guys. If you can help me when the time comes, fine. Cardenas will come fast.”
“Jamie, I’ll clear up any problems at the Company, but I want you to think hard about this. Hector Cardenas can be gotten other ways, over time.”
“Rachael, it’s my hope that the Company will let me deal with him. It’s personal, and I think I’ve earned the right to do this. Time is too valuable. Cardenas kills people every day; we don’t have the luxury of waiting for him to make a mistake.”
The meeting ended when Jamie became uneasy about spending more time taking to her. He was also worried that Rachael would be identified with him. So he excused himself and left quickly, leaving money for both drinks.
As a young man, Jairo Montez was raised on a poor goat farm near La Paz. His parents were loving people who allowed him to enjoy sports and friendships with his childhood friends in the town. His labor was needed to help make a poverty living for the family, but his parents insisted that he use his days to attend public school instead. Both of his parents were illiterate, and their boy was going to have more in life than they could provide.
Every year, during the American citrus harvest season, his father, and often his mother, would go north to California to live in the Bracero camps, picking fruit to make enough money to live the rest of the year in Mexico. They were hardworking, honest people. As Montez grew to high school age, his parents sent him to parochial school at Santa Maria Catholic Seminary in La Paz. By Jamie’s senior year, expenses were greater than the family could afford, even with the Bracero income.
Without telling his mother or him, Montez’ father started carrying small amounts of illegal drugs into California. He wasn’t a major trafficker and only received a small amount of money for taking such a risk.
At Montez’ graduation, he celebrated with his parents, then stayed in town with his friends for the night. The future was uncertain for him, but at least he had one last night without a burden.
Returning to the farm the next morning, he found his mother hacked to death and his father missing. He rode his bicycle to town for the police, who did nothing to console him. Within a few days, after his mother’s burial, the police advised him that he was in danger. A rising criminal drug smuggler was bragging that he had eliminated his competition and all their families as a warning to others. He was advised to leave town, and that his father was probably dead.
The one remaining gift from his parents was a U.S. birth certificate, so he fled north across the border. He found a home in the military. Years later, using the internet, he was able to research his parent’s murders. That was when he learned the name of the man responsible: “Cardenas.”
Leo Moritz
Leo Moritz was a twenty-year veteran of the Drug Enforcement Agency. Before that, he had been a career Army noncom (non-commissioned officer), having served twenty years directly from high school. That was something he and Jamie Montes had in common, although Leo was several years senior. He liked the soldier’s life and when he retired in his late 30’s, he looked for similar jobs that valued his military experience and would allow him to continue to work in the field, not in an office. The DEA was hiring ex-military because they required very little training in most of the critical aspects of the job.
Leo was ideally suited for field work, managing younger and more adventurous agents. Many of the field agents thrived on immersion into the drug channels, living a dangerous false life. Their official credentials were sealed from the moment of employment and then identities were never disclosed in public. Ten years ago, Leo had been responsible for the capture of a drug lord who was on a vacation trip inside the U.S. He was required to testify without disguise in open court, which meant that he could never work directly in the field again. All of his future work would be done inside the States. It ended his field leadership role, but elevated him to the next supervisory level. He was happy with the highest rank he’d ever wanted to achieve--but he still missed the field work.
He first met Jamie Montes when he was in the Army during operations in South and Central America. Their common background helped bond their relationship. When Jamie parlayed his Army background into the CIA, his friendship with Leo grew stronger. In their business, this relationship was paramount. Together, they had accounted for some of the largest drug seizures and criminal captures along the southern border.
He didn’t completely understand Jamie’s passion for fighting drug traffickers, but he had learn to trust him completely. The setup on Alejandro Cardenas was text-book. It had taken years of cultivation to gain his trust, which ultimately placed Cardenas himself in their sights. Jamie once said that it had been his recommendation to Cardenas to carry a gun on the trip across the border that ultimately led to the shootout when Cardenas resisted arrest. The old man didn’t realize how much speed and accuracy with a gun was lost through years of a rich, inactive lifestyle. Leo would have preferred to take Cardenas alive, but had no regrets watching him die. Now Jamie was playing with dynamite, stepping in to lead the cartel to destruction.
Bragging
Juan Morales was assigned desk duties at the El Paso Sector headquarters. No one expected him to go back on patrol for a while after his harrowing experience. He was quite a celebrity, having escaped the fate of Billy Ware. People in the HQ wanted to know all about his ordeal, which he explained for days. The local and national media hounded him for the story.
Leo Moritz was also intrigued, not only from the adventure aspect, but also for any information the DEA could use. One night he brought Morales a cup of coffee saying, “It’s a quiet night, Juan.”
“Yeah, I think the druggies are all scared after Smuggler’s Ridge. You sure deserve a lot of praise for that bust. So, when are you getting promoted and moving to Washington?”
Leo smiled to himself, “Huh, that’ll be the day! No, this kind of stuff is in the job description for us supervisors. I don’t think anything will change.” His private thoughts were otherwise.
“No, really. Haven’t they offered you anything?”
“A couple congratulatory phone calls. That’s all.”
“Doesn’t that piss you off?”
“Naw, not really. I like it here, and I’m getting close to retirement. Why go to Washington and deal with politicians?”
“Yeah, I hear you. I like it here in the bush too.”
“Even after capture by the bad guys?”
“Well, I’ll stay indoors for a while if they let me, but eventually, I want to get back out with the action.”
“It’s too bad you didn’t get to see Smugglers Pass from our side. Man, that was beautiful. They just drove right into the trap, and Bam! We got ‘em.”
“You put the whole thing together, right.”
“Yep. Well, there was a lot of help.”
“How’d you do it?”
Leo was in a bragging mood, “Well, I can’t talk about all of it, but we had some solid intel on this one. We got a spook friend, giving us stuff from the inside. He’s actually leading the damned cartel now, but that needs to stay secret.”
“Sure, I understand.”
Rachael
Rachael landed at Dulles at one o’clock, skipping lunch to get back to the office as quickly as she could. Cybil actually smiled and welcomed her back as Rachael sped past saying, “Hi Cybil, can you call the Director’s office, and see if I can come right down?”
“Oh, Rachael. Mr. Vitale is out of the country.”
All she could say was, “Damn. Do you know when he’s coming back?”
“His office sent a message that he would return on Monday.”
“All right.” Rachael tried another tact, “Cybil, maybe you can help me.”
“Sure, Rachael. What do you need?”
“Can you get me everything on Hector Cardenas, please? He’s a Mexican drug cartel leader. The cartel is named for his father, Alejandro Cardenas. They’re some bad people.”
&nbs
p; After a couple hours, Cybil sent Rachael an email with dozens of links about the Cardenas family and a biography on Hector from CIA internal files. All the links were to internal files that were only accessible inside the agency. There were volumes of information about the father, but almost nothing about the son. Hector was believed to have been educated outside Mexico, but there were no details or recent pictures. Feeling desperate to do something to help Jamie despite his fatal course, Rachael called Peter, “Hi, how about dinner at my place tonight?”
He was surprised and excited, “Sure, yeah, what can I bring?”
“Bring your brain, it’s business.”
“Oh, gee, how romantic!” He wasn’t entirely let down. At least, he would be near her.
“Good. Come at six. I’m starving and tired.”
“Okay. See you at your place at six!”
He could hardly contain his excitement. They had seen each other at least every other day for two weeks.
When he arrived, she was dressed in slacks with a Georgetown tee-shirt. Her hair was down and loose, and he could smell a mild perfume. He was dressed casually in jeans and a sport shirt, which accented his muscled frame. He had also showered and shaved, with a touch of cologne. It felt like a date.
She met him with a smile, but no hug, “Come on in. I bought some salmon that’s marinating. How about starting the grill?”
There was no business discussion for the next hour as they enjoyed