Breaking Point Part VII

[Robbie C.]

Rico looked Sonny in the dim Roach Coach and shrugged. “Better them than us, partner.”

Sonny nodded, his face a greenish-yellow from light off the recorders and other instruments lining the work are of the Roach Coach. “Yeah. Hell, Rico, you wouldn’t even get the time of day from that crew.” He shook his head. “Stan did a good job nailing that one down.”

Rico nodded, listening through one earphone to the chatter coming from Bomber’s almost half a mile away. They were parked on a side street where business gave way to cheap residential and an exterminator’s vehicle wouldn’t draw a second glance. It also the kind of street that didn’t draw many police patrols, so they had to keep a weather eye out for anyone trying to steam the hubcaps or maybe the wheels.

Lester had pointed to the shotgun clipped by the back doors when he told them that. “Yeah, we had one dude all set to start jacking up the old Coach until Dave opened the back door, racked the shotgun, and said ‘help you’ in that voice of his. I’ll bet the kid broke at least three land speed records getting away. Even forgot his jack.”

It was a funny story, but Rico had seen that kind of desperation more than he liked up close and personal back in New York. Working Armed Robbery that was almost all they did; sweep up after one pathetic act after another. In some ways it was worse than Homicide. At least there you’d get a push to close the case. Armed Robbery if nothing turned up right away, the bosses wanted you to close the file and more on. No matter if some family’s business was ended. He’d been glad to get away, but somehow the Job always led you back to that kind of hopelessness.

“You ok, partner?”

“Yeah. Just waiting for them to quit holding that moron’s hand and get on out of there.” He smiled. “Mindy was talking about going to Downbeat if I got home in time.”

“Lucky you. Jenny will just want to go over business. She’s really into this whole Caitlin’s House thing.”

Lester gave a theatrical sigh. “Be glad you got someone to go home to.”

Rico chuckled. “Yeah, sorry Lester. I been in your shoes too damned many times over the years. This all getting taped ok?”

“Yeah. The new mics are really solid. You can damned near hear a fly fart at twenty feet with them. And it sounds like they’re wrapping up now.”

Rico nodded. “Yeah. We’ll hold position until Dave is clear and then call it a night.”

He could hear the melodic notes of Charlie Parker blowing ‘April in Paris’ as soon as he got off the elevator, and smiled. That meant Mindy had changed her mind about going out. And that was the other great thing about having the penthouse…no one complained about the noise.

She was waiting in the living room, sitting on the big couch looking out at the sliver of moon peeking around clouds sliding slowly through the night sky. “I change my mind,” she said, watching as he hung up his suit coat and took off his dark tie.

“Figured that from the music. What’s up, lady?”

“Nothing. I just got to watching the moon and decided I didn’t want to be around people.”

“Yeah, I hear you. It’s nice and quiet up here. Easy to pretend you’re somewhere else.”

“What did you say once? If you close your eyes you can almost pretend you’re in New York?”

“Or Boston,” he said, sitting down beside her. “I remember that night, too, you know.”

“How did it go?”

“Good. Stan and Randy have them set up for a deal, and we’ll see what happens from there. Business as usual.” Rico ran his fingers through her thick, long red hair. “Two nights from now.”

“Mmm.” She rubbed her head against his fingers. “You ever wish you could just crawl into a Bird song and never come out?”

“Yeah. All the time. All the time.” He kissed her hair, smelling the fading breath of her perfume. “What’s wrong, lady?”

“I don’t know. Not really.” She leaned in his side. “I’m just…”

“Tired. Yeah. So am I. We been hittin’ it hard the last few months. No question. Lots of change. People getting hurt. Hell, it takes a toll.”

“It does.” She looked up at him, her blue eyes bright. “And it’s all changing so fast.”

“Yeah. Like us. Ask me back when this started if I thought I’d be with anything but the Job I would have laughed at you. But now…”

“Now I wonder how long it will last.”

“As long as we want it to, pretty lady. As long as we want it to. I’m just glad you’re moved in now. The place feels so much better. More like a home instead of some set for a play.”

She giggled. “Except for the ones we put on.”

“You got it.” He reached down and ran his fingers along her fine cheekbones, ending under her chin so he could tilt her mouth up and kiss her. “And I don’t want it to end.”

 

“So I figure we’ll play it like we did last night.” Stan looked around the room, taking a sip of coffee to both wet his whistle and create space to collect his thoughts. Briefing still didn’t come easy for him. No matter how much he made them laugh. “Randy and I will ride in looking like bad extras in some kind of gay porno while the rest of you hide out in the Roach Coach and snicker.”

“So long as I don’t gotta wear that damend wig again I’ll be happy if I’m sittin’ in the mud fightin’ off gators.”

“Thanks for the offer, Dave, but it’s roaches you gotta worry about in that warehouse. Lots of big roaches, and maybe a rat or ten. Depending on the tide and phase of the moon.”

“You think they’ll bring the guns?”

Leave it to Sonny. “They might. I’d be surprised if they didn’t, or at least had them close by. But I got that covered. Remember that L’il Abner rig you drove after the Daytona got blown up? I found it still down in the impound lot. Randy and I will be rollin’ in true redneck style.”

“Good thinking, Stan.” Sonny grinned.

“It also gives us a good place to stash the buy money. I’ve got the request filled out, captain. Just needs your signature and we’ll be ready to go.”

Castillo nodded. “Good. You’ve used this spot before?”

“Once or twice, but mostly for simple meets and stuff like that. Back when I first rolled out Biggs and was sniffing around for that speed cooker back in ’90.”

Lester nodded. “Yeah. I remember him. The old trucker speed guy. Blew himself up with a batch, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. He was going for something extra-special and forgot to shut off the propane feed to the grill he was using. At least that’s what the bomb squad figured. They were picking bits of him out of the trees for days after that thing went up.”

“Good.” Castillo turned. “Crockett and Tubbs?”

Stan sat down with a grin as Sonny and Rico started running down what they were planning for the next few days. It felt good, both to be done talking and to actually have a working case. Sonny and Rico were just fishing, and it showed. From what he could tell Garcia might have promise, but the other two were padding. Especially Pancho. Any Mendoza who had his shit together was dead or in prison. What was left were the dregs from the gene pool.

He tuned back in when Castillo started talking. “Stay on Carrera. I want to know what he’s up to and what he knows about this trouble down south. And you say Pancho’s back in town?”

“According to the info Trudy got, yes. He flew back in yesterday.”

“Stay on him, too. I want to know what he was doing in Columbia and where else he went. If he bought local tickets they wouldn’t track here.”

Stan decided to be a team player. Hell, he actually enjoyed it now that they were a real team and not just the Sonny and Rico show. “If you guys want Randy and I can drop by Topper and see if he’s around. I know one of the bouncers there and two of the bartenders. Wanna-be Angels every one. They think Biggs is the shit.”

“Thanks.” Sonny smiled. “I’d appreciate it. That place gives me a rash.” He held up his hand. “But more to the point it’s not someplace Burnett ever frequented. The Overton? Sure. Even Rizzo’s and Bomber’s or a higher-end place like Rumours. It’d be better if you slid in and did some recon. You ever worked with Pancho?”

“No, but those morons don’t know that. And more to the point they ain’t gonna say anything. The biker brotherhood and all that.” Stan chuckled. “All I gotta do is say we might be looking for a couple of new recruits and they’d sell him and his mother down the river without a second thought.”

Randy cleared his throat. “We’ll hit that this afternoon if you think one of your boys might be there.”

Stan thought for a moment, scratching his chin through his beard. “Yeah. At least one of ‘em should be. Provided they all still work there. It’s been a couple of months since I was by.”

Back in the Tech Room, Stan turned to Lester and grinned. “How did all the junk work last night?”

“Good. Dave had solid comms all the way through, and I don’t think anyone ever picked up he was wearing the earpiece. The new mics are almost too good, though. Lots of background noise.”

“Yeah.” Stan flipped through the notebook listing all their taps, active and shut down. “You know, we should scrub this thing one of these days. I think we still have taps running from the Moncado case.”

“It’s on the list, boss. Just haven’t gotten to it yet.” Lester waved in the general direction of a cork board on the back wall. “But I did pull the last of the Moncado taps last week. Still have some from Doc, though.”

“If the warrants are still good we might want to keep those live. Who knows when the Dominicans will decide to get back in the game. But I’ll run the paperwork by the AUSA just make sure. Don’t want anything tossed on a technicality.”

“You want me to move it up a bit?”

“Yeah, and I’ll give you a hand. Keep me busy until it’s time to roll out.”

Stan surprised himself and managed to work fifteen wires before Randy stuck his head in. “We’d best get in costume, sarge. It’s almost 1500 and I’d rather hit that dump before the after-work crowd.”

“You got a point. I’ll grab my colors an’ we’ll roll.” Stan chuckled. “That beard’s startin' to grow in nice.”

Randy rubbed his chin. “My old company gunny would kick my ass so hard an’ so far for this. But it does kinda suit Patch, don’t it?”

They hit Topper just after three, and Stan grinned when he saw one of his old contacts behind the bar. “Gus! How’s it hangin’, bro?”

Gus was a big guy with a shaved head and drooping dark handlebar mustache. “Biggs! Man, I ain’t seen you in ages. Thought you’d been busted.”

“Ain’t a cop been born who can bring me in. Had business up in the Panhandle.” Stan slapped Randy on the shoulder. “This is my bro, Patch. Patch, this is the guy I was tellin’ you about.”

Randy pretended to look the man up and down. “He could do. He’s big enough. But we got other business first, brother.”

Gus looked from one man to the other. “Do for what?”

“W might be lookin’ for recruits soon, Gus. Me an’ Patch are checkin’ out prospects. Don’t worry, bro. You’re on the list. But I got a favor to ask first.”

“Name it, bro. I got your back, Biggs. You know that.”

“We’re lookin’ for a punk who calls himself Pancho. Likes to prance around in cowboy boots or some shit now, I hear.” Stan leaned over the bar. “We need to have a word. I keep hearin’ he likes it here.”

“He’s in regular most weeks. I ain’t seen him for a few days now, though.” Gus looked around. “His buddies were in lookin’ for him night before last, though. Didn’t seem too happy when they didn’t find him here. But they was jabberin’ that Mexican talk so I don’t know what they was sayin’.”

“They come in much?”

“Naw. Only with him. They weren’t here last night, though.”

Stan slapped the bar with his big palm. “Thanks for the info, Gus. Look, we got some things to check on. We’ll be back to talk, though. See about gettin’ you some colors.”

Out on the street, Randy looked around and took a deep breath. “Is that guy as dumb as he looks?”

“Dumber, if you can believe it. But he sees just about everything that happens in there when he’s working. We can wait and try the bouncer, but I think Gus was pay dirt for us.”

“You think Pancho’s ducking his buddies?”

“Could be. I don’t know either way.” Stan swung his leg over the Harley and settled into the seat. “Let’s get back and let the captain know.”

 

Castillo waited until Stan was done talking. “What does your gut tell you?”

“That Pancho’s buddies were looking for him and were either pissed or worried that they couldn’t find him. The guy sounds like a man of fixed habits, and hitting Topper with his crew was one of them. Gus says they never come in without him.”

“And Customs says he came back in the country?”

“Yeah. At least someone using his ticket and a passport in his name did. He wasn’t on any watch list so they didn’t take pictures. We can ask for video, but it’ll take them weeks to sort through it all.” Stan sighed. “Trust me on that one, captain. I’ve tried before.”

Castillo nodded. “If his friends showed up they may have expected him. We’ll assume for now he’s back in Miami and lying low for some reason. But keep an open mind.” He looked down at his desk. “We have the entry team as backup for your buy tomorrow night. I don’t trust bikers.”

“That’s why I wanted them, captain. My gut says Hector’s pretty level-headed, but Rusty’s a wild card and Mutt is stupid enough to shoot himself over an argument with himself.”

“Brick will be here early. Go over your plan with him and make any adjustments you need to.” Castillo felt his headache starting to build behind his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Now go home and spend some time with Gina.”

“I’ll do that, boss. But you’d better do the same with Trudy.” Stan smiled. “I never thought I’d say that.”

“You’re right, Stan. I should do that. Thank you for your great work today. You’ve got a good team.”

Once Switek left, Castillo leaned back in his chair and let the full wave of the headache crash over him. They were always worse just before a bust, and he’d noticed they were getting worse as he got older. It was the price he’d paid for years, except now the toll was higher than it used to be.

Yet they always went away as soon as he got in the car with Trudy and headed for their home. Trudy. Just the thought of her and he could feel his muscles relaxing and the tension drain away from his temples. Still, the cases need a bit more of his attention.

Lester had brought him the list of active taps just before Switek and Mather came back from Topper, and Castillo looked at the three pages with more than a little amazement. He sometimes lost track of how active the Task Force had been, at least until he saw a list like that or a report on how much property they’d seized. Once set in motion, the unit ticked along like well-oiled machine.

So far they’d been able to stay one step ahead of the traffickers and arms dealers. So far. But Castillo knew things were changing. He saw it in the intelligence reports and bulletins, and in things like the boat full of heads. Eight heads was a powerful message, if that was what it was supposed to be. He still wasn’t sure, but with two active cases, maybe three, he didn’t have the resources to chase it. And so far it was still Metro-Dade Homicide’s case. With any luck it would stay there.

He heard the others leaving through the office door. Team Elvis first, bantering and backslapping in a way he wouldn’t have suspected not too many months before. Then Crockett, Tubbs, and O’Laughlin, talking about plans for the evening. Once he might have listened with a hint of jealousy, knowing more paperwork waited in the dim light of his empty office. But now there was Trudy.

“Are you ready to go, my love?’ she asked as she came in.

“Yes. Sergeant Franz’s list of active taps can wait until tomorrow.” He got up and came around the desk, taking her in his arms and kissing her. “I’m looking forward to the waves and maybe hearing more of that piece you’ve been working on.”

“Only if you make those Vietnamese noodles. I’m starving.” She smiled, her dark eyes glittering. “It’s been a long day.”

Castillo’s house was quiet, cloaked in deep shadows by the time they got there. Hanging up his jacket, he started dinner and water for tea in the kitchen, knowing she’d change into her habitual silk robe and then finish the tea while he put the last touches on their meal. Asian cooking was both quick and flavorful, and he loved surprising her with new combinations and tastes.

They ate at the low table and then took their tea onto the deck to listen to the waves. Trudy had been quieter than usual during dinner, and Castillo reached over and took her hand in his. “Is something bothering you, my love?”

“No, Marty. Not bothering me. I was just enjoying what we have.” She smiled in the gloom. “I still like to stop sometimes and just let it wash over me again. It’s been so busy since the wedding, and then my rehab and all…”

“I know.” He smiled, feeling a twinge low in his side where he’d been shot a bit over a year ago now. Or was it longer? Some days he wasn’t sure. “At least you were fine for the wedding.”

“And the honeymoon.” She smiled again. “That was the best part. But coming back to more rehab sucked. And then they had to clear me for duty again…so some days I just like to stop and see it all again like it’s new.”

“Each day is a gift of the new wrapped in the paper of the old.” He smiled.

“Another wise old Montagnard headman?”

“No. Me. Jack and I were drunk one night in Saigon and we started trying to come up with wise sayings. That’s the only one I remember.”

“I like it.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m going to go work on that composition some more. You should come in when you’re ready.”

“I will, my love.” He sipped the last of his tea, listening to the waves slap and slide over the sand. Their pull, the pull of the past, was less now, and he understood why. He had a present now. He waited until piano notes started to flow out the open window before getting to his feet and heading inside.

 

With only a few days until the first patients moved into Caitlin’s House, Sonny wasn’t surprised to find Jenny hard at work when he got back to Tranquility. She’d taken over the saloon table, spreading what looked like balance sheets and operations plans across it in a sequence only she understood. But he was glad to see her in her white t-shirt and almost invisible cut-offs. That meant she’d been back for a bit and lost most of her work tension.

She looked up and smiled when she heard his shoes on the companionway. “Hi, baby! I thought I felt you pull up out there. How was your day?”

“Quiet.” He leaned over and kissed her before shrugging off his gray blazer and hanging it up. The heavy 4506-1 slapped his side, reminding him it would need attention later. Miami humidity played hell with firearms, even when they were stainless steel, and a series of very determined DIs at Paris Island had left him with ingrained cleaning habits that would never go away. But for now he just wanted to sit and watch Jenny work. “How was yours?”

“Good. Those new lawyers are great.”

“Yeah. One of ‘em used to work in the DA’s office, so I knew him from there. He’ll look after the place without trying to get in the way. I should have fired those other jackasses years ago.” He paused. “Did he get the restraining order?”

“Yes. He sent a copy back with me. They aren’t allowed within a mile of the premises and are to have no contact with it or us in any way. He also said to tell you the DA was looking at them for some other stuff.” She shrugged, turning back to the numbers. “I didn’t understand most of it, but he did say it involved the Vitorelli family.”

“Why am I not surprised? I never quite understood how those bozos got their hooks into Caitlin’s business in the first place.” He shook his head. “But we never really talked about that stuff much. Everything moved so fast, and we were just taking what time we could get with each other.”

“I know.” Jenny looked up from the balance sheets. “She…I know how it was. We never think about time until we don’t have it.”

He sat down next to her. “I’m not making that mistake again, darlin’. You have my word.”

“I know.” She smiled and touched his arm, her fingers tracing soft patterns when the short sleeves ended. “Just like I knew when we met that I’d spend all my time with you until there was none left to spend.”

“Tell you what. Can that wait? We can go topside and watch the stars.”

“I’d like that.” She leaned over and kissed his neck. “But I might not be looking up very much.”

“Are you tryin’ to kill old Bascom down the way?”

“No. Just using our time.” She smiled again, but he could see a spark in her eyes.

“I like how you think. And maybe I won’t be looking up much, either.”

She giggled. “Now who’s trying to kill old Bascom?”

Later, in the aft cabin, she eased herself down beside him on the big bed and sighed. “I needed that.” She kissed his neck and shoulder, snuggling up against him.

Running his fingers through her sweaty hair Sonny smiled at the cabin ceiling. “So did I, darlin’. And we’ll sleep good tonight.”

She sighed and shifted again so her whole body pressed up against him. “It feels good being able to work for something good. I just wanted you to know that.”

“I’m damned glad you want to help. I don’t know squat about that stuff you were staring at when I came home, and Angie’s stretched thin as it is.”

“It’s…I’ve always been good at that stuff. Like I said before. And it lets me do some good with daddy’s trust fund. Miserable old bastard never even tipped.” She slid her hand down his chest. “So it’s nice to do good with it.”

“Seems you do good with other things, too.”

“Sometimes.” She giggled, then her voice turned serious. “Sonny…have you thought about kids?”

“Not really. I guess…it’s not that I don’t want kids, but I’ve never had much luck. Billy…hell, he wouldn’t know me if we passed on the street. And Will…” He ran his hand along her hip. “But if you want…”

“No. I mean I would, but…”

“You can’t have kids.”

“No. I had an accident when I was sixteen. I…”

He touched her lips with a finger. “It’s fine, Jenny. I’m happy just being with you. Kids or no. Been there, done that. And I gotta say I’m better at trying to make ‘em than I am raising ‘em.” He stared off into the darkness. “Yeah,” he repeated. “Better at that than actually being a dad.”

“I thought you should know. And I’d understand…”

“Naw. Nothing to understand. I love you, Jenny. That’s what matters. You want kids, we can adopt. Or not. I’m good either way.” He smiled and rolled over to face her. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t get some more practice in…”

 

The team convened in the conference room just after six for a final review of the night’s plan. They’d brought in some extra chairs to accomodate Brick, Tiny, and the other members of the high-risk warrant team Pete had lent them for the operation. Sonny had to grin as Tiny continued to grumble. “I don’t get why we have to pretend to be ATF.”

Brick looked at his fellow deputy. “So the bad guys think it’s ATF rolling them up, dipshit.”

“Yeah, but it just don’t sit right is all.”

“Would you rather pretend to be FBI?”

“Screw that.”

The room dissolved in laugher until Castillo cleared his throat. “Give Sergeant Switek your attention.”

Sonny had read through the plan earlier and signed off on it, so he only half-listened as Stan went through it all again, adding in where Brick and his men would get involved. He’d wanted to see if they could get a fix on Carrera before their meet with Garcia tomorrow night, but Castillo wanted all hands on deck. After the fiasco with the raid on Holmes by the ATF he couldn’t blame the man one bit for wanting to play it safe. Still…he felt like he and Rico would just be in the way.

Stan’s voice brought him back to the briefing. “Randy and I asked for a demo of the weapons, so there will be some shooting. Stay on comms and don’t move until I give the go. Lester will have you all wired in.”

Randy grinned. “Or you can just follow the L’il Abner rig we got.”

Brick chuckled. “That is a hell of a truck you got.”

“Courtesy of some brain-dead Haitian runner if I remember right.” Rico grinned. “Maybe you’d better ask Sonny.”

“Don’t even mention that thing around me.” Sonny groaned, playing it up for the laughs. There was a time when it would have pissed him off to remember the bits of the Daytona arcing through the air or the grin on that bastard’s face as he blew it up, but those days were gone now. “Though it was kinda fitting to pick up Stone in the thing.” He looked over at the warrant team. “Long story. I’ll tell you some night at The Sanctuary.”

Trudy smiled. “Just don’t ask him out the car.”

Stan cleared his throat. “We’ll test the weapons and then if it’s all kosher we’ll make the buy. As soon as money changes hands Randy will give the go signal. ‘Give my regards to Uncle Sam’ is what we’re using. If it looks bad or something goes south, I’ll give the call.”

Brick nodded. “My boys will be standing by just out of sight. Tiny and I did a drive-by of the buy location and picked out a couple of places we can get the van without anyone being the wiser.”

“And I know where the Roach Coach will be.”

Sonny nodded. “Rico and I will be in the back again.”

Castillo looked around. “I’ll be here with Castillo and O’Laughlin. We’ll monitor the radios and direct traffic. If you need support it will be provided.”

Stan looked around, and Sonny felt a sudden surge of pride. The big guy had really come into his own. “If there are no more questions, let’s get this show on the road. We’ve got time, but that will let Brick’s boys get into position.”

Sonny looked out the window. “Looks like it’ll be overcast tonight. Means night vision won’t work for crap.”

Brick nodded. “We’ll get by. We’ve got tactical lights, and we’ll try the NVGs before anything goes down just in case there’s enough ambient light.”

Rico nodded. “Solid. Let’s do it.”

[mjcmmv]

I'm really enjoying this. I keep checking the forum to see if the next chapter is up!