CHAPTER NINE
“I see,” she said quietly. “So, we’re certain he didn’t take the drugs willingly.”
“All indications are he did not take it willingly. It wasn’t a pleasant scene, Lennon. What we do know, so far, is that Bora and his team was sent down there to deal with the cartel. Unfortunately, it appears that he did more than deal with them, he literally made a deal with them,” said Gator.
“For what?” she asked, her reporter’s inquisitive side creeping in. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to understand why the very men we think are preventing all of this from happening, are making it worse.”
“Not every man or woman in the military is a good person, Lennon. We’d like to believe that they are but many are not. They get tainted by what they see, what they do. They’re tired of doing a job that others refuse to do for a fraction of the salary that some fancy barista makes.
“Everyone loses faith, loses sight of what’s right and wrong on occasion. When they find themselves tempted with drugs, money, and power, and it seems easy, some jump. Not all, but some,” said Gator.
“I guess I understand that,” frowned Lennon. “We had a guy who did a story on Senator Greene once. He found out that he was taking massive payments under the table and offered the reporter ten-grand if he’d keep it a secret.”
“Did he?” asked Brooks.
“He did and then died in a strange vehicle accident,” she said staring at them. “I don’t understand any of it. That kind of behavior doesn’t register with me. My parents were older when they had me but they were both hard-working, strong moral values people. I remember my father found a wallet in a parking lot of a hotel we were staying in. We were on vacation in Pensacola, Florida. It was fat with money. Lots of money.”
“What did he do?” asked Gator.
“He took it to the hotel front desk to turn it in. The man was already there, frantic, begging for someone to help him. My dad asked his name and verified his identification. He handed him the wallet. The man tried to give my dad some money and he refused. He told him to buy someone in need breakfast or lunch, something. That was his repayment.”
“Your parents sound like good people,” smirked Mitchell.
“They’re the best. Can I call them? Can I tell them that I’m okay but not in San Diego right now?” She reached for her phone inside her bag but couldn’t find it.
“Oh, uh, you’ll forgive me I hope but we gave your phone to our tech team. They made sure your locator was off and no bugs on the phone. It’s clean with new protections on it now,” said Brooks handing her the cell phone.
“Oh. Thank you,” she said taking the phone. “Can I call them?”
“Yes,” said Ham. “Just don’t give a location. Maybe tell them you’re taking some time off and hiking in the mountains, out of cell phone reach.” She nodded and then turned back to the table.
“Thank you all for helping me. I want to figure out what’s going on and I want to make sure that we catch these men.”
Brooks watched as she walked away and then turned to the table of people staring at him.
“You didn’t tell her that Bora left her a voicemail. Why?” asked Ham.
“Why? Because it was fucking brutal, that’s why. She was already scared to death and freaking out,” said Brooks.
“She wasn’t freaking out, Brooks. You were,” said Gator. “Look. I get it. I can see that there’s something there for you and that young woman. But trust me in this, keeping shit from her is not going to win you any brownie points. Yes, the phone call was brutal. You could hear whoever that poor bastard was screaming in pain, but that won’t change a damn thing about how we’re going to approach this.”
Priscilla and River stepped toward the table and Brooks knew instantly that he wasn’t going to like whatever they were going to say.
“Hey, guys. Priscilla has been working with comms to try and figure out why Bora and his team were in Bolivia. Were you aware that they were the team to go in and neutralize the Bolivian president?” asked River.
“No, I was not,” frowned Brooks. “But let’s be clear. He didn’t neutralize him. I heard that bastard was nearly skinned alive and hanged outside his palace.”
“That’s right,” nodded Priscilla. “We’d been talking about it as far back as when I was with the bureau but no one could get anyone on the inside to help. Ruvienne was a secluded man. He never made a schedule, never told anyone his schedule, didn’t have an assistant and as far as we knew, he didn’t even keep a calendar on his phone.”
“Then who helped Bora and his team?” asked Mitchell.
“No one seems to know. They were down there a few weeks, just trying to get a read on where he was and then how he traveled, where, all of it. Then suddenly he sends a message to base that they have him in their sights. Base said take him. Not take him out. Just take him. They wanted him alive.”
“Did anyone ask why he wasn’t alive?” asked Brooks.
“Everyone asked. Bora told them he put up a fight and that fighting cartel factions ended up getting there before they could.”
“I don’t buy that bullshit for a minute,” said Brooks. “I don’t like Bora. In fact, right now I hate the bastard but he was one fucking bad-ass Marine. No way cartel beat him to Ruvienne. But if what you say is true, that means that someone on the inside was helping Ruvienne. What about his kids? His wife?”
