West of Laredo by Tom Armbruster (novel24 .txt) 📖

right."

"Can you fix this?" The man hands over a passport and application.

"I think so." Miguel asks routine questions. Finally he says, "Your application is pending. I go to lunch at 1:30. You'll find out after that."

The man turns and leaves.

Miguel goes to lunch at 1:30 at the corner restaurant. The man with the cowboy hat sits next to him and slides him a magazine. "I think you'll like the sports story." He stands.

Miguel opens the magazine just enough to see the heft of the bills.

"I think your case will be resolved favorably." Miguel says.

That afternoon, Miguel is pulled into Secondary by the DHS agents. They confiscate his car. They take the magazine. And two agents from Diplomatic Security, including Ed Ballistrade in the Cowboy hat, arrest him and take him downtown. El Mecanico is done.


*42*


While Ed was taking down Miguel, I had the other half of the operation, locking down the Consulate and interviewing every single officer, staffer, and cleaning lady. We worked it out with the Consul General, at that point our relations were cordial. Farrington let us use the vault for our weapons. We were locked and loaded and ready for anything, because the border is pretty rough. So, I got about 10 agents doing interviews, all is going well, then I go outside to talk to one of the guys on a smoke break. I said, “Who is that guy?”

He said, “I don’t know, the gardener I think. You don’t think the gardener is out selling visas do you? He doesn’t even have access to the building.

“I said pull him in.”

We got Usman in with one of our San Antonio agents. He picked up on the accent right away. Well, red flags went off for me and we were even more convinced when we saw the hits in the system on this guy. Usman played it pretty cool. He’s just hoping to get through college, yada yada. I didn’t buy it but I had to get on a plane and get back to Washington. I left it with Ballistrade, figuring we’d probably just have to deny this character access to the Consulate forever. By this point we had already figured out that the guards were dirty, lining people up so they went to Miguel’s window, no matter how often the Consulate changed his spot. The Ambassador fired the whole guard force. Anyway, I told Ballistrade not to let anybody go until everyone had given their statement. I figured we were almost wrapped up when I left at 16:00. I was wrong.


**


Ballistrade is sitting so close to Lee that she can feel his body heat. His gum is clicking in her ear. Still, she knows this is the time to tell the truth about Usman and she does.

“You mean you had an affair with this Cuban guy, you had relations twice, you found out from Sinclair he was Cuban and you didn’t report it? Is that right?” Ballistrade’s face is almost contorted in anger.

“That’s right.” Lee says.

“And when I talked to you that night locking up, all this had already transpired?”

“Right.”

“And what? You forgot? It slipped your mind that you were fucking a Cuban? Possibly an agent? And it never occurred to you that you might be a high level target?

“No, I did not forget. I did not think he was an agent. I thought he was… I think he is… a gardener. I did plan to report it, but only after I finished this American Citizen case.”

“And what made that case so special? How many Americans do have missing or killed here? Dozens? A hundred? You thought you were going to bring the narcos to justice in one fell swoop?”

“I thought I could make a difference in one case. I still think that.”

“You do. Well let me tell you something. The only difference you are going to make anymore is the difference you make back in Minnesota or Nebraska or wherever you are from, because I am not recommending you stay in the United States Foreign Service for two minutes longer than necessary. Write up your report, put in the nicest prose you want. I know what recommendation is going to be, I know where you are going to end up, and I know the Foreign Service is going to be a lot better off without you. Thank you. Your interview is over.


*44*


Most people underestimate Lee Penny. At least until she starts talking. She is capable, self-reliant. At Ithaca, while other kids went to Paris or London for their international experience she went to Canada. Not to Montreal, but to Iqaluit. For most of her classmates there is a geographical image of the world starting in the Finger Lakes and extending in photographic style up through Toronto or Montreal. The image is leafy highways, Catskills inns, roadside restaurants. Then the image is just a map with a few Eskimos. For Lee, the image stays photographic to the lower Arctic. She knows the people there. Their warmth and generosity. It was interesting to see the world from their perspective. She once asked a friend in Iqaluit if she had read Le Miserable by Hugo. Her friend said 'no' but she thought she had heard about it. Hugo's from New York, right? "No," Lee said surprised, he's French!"


"Oh yea, her friend said, I knew he was from somewhere down there." France, New York, if you are from the Iqaluit they are all the same. Just like there is the border, and everything away from the border. Maybe she felt at home up north because of her Finnish blood. Her grandfather, Jukka-Pekka Penttinan and wife Annukka felt right at home in the north too. They settled in Bemidji, Minnesota. Lee found Ithaca to be a bit more cosmopolitan than Bemidji, but otherwise the trees, the lakes, and the freezing temperatures were at lot like home in Minnesota. The loggers Jukka worked with quickly changed Jukka to Chuck and Penttian to Penny. Chuck Penny was a logger's logger.


Lee's favorite Arctic memory is seeing almost the whole town come out to find her when she decided to walk home on the frozen bay after a snowmobile ride. She hitched a snowmobile ride with some tourists onto Iqaluit Bay. When they headed back on their snowmobiles, she walked. Half the town turned out to look for her when she was overdue. Being alone in the Arctic is never a good idea. No one said a word when they found her. The Mayor just nodded, put his arm around her and they walked home. Satisfied.


*45*


Usman grew up on Quinta Avenida in Havana. A once prosperous street a five mile walk from downtown Havana. He grew up hitching rides on his roller skates on the back of the "guaguas" those old Hungarian busses that still ride Havana’s street but long ago stopped making the “gua-gua” sound on their horns. He and his buddies would grab on to the bumper at a bus stop and hang on for dear life. He had more than a few scars from times when he could not. Then he was given a chance to go to Mexico City with a group of dancers. He jumped at it. And after five days in Mexico City he jumped from the hotel window and was free. Or so he thought. He was caught within five minutes and taken to the Cuban Embassy. There he was recruited to work for Cuban intelligence. They liked his style.


*46*


The 15 year old boy looks scared but determined. Lee is in Laredo Denny's to hear his story. While DS completes their investigation, Consul General Farrington has convinced DS to allow her to stay on.

The boy begins his story. "At first they were really nice to us. They fed us and we did little jobs for them. Go out for cokes. Then Syndi became their "girlfriend." The dressed her up really nice and told me I had to leave. She could only go one block away from the house. I got scared and told the police when I got to the Texas side. The Texas police said I had to call you since this is all in Mexico. So I walked back over the bridge. Can you get her back?" The boy pulled on his coke.


"Where's your mom?" Lee asks.

"She's coming from Port Arthur. She should be here tonight at 10."

"Was your sister into drugs?"
"Lots of cocaine. That was Syndi's payment for being their girlfriend."

"How many men are there?"

"Five or six. They receive the shipments of cocaine in another house, right near the border. Sometimes we worked there. The packages were packed to the ceiling."

"Any names?"

"Paco. Chino. All first names."

"Can you show me where you lived on the Mexican side?"

"Yes, but I don't want to go in the daytime."

"Alright. We'll go at 9. It should be dark. We'll go to Mexico and come back in time for your mom."


They cruise the street at dark. The 15 year old gets confused because of the dark, but finally identifies a car associated with the gang. Lee notes all the details she can.

At 10 they meet with the mom. She is a huge woman in that weight range that is impossible to estimate -- 300? 400 pounds? Hard