West of Laredo by Tom Armbruster (epub e reader txt) π
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First assignment: Nuevo Laredo, Mexico. The Mexican border town is awash in drug violence, intrigue, and temptation for a young American diplomat.
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to say.
"Syndi's always been the wild one. Trevor here just follows along. I'll take him home. You find Syndi and call us when you get her. I'll come get her."
"Yes ma'am." Lee hopes she is able to pick up her daughter alive someday and decides not to calculate the odds.
*47*
Early next morning Lee goes to the police station for a check on American tourists who've been robbed. The case will never be solved, but Lee takes the details and is as helpful as possible. On the way out a man stops her.
"Did you get my email?" He is wearing a t-shirt, jeans, a cowboy hat. He's a bit fat, and is chewing on a toothpick.
"What email?"
"Happy Fourth of July." The man smiles with the toothpick dangling.
"Yes, I got it, what do you want?" Lee is looking for places to run. The car is locked and 20 yards away. She's in a fairly public area, so she doesn't want to move. She runs through the options. Scream. Hit him and scream. Hear him out and leave open options one and two. She decides to listen. "I said what do you want?"
"I heard you. We want a little cooperation. You see these pictures. You and Usman. Nice. He's a nice boy. A nice Cuban boy with a long record of public service like you. But his service has been in Fidel's secret service. Now..."
"Now what? Now, fuck you, leave me alone!"
"You should think about it Rubia. We just want a few visas a week. You can do that. You can do that for six months, then off you go. To Paris or Rome or wherever you go. You'll never hear from me again. By the way, my name is Salvatore." He extends his hand. Lee doesn't take it, but looks daggers at him.
Lee is still calculating options. She decides on another option. She turns her back on Salvatore and walks to her car, not looking back. She puts the key in the door. Salvatore's hand wraps around hers and squeezes hard. He stares at her not saying a word, brings his face close enough that his features blur in Lee's vision, then he lets her hand go. Lee gets in, starts the motor and drives off. Shaking.
Back at the office Penny completes her "contact report" detailing her intimate relationship with Usman. Isola is already back on the job in the garden since she fired Usman. She is thinking about firing Isola too, but finds out that Isola did expect his cousin to work for him, until the company replaced his cousin with Usman. Isola never knew a thing, Lee is convinced.
*48*
From his 15th office in Rosslyn Tray Samuelson can see the Washington monument and watch the planes snake along the Potomac to Reagan National. He protects visiting heads of state, follows up on terrorist threats, investigates incoming officers, and today will learn about an officer on the Mexican border and ultimately decide her fate. Samuelson isn't looking at the monument or the planes. He's looking at photos of Lee Penny and a young man, said to be Cuban. Tray Samuelson picks up the phone and calls his lead agent for the Mexican border.
"Ed. Samuelson here. Good job on El Mecanico. Looks like case closed and he'll get a good three to five years. Should put the fear of God into Vice Consuls around the world. Listen, whatβs your gut feeling on Lee Penny? Have you read her contact report?"
"Yes sir."
βWell, answer my first question.β
βI think sheβs got to go.β
"Good. Iβm glad youβve got a firm recommendation. Her contact report is extremely late and it looks like Usman is in fact an intell officer, something like the male version of a honey trap the Soviets used to use. From what I gather, they hoped to compromise Penny before she arrived in Havana. She would be a great one to have in their pocket since her portfolio was going to include immigrant visas and more importantly humanitarian parole cases. Jehovah's Witnesses, people like that often get refugee status into the U.S. The Cubans would love to plant a few of their deep cover people through that program. I'm sure they try, but if they had one of our officers even influenced inside the U.S. Interests Section, they'd have a free ticket. I agree. We're probably going to have to pull the plug on this officer, but before we do I want you to follow her, do a little more bio work, see what you come up with. She's close to Sinclair, you might want to call him in, but keep it quiet until I tell you to bring her to DC for an interview. My gut feeling too is that she's got to go."
"I'll check her out further. I had a bad feeling about Penny. "
"Thanks Ed. I'll be out most of the week. My turn to sit on the anti-terror task force for the Western Hemisphere. I hope it stays quiet."
"When the hell has anything you've been associated with stayed quiet?"
"Good point. Stay safe on the border. Out."
*49*
The call comes at one something. Lee answers her cell, already sitting up. It's the prosecutor's office. Syndi Tompson is in downtown station, all Lee has to do is come downtown and collect her and drive her over the border once her testimony is through with the prosecutor's office. Lee is dressed and in her car in five minutes. As she drives she calls Sinclair.
"Can you come across? They're releasing Syndi. Downtown at the Procuracy."
Lee thinks to call the mom, but decides she needs to have Syndi in hand first.
She arrives at the Procuracy first. Syndi is still talking to an investigator. Lee shows her consular carnet and sits next to the young American. She doesn't look like a coke addict, just like a young kid."
"So you have no description of the men who held you? How is that?" The Prosecutor is speaking heavily accented English.
"I don't know, they were just regular guys, you know. Thirty or something. They were old!" Syndi's hands slide under her legs. Her eyes are unfocused. She shifts in her chair. Throws back her dirty blonde hair.
"I really need a cigarette." She looks pleadingly at the prosecutor. He nods toward the courtyard.
There Lee and Syndi lean over the railing, looking into the dark courtyard below. The building is typical old Spanish style with interior offices and a central courtyard below. In this case the courtyard serves as a parking lot.
"So," Syndi takes a deep drag, her fingers shaking. "They told me this afternoon what to say. "And," She looks around quickly, "and the guys that were holding me, they are the ones who are here. You'll see. It's the big one. He keeps checking on me. Everytime he walks in the room I jump. I think I'm going to pass out or something. I can't breathe when he comes in. His name is Pico."
"OK, take it easy," Lee says. Sinclair arrives up the steps.
"What's going on?"
"They fed her a line to tell the "investigator," and the gang members also known as Nuevo Laredo Police Officers are here intimidating her. They want to be sure she has nothing to say before crossing into the U.S. It's stupid. No one will be prosecuted anyway, so I don't know what the show is for. Obviously for our benefit. I'll put up with it a bit longer. Not much though." Lee nods toward the door, to signal to Syndi it's time to get on with it.
The questioning drags on. It's almost three a.m. and Lee is tired.
"So, the address where they held you, you don't know it. How is that?" The prosecutor cocks his head to the side.
Lee stands up.
"That's it. That's enough. Look, she's not a suspect, she's not under arrest. We're going. Let's go Syndi."
Lee grabs Syndi's arm and spins and leaves. Sinclair follows. They arrive in the courtyard. Sinclair says, "Let's take your car, it's got Consulate plates. I'll get mine later." They hop in the Suburban. Lee in the driver's seat, Sinclair shotgun and Syndi in the back. As Lee puts the car in gear the huge wooden doors from the courtyard to the street close. Ten policeman surround the car. No one pulls a gun yet, but guns and the threat are there. For two minutes no one says a word. Then a man in a black jumpsuit approaches the car. "Get out little girl." He taps the glass. Smiles. He keeps tapping. Lee sees he is tapping with a gun. On both sides of the car police are yelling at Lee and Sinclair to get out. Lee rolls down her window two inches. Enough to talk.
"You guys are violating the Vienna Convention. We have a right to consular access and you have no right to our vehicle."
"Just give us the girl. We'll take her across to the border. It's procedure. And we'll turn her over to
"Syndi's always been the wild one. Trevor here just follows along. I'll take him home. You find Syndi and call us when you get her. I'll come get her."
"Yes ma'am." Lee hopes she is able to pick up her daughter alive someday and decides not to calculate the odds.
*47*
Early next morning Lee goes to the police station for a check on American tourists who've been robbed. The case will never be solved, but Lee takes the details and is as helpful as possible. On the way out a man stops her.
"Did you get my email?" He is wearing a t-shirt, jeans, a cowboy hat. He's a bit fat, and is chewing on a toothpick.
"What email?"
"Happy Fourth of July." The man smiles with the toothpick dangling.
"Yes, I got it, what do you want?" Lee is looking for places to run. The car is locked and 20 yards away. She's in a fairly public area, so she doesn't want to move. She runs through the options. Scream. Hit him and scream. Hear him out and leave open options one and two. She decides to listen. "I said what do you want?"
"I heard you. We want a little cooperation. You see these pictures. You and Usman. Nice. He's a nice boy. A nice Cuban boy with a long record of public service like you. But his service has been in Fidel's secret service. Now..."
"Now what? Now, fuck you, leave me alone!"
"You should think about it Rubia. We just want a few visas a week. You can do that. You can do that for six months, then off you go. To Paris or Rome or wherever you go. You'll never hear from me again. By the way, my name is Salvatore." He extends his hand. Lee doesn't take it, but looks daggers at him.
Lee is still calculating options. She decides on another option. She turns her back on Salvatore and walks to her car, not looking back. She puts the key in the door. Salvatore's hand wraps around hers and squeezes hard. He stares at her not saying a word, brings his face close enough that his features blur in Lee's vision, then he lets her hand go. Lee gets in, starts the motor and drives off. Shaking.
Back at the office Penny completes her "contact report" detailing her intimate relationship with Usman. Isola is already back on the job in the garden since she fired Usman. She is thinking about firing Isola too, but finds out that Isola did expect his cousin to work for him, until the company replaced his cousin with Usman. Isola never knew a thing, Lee is convinced.
*48*
From his 15th office in Rosslyn Tray Samuelson can see the Washington monument and watch the planes snake along the Potomac to Reagan National. He protects visiting heads of state, follows up on terrorist threats, investigates incoming officers, and today will learn about an officer on the Mexican border and ultimately decide her fate. Samuelson isn't looking at the monument or the planes. He's looking at photos of Lee Penny and a young man, said to be Cuban. Tray Samuelson picks up the phone and calls his lead agent for the Mexican border.
"Ed. Samuelson here. Good job on El Mecanico. Looks like case closed and he'll get a good three to five years. Should put the fear of God into Vice Consuls around the world. Listen, whatβs your gut feeling on Lee Penny? Have you read her contact report?"
"Yes sir."
βWell, answer my first question.β
βI think sheβs got to go.β
"Good. Iβm glad youβve got a firm recommendation. Her contact report is extremely late and it looks like Usman is in fact an intell officer, something like the male version of a honey trap the Soviets used to use. From what I gather, they hoped to compromise Penny before she arrived in Havana. She would be a great one to have in their pocket since her portfolio was going to include immigrant visas and more importantly humanitarian parole cases. Jehovah's Witnesses, people like that often get refugee status into the U.S. The Cubans would love to plant a few of their deep cover people through that program. I'm sure they try, but if they had one of our officers even influenced inside the U.S. Interests Section, they'd have a free ticket. I agree. We're probably going to have to pull the plug on this officer, but before we do I want you to follow her, do a little more bio work, see what you come up with. She's close to Sinclair, you might want to call him in, but keep it quiet until I tell you to bring her to DC for an interview. My gut feeling too is that she's got to go."
"I'll check her out further. I had a bad feeling about Penny. "
"Thanks Ed. I'll be out most of the week. My turn to sit on the anti-terror task force for the Western Hemisphere. I hope it stays quiet."
"When the hell has anything you've been associated with stayed quiet?"
"Good point. Stay safe on the border. Out."
*49*
The call comes at one something. Lee answers her cell, already sitting up. It's the prosecutor's office. Syndi Tompson is in downtown station, all Lee has to do is come downtown and collect her and drive her over the border once her testimony is through with the prosecutor's office. Lee is dressed and in her car in five minutes. As she drives she calls Sinclair.
"Can you come across? They're releasing Syndi. Downtown at the Procuracy."
Lee thinks to call the mom, but decides she needs to have Syndi in hand first.
She arrives at the Procuracy first. Syndi is still talking to an investigator. Lee shows her consular carnet and sits next to the young American. She doesn't look like a coke addict, just like a young kid."
"So you have no description of the men who held you? How is that?" The Prosecutor is speaking heavily accented English.
"I don't know, they were just regular guys, you know. Thirty or something. They were old!" Syndi's hands slide under her legs. Her eyes are unfocused. She shifts in her chair. Throws back her dirty blonde hair.
"I really need a cigarette." She looks pleadingly at the prosecutor. He nods toward the courtyard.
There Lee and Syndi lean over the railing, looking into the dark courtyard below. The building is typical old Spanish style with interior offices and a central courtyard below. In this case the courtyard serves as a parking lot.
"So," Syndi takes a deep drag, her fingers shaking. "They told me this afternoon what to say. "And," She looks around quickly, "and the guys that were holding me, they are the ones who are here. You'll see. It's the big one. He keeps checking on me. Everytime he walks in the room I jump. I think I'm going to pass out or something. I can't breathe when he comes in. His name is Pico."
"OK, take it easy," Lee says. Sinclair arrives up the steps.
"What's going on?"
"They fed her a line to tell the "investigator," and the gang members also known as Nuevo Laredo Police Officers are here intimidating her. They want to be sure she has nothing to say before crossing into the U.S. It's stupid. No one will be prosecuted anyway, so I don't know what the show is for. Obviously for our benefit. I'll put up with it a bit longer. Not much though." Lee nods toward the door, to signal to Syndi it's time to get on with it.
The questioning drags on. It's almost three a.m. and Lee is tired.
"So, the address where they held you, you don't know it. How is that?" The prosecutor cocks his head to the side.
Lee stands up.
"That's it. That's enough. Look, she's not a suspect, she's not under arrest. We're going. Let's go Syndi."
Lee grabs Syndi's arm and spins and leaves. Sinclair follows. They arrive in the courtyard. Sinclair says, "Let's take your car, it's got Consulate plates. I'll get mine later." They hop in the Suburban. Lee in the driver's seat, Sinclair shotgun and Syndi in the back. As Lee puts the car in gear the huge wooden doors from the courtyard to the street close. Ten policeman surround the car. No one pulls a gun yet, but guns and the threat are there. For two minutes no one says a word. Then a man in a black jumpsuit approaches the car. "Get out little girl." He taps the glass. Smiles. He keeps tapping. Lee sees he is tapping with a gun. On both sides of the car police are yelling at Lee and Sinclair to get out. Lee rolls down her window two inches. Enough to talk.
"You guys are violating the Vienna Convention. We have a right to consular access and you have no right to our vehicle."
"Just give us the girl. We'll take her across to the border. It's procedure. And we'll turn her over to
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