Borderlands (Mitch Kearns Combat Tracker Series Book 6) Page 9

  “First, I want to thank each of you men for being here—for the sacrifices you’ve made in leaving home to be on this perilous border keeping our country safe.”

  He held his chin up then removed his sunglasses and glanced around at each man in the circle. “I am but one agent responsible for covering twenty-one square miles. I’ve been at it a long time and there’s still country out here I haven’t seen before. Now, you take the cartels who live for months in the canyons around here—they probably know their home turf about as well as the Apaches did back in the day.”

  Tony waved his hand out at the mesa to the right. “The Culebra cartel has over two hundred surveillance teams in southern Arizona alone. The dope runners pass their goods to one team who then move it to another in a chain extending north beyond Tucson. Each of the groups are provisioned by the resupply teams who drive around in Z71 pickup trucks loaded with water, food, ammo, batteries for the radios, and spare parts for the vehicles. All of these teams have two-way radios with rolling encryption that rivals what the Navy SEALs have, if you can believe that.”

  He shook his head and then spit on the ground. “It’s just fucking unbelievable how well-equipped and organized these guys are—they’re a highly efficient tactical business operation right down to the man on the ground living in a hooch eating canned food for weeks on end. The surveillance guys have night-vision goggles, collapsible solar panels, and water purification systems, so they can live rough for extended periods if necessary. Some of these guys are ex-military while others are just dudes who grew up in the desert helping their old man smuggle people across the border before the cartels stepped in.”

  Tony licked his lower lip. “Make no mistake, they are very smart, well-supplied, and adapted to hardship but that’s where you guys come in. You are the new eyes and ears of our country—a force multiplier that can key us into cartel movements.” He moved closer to Bagley, scanning the welt on his face. “You have to be some tough hombres yourselves just being out in this terrain, and for that my hat goes off to you. It’s patriots like you that have always kept this country safe through the generations, though your contributions will never be acknowledged by the media or our government, but by the other men in the shadows like myself.”

  When Tony finished he stood in silence for a moment then asked if anyone had questions. Bagley’s arm shot straight up as he leaned forward in his chair. A vein in the militia member’s neck was pulsing outward and he felt like he had tapped into a surging river of omniscience about the borderlands.

  “Are the cartels operating solely on their own when they’re over here or do they have help from left-leaning sympathizers? For instance, I’ve heard stories about college kids from Tucson leaving out water stations for illegals.”

  Tony nodded his head slowly. “I know what you’re referring to about the university kids. That used to go on prior to the economy crashing in ’08, when there were more immigrants crossing over to look for work and we had record numbers of dehydration deaths in the summer. That’s pretty much dropped off. The cartels and bandits are the main illegals you’ll run into these days.” Tony gazed up at a passing raven that held a small snake in its beak. “Now, I do know for a fact that there are some retirees living in the desert, some in their RVs, who get a stack of bills each month and a burner phone to call into the cartels about any movement of law-enforcement through the area. Hell, we busted one old-timer out of Ohio who was living here in the winters and would call in anytime he spotted a new trailcam we’d put up. Said he was prospecting but I never met any kind of prospector who had a thick roll of Benjamins in his pocket along with an encrypted flip-phone.”

  A stout man with a salt-and-pepper beard spoke out. “Why aren’t the border patrol and the DEA able to squash these guys before they get so far into our country? No offense intended to you, sir, but I mean, how is it that these guys have supply lines running all the way to the south edge of Phoenix?”

  “The cartels have too many eyes out on the land here,” Tony said. “They know our response time and how long it takes to get a unit from one place to another. They know our shift changes and that we have fewer agents out on weekends due to budget constraints.” He scowled at the last word then let out a deep exhale. “And if they do see us coming, they simply radio their scouts, who relocate their team down a remote canyon and then camouflage their trucks while holing up for a few days until the region is clear.”

  Bagley dug a wedge-shaped hole in the sand with the tip of his boot then shoved a small pebble into it while continuing to absorb every sentence that glided off the agent’s lips. Now he finally knew the larger picture of what they were up against and he felt a new sense of urgency spilling into his veins. Somebody has to put a stop to this madness—the politicians won’t so it has to be us. With each word, he felt emboldened to push forward and knew he could make a difference if he could just catch some illegals in his crosshairs.

  “So this is a simple numbers game,” said Bagley in a deep voice that he found surprising. “There are too few of you guys and too many of these bastards who have seemingly unlimited resources helping them to keep moving their products north.”

  “Pretty much, but—” He paused and glanced around the circle while narrowing his eyes. “That’s why I’m here talking to you. You guys can be the tip of the spear—a spear that we are in desperate need of to stem the tide of illegal drugs getting into the hands of our kids, our schools, and our communities back home.”

  He looked at his watch. “Now, I’ve gotta head out but I’m going to leave some coordinates with your C.O. here of where we can use your boots on the ground. Word has it that there’s going to be a major push forward by one arm of the cartel in a wilderness region southeast of here and we need your help, gentlemen. If this goes down the way I’m hoping it does, then this will be a major victory for us all. God bless you for the work you’re doing.”

  Bagley was clutching the edge of his chair, his pulse racing as he heard those lofty sentences float forth from the agent. For a moment, he even forgot about the sting of his cheek and the searing heat. He felt like a dormant sword that had finally been liberated from its constricting sheath and was ready to test its mettle.

  ***

  Driving away from the militia encampment, Tony stopped at the first bend in the road to check his muted iPhone, which had been vibrating constantly during the end of his lecture.

  Glancing at the screen, his eyes widened in delight as he saw it was from Mateo again. Tony read the message requesting his immediate help at a nearby ranch. There was mention of a computer hard drive that was supposed to be located in the upstairs bedroom of the main house but there wasn’t any explanation about its intended use. Tony typed in his reply enthusiastically then he reread the initial message, which ended in exclamation points.

  “Madre de Dios—what kind of shit-show are you involved with now, Mateo? Hell, who cares—as long as the trail leads me to the missing dineros.” He tossed the phone on the seat beside him then realized he still needed to retrieve his new partner in Tombstone. Tony rubbed his chin while feeling the pressure on his chest ease. He rolled down his window partway, taking in a deep breath of the dry air. Rain in the air, he thought—not likely, he added as he looked up at the blue sky. Smells like money.

  Chapter 17

  While Walt and Nora were inside the house with Amy and the rest of the family, Mitch and Dev stood under the shade of the front porch. Dev’s call to the sheriff’s department had gotten out and they were told to stay put until Cochise County deputies arrived. Given their remoteness and the lack of officers in the county, Mitch knew it would be close to two hours before anyone arrived. Once it was confirmed it was cartel involvement, the sheriff’s department would contact the border patrol, who would send their own forensic teams to the crime scene followed by federal officers going into the field to try and pick up the trail. This all assumed that the border patrol had agents they could spare out of the Tucson office, anot
her ninety-minute drive away.

  Mitch kept asking himself why Steven Jacobs had been the target, but he hadn’t seen the man in years and didn’t know much about him. Is he involved with the cartel somehow or is this a kidnapping and ransom case?

  “I’d sure like to get back to that crime scene and see where those vehicle tracks went,” said Mitch, glancing over his shoulder at the scene of the family inside through the white lace curtains. “It’d be good to get on that trail before the road gets overrun with other trucks.”

  “Where do you think they’re taking Amy’s father?” said Dev.

  Mitch rubbed his whiskered chin and looked up at a single cumulus cloud to the south. “Either to a safehouse in Tucson or some hideout in the foothills around here. Steven’s father Walt said that he had a silver briefcase with him—I didn’t see that in the truck so that must figure into this.”

  “They wouldn’t be making for the border?”

  Mitch canted his head and gave Dev a sideways glance. “It’s possible, but the cartel guys are too smart for that—they know if they cross the border that will turn this from a local kidnapping case into an international incident involving a federal employee. I doubt they would be that careless—it’d be bad for business.”

  Dev moved closer to Mitch, resting her hands on the weathered railing and pressing against his shoulder. “So, what’s the story between you and Ms. Friendly? Nora sure looked like she had daggers in her eyes when she saw you.”

  Mitch pressed his tongue into the side of his cheek then smirked. “A bit of high school history there between us, you could say.”

  She grinned and nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. “Oh my, why, Mitch Kearns—is this one of your old girlfriends?”

  He lowered his head and sighed. “My first, actually—Nora and I grew up together; knew each other since we were kids.” He tapped his boot against a loose plankboard whose end kept popping up, causing him to drive it back down. “Even saved my allowance for months to buy her a nice cowboy hat.”

  “By her looks, I’d say you had a falling out.”

  “Nothing gets by you, eh.”

  “It didn’t take a lot of people-reading skills to see there was a storm brewing behind her eyes, and I don’t think it was all connected to her brother.”

  Mitch stood up, folding his arms across his chest. “Yeah, maybe breaking up with her a week before the prom wasn’t such a great idea.”

  Dev raised her eyebrows and smacked his shoulder. “You did what? Oh, my Lord, what were you thinking?”

  “Come on—you can’t side with her. You don’t even know the whole story. I was gonna be leavin’ for the army that summer. And she was…” He looked back to make sure the front door was closed. “She was gettin’ too caught up in the whole skipping down the street holding hands thing.”

  “Ooh, sounds like she was smitten with you. Ditching her at prom and breaking her heart all in one day—that’s rough. I wouldn’t forgive you either.” Dev raised her hands in air quotes while smiling. “‘I’m leaving for the army; see you later, baby.’”

  “Haha—that’s funny coming from you, given how you were when we first met. Ms. ‘I don’t know if I can be with you because my work comes first.’”

  Dev stepped back, thrusting her hands onto her hips and frowning. “Don’t turn this around on me. Besides, that’s bullshit and you know it. I always made time for you when I could.”

  “You’re right. You’re right. I’m just pissed because this is not how I wanted this day to go.” He rubbed his fingers against his forehead then glanced up at the eaves of the house. “And how in God’s name I am standing here at the Jacobs’ place?”

  They heard the front door open abruptly and smack against the exterior wall. Nora was storming out, her cracked leather boots pounding on the planks. In her left hand was a scoped 30/30 rifle and the other held a bulging daypack with a pair of two-way radios attached to the side.

  “We ain’t got time for pleasantries, Mitch. And I’m not even sure I’d be so inclined if we did, but right now I need you to take me back to where you found Amy and my brother’s truck.”

  “The sheriff’s department told us to stay put. Plus that’s gonna be their crime scene and they won’t take kindly to us…”

  She brushed past him, shaking her head. “Then I’m goin’ alone, it seems.” Nora shot a glare over her shoulder. “Parsons Springs area, you said, right?”

  Mitch rolled his eyes then nodded at Dev. “Mind staying here for when the cops arrive? I’ll be back shortly.”

  Dev raised her eyebrows and waved her hand for him to go. Mitch wasn’t sure if she was simply being compliant or if there was a hint of irritation to her gesture. He suspected it was the latter due to his earlier comment.

  “Hop in,” Mitch said as he headed to the jeep. “It’ll only take us about twenty minutes.”

  “I know how far it is from here—probably better than you,” she said, flinging her pack in the back seat and then sitting down with the rifle resting against her shoulder. “If it weren’t for all of our cowboys being gone this weekend at a rodeo in Wickenburg, I’d have more help.” She gave him a once-over as he backed up the vehicle. “You’ll have to do, I reckon.”

  Mitch ground his teeth and forcefully shoved the stick-shift in first gear as they sped off down the dirt road towards the mesa ahead.

  Chapter 18

  Fifteen minutes after Mitch and Nora had departed, Tony and his partner Alex pulled into the Jacobs ranch. Dev was sitting on the porch and shot upright as the two agents exited their rig.

  After hasty introductions, Tony scribbled a few notes about Dev and Mitch in his small notebook as he listened intently to her story about what unfolded. Tony tried to act interested but rattled off his questions in a monotone voice. He was more intent on questioning Jacobs’ daughter and hoped she was upstairs where the hard drive component was supposed to be located. He kept peering around the grounds to see where the rest of the family was at and, out of habit, examining the escape routes.

  “So, you guys are with the DEA,” said Dev. “I originally spoke with the sheriff’s department—how did you get wind of this and get over here so fast?”

  Tony gave her an irritated look. “They gave us a jingle since they said it was possibly cartel-related. And now, from what you’ve said, it sounds like that’s the case.”

  Dev scrunched her eyebrows together. “Hmm, that’s odd. I never mentioned that to them.”

  Tony stopped writing and patted his gold pen against his chest. “Devorah—wasn’t that your name?” He paused and glanced back at his notebook. “Devorah Leitner—who are you and how are you connected with the family?”

  “No connection—I’m here on vacation and my friend and I, the fellow I mentioned earlier, were just sightseeing when we came across the wreck.”

  “Sightseeing, eh?” He craned his head up at the distant mesa. “This ain’t exactly country most tourists end up in after leaving their air-conditioned hotel in Tucson.”

  “We’re staying nearby.”

  “Desert Airbnb or something?” he said coyly.

  “You could say that.”

  Her vague answers were annoying him further. She’s pretty calm given she came across a dead body and a kidnapping crime scene. She’s smooth-talked a cop or two before and about more than just a speeding ticket. What the hell is her deal?

  He returned his notebook to his back pocket and made his way to the porch. “I’d like to speak with the little girl now.”

  “She’s pretty shook up.”

  “Imagine so.” He pointed to a rocking chair near the door. “Ah, you can wait here, Ms. Leitner. I will get back with you if I need anything further.”

  She raised an eyebrow, her lips tightening. “Sure.”

  He gave a partial knock on the door and then began to enter. “Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs, Tony Diaz with the DEA.”

  Walt Jacobs hobbled to meet him and shook the hands of both age
nts then motioned for them to come into the kitchen at the back of the house.

  ***

  When the agents had gone inside, Dev casually strolled off the front porch and made her way around the side of the house. She stood behind a large propane tank which was situated under the groomed branches of an elm tree, within earshot of the conversation unfolding inside.

  She was struck by the odd nature of the older agent’s questions. They seemed beyond intrusive. Did Amy have any health issues? Was she on any medications? How many other family members were at home? What were their ages? Any staff on site? Was the main road in the only egress route? Dev also heard the senior agent indicate he wanted to record the interview with Amy. What the hell kind of Q & A is this?

  It sounded more like a tactical assessment than a debriefing of a crime victim. Something is off. And how did he get here so quickly if he was out of the Tucson office? In his plain clothes and with that unmarked vehicle, he’s not a standard field agent so he must be some kind of covert ops. When the conversation trickled off inside, she snuck back around the front and resumed sitting on the rocking chair. Dev leaned back and peered in through the slightly ajar door at a small table against the wall where the other two-way radios were sitting in their wall chargers. Need to contact Mitch.

  Ten minutes later, Dev abruptly swung her head back around at the sight of Diaz approaching as he exited the front door.

  He plunked down in the seat beside her, his barrel chest nearly filling the entire chair. “Well, looks like we gotta wait around a little bit to talk some more with the girl. She was getting pretty withdrawn after a few minutes of questions and her grandparents were insistent on leaving her be.” He leaned forward, resting his meaty arms on his knees and eyeballing her. “So, why don’t we pick up where you and I left off a little bit ago?”

  “You mean the part about you throwing your weight around.”

  His head pulled back and he licked his lower lip. “You’re definitely not from around here. And with that slight accent, I’d say not even from the US, though you could pass for a spic with your looks.”