DOES THIS AK GO WITH MY BROOKS BROTHER SUIT - TWWW Part 4

You never let a serious crisis go to waste. And what I mean by that [is] it's an opportunity to do things you think you could not do before. – Rahm Emanuel (Current White House Chief of Staff)

This was way too easy, Xavier thought. He was going back and forth across the border weekly. He usually traveled alone, but his younger cousin, Angel wanted to come along with him on a few ‘pick-ups. He was hoping to get his own route. The cartel was still in the beginning stages and doing well, but Xavier wasn’t too proud to do the work. He had been doing the pick-ups for over a year now, with no trouble. He’d drive into Mexico and pick up enough weapons to outfit a militia along with several hundred thousand dollars worth of drugs, and drive them over the border to either Texas or Los Angeles by way of San Diego. This white truck had a cornucopia of fruits and vegetables and letters spelling out, “Del Soto Farms”, on each side. Xavier pulled his class “C” license out of his wallet. There was a small line before the border patrol agents would get to them. He ran his fingers over his picture. “What’s up man?” Angel asked. Xavier held up the card to him, Marcus Delgado it read. “Who’s that?” Angel asked. “Hell if I know, but it cracks me up every time I look at it. Oh yeah, remember, while the agents are around call me Marcus.”

“What’s my name? Angel asked”
“Jose”
“Man that’s generic”
“Lesson number 1 Angel, blend. Be what they want you to be…what they think you should be.”

There was one more car ahead of them. Xavier glanced down and noticed Angel’s open duffle bag sitting between them on the seat. It was filled with his clothes, a pair of tennis shoes and a handgun with a bag of marijuana resting on top.
“Angel are you stupid?” Xavier shifted his eyes down towards the bag.

The car ahead of them was driving off. “Don’t do anything sudden, just act regular…and smile.” One agent was sitting in the booth while the other was standing outside with his clipboard and pen in his hands and a gun in his holster. Angel casually brought the bag closer to his body and leaned on it as if it was an arm rest.
“Anything to claim?” the agent asked. Angel kept trying to pull the sides of the duffle bag together and discreetly move the gun which was digging into his forearm.
“No sir,” Xavier answered.
“What’s your business?”
“Truck driver. I’m bringing produce to some markets into San Diego and Los Angeles.”
“Yeah, I think I recognize the truck. You usually travel alone right?” the agent said looking over at Angel, who was doing his best to look relaxed.
“Yes. I’m training him.”
“Let me see your id and your paperwork.” Xavier handed it to him.
“Ahh yes, Marcus, I do remember you”


The ground agent walked around the truck, running his hand over its hull with an occasional rapping to listen for changes in sound. He then walked over to the booth and got an inspection mirror to look underneath the truck. He stopped at Angel’s window.

“Do you have anything to claim?”
“The other agent just asked us that?
“No, he asked the driver. Now I am asking you. Do you have anything to claim?”

Angel heard Xavier’s breathing pattern change; a deep breath with no release. Angel didn’t bother to look over. In his mind he already knew what Xavier would say, ‘Don’t be an idiot man, just answer the question.’ Angel didn’t get the chance. “What’s in the duffle bag?” he asked.

“Just my cloths and stuff. You know us guys don’t know how to pack. We just throw everything in. My wife usually does my packing.” The agent glanced at Angel’s left hand, ring finger. No band. “You know man, what happens in Mexico, stays in Mexico,” Angel said running his right hand over his left with special attention to covering up his ring finger, otherwise the agent might notice there was no tan line.
“You look a little young,” the agent asked.
“We’re in love. No seriously, she got pregnant.”
“I’d like you and your friend here to step out of the truck and please open the back for me.”

Not good. What was in the back of the truck would equal many years in jail. The agent in the booth yelled out, “Rick we don’t have time for that. Look at the line starting to form behind them. Look, I’ve seen this guy before, I randomly check his cargo. He’s ok. Let’s just keep it movin.” The agent handed back Xavier’s i.d. “He’s a new guy”, he said referring to Rick. “He’s a little anxious. Have a good day Marcus…and what’s your associate’s name?”
“Jose.”
“…and you too Jose.”
“Thanks…uh….,” Xavier searched, but couldn’t find a name tag. There was always a name tag.”
“The name’s Charlie,” the patrol agent offered.
“Thanks Charlie.”

Business grew quickly for Xavier. He learned English in his first year after crossing the border to live in California 3 years earlier. He didn’t remember too much about that night; the white tents or what they put in him, but he considered it to be good luck. He had made some connections with the right people and proved himself to be a professional. He built up a crew and though he was young; he was viewed as one of the most respected and vicious drug cartel leaders. He’d run drugs out of Mexico and into the U.S. and run weapons into Mexico from the mid-west. He only trusted himself to do the pick ups, but now business was getting so big, he wanted his cousin, Angel to take over and train his own crew to handle the routes.

They were called the Fantasma cartel; Spanish for ‘ghost’. The name seemed appropriate. Neither Xavier nor his crew were ever picked up by the state police and Xavier’s shipments were never checked. They moved in and out without detection, it was like they were invisible. The Mexican locals kept calling them ‘Fantasma’s”, until the name stuck. They were becoming a legend quickly. The Mexican government was in Xavier’s pocket and there were sprinklings of support from LA, Arizona and other border friendly states. The borders had fast become a joke and the guards were reduced to drive thru window cashiers. This was the first time Xavier had encountered a delay, but like Charlie said, “New guy.” The new guys are always anxious.

Xavier had no major competition. He got rid of the little up and comers, before they became, in a series of gun battles across Mexico. The last big cartel’s reign was taken care of by federal agents a few years ago when they made the mistake of trying to go high profile in U.S. territories. Away from the protection of the Mexican government, they were taken down quickly. Xavier’s only real competition now was Leo Castillo, one of the few surviving members of the last bid cartel. He was an old fart of a man, trying to recapture his youth after spending the majority of it in prison. Leo murdered an informer and his wife who escaped to Texas until he found them. Leo made it back to Mexico, but the Texans, wanting to make a statement, made a better offer to Mexican officials than what the cartel was willing to pay to keep him in Mexico, so Leo was extradited back to Texas. The judge didn’t feel right giving a 16 year old the death sentence, so Leo was given 18 years in prison. And in Texas, 18 years means 18 years. He was 34 when he got out; he had aged 10 years older and put on quite a bit of weight. He married his high school girlfriend and began to build up a new group. A lot had changed since he went away. The governments seemed to have their own agendas; he doubted he would go to jail now for what he did all those years ago. He was probably right.

The Fantasma Cartel was headed to the Bromley Meadows. The slogan was “Why Just Buy A Home, When You Could Buy A Lifestyle”. The ads boasted of balconies overlooking the ocean in most models, floor to ceiling glass walls and the most up to date appliances with a washer and dryer in every unit. Bromley Meadows was roughly the size of Disneyland. There were 5, for tenants only, work-out areas, 1 with a swimming pool and another with an indoor track. There were over 200 stores, 50 eateries, including 15 upscale restaurants, 6 theatres, a water park, 1 full size grocery store, 4 mini marts, an above ground trolley car system for public transportation and over 300 living style homes from which to choose.

Many in the Castillo Cartel purchased homes at The Bromley; all by a third party. The home owner association member’s complaints were silenced by gifts, such as all expense paid vacations to exotic destinations. The few tenants not impressed with these gifts were given intimidating offers of money for their homes at a price way above market value. Leo lived in a penthouse in the west tower; only 2 penthouses were on the top floor. In the Bromley, Leo lived a respectable life.

It was a Saturday afternoon and Leo was turning 35. He invited 100 of his closest family, friends and colleagues to his favorite restaurant, Manny’s, which was located in Bromley. He rented out the entire 2nd floor of the restaurant and had it decorated to his liking, with gold and white balloons lining the ceiling. The balcony stretched from one end of the restaurant to other and was completely open so the guests could sit out on the patio enjoying the Saturday afternoon crowd and the freshly manicured gardens. Nearby, the water fountain, with jets sending streams of water up at least 25 feet, was performing on cue to Frank Sinatra singing “I’m Beginning to See The Light”. The day was typical; people walking up and down the store lined streets, spending money they don’t have and a line of high end cars waiting to get into the parking lot.

Xavier and his associates were caravanning their way to The Bromley; 10 cars, Escalades and other utility vehicles, all stolen. The license plates removed and replaced with official Mexican government plates. All together there were 50 members of the cartel and enough weapons to start a small war.


*****

Agent Grimm kept checking his watch against the digital clock in the surveillance van, one of many sprinkled in various locations a few miles from the Bromley... It was 1:30. He would be giving his last briefing before things got started. Fellow agent Romulus Perry said, “You ready?” Grimm nodded, adjusting his lapels and wiping away imaginary debris. He ran his hands through his perfectly salt and peppered hair, which was neatly cut short at the sides with equal amounts of gray and off black and varying shades in between. The color got gradually darker at top. The other agents often teased him about his perfectly coifed hair and took pictures of him with their phones to post on the walls in headquarters. Grimm looked more like a soap opera actor than an agent. At 36, he had been an agent for over 10 years. He twisted the 3 wedding bands he wore on his right middle finger, as a reminder he was not the marrying type. Grimm had to admit he was a little nervous. So much could go wrong with this assignment.

“Ok, we’re ready now, sir?” One of the technicians in the van said. “The agents are waiting for further instructions.” Grimm cleared his throat.
“We have some field agents at the location. They’ll give me a signal when the gunfire begins. We’re waiting for the tower to strike 2pm. We have a block ready for the cell phone towers in the area. The satellite will scramble all cell phone signals and all their land lines will be down for approximately 8 mins. I know that may not seem like a long time, but believe me it will be long enough to accomplish what we need. As you know we have been monitoring one Xavier Decastro, for quite some time now. We’ve let him do his business without incident as we have also let the Castillo Cartel do theirs. Agents, we are here to push forth the agenda. The war between these two cartels is going to work toward that end. We’ve already given the public the appetizer, now it’s time for the main course.”

The appetizer, as he so innocuously put it, happened 3 months earlier. The Russian mafia had taken over the city of Bethel in Northern California. Bethel’s big business was making electrical components and rebuilding engines, but due to outsourcing and alternative fuels, industry had long left the town. People moved out of the city to find work and many of local shops and business closed down because there were no customers. There wasn’t even a local paper, just an online newsletter or word of mouth kept the few remaining residents in the know. They lived off the radar for the past few years. Then members of the Russian mafia began to move in. Unlike other gangs, many in the Russian mafia were highly educated. It was not uncommon to have a master’s degree in engineering or a PhD. For them, Bethel was a town of their own; a good place to hide and to do business. There was a lot of abandoned property and not many people around to ask questions. They purchased the town’s multiplex, if you could call it that. It only housed 2 theatres, each with a seating capacity of 150. They purchased the restaurants, the stores, and the bed and breakfast; and re-opened them. Then they tried to purchase the law.

The police chief went missing along with most of his staff. Just like that…not a word. They were replaced by members of the ‘red family’. Aside from taxes, the Bethel’s new revenue was based on the production of meth, money laundering and the trafficking of women and young girls. The people’s army was dispatched to go in and clean house. It became a bloody battle; highly publicized, much debated and then quickly forgotten. Many of the remaining law abiding residents of Bethel moved out shortly after the mafia moved in, so the majority of the townspeople killed were either part of the mafia or there to do business. The rest were too old, sick or poor to leave, so most of the public didn’t care. Bethel was done – a ghost town where future tours will take sightseers for a small fee. Grimm and other agents had been watching Bethel from the beginning, starting with the beheading of the 56 year old mayor of the city.

After its run on talk radio and political news shows, the problems in Bethel were pushed aside for other more current events. The problem, as Grimm saw it; the issues in Bethel were not relative to the common man. It was a place no one had heard of, with people of the same gang killing each other or people of no significance in the broad sense of things. Though the beheading of the mayor was a little disturbing, it became miniscule in comparison to the news of America’s Pop Princess’ pregnancy and upcoming marriage.

The opportunity at Bromley would bring it home to the everyday man and woman. The Terrorist Act would be in the fore front of everyone’s mind and the people would beg for it. Agent Grimm called it ‘shepherding the people’. “Sheep are stupid,” he said “They go where the sheep herder leads them. It is our job to herd them into the direction we want them to go.”


*****

The Fantasma cartel was pulling up; each SUV heading to different entrances near west tower where Castillo lived or to where Manny’s was located. Xavier told them, no cell phones and no id. “We are ghosts”. They were to all get short haircuts and be clean shaven. No earrings. No rings. Nothing anyone could remember. Xavier was against tattoos; he believed it was better for business to blend. Those few with neck tattoos were told to cover them with make-up or they couldn’t be a part of taking down Castillo.

Angel sat in Escalade #3 in the backseat next to Xavier, who was fussing to make sure Angel’s Kevlar vest was on correctly. “It’s fine man,” Angel said, pushing Xavier hands away. “I probably won’t even need it.” Xavier was concerned about Angel’s position. He was to go to Leo’s building, get rid of the security guard then go upstairs to Leo’s penthouse and take care of his private security; probably just one or two guys and then take care of any guests happening to arrive there first before going to Manny’s. Angel would have 3 other guys to help him but Xavier wondered if Angel had the stones to do what needed to be done.

“You understand this means whoever walks in Castillo’s front door…a woman…a child…even if his nana walks in to change her depends underwear; you have to take care of it. Can you do that Angel?” Angel didn’t know if he could, but he nodded anyway. He didn’t want to disappoint his cousin and he knew it was important for the other members of the cartel to see him pull his own weight and not just ride on Xavier’s fumes.

All the men wore baggy one piece jumpsuits like construction workers or painters. Underneath the jumpsuits, they wore dark suits and white shirts with ties. They decided to go old-school with stocking masks hidden underneath their caps. They carried large canvas bags which appeared to carry work gear, but underneath the drop cloths, paint brushes and L rulers were semi automatic weapons, several varieties of hand guns with ammunition and dress shoes. There were still spots of Bromley being worked on, so it would not be surprising to see the contractors walking about.

The drivers were to use their vehicles to block parking lot entrances and exits or go to valet stations and stall the cars, making entry and exit difficult and causing distractions. The foot soldiers were getting to their locations and waiting for the tower to strike 2pm.

Angel’s 3 guys were, Ricky, Joseph and Lucas. They walked into the lobby of Castillo’s building. The guard on duty asked, “May I help you?”

“Yeah, we’re here to work on the penthouse. The new tenants want some painting done before they move in.”

“I wasn’t told about that. I didn’t even know the 2nd penthouse was sold. I’ll have to make a call to the realtor. She’s not on site today…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lucas said. He shot the guard in the neck. Blood spurted every where. The guard was still holding the receiver to his ear, when he fell back.

“Did you have to shoot him in the neck?” Angel asked.

“You said not to shoot into the uniform.”

“But look at all that blood man. You can’t wear that. The jacket is soaked. Ricky walked behind the counter and pressed down on the guards nostrils. The guard gasped for breath a few more seconds and then he slumped forward. Ricky looked through the open door behind the counter. “Hey, there’s a rack in there with some hanging uniforms.” Angel put up the ‘back in 10min sign’, he found at the end of the counter. He wiped the specks of blood and hung it outside and then locked the front door. The ground floor had security glass; they could see all the foot traffic outside, but none could look in. The guy’s threw away the sign-in sheet and all other blood soaked paper work and tried to wipe the blood off counter, but it just kept smearing. “Please just stop” Angel interrupted.

“We’re having a hard time getting all this blood up” Lucas said.

“It’s cool. You got enough of it. The wood is dark…it’ll dry up. Cut off that
overhead light. Nobody’ll see it. You and Ricky go in the back and put on a uniform. Lucas you stay down here. Ricky and Joseph, come upstairs with me.”
They unlocked the front door and took down the sign. Angel was concerned with leaving Lucas downstairs alone, but that was the plan. Best to stick to the plan. Angel hoped the time in the elevator would allow him to get in the right head space. He took a few deep breaths before the elevator doors closed.

Joseph put his gun up to shoot out the camera.

“What you doin man? We’re already on film. Shootin’ the camera won’t help. On the way out we’ll take care of the surveillance equipment. We can’t go around shootin’ up private property.” Joseph nodded.

Angel felt around his pockets for few ecstasy tablets he brought with him just in case he needed something to give his an edge. Xavier did not want his people using. ‘It makes you weak and stupid’, he’d say. In his head, Angel kept coming up with different scenarios; what if a child walked in. Could he do it? Angel slipped the tablet in his mouth and waited for crazy to set in.

Ricky knocked on the door. “It’s Security. There’s someone here who says they should be on the guest list, but I don’t see their name.” Angel and the others would be lucky today. The security in Leo’s penthouse weren’t his best. They were more like well paid security guards, except with nice suits and guns.

“So.”

“So…you’re Ramon right? Part of Castillo’s security. The guest asked for you by name.

Ramon barely got the door open. There were 3 security guys inside the penthouse. Because they thought it would be a ‘light’ day, they helped themselves to the well stocked bar. The alcohol lowered their instincts. They were easy to take down. Luckily the foyer floor was white marble. The non-porous surface made the blood easier to clean up this time. The guys had a large bag filled with clear plastic sheeting. They laid it out on the white carpet at the entry way of the living room; then they unlocked the front door and waited.

Xavier’s and his team, Spiro, Felix and Hector, were standing across the street from Manny’s in front of Victoria’s Secret. They went unnoticed by the majority, at best getting a few glances by the few. The other members also had taken up their posts at various locations: a few in the restaurant, some on the roof across from Manny’s.

Lucas called to announce the arrival for Mr. & Mrs. Philippe Caraman. They were on their way up. Angel quietly paced back and forth in kitchen, lightly touching the floor with the ball of his foot each time. He didn’t want to show his nervousness to the others…he didn’t want to appear scared. He pulled out his gun, then he put it back in his waistband and then he pulled it out again. “I can do this!” he kept saying to himself, hoping to get his adrenaline up. He wondered if the Caraman’s would be a young couple just starting out life. Or maybe an old couple, married 20 years; tired of each other’s routine conversations; same dinner choices; same card games with the same neighbors. He’d be doing them a favor…right? Angel felt blood rush to his face and worked hard to steady his eyes which had begun darting around the room. Finally the E was kicking in. “I can do this,” he said with great resolve, gun in hand and ready to go.

“Hello? We just want to drop off Leo’s birthday gift before we head off to the restaurant,” said the husband.
“And I really need to use the bathroom,” the wife added. “I always have to go to the bathroom”.

Angel, Ricky and Jasper came forward. “Wow, they really want to protect the carpet. Look at the size of this,” said the husband, looking at the plastic below their feet.
The wife was pregnant – maybe 6 months; the baby rested heavily on her bladder. ‘Damn it!” Angel thought to himself.

“You’re new,” she commented. There was an awkward silence. The husband defensively pulled his wife to him. “What?” she said.

She went first.

The bells rung. It was 2pm. Leo and most of his guests were out on the balcony. It was a beautiful day with just the right amount of breeze blowing against his cheeks. Leo’s nephew was close underfoot holding onto Leo’s pant leg; every step he took, the boy was close by. Xavier took out his gun first, letting it rest at his side. A young boy walking with his mother looked and said to her, “Look at the man on the corner with the AK.” She never looked up from her texting, “A what???” she said, clearly not paying attention to her son. The boy had stopped walking, pulling on his mom’s arm. Xavier raised his finger to his mouth, “Shhhh”.

Leo bent down to tell his nephew to go and play with the other kids inside. He then glanced across the street and noticed 4 men in beige jumpsuits. One of them looking very familiar. Xavier slowly pulled the stocking down over his face. He wanted Leo to see him. The other three pulled out their weapons and the people started screaming. Leo dropped his drink, pushing his nephew behind him, and reached for his gun. He never got it out his waistband. It took several bullets before Leo fell back on one of the tables, toppling it over. Xavier and his team were to hit the balcony and those trying to run out the front doors while the crew on the roof above them, were to take out the party guests on the 2nd floor. Some of Leo’s guys weren’t packing because it was a birthday party with their families. There was an unspoken rule, family events were off limits. Xavier was breaking the rules. He and his men continued to shoot out the entire restaurant and whoever wasn’t smart enough to duck.

Another team went to a near by security station. Overtaking it was easier than they thought. There were just 5 guys sitting around playing computer games. Xavier’s men disabled the surveillance equipment and cut feed to all the cameras covering the section of Bromley where they were staging their event. The stalled SUV’s did their job; traffic was impeded and the flow in and out was stopped.

Xavier wanted to make a big statement; not only to the Castillo cartel, but to any rising wannabe leader. This would be something remembered and talked about for years.

The stores had locked their doors and staff as well as customers hid in backrooms or under racks of clothing. Because this was a living community, none of the stores had metal security gates and glass store fronts made hiding difficult. The people unfortunate enough to be outside were hiding behind trash cans, kiosks or whatever was available. The rest were lying in the street in varying degrees of dead. A middle-aged couple who had just had the best meal early retirement money could buy, were still holding hands in front of the Barnes and Nobel. The store’s security guard wouldn’t open the doors for them. Banging on the glass, the couple pleaded to be let in. “No” the guard shook his head, before running to the back of the store to hide in the DVD section.

People kept trying to use their cell phones, no calls were going through. Those in the stores trying to use the landlines had the same luck. “All circuits are busy. Please try your call again.” Was the message all received. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. There were 8 minutes of screaming and chaos and then complete silence. Xavier had never felt such power.

*****


Agent Grimm watched the time closely and all of the agents watched him. The 8 minutes had now passed. A technician informed Grimm that the 911 calls were beginning to come in and police were being dispatched to Bromley.

“We’re on!” Grimm said. The agents were to wait a respectable amount of time, allowing the police the chance to get there first. “Remember, this is news to us. We heard about it over the wire. If anyone asks you, why you’re there, simply say you were called in to help.”

Agent Perry announced on walkie-talkie, “There is someone I’m looking for. The young man, who made all this possible; his number is 73624, Xavier Decastro. Please try not to kill him if possible. If you should come across number 73624, request me on channel 10. Perry glanced at Grimm. “Ok, men and women…let’s go.”

The police and SWAT teams along with ambulances from 3 hospitals and every fire truck in the community were there. The Fantasma’s had a few causalities, but most escaped. Many in the Castillo’s cartel were dead and the overall body count was rising It was estimated there were over 100 dead with almost the equal amount injured. A SWAT team went to Castillo’s home. They found the dead security guard in the back office and the 3 security members upstairs. In the guest bedroom, they found people neatly wrapped in plastic. It was noted, a husband and his expectant wife in one, and older gentleman in another and another man and his dog in the last.

Xavier and Raymond had split off from the other guys. Xavier told them in getting out of the community, travel in teams of 2. They had taken off there stocking masks and ditched the jumpsuits, revealing their dark suits underneath. They took off the work boots and slipped on the dress shoes. Groups of police had run past, mistaking some for agents and asking them to help out and man the exits. No one was to leave unless they had been questioned. The police scrambled to show they had things under control, but it was too many people for them to canvass.

The Fantasma cartel had studied the blue prints for Bromley. They needed to know where the weaknesses were so they could escape. Each team of 2 had separate exit points. They previously parked cars blocks away from Bromley and they agreed to meet up later. The Bromley parking structures for non residents was divided by seasons. Xavier and Raymond’s way out would be through the winter parking structure on level
1; at the northern corner between parking spots 126 and 127, there was a retaining wall. This was where one of five electrical mains was for Bromley. For air to circulate properly around the main, the wall could be no higher than three feet. Climbing over the wall, led them to a narrow walkway. This walkway was for the meter reader or electricians to gain access easily and quickly without having to go though the parking maze. At the end of the narrow walkway was a gate with a standard lock; easily picked by the tools in Xavier’s left breast pocket. Once outside the gate; they were to walk casually onto the street, blending in with the people on their way to the theatre to catch an afternoon play. The plan worked beautifully until they got to the narrow walkway.

“73624.” The voice called out from behind. Xavier stopped. He hadn’t heard that number called in a long time. He turned around. He didn’t recognize the nicely dressed, bald headed, black man a few feet away from him. Xavier eyes traveled upward. He wondered how a man of his size could move around so quietly. The man was holding a device. Xavier knew he had seen it before, but couldn’t remember where. Raymond reached for his gun. Agent Perry shot him in the chest. Xavier looked as Raymond lay next to him. ‘What the hell kind of bullet is that?” he wondered. He’d never seen a wound from a hand gun crack open someone’s chest before.

“You’re not with the police…are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Who’s crew you with?”

“The one you want to be on.”

Xavier felt something sharp hit his neck. Must be somebody behind me, he thought. “So you got the gate open. That’s cool.” Then down he went.