Breaking Point Part XIV

[Robbie C.]

Rico stood on the rooftop patio of Casa Cooper with a glass of scotch, looking out over the blinking neon of Miami. He’d lost track of how long he’d been staring there, watching the night claim the city.

Mindy came out, resting her hand of his arm. “I just got off the phone with Randy. He said Dave’s doing as well as can be expected, whatever that means.”

“It means he’s alive and can talk. But for a guy like him being out of the action has gotta be hell. I think that’s what Randy means.”

She nodded. “You’re right. Dave always had to be in action. Now it’s on Randy. At least the captain will be with him.”

“Yeah. Makes me wonder if there’s anything Marty can’t do.”

“Sit on the sidelines.”

Rico chuckled. “You got that right, pretty lady. Martin Castillo has never done well on the sidelines.”

“Maybe he should start. He’s got something to lose now.”

The scotch bit at the back of his throat. “Yeah. And he knows that.”

Mindy sighed. “I just can’t shake how he looked when he got word Trudy had been shot. It was like someone had reminded him he was human.”

“They did. He’d been on his own for so long I think he forgot how to hurt like that. If he ever really knew.”

She looked out over the lights without speaking, and he wasn’t sure what was going on in her head. In some ways Mindy was an open book, and in others she was as mysterious as Jenny. He shook his head. Naw, she’s more mysterious than Jenny because you expect Jenny to be mysterious. Mindy? Not so much. They’d been living together for months now, and there were still days when he didn’t know what she was thinking. But he liked it.

After a time she sighed. “Do you ever think about what comes after all this?”

“The Job?” He shook his head. “Not really. At least not until lately.”

“I do. You don’t have to worry about being reassigned. Pete’s been good to work for, but if they do end up promoting him the new guy would likely try to replace at least some of us.”

“Yeah. And I’d have to go back to Metro Dade or turn in my badge.” Rico smiled. “But we’d better worry about these Unit 8 chumps first.” He looked out over the city. “It don’t feel right standing here with Dave in the hospital and those punks walking the streets.”

“We don’t…”

“I know, babe. We don’t have enough information to make any moves. But knowing and having it feel right aren’t the same thing. At least we could be shaking the trees to see if Carrera falls out.”

 

“We should be doing something.” Martin Castillo looked out at the blackness where the waves would be. “I know we can’t. We have no target, minimal information. But it doesn’t feel right sitting back when one of our own has been shot.”

Trudy nodded, touching his shoulder as they stood on the deck of the house they shared. “I know. But we don’t even have good pictures of the colonel or that captain, let alone anyone else.”

He nodded in the darkness. “They’re ghosts. Ghosts our government made and turned loose on the word. I stood by and watched that for too long. But it ends here. In Miami.”

Her fingers gripped his shoulder and he could feel her worry. “Do you think the Task Force can beat them?”

“No. Not if they’re all in one place. But they won’t be. They have interests to protect, and this colonel will follow his training. He’ll secure his rear areas, but want to be close to the action so he can make the important calls. He’ll be at least that predictable.”

She was quiet for a time, listening to the waves with him. When she spoke her voice was softer. “Do you really think they’ll go after Sonny?”

“I don’t know. But he’s our best bet. They target transportation networks, and Burnett’s cover is in transportation. He’s one of the few major players left after Moncado went down and we rolled up his network. Most of what’s left are little fish.”

“And Unit 8 doesn’t care about little fish.” Trudy smiled as she answered her own question. “Do you think he’s ready?”

“Yes. He’s made his peace with that side of himself. He’ll need your support, though. Tubbs and Switek both have doubts still.”

“Can you blame them?”

“No.” He looked out toward the sound of the waves, letting his mind slide through old memories. Times he should have pulled Crockett back and didn’t. Opportunities missed. Zito’s murder had been at least partly his fault because of his failure to rein in Crockett.

Trudy sensed the shift in his mood and changed the subject. “How’s Randy?”

“Good. It helped for him to see Dave and to get back out on the range.” He hadn’t told her about the incident with the Metro sniper and didn’t plan to. But he had filed a report with the lieutenant who commanded the SWAT team with a request for an update on action taken. Someone like Carter was a threat.

“How does he shoot?”

“Better than Blair.” Castillo shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone shoot as well as Mather does. And he’s working through his demons. When the time comes he’ll do what needs to be done.”

 

The Task Force met around the conference table the next morning, the air thick with Stan’s brewing coffee and donuts Rico and Mindy had picked up on the way in. Sonny stood in one of the corners of the room, coffee cup in hand, looking from the map to the assembled team and back again. He was still tired from last night, but he also felt like some pieces had fallen into place in his head.

Castillo caught his eye and nodded. “Ok, people. Let’s get this party started.” Sonny sat down in his usual spot. “First, how’s Randy doing?”

Dave cleared his throat. “He’ll be laid up for a bit with that bad wing, but Pete’s got an entry team covering him. Not Brick’s guys, but a team just as good. They’ll be in position until this shit is resolved.”

“Good. I’d say swing by and visit whenever, but this Unit 8 is good. Odds are they’re trying to find him, and we don’t want to give his location away. I’m sure Randy will be happy to take Dave any messages.”

Randy nodded. “He did want me to tell Stan the plan was damned good. It didn’t have a damned thing to do with his gettin’ hit.”

Stan nodded, blinking rapidly. “Tell him thanks. That means a lot.”

“You’ve all read up, so you know what we’re facing. These guys are both psycho and military-trained.” Sonny shook his head. “No, that’s wrong. They ain’t psychos on the whole because they don’t do it to get off. They do it because it’s effective, and that’s worse. Means they won’t make stupid mistakes chasing the thrill. One of two of ‘em will because outfits like that always have a few nut jobs in the mix.”

Rico looked up from his examination of his cuticles. “So how do we get them?”

“Easy, partner. We use me as bait. They hit transportation, right? And what does Sonny Burnett do? Transportation. Burnett’s one of the few big-timers left in business after Moncado went bye-bye and the Mendoza brothers started pushing up daisies. So they’ll come to me. It’s just a question of how and when.”

Lester looked around. “What if they just try to whack you?”

“They might, but I’m betting they have a standard drill they follow. Warn and then send a message if the warning is ignored. They warned Victor, and compared to Burnett he was a two-bit punk.” He looked at Stan and Lester. “How are we on comms?”

“Good.” Stan’s voice was confident. “We’re going to start shifting frequencies regularly and limit our use of the fancy stuff. We’ve also got some of those dummy transmissions cooked up that we can start cycling any time you need them. Things to throw them off if we’re operating.”

“Nice work, guys.” He turned to Rico. “Did we ever hear back from Metro Dade?”

“Yeah. The captain asked me to call Baker in Homicide. He said they didn’t have any new leads on that, but their snitches are starting to pick up chatter about a new tax on coke coming into the city that’s kicking up street prices. They weren’t sure if it was connected or not.”

“It is.” Castillo’s voice was flat. “What’s our next move?”

“I’m gonna go troll for Carrera. Maybe bring Cooper along in case he decides he wants to talk business.” Sonny smiled. “The little worm might have something we can use.”

“I want a cover plan. These men are dangerous. More dangerous than any we’ve faced before. Pairs might not be enough. And they’re also skilled enough to pick up our standard cover patterns.”

Sonny nodded. “The captain’s right. We know they use snipers, so they could be overwatching us just like we’ve been doing to people for months now.”

Mindy shook her head. “But a bigger team’s easier to spot. If we start working in fours, we might as well hold up signs.”

Castillo nodded. “I agree. It’s a fine balance, and I don’t know which side we should be on.”

“But we can’t just stick with business as usual.” Sonny’s voice was firm. “Over the years I’ve established Burnett as a guy who doesn’t go to meetings alone. He has a buyer with him, or one or two of his security people. He never works alone.”

Stan nodded. “Like Biggs and Patch.”

“Exactly. And it’s not always the same people around him. These guys will spot a pattern, but some patterns make sense. We can use that.” He took a sip of coffee and then his voice changed. “The thing is, they’re already here. They’re collecting this tax of theirs. They’ve already shot one of our own. They’re ahead of us now, and I won’t let that stand. We need to find them, draw them out, and then crush them. Mindy, Trudy, keep digging on the unit itself. They’re going to have weaknesses, and I want to know as many of them as you can find. Who would this colonel send north first? What do we know about him?”

Trudy nodded. “Already working on it, Sonny.”

“Keep me posted.” Sonny turned away from the table. “These guys won’t allow for many mistakes, if any. We need to be at the top of our game. And that means everyone needs to get in some range time. Shoot as teams if you can. These guys are all combat veterans. Don’t underestimate them.”

Castillo nodded. “Range time and ammunition are not concerns. Chief Deputy Washington has approved it all. He knows what we’re up against and wants Unit 8 stopped. I want everyone in this office qualified to at least high-risk warrant team standards as soon as you can. If you’re already there, push higher.”

As the meeting broke up, Sonny poured himself another cup of coffee and stared at the map. Trying to figure out how to steal a move on these people. And it wasn’t easy. He couldn’t really do anything until they tried to lean on Burnett. And he hated waiting.

Rico eased up beside him. “I hate the waiting, too. How do you want to play this?”

“We’ve already got Cooper in play with Carrera, so we’re kinda stuck with that.” Sonny shook his head. “But I’d love to get this Marus out there somewhere. How do you see him fitting in with Burnett?”

“New York muscle and maybe transportation.” Sonny watched Rico’s brow furrow in thought. “I played him there as a bad-ass wheelman with potential. So that’s how he’d flow down here, I think.”

Sonny nodded, letting his brain work over the possibilities. “Good. We can play Cooper out with Carrera, and then slip Marcus in once we move past him.”

“How do you figure?”

“This bunch doesn’t like dealing with middle men. They’ll push Carrera out of the way as soon as they have a line on Burnett. And that’s where we can deal Marcus in. Maybe he’s Cooper’s line to New York. His head of security. Hell, you can figure that one out. But that point in the process would be a natural place to bring him in if that’s what you want to do.”

Rico nodded. “It makes sense. They need transportation guys. Cooper as a buyer? He might just be collateral damage.”

“Pretty much.” Sonny smiled, feeling Burnett’s analytical side rising strong in his head. When he had that feeling things just seemed to float into place. He could never explain it, but it was a rush with few equals. “But if they wanted to take out buyers they would have the other night. That shooter hit Victor first because he was the target, and Dave because he was a threat they hadn’t anticipated. If you or Garcia would have been a target, he would have hit one of you before Dave. Military guys follow orders.” He smiled again. “I think they might leave buyers alone, at least for now. No buyers, no movement. But we need to move before they decide they need another message.”

“You think they will?”

“I don’t see why not. Hell, Burnett would never stop with just one or two. It’s all about control. And if they fear you, you have control. I think the ones with experience down south already fear them, and they know that. The boat was intended for them. It’s the runners who never dip down into Columbia they have to get their hooks into now. And I think that’s why they took out Victor like they did. It shows they can be reasonable. At least in that world.” Sonny shook his head. “And we got no way of knowing how many men they already have in Miami, or how many more they’re bringing in. If Unit 8 was company strength, they’d have over two hundred guys. But with a colonel in command, that could be over two thousand.”

Rico whistled low. “Shit.”

“You got it, pal. They won’t be able to bring all their people north, but you can bet some of the key personnel will come.” Sonny looked away from the map. “And if we can get those people, we might be able to break this Unit 8. But they’ll be trying to do the same to us.”

“You think so?”

“Hell, Rico. Breaking Moncado and Maynard stirred up enough shit they have to know there’s a new player on the field. We’ve been damned busy, and that’s like taking out a full-page ad most of the time. They might not know who we are yet, but they’ll know someone’s out there.”

“And all we have is Carrera?”

“Pretty much. I don’t think Hector and his boys know shit, and Garcia already told us everything he knew. These guys don’t seem to leave many witnesses around. As far as the guns go, I think Holmes’ guy just happened to steal a case or two from the shipment bound for Peru. Did ATF ever pick up anyone on the military side of that deal?”

Rico shook his head. “If they did, they didn’t say shit about it.”

“Have Trudy or Mindy pass it along. Maybe it’ll give them something to work from. And we don’t have time to clean up any more of their messes.”

“And what about Carrera?”

“We’ll go trolling for that bozo tonight.”

 

Eduardo Salazar set the headphones on his desk and allowed himself a thin smile. The radio specialist had been correct. Through the hissing static and garbled voices he’d been able to confirm the emphasis. It wasn’t a task force, it was the Task Force.

Taking a sip of coffee gone cold in the cup on his desk, Salazar turned his mind to the problem. When the Gringos put together a task force it meant more than one agency was involved. He’d worked with some during his training in Virginia, and knew more agencies equalled a larger and slower task force. This one seemed much faster, so he guessed there were no more than three agencies involved. One would have to be the local policia. Yankees and their protocol. But the other…that was a question he needed to answer.

He doubted it would be the FBI. This unit moved too fast and too aggressively to be FBI. And given the rumors still swirling about the demise of some pig arms dealer named Holmes he didn’t think they were ATF. At least one source said Holmes and his pigs were busy shooting up an ATF raid when this unit swept in and finished the job. And if they were DEA he assumed El Unidad’s source would have said something. Reaching out, he flipped through the typed report of Sergeant Major Pascal’s interrogation of the punk Pancho. He didn’t care for Gordo’s methods, but they did have their uses.

As his eyes scanned the lines, his mind wandered. Images flashing almost at random. Sitting in a hotel room outside of Alexandria, Virginia, waiting for a delayed class to begin. He’d been flipping through the TV channels, skipping past dry as dust American daytime dramas and talk shows, when he’d paused for a moment. It was an old program, black and white where the others were in color, set in a town called Dodge City. And then his eyes found the words and he knew. “Marshal Dillon,” he whispered. “Matt Dillon. U.S. Marshal. It was under our noses the whole time.” Reaching out, he hit the button on the wondrous device from Radio Shack. “Corporal. A word.”

The radio specialist was there in seconds. “Yes, captain?”

“I want you to search the airwaves carefully. Listen for anything relating to U.S. Marshals or the Marshal’s Service.”

“Sir?” He could see the confusion in the younger man’s eyes.

“There is a Task Force, Felix. I’ll also need a secure channel with the colonel later tonight. He must hear this directly from me. I think the agencies involved are this Metro-Dade police force and the Marshals.”

Felix nodded, knowing not to question when the captain’s voice was this serious. “And the lieutenant?”

“His men should be here by tomorrow, yes?”

“Correct, sir. One or two are already here, but the full team won’t be assembled until late tomorrow.”

“Good. If he gets anxious, send him to me. And let me know when the connection is ready with the colonel.” Once the corporal was gone, Salazar closed the interrogation report with a satisfied smile. Knowing the enemy was half the battle, and he felt like he at least had identified the enemy now. The next step was pinning them down.

He knew where one of their number was, and had the hospital under constant surveillance. At last report the wounded man had at least two guards, but Corporal Hidalgo said they were not regular police. They wore no uniforms, were bigger than most police, and moved with the confidence of trained, experienced men. Marshals, perhaps. He’d heard about their high-risk warrant teams, and had seen one or two in action during his training. If those men were guarding the wounded one it would take a major operation to reach him, and Salazar didn’t believe it was worth the risk. Better to use the wounded one as bait to identify others.

He wished the colonel would have sent Lieutenant Nunez instead of Orozco. Nunez was trained in intelligence, a function he needed now more than ever. Orozco was a hammer, not a precision drill. But he’d have to use what he had on hand. At least Hidalgo was properly trained for his mission.

Thinking back, he tried to remember what his instructors had said about the Marshal’s Service. They seemed to have a wide mission, and powers that ranged just as broadly. Transporting prisoners, chasing Federal fugitives, working with other agencies. They were skilled manhunters, and that worried him.

He was much less impressed with Metro Dade, although they did have some capable officers. Which element would the Marshals be working with? Homicide? Narcotics? Organized Crime? And without Nunez he’d have to work it out on his own. Maybe he could start Sergeant Velendez on the newspapers. He could look for names that featured in crime reporting and then disappeared. This Task Force kept a low profile, and perhaps the best way to track its members was to see who disappeared from reporting. Especially just before the Moncado incident.

Reaching out, he activated the intercom again. “Send in Sergeant Velendez. I have orders for him”

 

The Overton’s pink and blue neon blazed out in the darkness, and Sonny slipped on his sunglasses before stepping out of the Ferrari. Rico nodded, opening his own door. “Let’s get this party started.”

For Sonny the shift started as soon as they’d stepped off the elevator into the underground garage. His face set in the blank Burnett stare. Inflection disappearing from his voice. Putting on the Ray Bans completed the change. His black blazer disappeared in the darkness, along with his black shirt and dark slacks. Next to him Rico was a blaze of color in his Armani suit. It was all part of the show.

The doorman nodded and used his big arms to shift the crowd back. “Good to see you again, Mr. Burnett.” Sonny nodded and slipped the thickset man a twenty. Then they were inside, his eyes sweeping over faces tinted pink and blue from the neon along the bar.

The bartender hurried over, his eyes bright with recognition. “Mr. Burnett. Mr. Cooper. Good to see you two again.”

“Black Jack neat and a scotch on the rocks for Cooper.” Sonny leaned toward the bar. “Carrera around tonight?”

The skinny man nodded, his head bobbing like one of Stan’s hula girl bobbleheads. “Sure is. He’s back at table twenty two with some broad and another guy. Should I…”

“Just get us our drinks, pal. We’ll find our own way.” Sonny’s smile wasn’t a smile at all, and the man swallowed three times before turning back to the line of bottles on the back bar.

Rico’s voice filled his ear. “I see the little chump. He’s got what looks like a midrange hooker and maybe a guard with him.”

“Don’t loose them.” Sonny tossed a fifty on the bar. “Let us know when that hits twenty, pal.”

“You got it, Mr. Burnett.” Sonny tuned away before the man could jabber something else.

“I think that punk might have pissed his pants.”

“At least he’s on that side of the bar.” Sonny felt the bourbon bite the back of his tongue as he took a sip. “Any other familiar faces?”

“Naw. Not that I can see. This place is a zoo, though.”

The weight of his big 4506-1 was reassuring as he took another drink. “Yeah. I don’t see squat aside from our pal and his rent-a-friends.” Sonny kept his glass in his left hand, leaving the right free for serious work. “Let’s go say hello.”

Carrera had been in mid-joke when he caught sight of Sonny and Rico, and the smile died a quick death on his narrow face. “Burnett. Cooper. What a surprise.”

“Raphael Carrera.” Sonny spun one of the free chairs around by the back and straddled it. “You got any good news for us?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Maybe you’d be more comfortable without the hooker and the goofball with the gun.” Sonny looked from one to the other. “Go take a powder.”

The girl bolted from the table like she’d been shocked with a cattle prod. The gunman looked like he was going to debate the point until Rico sat down within arm’s reach. “You heard the man. We got business with your boss. Big boy business.”

Carrera made a show of being in control. “It’s cool, Dom. Go keep an eye on Sissy there. I still got four hours on the books.” He tried to make his voice firm, but Sonny could see sweat beading in his well-moussed hairline. Once they were alone he tried again. “What the hell is this, Burnett? Scaring off my date?”

“Be glad I didn’t just slap you in front of her. How do you think that would play?” Sonny kept his voice flat, almost bored. “I don’t care about your night, pal. I care about making some connections for my friend Cooper so I can get paid.”

Rico nodded. “And I’d think you’d care about your cut of any deal, Raphael. The way I hear it, the pipeline’s opening up again.”

Carrera gave a slight nod. “So they say. But it’s not like the old days.”

Sonny flagged a passing waitress almost wearing a short black dress. “Black Jack and scotch, darlin’. That puke at the bar has my tab.” Once she left he turned back to Carrera. “And that means what to me?”

“Those heads, man!”

“I heard about that. So some psycho sends eight heads floating in? For all I know it was some damned family reunion gone wrong.”

“You don’t work south, do you?”

“Nope. I’m strictly pick it up and move it through South Florida. I tried that south of the border routine once and got burned.”

“So you don’t know…” Carrera’s voice trailed off, and he drained whatever multi-colored drink he’d been nursing in a single gulp. When the waitress returned he waved his empty glass. “Get me another. A double this time.”

Rico played it up. “I read something about those heads. The cops think it’s some kind of Voodoo ritual or something, don’t they? If we were up north I’d say it was the Mob.”

“You should wish it was the mob, Cooper.” Carrera went silent until his drink arrived, then he drained the glass with a single long gulp and ordered another. “Look, if you’d worked south you’d understand.”

“Understand what? That you’re a pussy who’s wasting our time?” Sonny rested his arms on the back of the chair. “I think I understand that pretty well, Carrera.”

“No, man! Not that shit. I mean about Ocho.”

“Eight? Yeah, there were supposed to be eight heads. So you can count past one hand. You want a prize?”

“Look, Burnett. Ocho runs the trade down south. Anything that moves through their territory has to pay a toll. A tax. Whatever you want to call it. You don’t pay, you end up stuffed in eight tires and set on fire. Or they kill eight of your people and leave the heads in a figure eight. They don’t touch the drugs, just the people who move them. And now they’re here.”

“First I’ve heard of it.”

“You will, Burnett. Trust me. The way I hear it, they warned one guy just the other day and blew his head off when he said no. Course he ran south quite a bit, so they knew him and he knew them. But they’ll get to you. And they’ll warn you. Pay or pay.”

“English, Carrera.”

“Pay us or pay the consequences. And you don’t want the consequences.”

“I’m still not impressed. And you haven’t told me what you can do for Cooper.”

“Look, I can try to set something up. But it ain’t gonna be cheap. Anyone moving product north is taking a hit from the tax, and they pass it on. And they might not do business with you, Burnett, until you’ve paid the tax. They don’t want Ocho coming after them for working with someone who hasn’t paid.”

Sonny shook his head. “Maybe we’ll go find Pancho, then.”

Carrera’s laugh was a sharp bark. “Good luck with that. He went to Columbia and hasn’t been seen since. Whispers are Ocho grabbed him because he didn’t want to pay.”

“That’s funny. I heard he’s back in town.”

“Maybe someone claiming to be him, but not Pancho. That girl you ran off? She was one of his favorites. She said she hasn’t seen him since he went to Bogota, and Pancho don’t miss dipping his wick in her for a second after he gets back from a trip. If he ain’t on top of Sissy, he’s cut up in eight pieces and feeding the sharks.”

Rico looked at Sonny and shook his head. “I guess you don’t want to be part of a big deal, then, do you, Raphael? I’ve got almost four hundred large that’s looking for a place to call home.”

“Look…I didn’t say that. What I said is it’s gonna be tough. I’ll make some calls, but understand the weight will be lower than you’re used to because…”

“Yeah, yeah. This damned tax.” Sonny leaned forward, the front legs of the chair coming off the floor. “But if I find out you’re screwing us, Carrera, I’ll put a bullet in you. Eight of them if it’ll make you feel better.”

“I’m not screwing you, Burnett. I’ll make some calls and see what I can line up. Meet me here in a couple of days. Same time. But don’t be surprised if Ocho finds you first.”

They were back on the street before Rico spoke again. “That chump was scared clear through, Sonny.”

“Yeah. He was.” Sonny kept his eyes moving behind his sunglasses, scanning the sidewalk and doorways across the street for any movement. “I don’t think he’s holding anything back about Unit 8, even if he only knows them as Ocho.”

“You think he’s right about Pancho?”

“Yeah, I do. And that means those bastards snuck someone in using his ticket and probably his passport, too. And you can also bet he’s calling around right now, getting the word out that I’m in business and looking for a deal. And that I haven’t paid the toll. That should get back to this Unit 8 damned quick.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. We trained them to hunt guerrillas, and part of that is having good intel. You can bet the first people they sent were intel people, like those two Dave and Randy took out at the warehouse. The hitters will come next, and some are already here I’d say because of that boat.” He froze for a heartbeat and then reached into his jacket pocket for the pack of Lucky Strikes. “We got a tail. Across the street. Just inside the stairwell doorway next to that pawn shop.”

“You think it’s Carrera’s guy?”

“Maybe, but it could also be someone from Unit 8. I didn’t get a good enough look and he’s back in the damned shadows now.” Sonny took a deep puff, sending smoke into the thick night air. “But at least they’d expect us to try to lose them. I don’t want to lead anyone back to someplace important.”

“Solid. Let’s do it.” Rico grinned as Sonny unlocked the Ferrari. Once the door shut he looked over. “You think they might be watching for Carrera instead?”

“Maybe. But if it was me I’d be watching for anyone who met with him. Meaning they might have had somebody inside. No way to tell in that circus, though. Not without a second team of our own.” Sonny guided the car into traffic. “Keep an eye on our six and see if anyone breaks cover.”

“Dude just came out of that doorway. Looks like he’s checkin’ us out but he’s not moving. It’s too damned dark to tell if he’s got a radio or not.”

“I’ll take the long way back. Just to see if we grow a tail.”

[mjcmmv]

Salazar's getting closer to Identifying the Task Force. These guys are too smart. I can see why Castillo is really worried about this one.