With Friends Like These....Part VII

[Robbie C.]

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.”

[vicegirl85]

25 minutes ago, Robbie C. said:

And Sonny? He’s a swamp redneck out of water most days.

LOL, that's what I always thought.

You're killing me with the suspense!!!  But in a good way.

[mjcmmv]

Loving how this moves along. And looking forward to see where it's headed. The relationship between the men of Miami VIce has always been strong. Great to see that camaraderie again!