Chapter 04

More Real Trouble

The weekend before Christmas I’m heading to the Santa Ana Star Casino with Paul, Cadi, Bron, Mary, Peg, Bradley, and Peter for some fun and frolic at the resort while Paul and I gamble. Because of the size of the party I’m driving a hired mini-bus.

For the first time in several weeks I notice we’re being followed again. I warn everyone and I also warn them to run for their lives if anyone in dark suits approaches them. Bron gets out her cell phone to call Matt, telling him where we are, where we’re going, and what’s going on. He promises to send us support.

Due to my expectations about the DHS grabbing me again I’m not armed but Bron and Cadi are, and so is Paul.

When we reach the casino car park I notice a number of the vans I saw at the DHS underground parking garage on my last visit. Instead of parking I keep rolling to power through the car park to head out onto the street again. Catching most of them still parked while they’re getting out of the vehicles to grab me on foot. If they want me this time they can chase me. Bron updates Matt with what’s happening.

I head down the road at the maximum legal speed. Keeping at the speed limit I push the mini-bus to its limits when I slide around corners with the DHS cars chasing us as I head to a nearby mall. While I drive I say, “When I stop outside the mall I want you girls to race like the wind into the mall to get lost so those scum can’t catch you. Boys, hold together to run interference until the girls get out of sight, if you can, then split up to the four winds. Hopefully, they’ll follow me in the mini-bus since they know I’m driving. Good luck.” They all nod agreement while they get ready to jump out of the mini-bus.

A few minutes later I stop as close as I can get to the main entrance of the mall: I can’t get any closer because there’s a lot of people about. They all bail out and the girls run for the entrance. The boys form a block behind the girls. I burn rubber getting out of there. When I make a turn at the end of the row I see I made a mistake as this time they’re after us all.

One sedan drives across the footpath to block the girls and two men jump out with guns while another car does the same behind the boys. Two more cars are seeking to cut me off.

I toss glances at the entrance while I weave through the car park. When I look over I send a prayer of thanks for the extra training Matt gave us. When they see the guns Bron and Cadi drop to their knees to pull out their own guns. No messing about at all as they both take quick aim and shoot the armed men in front of them then they turn and shoot the two behind them by shooting past the boys. They’re all are good solid high percentage centre of body mass in the guts shots. The four are down and the girls are off like Olympic runners with the boys splitting up in all directions. The people at the mall entrance add to the confusion by screaming and running in all directions when they hear the gunfire.

The mini-bus gets hit by one of the cars trying to cut me off while I charge for the gap they’re closing. I just scrape through and I hear a loud crash when the car behind me doesn’t. Yeah team, let’s see those arse holes hide this one from the media and the public. I’m heading for the exit when I hear sirens coming from all directions while a DHS car tries to beat me to the exit I’m heading for.

Nearing the exit I put the mini-bus into a controlled slide to hit the DHS car just as it turns into the exit. Side to side we hit together, but my heavier vehicle with the greater momentum has no trouble in pushing their sedan into the parked cars, then I’m going out of the car park at the maximum legal speed.

I head away from the casino because there’s a lot of unaccounted for DHS cars that have to be still heading this way from the casino. I pass several police cars and a couple of ambulances going the other way while I drive down the road. I get a few stares from the police, probably due to the damage on the vehicle, but since I’m not speeding away they keep heading to the trouble. They must think the damage isn’t related to their call.

I laugh when I see one of the DHS cars speeding down the road get pulled over by the police. It looks like we may get out of this without too much trouble.

Damn, two DHS vans pull out of a side street to block the road with a third stopping behind them in a two layer blockage. Well, screw the lot of them. With a huge grin I put my foot down to accelerate as much as I can before I slam into the middle of the line. Thus all three vans get wrecked: the back of the front one, the front of the back one, and the side of the middle one. I hear a scream of metal and the air bag explodes in my face just before I pass out.

Pure Cadi

I get real worried when Ani tells me about the tail. When we pull into the casino car park I see so many of the DHS vans I just know they want all of us. I smile when Ani is so quick to pull out, driving off fast while giving us orders to vanish. While he drives down the road I check my gun while Bron calls Matt again, then Ani’s lawyer, and Mum. Bron is also checking her gun while she talks on the phone in hands free mode.

Heck, we’re only doing the legal limit but it sure feels like we’re speeding because Ani pushes the mini-bus around corners at the maximum safe speed. I take off my seat belt and open the door, ready to leave when Ani stops. The bus screeches to a halt and I jump out, hitting the ground running, Bron is soon by my side with Mary and Peg coming up alongside her while we run to the entrance four abreast.

A car skids across the path about fifteen metres in front of us and two men jump out. I can hear another car jump the gutter behind us just as the two men in front pull out guns. I remember what Captain Matt taught us and I yell, “Bellies Bron,” while I draw my gun to shoot the gunman in the stomach without any hesitation and Bron fires too. In the split second I take to aim I can see the man hesitate, and I understand what the Captain said when he told us to be mentally ready to fire before we reach for the gun. Having dealt with the threat in front I call, “Behind us,” and spin around to check it’s clear.

In the time between my head and my body coming around I can see the boys to my left with two men at a car behind and a little to my right of the boys as the men are drawing guns. Aiming for another belly I fire again, and I hear an instant echo when Bron fires too. Good shooting, if I do say so myself: two rounds each and two scumbags down each. I send Captain Matt a mental thank you. We both instinctively followed his training of: go for the bad guy on your side.

I smile when Bron shouts, “Boys, scatter. Girls, follow me.” We slip our guns away while we charge for the mall entrance. No special sale has ever made us run to a mall as fast as this. We race around the car and the wounded men between us and the mall entrance.

In the mall we sprint down the main access and up the escalator to the next level. When we dart to the side Bron says, “We need to get out the side or a back entrance.”

I tell her, “No, Bron. They’ll flood the area with people expecting us to do that. We need to get arrested by the State Police so they can take us out of here to their station.”

Bron turns and gives me a huge smile, “Smart thinking, Sis.”

Seeing the food court I wave us over to that. We slow down to look over who’s there while we get something light to eat. I smile when I see two State Police officers listening to their hand held radio while they walk into and through the court from a rear entrance. They’re crossing the floor at a fast walk.

I head toward them with the others following. We block their path and one says, “Excuse me, girls, but we urgently need to reach the front of the mall.”

I smile as I say, “No, actually, you urgently need to provide us with armed security by arresting us for leaving the scene of an incident.” They stop to look at us. I get out my concealed carry licence to show it to them before showing them the gun. “My sister and I are licensed and armed. Some men tried to kidnap us out the front when our brother dropped us off. He’d hoped they’d follow him, but some of them stopped to chase us. When they pulled out guns we shot them and ran away before more of them could arrive. These other two girls are our accomplices and should be arrested too. You should also tell Captain Joules you’ve caught us and are keeping us in your custody.” They both look a bit shocked.

One gives a sudden smile and says, “Ladies, you’re all under arrest for the misuse of firearms in a public place. Come with me.” The other is talking on the radio while they turn around to lead us out the back entrance to their State Police car. I think it’s funny as we’re under arrest for misuse of a firearm, they know we’re armed, but they don’t take the guns from us. We four get in the back seat of their cruiser and they lock the doors before getting in the front seats.

They drive around the front, and it’s really chaotic there. Police cars are everywhere, ambulances, and men in dark suits with frowns. They stop to talk to another State Police officer. When one of the men in suits spots us he walks over to flash a badge while he demands the police hand us over. The senior officer in the car smiles at him and says, “These girls are my prisoners. When I’ve finished processing them you can lodge for a change of jurisdiction and sign for them. But not until then.” The suit starts to argue, so the State Police officer just drives off.

I smile when we drive out because I can see the boys getting in a taxi. We wave while we go by, and they wave back. When we pull out into the street I look down the road and I can see the mini-bus in a multi-car accident with ambulances near it. I ask, “Any news about that?”

The officer driving says, “Witnesses say the vans came out of the side street to deliberately block the road on the mini-bus. The bus saw them and accelerated into the vans to cause the crash. Another van pulled up and they dragged the driver of the bus out while others checked the men in the vans. The fourth van drove off while two men started to aid those hurt in the vans. Five going to hospital out of that lot. And the four you shot are off to intensive care. From what I hear they were damn fine shots. While they were entering the car park some of the City Police saw you shoot the men. Anyway, we’re off to the Albuquerque State Police Headquarters, and not the local station like those guys think. We’ll drive that way to encourage their thinking we’re off to the local station.” At the headquarters we meet Captain Matt and we tell him all about the events of today.

Santa Fe: Fellows

I enter the DHS State Headquarters office of Regional Director Johnson and say, “What the f•©k is Max doing down there? The reports are four in intensive care with gunshot wounds to the stomach, they’ll live but will likely get a medical retirement, seven more in hospital from car accidents are likely to be laid up for two or three weeks, and six vehicles to be written off due to car accidents. The media and local cops are all over it. Also, it seems we only got the boy again and none of the others we can use as leverage on him. How long do you think before they turn up with another federal warrant for him?”

Johnson says, “Cool it, John, I don’t think they can name us to issue another warrant this time because they’ve no evidence we got him, just that the DHS tried to get him. We can sweat him for weeks now because there’s evidence neither Senior Officer Fellows or Regional Director Johnson were in the city when it happened. We’re both in the clear on this and they don’t know, for sure, who has him.”

“I don’t know. I’m already hearing the Governor will be looking into this and the Director is already asking questions about it. Oh hell, the damage is done. Let’s quickly get what we want from him and dump him.”

A few hours later a van arrives and the prisoner is placed in cell two after being checked by a doctor. The doctor tells me, “You won’t be able to talk to him for about twelve to twenty-four hours. He’s got a mild concussion, and that prolongs the effect of the drugs given him to keep him quiet. Heck, if the concussion is worse than I think he may be in a coma for days or weeks.” The information isn’t well received by me or those I have to pass it on to.

Langley, Virginia

I’m in my office with a middle aged man talking about our work when the phone rings. I answer it, then I switch to the conference phone on the table between us. A voice says, “I’ll keep it short. Subject taken by DHS to Santa Fe. How they got him is on the news. They screwed up real bad, so they must want him real bad. Call me with orders.”

I hang up the phone then I go to a cabinet, opening it up to reveal a television set, turning it on I flick across the news channels. They all have the story of a major cluster f•©k in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

After watching it for several minutes the other man picks up the phone to call a number. When it’s answered he says, “DHS Santa Fe office, set up conversation starters. I’m going calling.” After hanging up he turns to me, “Can you have someone ready to visit them with me, please? I think I need to talk to them very strongly.” I nod yes. “Thanks, Mate. I need to see this is sorted out before I take on any more work.” Another nod. Standing, he turns, and leaves with a steady pace that eats up the ground. While he walks down the hall I look at my title on the door, I’ve often looked at that and thought about the power it represents. Today I wonder if it does represent any power at all because one of my best workers just told me what he’s going to do and what I’m doing to help him, regardless of how I feel about it. All of a sudden the position of Director of the CIA doesn’t seem so powerful.

I pick up a phone to make a call, passing on his orders. Walking out of my office I tell my personal assistant who’s waiting for me, “What the hell did those DHS idiots think they were doing messing with his family! We’ll be lucky if we can contain this at all.” We both shake our heads, and then we move to the many other things we need to deal with today.

Black in Santa Fe

At twenty-five minutes past ten the day after the car chase near the Santa Ana Star Casino I walk in the DHS Headquarters in Santa Fe with an average looking man. I’m of average height and of a thin build while he’s just below average height and thick set, solid looking. We’re both in neat business dress, wearing sunglasses, and with briefcases: we look like typical federal bureaucrats except for the way he walks across the floor as he seems to glide like a great cat prowling for his next meal.

We approach the security desk and I say, “Jason Black, I’ve a ten thirty appointment with Regional Director Johnson. Please call him and tell him we’re here to talk to him. He can either approve us to enter the building without being searched while armed or he can talk to us here in the lobby. It won’t take long.” The guard makes a call, he listens, and he waves for us to take seats.

A few minutes later Regional Director Johnson walks out to shake hands with me. I say, “Director Johnson, my role today is to introduce you to this man, Derfel Evans, then to make sure you know he means exactly what he says and he can do whatever he says he wants to do. I’m here as the direct representative of the Director of the CIA and we’re acting only as a means for you two to make contact.” I sit down and Johnson looks a bit worried. I see the name Evans isn’t lost on him.

Derfel says, “Johnson, I know you have my cousin, Anian Cartier Evans, in your custody at the moment.” Opening up the briefcase he takes out photos of Anian being removed from the mini-bus and being put in a van, they’re time stamped. So are the photos of the van on the road and it entering the DHS building in Santa Fe. “My people saw you take him and followed his move to here. Now I want him back because I regard him as my heir, he’s like a son to me. I also want you to leave him alone from now on. You’ll leave all of my family members and all of their friends alone from now on.”

Johnson is sweating while he tries to work out exactly what this man represents and why we in the CIA are helping him. He says, “A young man was brought in yesterday but he was released during the night.”

Derfel takes out a phone to make a call, “Control, mobile lead. Status.” We listen to a person say, ’Still inside’ as all three of us can hear the statement. He opens the briefcase to take out more photos, several of Johnson, some of Fellows, some of Max Ball, and some of the other agents in this with him. Each photo is a head shot with a time stamp within the last forty-eight hours, and each shows a sniper’s cross-hairs on the temple of the person in the photo. “When I or my people next have to look closely at you or these people it won’t be to take photos. Give me my cousin and keep away from him and his family.”

Johnson gulps and says, “I told you, he left.”

Derfel says into the phone, “Control, demonstration, your choice, no harm to people, but make it costly.” We sit there, waiting. A moment later we hear a distant muffled bang like noise and alarms ring.

A security guard checks his board and he says, “Shit! Harry, get the fire service. One of the vans exploded in level three car park and it took a dozen other departmental cars with it.” Johnson sits there, sweating.

After another short wait Derfel says, “Hit his office.”

Johnson looks up at Derfel. A moment later the phone rings and a guard answers it, he looks up while calling out, “Director Johnson, someone just shot out your main window, your computer monitor, your chair, and most of your bookcase.” Johnson waves acknowledgement.

“Johnson, so far you’ve only irritated me. You don’t want to piss me off. Now, do you want a live demonstration of an urban assault on this building by a company of special forces troops, or do I get Anian?”

A very shocked Johnson takes out his cell phone to make a phone call. A few minutes later two agents carry out a Stokes stretcher with Anian Evans in it. They place it on the floor near us. Derfel stands and makes a hand signal. In a moment a school bus roars up to stop in front of the building and two squads of combat troops enter. They cover everyone while medics go to the stretcher. They examine the boy, one looks up, and says, “Mild concussion with a slight drug induced coma. He should recover OK, Colonel.” Johnson gulps at the mention of rank while he looks at the soldiers. They’ve no shoulder patches on so he doesn’t know what unit they come from.