was just checking up on things. Trying to find out why the flow of money had slowed down and why his main receiver in Florida was letting the pipeline back up. He'd need to listen to the tape to pick up on the nuances of voice and tone, to figure out the relationship between the men. Printed words made it seem like Moncado and Maynard were almost equals, but the voices would reveal the truth.

He was about to go check with Switek when Trudy let herself into the office. She smiled, her eyes sparkling, and he felt himself smiling back. It felt good. “How did last night's meeting go?”

“Good. Sonny and Rico had that Pedrosa dancing. Especially Rico. They cut us loose right after he left, just in case Pedrosa had men still in the club.”

“Good.” Castillo felt a tightness in his chest and had to fight the urge to walk around the desk and kiss her. There will be time for that later.“Have you heard from Crockett and Tubbs today?”

“I know they had a meeting this afternoon, but that's all.” She smiled again. “I'm sure they'll check in, lieutenant. You know those two.”

 

The Gator Bar was one of those places that had seen its best days at least a decade gone now. The neon gator sign was missing tubes, making the gator look more like a constipated snake when it flickered on and off, and the building was in need of at least four fresh coats of paint and a full disinfecting. Sonny grinned as they left the car and walked across the street, feeling the heat through the soles of their shoes. He'd been in many bars like this growing up and during his time at the University of Florida. They were great places to drink and not be seen.

At least it was cool inside, and the place didn't smell too strongly of stale Budweiser and piss. A knot of men in faded jeans and tattered t-shirts drank at the bar, looking up for a moment and turning back to their beers when they saw the newcomers weren't cops or some woman's enraged boyfriend. Tubbs wrinkled his nose and looked around. “Damn. They ever air this place out?”

“Naw. Cuts down on the appeal.” Sonny motioned with his hand. “I think our two friends are in the back there. They've been watching us since we came in.”

Ignoring the slack-jawed bartender swiping at the chipped bar with a rag last used to clean a dipstick, Crockett and Tubbs cut past a coin-operated pool table to a small table in the back by the bathrooms. Two men sat with a pitcher of beer between them. They looked to be of average height, and with their jeans and olive drab t-shirts they blended into the background of the Gator Bar. Sonny noticed they were positioned so neither had his back to the door. The one with dark hair looked up and nodded. “Dave and I understand you were in the Corps.”

“Yeah. Paris Island and then 'Nam. '69 and '71. First Marine Division the first time around.” Sonny hooked a chair and sat down. “MP company, though.” He looked from one man to the other. “I hear you two cut your teeth in the Corps, too.”

“We were both Hollywood Marines.” Dave smiled, showing even teeth and eyes that held yours until you had to look away. “MCRD San Diego. Hit 'Nam just after Tet '68 and were there through most of '69. Sniper platoon, Ninth Marines, Third Marine Division.”

Crockett nodded. “So up north from me?”

“Yeah. Near the DMZ. Arizona Territory. NVA mostly.”

“Lots of VC down along the coast, but we got NVA from time to time.” Crockett closed his eyes, remembering the fights. “They used us as a security force quite a bit. We'd get hit on the roads, near villes. Even augmented line companies now and again.”

The lighter-haired man waved for Tubbs to pull up a chair. “Take a load off, son. I'm Randy, by the by.” He looked back to Sonny. “You said you did two tours...”

“Yeah. Second one was security detail. Mostly Da Nang, but I did get up around Pleiku and some other vacation spots in II Corps. My last show was the Embassy evacuation.”

“You were there for that shit show?” Randy shook his head. “Hell of a way to cut and run, you ask me. Dave and I were out by then. The Corps in peacetime is for lifers and pogues who can't find their balls without a map, two mirrors, and someone to help them look. Did a stint with a police force out west and then the Marshal's Service recruited us. Ain't looked back since.”

Tubbs nodded. “So you were cops.”

“Yeah.” Dave spoke again, his voice lower than Randy's. “Seemed like the thing to do once we got home. We both got out in '74 and headed back to Butte. My brother was FBI an' he wanted to get us in with the Feebs. But I look like a monkey in a suit. So we went PD instead.”

“Butte?”

Dave laughed, a genuine sound that didn't travel far. “Montana. We're both Montana boys. Hunted since we could walk, so the Corps gave us rifles an' let us keep hunting.”

Sonny nodded. “Sometimes they got it right.” He leaned in, looking at both men. “Tubbs here used to be NYPD, and I've been Metro-Dade since I got out of the Corps. Our lieutenant recruited us for this Task Force, but I'm not too clear on what backup we have aside from the two of you.” He raised his hand. “And I'm not complaining a bit. You two can handle yourselves and then some.”

Randy seemed to be the deep thinker of the two, and he spoke again. “Always good to have a face and a name when you're going into spots you might not get out of. Truth be told we wanted to get a sense of you two as well. Watched you work that Reno asshole. Impressive.”

“Thanks. And I can tell you I felt a damned sight better knowing we had two scout-snipers watching our backs. My company worked with teams from First Marine Division's snipers, and they were some solid, scary dudes.” Sonny looked over at Tubbs. “When you're working undercover you're usually on your own. It's good to know we've got someone with long reach watching.”

Tubbs nodded. “What did your bosses tell you about this Task Force?”

Randy snorted, pouring more beer for the men at the table. “Not much. Just to report to an office in Miami and talk to that spooky boss of yours.”

Tubbs laughed. “Charles Bronson by way of Havana. Lieutenant Castillo's a good man. One of the best. But he is an intense cat.”

“No shit.I don't think he moved the entire time we were in there. But he gave us a damned solid briefing.” Randy shook his head. “There was something about him, though...something familiar.”

Dave took up the tale. “We got loaned out from time to time to...” He paused, his forehead furrowing in thought. “Other agencies they called them. I'd swear he briefed us once or twice.”

“He could have.” Sonny nodded. “Castillo was a spook in 'Nam. I know he worked in Saigon and over in Thailand and Laos.”

“It had to have been him, then. That op took us into Laos.” Dave looked at Sonny. “You think he remembered us?”

“I'm sure he did. That man's mind is like ten computers tied together. And if he remembered you, he asked for you.” Sonny took a sip of beer to mask the feelings running through his heart. “It's the highest compliment I can think of. And if he asked for you, he's got your back. Period.”

They talked through three more pitchers, telling tales of firefights in Vietnam and fistfights with drunks in cities large and small. Sonny had been worried about how the men would react to Tubbs, but as always Rico turned on the charm and soon had them laughing as he talked about chasing a thief carrying a TV set through the narrow, slick alleys of the Bronx. “I almost had the little chump,” he said, waving his hands to show how close he was after avoiding two winos, “when the sucker turns and throws the TV right at me! Hit me square in the chest, and this is one of those big, color TVs. Dropped me like I'd been hit by a brick. My partner jumps over me and manages to crack the skell a good one with his nightstick. Cat had been too busy laughing at my sorry ass to keep running.”

“Gotta love the dumb ones.”

“Yeah.” Sonny felt mellow from the beer. It had been some time since he'd sat and talked with other vets, and he had to admit it felt good. They could shift from cop stories to war stories without missing a beat, and he felt himself acknowledging memories and feelings he'd buried the second he'd taken off the uniform. How the hell could I have been so selfish and blown Robbie off?But there was still business. “I gotta ask. Can you guys work in close if you need to?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Dave chuckled. “We sure as hell can.”

“Good. We're gonna have some meets with these guys where it would look funny if just Tubbs and I showed up for the dance. We could pull some detectives from Metro-Dade, but...”

“You'd rather have guys you trust at your backs.” Randy nodded. “You can count on us, Sonny. You, too, Rico.” He turned to Dave. “We'd best get back. Got a report to write up. They've got us working some secondary stuff while we're here. We can drop it any time you guys need us, but you know government...”

“They love their paper.” Sonny shook hands with the two men. “It was good meeting you two. You've got my number, and I'll get yours from Trudy. Let me know if there's anything we can do to help you guys, and I'll coordinate with you as soon as we know what's up with the target.”

Back on the street the heat hit them like a wet brick heated in an oven. Tubbs winced and slipped on his sunglasses. “Those were two solid cats, Sonny.”

“Yeah.” Crockett adjusted his own Ray Bans and headed for the car. “I figured they would be, but I feel a damned sight better having faces and names to go with them.”

“And if we have to bring them as muscle I figure they'll give Pedrosa's boys nightmares.” Getting in the Ferrari, he grinned as the engine roared to life. “Now we'd better go swing by the office and see if the lieutenant has anything new for us.”

“And I'll put the squeeze on Pedrosa. I'm surprised the little chump hasn't paged yet, even though I told him I'd call him.”

 

“Where do you want to call from this time?” Lester sat in front of the phone board, a look of intense concentration on his face. “I want to make sure the background noise is right.”

“We'll use the Rumour phone again.” Tubbs smiled. “Got an image to maintain, you know.”

Stan came out of Castillo's office, his face unreadable. “As soon as you've hooked Pedrosa the lieutenant wants a word.” He turned to Sonny. “And I've got that info for you, Sonny.”

“Thanks, Stan. We'll talk as soon as we're done with the lieutenant.”

Lester spoke up. “It's ready, Rico. Go ahead.”

Nodding, Tubbs selected the line and punched in numbers. “Carlos? Yeah, it's Cooper. I talked to my people and they're ok provided the product checks out. The sample we discussed is fine, and they're willing to front thirty for the sample. If it tests good, we can talk about prices for the rest.” Tubbs listened for a few seconds and then his face changed. “No, you look, chump! It is how it is. Be glad my people are coming back after that first shipment and mess Reno made of the second! They want quality checks, and I'm not sticking my neck out for you. Not until I know we can do business.” He listened again, winking and Sonny and Lester. “No, the club's a bit too loud for real business. We'll do the test down at the boat yard. Ten tonight. Look for slip 27. I'll be there with Burnett and one or two of his boys. Can't be too careful these days. You bring the product and I'll bring the fee. Don't cross me, chump. You don't want all of New York landing on your neck.” Sonny could still hear Pedrosa's whining voice as Tubbs slammed down the phone.

“You think he'll show?”

“I'm sure of it, Sonny. He sounds even more desperate now.”

“And we know why.” Castillo came out of his office with two file folders. “I'll arrange for your back-up to meet you here before the meeting with Pedrosa. About 2000 so you can go over details beforehand. But you need to read this transcript first. Things are moving faster than we anticipated.” He slid a folder to Crockett and another to Tubbs.

Sonny felt the manila under his fingertips as he reached out and took the folder. Old memories traced patterns through his brain and down to his heart as he opened it and read. “Maynard.” The name came out almost as a hiss.

“We have him on tape. We don't know where he is, but judging from the quality he's overseas somewhere.” Castillo nodded to Lester. “It was all Lester could do to bring him out of the static.”

“Meaning the call was patched through Mondaco's line.” Lester's voice had a new confidence, and Sonny grinned. Stan's rubbing off on him.“If it came through Pedrosa's it would have been clearer. I think Moncado patched Maynard in partway through the call.”

Stan nodded, backing up his new partner. “It tracks, lieutenant.”

Sonny was about to ask how Maynard sounded when one of the side office doors opened and Trudy came out of her office. She had her own little intelligence operation, complete with files from an alphabet soup of agencies domestic and foreign. Her eyes were bright. “Sorry for the interruption, but I've got more background on this Moncado. He's a nasty piece of work.”

Sonny chuckled. “We've seen those before, darlin'.”

“Not like him. He's worse than the Revilla brothers.” She shuddered, handing each detective two sheets stapled together. “That's just a summary. I should have a full profile done by tomorrow. Still waiting on a couple of files and trying to connect some dots.”

“Thanks.” Crockett skimmed the first page and flipped to the second. “So he cut his teeth in the Columbian death squads? That could be where he met Maynard. I don't think there's a right-wing death squad he doesn't like.”

“That's one of the dots I'm still trying to connect.” Trudy sat down, her habitual dark dress pulling tight. “But he had a record for torture, summary executions. You name it, he either did it or ordered it. He was bad enough the Columbian military was starting its own investigation when someone tipped him off and he disappeared.”

“I wonder what little bird whispered in his ear?” Tubbs flipped through the pages. “This is one sick cat if half of it's true.”

Trudy nodded. “It's mostly verified. After he skipped Columbia he turned up in Peru doing some kind of contract work. Supposedly he was working with the national police, but sightings have him all over the place. I think this is where he made his serious cocaine connections. He's still got ties in Columbia, so he can move his product through there without any serious problems. So long as he's not cutting up peasants where cameras can see him the Columbian government seems happy enough to ignore what he's doing.”

“He knows where bodies are buried.” Castillo's voice barely rose above the hum of the ventilation system. “He can use that to keep their government off his back. And since he's in Maynard's pocket that buys him more room to maneuver. Both Columbia and Peru are fighting communist insurgencies, so the Company will be supporting them. That gives Maynard enough pull to keep them quiet.”

“You can bet they're not going to risk losing all that aid money.” Sonny snorted and closed his folder. “Same old sorry song. Costa Morada all over again.”

“Or that case that got old Ira Stone killed. Any time Maynard sticks his head up the bodies start piling up.” Tubbs shook his head. “But I gotta worry about tonight first. Can we get thirty gs for buy money, lieutenant?”

“You'll have it inside the hour. Your backup will bring it.” Castillo favored them with one of his thin smiles. “Did you have a good talk with them?”

I should have known he'd know.Sonny nodded. “Yeah, we did. They're good guys. Good Marines. It...” He paused, not quite sure of his words. “It felt good to talk about Nam.”

“Common ground makes for better working relationships. I hope you meet with them again.” Castillo turned. “I'll arrange the money. Keep up the good work, everyone.”

Sonny gathered up the papers. “I'd better go over this stuff again to make sure it's all straight in my head. Lots of players this time out, girls. The score card needs to be perfect.”

Stan spoke up. “Hey, Sonny. I ran that name for you. Robbie's still got his club. What is it, The Sanctuary? Anyhow, the DA cut him some slack because of how that whole thing went down. No time and no real record. Just some community service. Looks like he's been doing good, though. Still married and his kid's about ready to start school.”

Damn! It's been that long? I can still see the christening like it was yesterday.But the thought made him think on Will and what might have been, so Sonny tried to bury it for another time. “Thanks, Stan. I owe you one. I'll have to swing by there in the next couple of days and see how he's doing.” He sighed. “It's been too damned long.”

Tubbs slapped him on the shoulder. “We've got a couple of hours before we need to meet our two shooters. You want to swing by now?”

“Naw. It might take more than a couple of hours. And we need to have our heads in the game. If Pedrosa's getting scared he's going to be more dangerous than he was before.” Sonny looked at the phone transcript and shook his head. “Nothing worse than a cornered coward in cases like this.”

Trudy nodded, surprising Sonny. “He's been calling all his boys today, too. Stan showed me the logs. I'd say he's checking his stash locations and trying to find out how many guns he can spare. He's worried about someone trying to hit his locations, but we don't have any chatter indicating who.”

“Just what we need. A paranoid coward.” Sonny looked across the table at Trudy. “You've been studying this guy. Trudy. You think he'll try anything tonight?”

“Right now? No. He likes having lots of guns on hand, and he just doesn't have that yet.” She looked at her notes. “But if he can shake more men loose that could change. I'll let you know if anything changes. Stan's still tracking his communications locally. Lester's watching the longer-range chatter.”

“Solid.” Tubbs flashed one of his characteristic smiles. “You've got this thing nailed, Trudy.”

She smiled back, and Sonny thought he could detect a hint of blush through her makeup. “Thanks, Rico. It's not as exciting as the streets, but it's also fun. It's nice to actually see the puzzle coming together instead of digging pieces out of the gutter.”

Sonny stood up. “I don't know about the rest of you, but I could use some food before tonight's festivities. We'll meet back at seven-thirty or so. Get things in order before our guests show at eight.”

Edited June 19, 2019 by Robbie C.

[vicegirl85]

Barely skimmed tonight but will have more time later in the week to really savor this chapter!  Love seeing Sonny connect back to his past life, and Stan becoming a kind of mentor to Lester.