::EIGHTEEN::
“…..wants to meet us.”
All I can think of is Jeanette, and how it felt in that moment as I held her when she was so afraid. How it made me feel when I said I would take care of her, and how deeply I meant it. She’s not just my girlfriend anymore, and I can’t think of her as just that, I don’t think I ever did. I was serious about her from the day I first met her. Lover and beloved were the first words in my head when I told her I couldn’t just be a date to her anymore. Even those words pale in comparison to what I feel for her now, the depth of it. I should be scared by that, I should be fighting it, but I’m not.
Alvarez looks over at me and smiles, “Nothing’s going to happen to her, Vetter, I mean it. I’ve got one of my informants going down there now. He’s good, he’ll watch the place for us. She’ll be all right. That kid Dan wouldn’t let anything happen to her either.” Alvarez had passed Dan a card as we were leaving, and I’m pretty sure if something, anything, were to go wrong, Dan would call. Its not enough. In my heart she’s mine and mine alone to protect, to keep safe.
I rest my head back against the headrest, pinching the bridge of my nose, trying to bring myself back here, to what’s going on now. Everything in me wants to be with Jeanette, to take her away from anything that’s going to scare her. I can’t do that though, not in the way I want to because Jeanette said she needed to do this, needed to face the fear. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.
Letting out a sigh, I turn to face Alvarez finally. “You said someone wanted to meet with us.” I hadn’t ignored Alvarez earlier, it’s just that it’s Saturday morning, and I haven’t even thought about this “case” that isn’t a case since Thursday, when Jeanette called me. Everything else took a back seat to her, my whole life revolving completely around her for that short time.
Alvarez takes the next street, making his way into a derelict area of the city, full of abandoned buildings and warehouses. I’m guessing we’re not going to meet up with some guy in a business suit.
“Yeah, I got a call from our mysterious friend from outside the bookstore yesterday.” Vega’s man, who was to meet up with the third DEA agent, Frank Anderson. The man that stayed, at a considerable risk to himself, to call 911, and to watch over Jeanette, who ran out to try to help Anderson, in case the gunmen came back. “He said that Anderson had given him something important, before the gunfire started, something that would break this wide open.”
“Do you trust him, Alvarez? I don’t really feel like getting shot at this morning.” We’re both armed, it’s not really something we talk about much. It’s not even something that comes up that often. I start watching the street carefully, taking every car, every open window into account. It’s not lost on Alvarez.
“Right now, I trust him more than our own guys, more than anyone in the DEA.” He doesn’t need to say I’m not included in that sweeping statement. We’ve both been outside of the regular DEA for a while now, even before this ‘case’ started. He watches out the window, his expression hard and cold again. The man loves what he does, and loves what he is, but there are days when I sincerely believe he hates who he works for. With this whole mess I can’t say I blame him. “He said that Anderson finally contacted Vega when Brubakers’ son was killed, and that Jeremy Brubaker had gotten something to him before he died.”
“Did he say what he had? It would have to be something serious for Anderson to turn around and go to Vega with it. There’s no way he could have known Vega wouldn’t just kill him outright, considering he was originally in with Brubaker.” All of these guys are so eager to stab each other in the back, you need a scorecard to keep them all straight. How could Anderson have known what would happen? He must have had something pretty serious. Something Vega would want more than his desire to kill him for it.
“You should have called me yesterday, Alvarez.” He just looks over at me, not saying a word, the corner of his mouth turned up in the beginning of a leer. I turn away again to watch out the window and try to keep from laughing. “I’m glad you didn’t though.”
“There was absolutely no way I was going to call you yesterday, you lucky dog. You need to take like a whole week off, Vetter, at least. Just get the hell away from this mess for a while.”
I watch Alvarez for a second before closing my eyes. My chest tightens, as I picture Jeanette, on a beach with me somewhere, far away from everyone and everything, not having to share her with anyone. I miss the beach, more and more lately. Jeanette’s from Seattle. I wonder if she misses the sea too.
At the red light he turns to me with that patented leer, “Maybe go to Vegas and do something crazy, so Adriana will stop making me nuts with all the questions, questions, questions.” His hands wave in the air as he says it, in another Adriana impersonation.
I already had a knot in my chest already just thinking about spending some real time alone with her. Swallowing hard, I turn to look out the window, everything starting to blur. I settle for closing my eyes.
“Breathe, Sean. I’m just messing with you a little.” His voice is quiet, and sincere. I let go of the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “You’re getting in pretty deep. You doing okay?”
He’s not leering anymore, just that piercing look that will cut right through you. I have to take a second, watching out the window, and try to settle my nerves. Looking over at him finally, I nod, not really trusting my own voice. I want her. More than anything I want her. I guess I just avoided where that thought would eventually take me. He very well might have been kidding, but knowing Alvarez like I do, I know it’s a little bit of kidding and a whole lot of serious.
Could I marry her? Should I? Should I even be thinking about that right now or am I setting myself up for one hell of a big hurt? To say nothing of how Jeanette would feel about it. I had felt so sure this morning, loving the sound of her in my house, and the simple things like seeing her toothbrush next to mine in the bathroom, and now, I have this hollow pit in my gut. I have to face it, I’m scared. Not of Jeanette, not unless she were to say no, that is. Just scared.
“Yeah, I’m getting in pretty deep, Alvarez.” The air in the car feels colder than it should, and I swallow hard past the cold knot of unease in my throat.
“Maybe it’s fate, god’s will, that brought you two together. Stop fighting it.”
“I never figured you for a religious person.” My surprise is genuine, as I face him. I know that Adriana goes to church regularly, but Alvarez never seems to go with her. He’s never once mentioned anything religious.
“I never used to be, until I met Adriana. I used to be one bad ass motherfucker, Vetter.” He’s laughing, as he turns towards me. That hard expression he gets on his face every once in a while just got a little clearer. I’m so used to seeing him smile most of the time, happy almost all of the time. Maybe it’s just those damned bright shirts. Every once in a while you catch him, for just a second, and the man looks plain hard. “Adriana saw something else in me, or I’d probably be dead right now. You and Jeanette are like that. Adriana says that you should be together, that it was gods will that you both found each other. I don’t know much about gods will, but fate? Yeah, fate I’ve got figured out. Take the chance, Vetter. Not right this second, she’d probably run screaming, but don’t leave it too long, fate’s funny that way.”
Now that the idea is out there, it doesn’t seem nearly so terrifying to me, like saying it out loud was something that needed to be said. To marry her. Not now, I’m not even close to seriously dealing with that question yet, and I couldn’t deal with Jeanette’s saying no. It would kill me in every way that mattered, but the thought is out there now. I take a deep breath to clear my head, and try to focus on what’s ahead of us.
Alvarez looks over at me before driving through another intersection, that leer back on his face. “So, Vetter, are you going to spill it about all those meatballs rolling around on your back porch?”
He’s caught me off guard, and he’s probably done it on purpose. Laughing out loud, I wipe my hands over my face to try to keep from smiling so much. “No, that one I’m going to keep to myself.” I couldn’t even begin to explain the way she made me feel anyway.
Alvarez slows the car down at a deserted spot in the street, his eyes scanning the entire area before bringing the car to a stop. He leaves the engine running. “Don’t worry, Vetter, they’re mine.” I had spotted the two men at opposite sides of the alleyway we were sitting across from. We usually use informants, it’s one of the only ways we can do what we do. Alvarez had pulled out all the stops calling in favours lately.
It’s a tense couple of minutes when the car pulls up behind us, letting out Vega’s contact. A lean, dangerous looking man in his mid thirties, wearing a tank top and low riding chinos. He walks up to the drivers window in plain view, after taking a measured glance at the two men Alvarez has stationed in the alley on either side of us. He’d be shot dead instantly, if it even looked like he was a threat. He keeps his hands up, a manila envelope in one and the other open, to show he’s not armed. I’m guessing the tank top, despite the cold of the morning, was in the same vein.
“Vega’s looking for a deal. You go easy on him, in return for this.” He’s holds the envelope a little higher.
Alvarez gives him a hard look. “No deal, we don’t promise anything here. Hell, this isn’t even a case, and Vega knows it. This is something else.”
The silence stretches out, before the man relaxes, barely. “Good. Vega said that if you were willing to deal, I was to walk away, that you weren’t to be trusted.”
The man adds nothing when he walks up to the window, just hands Alvarez the envelope, and takes a step back, his eyes flicking back to the gunmen in the alleyway.
“Prove you’re with Vega.” Alvarez shifts imperceptibly in the drivers seat, the only sign that he’s even heard me at all. I don’t really know who to trust in all of this, but right now Vega seems the cleanest choice. How’s that for messed up, that I have to put my trust in a drug lord.
The man drops to a squat in front of the drivers side window, keeping his hands up and staying absolutely still for a moment, watching as Alvarez motions to the two men in the alleyway that the sudden movement is all right. The tension is thick in the air between us, with the weight of the holster digging into my hip. He raises his arm slowly, reaching over and moving some of the fabric of his shirt to reveal the small tattoo just under his left armpit. Vega’s mark. The man gets up again, slowly, keeping his arms out to the side and walking back to the car. The street was always quiet, but now the tension slowly leeches out of it.
“Good thinking, Vetter.” Alvarez hands me the manila envelope as he pulls back into the street, nodding to his two informants as he passes. The men melt back into the forever dusk of the derelict buildings, like ghosts.
“It’s hard to keep all these guys straight. I remembered the tattoos, from the coroners office, of Vega’s two dealers. I figured if this really did come from Vega himself, whoever he sent would probably be branded too.”
“Glad it wasn’t on the inside of the thigh, like those two other guys. That could have been awkward, pulling his chinos off in the middle of the street. We’d probably all be arrested for lewd conduct. They’d have to keep me in jail, because Adriana would kill me.”
Alvarez is laughing, but the sound is distant and tinny in the car, like a conversation heard when you’re underwater. Vega sent copies, a small note in a clear neat handwriting explaining that he would keep the originals. Also that he had sent a copy of these same papers to the University newspaper that Jeremy Brubaker had worked for, the newspaper he had written for, before he got killed. Probably for getting hold of the very pages I was looking at right now.
“Brubaker had his own son killed, Alvarez.” My voice is quiet in the car, thinking about the kind of person that could kill their own son, just to protect themselves. The photocopied pages spread out over my lap, I motion with my hand, pointing ahead, to keep driving past the office. There’s no way we’re stopping there, not with this in the car.
“Jeremy Brubaker got into his old man’s home office safe, after Anderson tipped him off about how his dad came into his money. He was going to expose him, and write a piece for the University newspaper, using Anderson and the contents of the safe as proof. Anderson told him to be careful but he confronted the old man anyway, and was killed the next morning for it. His girlfriend just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” A chill washes over me, as I think of Jeanette. If this were a real case, I would be backing out of it.
“How did Anderson end up with the notes?” Alvarez is taking a lazy circuitous route around El Paso. I point at a bank, as he passes, and he takes a long route around the block to end up back in front of the building, where we sit, with all of the papers spread between us both. This is what Alvarez is good at, taking things apart into their pieces, spreading them out, and seeing patterns where other people see nothing.
The pages are photocopies from a small coil notebook that I’d be willing to bet belonged to Brubaker, the dates going back to 1992. He moves the pages around, and I start to see what he’s seeing. Three names that keep repeating throughout the pages. “Rodriguez”, “Castile”, and “Bishop”. They started out as being linked only to Brubaker, with the latest reference having “Bishop” having a conversation with Vega himself. This is explained in Vega’s own neat handwriting in the margins of the pages, along with the underlined words “CIA team”. Brubaker’s CIA wetworks team, the men he had arranged to have kill his own son. The men that had likely killed Anderson himself. At least one member of Brubakers own team of CIA assassins had gone directly to the competition, at some point after Jeremy Brubaker was killed. A double cross in the works?
“Anderson had the kid make copies, rather than leave the originals at the university. Nothing was found, I’m guessing whoever killed the kid took the notes. Anderson had the originals, probably for safe keeping, or he knew where the kid kept them.” I pass the last of the pages I was looking at over to Alvarez as I say it, those last pages making my blood run cold. I know what it looks like to me, but I want to get Alvarez’s take on it. Maybe it’s just too big a thing to just come out and say.
“Written proof, in Brubaker’s own writing, that he had arranged with Vega’s predecessor to have the DEA backup killed by the Cartel in 1993, so that he could steal the drugs. He burned his own guys, and then he turned around and burned the Cartel. If this “Bishop” started talking to Vega, I’d be willing to bet it’s because Brubaker was willing to burn his own CIA wetworks team. Now I understand why Vega left us with copies only, Vetter.” Alvarez is straightening the papers back into their proper order again, the short handwritten letter from Vega back on the top.
“We’re still DEA, and he can’t be sure that we wouldn’t hide this.”
“Exactly, just like the rest of this 1993 deal has been swept under the rug. I guess it’s going to come out now.”
Vega had explained that he had sent a copy of the same manila envelope to the journalism department at the University. The man has a nearly poetic sense of justice. Justice, now there’s a strange word, when it comes to describing a drug lord. Alvarez looks over the note on the top of the pile again, before handing it over to me, almost reluctantly, after a deep sigh.
I hadn’t really looked at the handwritten note that closely, the rest of the pages had held my attention. The note from Vega wasn’t really addressed to anyone, and, in fact, our names were absent from the entire sheaf of papers. An apology, from Vega himself, for what had happened to “the young woman who tried to help our mutual aquaintance”, and a promise, “on my honour”, that he would deal with it. Honour. What the hell has the world come to.
I put the note back in the envelope, and ask Alvarez to wait for me, while I put the envelope in a safety deposit box at the bank. Just in case.
“What do you think the DEA’s going to do about this, once it comes out?” I ask Alvarez when I get back into the car.
He pulls out, headed back towards the office, where we can pretend that we don’t know the slightest thing about any of this. “I don’t know, Vetter. How much of this do you think they’re even aware of? They might have known that Brubaker was dirty, but I’d be willing to bet they didn’t know just how dirty he was. Burning your own backup is about as dirty as it gets.”
“If Brubaker has even half the pull he’s rumored to have, he could have seen to it that that part never came up. It’s going to come out now. I think Vega is looking at something a little more than a drive-by or a car bomb here, I think he’s looking to destroy Brubaker first.”
“And once it comes out, it’ll just be a matter of who gets to him first. Internal affairs, or Vega himself.” Alvarez pulls into the back of the lot, going quiet for a moment as we pass the security booth, before continuing. “Then there’s that CIA team to consider. Where do they fall in all this? Clearly Brubaker has no problem hanging people out to dry to save his own neck, I wonder how they’ll take to that?”
I let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose again, thinking how much simpler things are when I just think of Jeanette. That idea of just going away with her somewhere sounds better all the time. I need her so badly it hurts.
I’m making a move to call her when Alvarez’s cellphone chirps quietly. I stop halfway out of the car, watching him, before getting back in, my gut in a knot and my knuckles white. I hate that I can’t hear the other side of the conversation, and Alvarez is taking too long. He pulls back out of the parking lot, not putting his phone down until we hit the first intersection.
“An undercover cop just went into the bookstore, it’s probably nothing, Vetter. My guy recognized him. Detective John Holloway. I’m guessing it’s about the place getting shot up on Thursday. Saturday morning before they take an interest….” Alvarez is shaking his head, a disgusted look on his face, as we pull up in front of the bookstore.
I’m too pissed off to say anything. I don’t want Jeanette touched by any of this, and I don’t want her name coming up amongst those keystone cops. Who knows where the hell it would end up then.
“Be cool, it’s probably nothing. You go in there to kick his ass and you just might turn it into something. Throwing cops across the hoods of cars, kicking meatballs everywhere. Geez, Vetter. Who knew you had this kind of a temper on you? Where the hell did you pick that up? I like it.”
He’s playing with me. I know it, and he knows it, but it does get me to settle down a little before I do something that I might regret. Worse, something Jeanette might pay for. I let Alvarez go into the bookstore first, my eyes scanning for Jeanette the moment I set foot in the place. Dan is in front of the employees only door, standing his ground. The kid’s got a set of balls on him, I’ll give him that. The detective stands nearly a foot taller than him. He’s bigger than me, older, stockier, with a serious face and a grey crew cut. Not a man to be taken lightly, I’m guessing.
Dan’s face is pale, and he looks noticeably relieved when Alvarez and I walk up. Alvarez steps between the detective and I, and stays there, his hand on my arm for a second. It looks like Dan had locked Jeanette in the small room at some point, the combination lock just hanging over the hasp. She’s pounding on the door on the other side, and shouting at Dan to let her out. Dan’s eyes flick between the big detective and me, not sure who he should be more worried about. A last hard look at the detective, before I ease Dan aside, and slip into the back room, closing the door behind me for a moment to talk to Jeanette first.
She’s furious, I’ve never seen her angry before. It fades away quickly, as she moves into my arms, her whole body trembling with rage, before her breath hitches.
“Don’t cry, beautiful. Don’t cry. Just tell me what happened.” Kissing her hair, my hands smooth over her back, her breathing quickly evening out again as she holds me.
“I guess he’s a detective, I don’t know. He came in and the minute he said he wanted to talk to me about the shooting, ‘off the record’ he said, Dan pushed me into the office and locked the door. All I could hear was Dan shouting at him to get the hell out, and no, he wasn’t going to get to talk to me. I guess Dan had tried to call you, and couldn’t. I just feel so …..fucking useless…” I guess I’m not the only one with a temper. Her voice is rising again, and I bury my nose in her hair to keep myself from smiling at her fury. “…Locked in this stupid little room….” Her body is tense again, so I hold her a little tighter, and caress her back again until she settles. Her breath huffed out as she lets go of her anger, pressing her face into my shirt, as though she was trying to find some peace there. I know how she feels.
“Let me go out and deal with it, ‘Nette. Will you promise me that if I let you out of here, you won’t kill Dan?” The kid really does have a set of balls on him, I don’t know who he should be more worried about, the big detective out front, or Jeanette in here. I do know that Jeanette’s the one he locked in. Maybe that says a lot.
“Don’t you smile at me, Sean.” She’s trying to be angry, but it’s fading fast, easing away to nothing the longer I hold her. Looking up at me quickly, and away again, before covering her face with her hands and bursting into a small fit of giggles.
My hand eases down her back to cup her rear, my bottom lip brushing over her ear. “How long do you think Dan would keep that door locked for?”
Her body presses hard against mine, as she looks up at me, the fire not completely out of her eyes yet. Sexy as hell. “They’d probably wonder what the hell I was yelling about now.”
My hand traces the bottom curve of her rear inward, the warm heat of her, even through her clothes, silencing us both for a moment, as I just held her. I lean down to kiss her, pulling her to me with everything in me. A deep kiss that makes the room disappear, that makes everyone outside, this whole mess, just vanish. Until all that’s left is Jeanette and I, all I want.
Her eyes are softer when I look at her again, my thumb skimming over the line of her cheekbone before cupping her face to look up at me. All I want is her. “If I got some time off, say a week or so, would you go with me, ‘Nette?” Her lips part slightly, and in my head all I hear is “no”. So I keep talking so I don’t have to hear it. “I don’t really have a plan, maybe take you to the beach, or….”
“Yes.”
Her voice is quiet, and she’s biting her bottom lip again, her whole body painfully still. Like she’s waiting to hear a “no” of her own. Our hearts race, and I’d swear we both held our breath forever, like to breathe would change everything. My hand shook as I played with her hair, kissing her softly.
The quiet knock at the door brings the rest of the world back to us. It’s Dan, who looks at us both before dropping his eyes, his hands fidgeting. “I’m really sorry, Jeanette, I didn’t know what else to do…”
Jeanette just smiles at him, her hand holding his elbow for a moment, before letting go. The detective is far in the stacks with Alvarez, who’s talking to him quietly, as they walk towards the fire exit. I hand Dan my card, and thank him for taking care of ‘Nette. She grins back at me.
“Did you want to leave, ‘Nette? If you’re upset…” I held her by the waist, as Dan went to clear some cups off a table out front to leave us alone.
“Is that…” She nods over at the detective, “…going to be okay?”
“I’m not going to let anything harm you, ‘Nette. He’s not going to be a problem.” I must have looked pissed off again, her hand reaching up to rest against the side of my neck.
“I’m going to be okay here, Sean. Come get me after work?” Her fingertip traces a line down my jaw, making me look away from the detective, seeing only her again, my whole world.
I could get lost in her, but settle for another kiss, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’ll be here.” My voice is hoarse with wanting her. Leaving is so damned hard. “I love you” The words we both whispered before we kissed again.
I sit in the front seat of the car watching Alvarez as he comes out from around the corner of the building. I guess he walked out the back with the detective, rather than risk having us meet again. It doesn’t matter, my anger’s long gone. She said yes. I don’t have any idea where to take her, or even when I can do it it, but she said yes.
Alvarez watches me for a moment as he gets into the car, before his face breaks into a huge grin and he pulls out into the traffic.
copyright © 2006 xxxevilgrinxxx