Breaking Point Part XXIII

[Robbie C.]

It was after noon when they turned down the dusty road leading to the airfield, Rico at the wheel of the ugly Ford from the motor pool. Sonny sat in the passenger seat, smelling the cordite on his clothes and feeling the lingering effects of being in the hot seat in the kill house. Now he was trying to settle his nerves, focus on what needed to be done. It wasn’t easy.

Rico picked up on his his mood. “Ain’t felt nothing like that since our last firefight. Hell, that might have been more intense.”

“Yeah. I’ve never seen anything like it. Those guys are seriously good. You’d have told me about it beforehand, I wouldn’t have believed it could be done.”

“So how do we work this, partner?”

Sonny shook his head. “I’m still sorting through that one, Rico. We got the team and the birds to hit the island whatever the hell it is, but it’s the Miami end that’s got me worried. This is a snake with two heads, and we can’t miss either one.”

“At least ours is pinned on an island.”

“Yeah. It’s the easy piece, really. I’d rather be here, but we’re gonna need our big guns out there. No idea how many men they’ll have on that island. We can be pretty sure they don’t have many in Miami, and maybe those two hippies will give us a better picture.”

“Stan loves ‘em.”

“Yeah. And I just his judgement with the tech stuff. If he says they know their shit, that’s good enough for me.” Sonny looked out the window and shook his head. “Looks like it’s open air concert season.”

Jimmy Cole had his Marshall amp set up outside the hanger and was jamming away to what sounded to Sonny like Jimi Hendrix. Jackson Crane leaned against the side of the hanger, tapping his foot to keep time and watching through his aviator sunglasses. Both men looked up as the Ford swung into view, Jimmy’s last chord echoing through the amp and chasing itself off over the swamps.

Jackson broke the silence. “What happened to the flash ride?”

“Trying to keep a low profile is all.” Sonny climbed out into the baking afternoon heat, his own sunglasses shading his eyes. “Just wanted to let you know the op is a go. And your payment’s locked in.”

Jimmy shut off the amp and rested his guitar against it. “Good deal. What’s the destination?”

“Little vacation spot called Ilsa de las Arenas Rojas.”

Jackson nodded. “Island of the Red Sands. Flew in there a time or two with cargo.”

“Pick up or delivery?”

“Pick up mostly. Ain’t been out that way for a few years, though. Heard some rich dude planted a big old house out there and then keeled over in his mistress’s bed.”

Jimmy grinned. “Same old shit. I did a few runs over there, too. Before I got the fixed-wing, at least. I have heard it’s not favored by smugglers these days. Something about new occupants.”

“Yeah. We think Unit 8 has its jump HQ out there. So we’ll be needing lift in and out for ten men. Twelve if you want door gunners.”

“You can get pigs?”

“Yeah. Another blast from the past.”

Jimmy turned to Jackson and nodded. “We’ll get to planning it, Crockett. These men you got any good?”

“Two of them used to run with CCN.”

Jackson nodded. “They’re good, then.” He turned to Jimmy. “You think we can get Mikey and Rick for this?”

“Probably.” Jimmy turned to Sonny. “We got two old crew chiefs we can get for door gunners. No extra on your end…we’ll cover what they need.”

Jackson chuckled. “Hell, Mikey’ll probably do it for free.”

“And they solid?” Rico stepped around the car. “This is kinda…”

“Off the books? Yeah, I get it. I didn’t fly guys into Laos, remember? Mikey was my crew chief back then. They know the score.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jimmy turned back to the guitar. Slinging the strap over his shoulder, he turned the amp back on and launched into ‘Sunshine of your Love.’ “Go grab your bass, Jax! It’s ’69 all over again and we’re gonna rock and roll!”

Rico looked at Sonny and shook his head. “They all that crazy?”

“Wait’ll you get them in those birds, Rico. You ain’t seen nothing yet.” Sonny moved his head in time to the music, thinking back to the heat and smell of Da Nang. He could almost feel the thump of chopper blades beating the air. “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he repeated, almost to himself.

 

Rodrigo Delacruz stood in the middle of the house’s big, open living room, stepping to one side as a private loaded down with ammunition hurried past to one of the open patio doors. They’d been here almost six hours and communications weren’t established yet with either the home office or Miami. If something didn’t happen soon he’d have Sergeant Major Pascal shoot someone.

Looking around, he had to admit it was a good location. Just outside American waters so they couldn’t bother him, but close enough for him to lay a hand on the Maimi operation if necessary. But first he needed to talk to Salazar.

Turning, he spotted the stocky form of his sergeant major. “Gordo!”

“Si, my colonel?” The man strode over, taking steps that made him seem larger than he was.

“Staus of communications? Quickly.”

“They say another ten minutes and the antenna will be connected.”

“If it is not, shoot someone in eleven minutes. Preferably one of the newer recruits. I need a message, not a setback. Do you understand me?”

“Of course, my colonel. I would never make such an error.”

“See that you don’t. Or I may need to shoot a sergeant major to get the message across.” Rodrigo let his face relax slightly, just enough to let Pascal think he might be joking. He wasn’t.

Before Pascal could turn away, another nameless private scurried up and saluted. “We have communications with Miami, sir! The home office should be on line shortly.”

“Good. See to your duties, sergeant major. I’ll be in the communications room.”

The radios hummed and crackled, but Rodrigo ignored the noise and the men still working around him. His entire world was focused on his headphones and the microphone in his hand. “How are things going, Eduardo?”

“Very well, sir. We tied up a loose end today, and this Burnett is proving to be of greater value than we thought. Not only is he a major transporter, but the Task Force is watching him for some reason.”

“They are? And your plan?”

“We will use him to draw them into the open. Our electronic monitoring confirms the Task Force is having elements of the local police watch him. I think they’re gathering information so they can try to turn him into an asset for them. An informant of some kind. That means they will need to reach out. And we will be there when they do.”

“Excellent. And the other work?”

“The messages have been delivered and understood. So far the lieutenant has remained in control and has not exceeded orders.”

“Good on both counts. And the local police?”

“Have no idea we are here. They’re still poking around the Columbians trying to figure out what kind of gang war is brewing.” Rodrigo could hear the satisfaction in Salazar’s voice. “Our new informant is proving quite useful in addition to our electronic surveillance.”

“And this informant is of no use with the Task Force?”

“No. I’ll forward you the report on him, but he’s a new detective in the Robbery division. I’m expanding recruiting to target other divisions, but it’s difficult without girls. If this one hadn’t have had a weakness for cocaine we wouldn’t have gotten him.”

“Good work, captain. Keep me informed.” Rodrigo sat in the chair after he cut the transmission, letting his mind sort through what Salazar had said. He understood the usefulness of this Burnett, but he didn’t like the idea of working with such an independent Gringo. And one with such skills. No, they’d use him as long as they could and then use him as another message. But it would require careful handling. Salazar, not Orozco.

Getting up, Rodrigo left his technicians to their work and took a slow walk around the grounds of the estate. Looking over the defensive positions his men were setting up out of habit instead of need. But he didn’t discourage them. It was good training and kept them occupied instead of drinking and realizing they were many miles from the nearest woman. He’d have to look into having some whores brought out from time to time. Or maybe just one batch. Keep them until the men grew tired of them and then take them out on the water and shoot them. After all, they couldn’t go back to the mainland after they’d seen the island.

Still, there was enough room to conduct some training. Places the men could shoot and stay ready for action. That was what mattered. Once they were done setting up in Miami there were questions of supply to resolve. And that meant more messages. And maybe a takeover or two. It was basic strategy. Once you controlled the means of transportation it made sense to control at least one or two points of supply.

Looking out over the water, he could see how this insignificant speck of sand had gotten its name. The setting sun cast its red light over the water and onto the white sand, turning it a deep shade of red and orange. Smiling, he turned and headed for the house. There was still work to be done, and he wanted to be ready in the morning with new orders for Salazar. It was time to pick up the pace in Miami.

 

“So you’re really gonna do it?” Stan took a deep drink of his beer as he sat down on the couch. He’d come home still stuck in the world of radio frequencies and direction finders when Gina sprung her news.

“I think so, Stan. I really like what I’m doing. You know that. But lately it doesn’t seem like it’s enough. Chasing the same girls, seeing them go into some half-assed rehab, and ending up back on the streets two weeks later. Sissy wasn’t the first, and she won’t be the last.” Gina reached out and took his hand. “I just want to make a real difference. Not pretend I am. I already did that in OCB.”

Stan nodded, squeezing her hand. “I know, baby. And Sonny’s got something good starting over there. I don’t blame you at all for wanting to be part of it.” He shook his head. “I’m just wrapped up in this case. But there’s something there, too. Like it’s the last ride of the Wild Bunch or something. Castillo’s got that look. So does Sonny. And I think Rico’s catching it, too.”

“What does that mean?”

“I think after we stop Unit 8 there’s not going to be a Task Force any more. Pete will go, one way or the other, and that will be the end of it. You remember that ass clown, Franks? He was sniffing around the other day. I heard Castillo telling Sonny about it.” Stan shook his head, taking another drink. “They want to shut us down. We’re too good at what we do. Makes them look bad. And you know they don’t like looking bad.”

“So I should stay…”

“No, baby. Not at all. You should go where you’re happy and can do the most good. Me? I’ll drop my papers the second Castillo does and go do private work. You know how much they pay guys to go around and look for bugs? I could make three times what I do now, easy.” Stan looked down. “And we’re good in any case. Sonny paying for the wedding and all let me build up a nice reserve.” He smiled. “What is it they want you to do?”

Gina’s smile lit up the whole room. “I love you so much, Stanley Switek!” She kissed him, hard, and he couldn’t help but smile the whole time. “Angie says it’s called Director of Engagement. What it means is I get to work with the people I do now, but I’m helping them find ways to get girls to Caitlin’s House or arrange for places to stay for girls as they graduate and leave the House. Setting up fundraisers, donations, all that stuff.”

“Sounds like you’re a natural for it. You do all that stuff for your unit now, right?”

“More or less. But they’re offering me twice what I make now, and acted like they were embarrassed because it was too low!”

“You’ll do fine. And we’ll do fine.” Stan gave her hand another squeeze and got up. “I’m grabbing another beer. You want one?”

“Please. And then tell me about your day.”

“Not much to tell. That team came back, the one I told you about last night. They’re beyond good.” He told her what Rico had said about the kill house. “I’ve never heard of guys that good, and Rico said they went through it like it was something they did every day. And the other two! I learned more about radio direction finding from them in one afternoon than I did in three years with Metro-Dade. They look like bums, but they make Duddy look like a kid with a tin can and string ‘radio’ in his back yard.”

“How soon are you going to get these animals?”

“Soon. Sonny’s using himself as bait again. But he’s worth more to them alive than dead, so it’s a matter of drawing them out. Once that happens, the hippies get their location, Randy takes out their sniper, and then we hit all their bases and take them out.”

“Arrest them?”

Stan paused. This was the part he wasn’t sure about. “I don’t think so. That team doesn’t seem like the kind who make arrests, and Sonny and Castillo both talk about eliminating Unit 8, not arresting them. I’m not even doing normal taps. Just running those distraction tapes and trying to locate them. I don’t think arrests are in the cards for these guys.”

She nodded, her eyes clouding a bit. “And that doesn’t bother you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a little bit. Until I think of those eight heads. And how they shot up the Columbians. And Sissy. And everything I hear about what they did in Columbia and Peru. Maybe this is the only way to deal with them.”

Gina took a drink of her beer. “And Castillo’s ok with this?”

“It came from him first, baby. Then Sonny took it on.” He took another drink and shook his head. “Maybe that’s another reason I think it’s time to get out. I don’t know. Dave getting shot’s part of it, too. So far we’ve been lucky. Maybe too lucky. I don’t want to be around when our luck runs out.”

“I don’t want you to, either.” Gina leaned over, kissing him, and then rested her head in his lap. “Working with the Task Force scared me a bit. It was fun. I can’t deny that. But the things you do. The risks you take. It made OCB feel like crossing guard duty. And now…with these animals in Miami.” She looked up at him. “How do you do it?”

“I don’t really think about it.” He chuckled, taking another sip of his cold beer. “I think Lester and I keep going because they need us. After being a third wheel or damned go-fers in OCB it feels damned good to be needed. To know they couldn’t do quite a bit of what they do without me.” He ran his fingers through her thick hair before letting his hand stray further south. She giggled and moved closer. “But if the big three go, I’m punching, too. I won’t go back to Metro-Dade and be treated like some kind of special needs kid you only trot out when company’s around.”

“Good.” She reached up and guided his hand even lower than he’d planned. “And now you’d better finish that beer ‘cause mamma needs some lovin’.”

“Your wish is my command, fair princess.” He chuckled and drained the beer in one long, deep swig.

 

“Were they as good as they say?”

Rico had been lost in thought, looking out over the city, and Mindy’s voice took him by surprise. “Who?”

“Delta Force. That’s who Moneybags and his guys are.” She came up behind him with a sheepish smile on her face. “I did some checking with one of the guys in the office who was career Army before coming over. He said they’re the best of the best.”

“I’d say they’re better than you heard.” He told her about the kill room. “I damned near shit my drawers, but they went through it like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Like they could do it in their sleep. And their reaction drills! I ain’t ever seen anything like it. They make Brick’s team look like Metro-Dade trainees.”

“And I’ve never seen better than Brick’s guys.”

“You will if you see these cats move. And that’s just six of them. I think it was Hatchet said they’re running light this time out.” He smiled and pulled her to him. “I think they’ll make sure I get to the church on time, baby.”

“So you still…”

“I’m not gonna duck out and leave you standing at the alter. Not a chance.”

“After talking and thinking about Unit 8 all day, this feels like I’m in a different world.”

He nodded. “A better world, lady. It gives me something real to hold on to in the madness. So were you thinking fancy?”

She shook her head. “The only people I’d invite are the team. My family…”

“I get it. Pops and I haven’t really talked for years, and my mom’s gettin’ too old to travel.” He shook his head, sadness flashing for a moment in his eyes. “That and I don’t know how she’d take…”

“To you marrying a white girl.”

“Yeah. She’s pretty old school, even though her mother was Puerto Rican.” Rico shook his head. “She’d always say ‘that’s different’ and smack me with a newspaper.”

Mindy smiled. “I get it. I don’t know how my family would take it, either. They’re all old-school Irish Catholics.”

“So screw ‘em all. We’ll get married at The Sanctuary. Get the court stuff done and then have a  celebration there.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Unless you’d rather do something different.”

“No, I like that idea. Robbie’s been a great friend, and it’s kind of the team’s home away from home. I was thinking of Downbeat, but…”

“That’s our place.” Rico finished her thought. “I don’t wanna share it, either.”

“But the wedding’s only part…”

He kissed her, running a finger along the line of her jaw. “I know. It’s what comes next. I’ve been thinking about that. Not much, but some. I know both Sonny and Marty have been thinking about getting out, and if they do I’m going with them. I’ve got some savings, so we’ll be good until I can land a new gig.”

Her eyes got wide. “What about the payments?”

Rico paused. He’d given his word, but he also didn’t want Mindy to worry. “I might have told Sonny you asked me to marry you. He said the place was his present to us.”

“He did what? But this…”

“I know. I told him that. He just gave me that damned Cracker smile of his and said he knows how hard it is to start off a marriage on a cop’s pay.” Rico shook his head, still trying to wrap his head around it. “He said we’re all the family he really has. The team, I mean. And he was raised to look after family. The last payment I tried to transfer? It came back. He’s serious.”

She looked around again, her eyes wide like she was seeing the penthouse for the first time. “So this is all ours?”

“Yep.” He pulled her close, feeling her firm body through his suit. “But what will you do if I leave Metro-Dade?”

“Turn in my badge, too. If Pete leaves, there’s nothing for me in that office. Anyone they bring in will try to pull me back for desk work. And I can’t go back to that. Not filling out warrants and trying to keep some mangy old bastard from pinching my ass all day.” She giggled. “Not when I can have you pinch my ass all day. Or other things…” Then her voice turned serious. “That and I keep hearing rumors over there about that Franks guy. He’s still sniffing.”

“And he will. He’s got a major hard on for Sonny. He’s never liked me much, either. Chump’s too afraid of Castillo to do anything, but if he smells any kind of weakness he’ll jump.”

“But what would you do if you left the force?”

“Private security. Mall cop. Hell, maybe Caitlin’s House needs a janitor.” He laughed. “The thing is, baby, it doesn’t matter. So long as we’re together. But first we gotta take down Unit 8.”

“Those two guys who were talking to Stan and Lester? They know their stuff. It sounds like their plane is loaded with gear. They can even pinpoint most burst transmissions and the mobile units like you have in the cars.”

“Damn. And once we get one location…”

“We should be able to track them through property records to others. So far I haven’t found anything listed under the shell company that bought the island, but one hit in Miami should lead to more.” She gave his arm a gentle tug. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry.”

“How does Rudolfo’s sound? Catch a bite there and still make the second set at Downbeat.”

“I like how you think.” She smiled and leaned into him. “And then when we get back you can take advantage of me. You know how I get after a good second set.”

“That I do, pretty lady.” He smiled and smacked her backside, drawing another throaty giggle from her. “That I do.”

 

Martin Castillo sat on the deck of his house as the sun rose, a steaming cup of green tea in his hand. He’d been up for at least an hour, listening to the word change from night to day and letting his brain work through the problem that was Unit 8. He was out here because, like Moneybags, it reminded him of the jungle. He’d done some of his best planning in the Laotian highlands, and again in the jungles and paddies north of Saigon. The sounds, smells, the thickness of the air…all combined to put his head in that difficult space.

After the range he’d spent most of the afternoon talking with Moneybags and Hatchet, visiting places most had either forgotten or never known. Randy joined them, and soon it was something of an informal reunion. But they all understood what lay ahead.

He’d been glad for Crockett’s report about the pilots, and the fact that they had their own experienced door gunners. Rounding up weapons wasn’t a problem. Pete just chuckled over the phone and said the goods would be delivered along with any ammo he needed. He did say he was changing the detail on Dave, but only to free up Brick’s team for the impending raids. “They know how you boys work, an’ I don’t want to mess with that magic.” Castillo agreed.

Magic. A single word too many tossed around for the wrong reasons. But he’d seen things in the highlands, out with the Hmong and Montagnards, that he couldn’t explain any other way. And he felt it with the Task Force, a team pulled together from a variety of parts no one else seemed to want.

And it worked. Better than anything he’d ever been part of before. The busts they’d made. The lives they’d changed, both theirs and those around them. Three years ago he wouldn’t have believed it was possible. But the results were all around him. And the most important one was still sleeping in their bed, waiting for the first rays of the sun to wake her.

One thing the Montagnards said about magic was it was important to know when it left an area. Or a person. Favor from the gods carried an expiration date, or so they thought. Listen to your heart the old shamen always said. Your head will lie. Your heart will not. And he knew his heart was telling him it was time to go. With Franks sniffing around looking for any excuse to cause trouble and Pete facing either a promotion and transfer or retirement, those were signs no wise mountain tribesman would ignore.

The tea was starting to go cold, but he sipped anyhow and looked out toward the water. There was just enough light to see it shimmering now between the trees, but the slap of the waves was always there. His constant companion and reminder of the cost of failure. He dreamed of the team less frequently now, but that didn’t mean Jess, Gus, Hoang, or Ti Ti were slipping from his thoughts. He knew Jess never would, but he found himself thinking of Ti Ti more often. The grizzled old Nung who’d been fighting other men’s wars for most of his life. He’d learned much from the man, and never forgot he owed his life the Nung. Ti Ti had thrown himself on a grenade intended for Castillo.

They were the forgotten ones. The ‘little people’ from the hills and mountains. He’d been happy to find out Moneybags missed them almost as much as he did, and they spend a good couple of hours talking about ‘Yards or Nungs they’d worked with, run teams with, and more often than they’d like taken back to their villages for burial. He’d spoken of his lingering guilt at not knowing where to send Ti Ti’s body, and Moneybags looked at him. “You buried him with warriors. They were his family. It’s exactly where he would have wanted to be. My first team was solid Nung. Those boys were their own tribe, their own clan. Best warriors I ever knew.”

“I thought I’d find you out here.” Trudy’s voice startled him. He’d been sunk too deep in memories.

“Yes. I wanted to watch the sun come up.”

“Then why are you looking the wrong way?” She sat down next to him with a soft smile, a cup of tea in her hand.

“I was thinking.” He smiled, shaking his head. “No, remembering really.”

“About your team? Jess?”

“No. Ti Ti. The old Nung.”

She smiled. “I’ve thanked him many times, you know.”

“For what?”

“For saving you for me.” She looked down. “My next piece is about him. I’ve been listening to Oriental music. Trying to bring him into jazz.”

“He’d like that. Ti Ti was always fascinated by music. One of the pilots had a tape deck and used to play jazz from time to time. Ti Ti came in one day when he was playing some Charlie Parker and had to know what made that beautiful sound.” Castillo shook his head, sipping cold tea. “He was a very deep man. And I never knew his proper name. Just Ti Ti. He always said ‘that all you need to know’ if I asked him more.”

“I’ll work that in.”

“I’d like to hear it whenever you’re ready.” He closed his eyes, letting images of Ti Ti play back through his head.

“Did you have any pictures of him? Or the rest of your team?”

The question jarred, but he refused to show it. She meant no harm. “I believe so. One of two. I’d need to check the box.” In truth he knew he had many pictures. Both of the team and individuals. They were in his locked teak box, a gift from Ti Ti. ‘You keep memories here,’ he’d said when he’d given Castillo the box just before he rotated South for his stint with Project Phoenix. ‘Keep them safe from spirts and bring you back to us.’ Then he shook his head. “Let’s go look now. There’s something I need to get out of it.”

The charm was simple. A tiger’s tooth suspended from a plain hammered gold chain. It was another gift from Ti Ti, who’d also explained the precise engravings on the tooth. He handed two pictures to Trudy before slipping the charm over his head and letting it settle around his neck. “He had this tooth engraved by one of the Montagnard shaman,” he said in explanation. “Something about keeping me safe. I didn’t wear it on that mission. But I will wear it for this last mission.”

Her eyes went wide. “So you decided?”

“Yes. Out there just now. Jack and Ti Ti always told me to listen to my heart and not my head. And my heart says it’s time to go. I’m the last one left out of all of them. I owe it to them to live for them, not for some job or imagined duty.”

“Then I’m done, too.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, and he could taste the green tea on her tongue. “We’ve done great work, but…”

“The ‘Yards always said the favor of the gods has an expiration date. And I feel like we’re nearing that date. We’ve been very fortunate so far. I’d like to be smart this time and get out before it takes a wrong turn.”

“We are pushing our luck. The only ones who haven’t been hurt are Randy, Mindy, Rico, and Sonny.” She looked down at the pictures. “He’s…”

“Impressive. Yes. But he had a big heart. I think he started fighting other men’s wars when he was thirteen. He loved the highlands and always felt safe in the mountains. I think his family had actually been killed by the Vietnamese, because he hated them. North or South, it didn’t matter.”

“We should probably get ready, my love.” She smiled. “Sonny won’t let us live it down if he beats us to the office again.”

[mjcmmv]

It's meaningful to have Castillo's past tied into what's happening.

I worry a bit about each one of them and wonder if they'll all make it out of this alive, but then, that's what makes this story so suspenseful!