Page 32 of Operation: Silent Angel
Madison identified Ruiz’s next visitor before anyone else did. He entered the Preferred Club pool area wearing black dress pants, and a white linen guayabera shirt. He walked with purpose; his gaze fixed on Ruiz. He was Hispanic, in his late forties to early fifties, had a full head of black hair worn a bit longer, but combedback from his face. He had tats up and down both muscular arms and on both knuckles. And his left ear was pierced, and he wore a large diamond stud in it.
“Ruiz has company,” Madison reported as the man she’d been watching since he’d entered the pool area walked up to and stopped in front of Ruiz’s cabana.
“I’ve got him,” Mother said. “Conversation is in Spanish. Sounds like an initial meeting in person, they just introduced themselves to each other. The visitor introduced himself as el provedor.”
“The provider or supplier,” Madison translated.
“Ruiz just referred to him as esbirro, which describes someone who enforces rules or acts as a heavy,” Mother said. “El provedor laughed at that description.”
“I’d say it fits him,” Lambchop said. “He looks like an enforcer or a hitman.”
His visit was short and just before he stepped away, he said, “I look forward to doing business with you to acquire new product.” Mother relayed this to the team.
***
The car that Mac and Manuel were in turned around and headed back the way they’d come. In the rear-view mirror, a pickup truck approached quickly. “Shit, this isn’t good,” Manuel said.
Mac saw that Manuel’s eyes were on his rear-view mirror. Mac looked out the window, into the side mirror, and saw the black vehicle, speeding up on them. “Push that gas pedal to the floor.”
Manuel picked up speed. It didn’t matter. The pickup truck easily caught up to them. From a side road ahead, another pickup pulled onto the road, and came to a stop, blocking the way.
“Go around it!” Mac ordered.
“I can’t the drop off on the sides of the road is too steep. We’ll roll,” Manuel said as he braked hard. He cut the wheel so the car skidded sideways before it stopped, nearly missing the impending collision.
The black pickup that had been behind them pulled up sideways, blocking their car from going back the opposite direction. Before Mac could react, two men hopped from both pickup trucks. Mac initiated a video call on his phone. He yelled to the two men who approached his side of the car just as Yvette answered. “We’ve been detained on the road!” he said loud enough for everyone to hear as he held the phone up for them to see the screen. With his other hand, he held up his Interpol identification. “I’m with Interpol and you are impeding an investigation. We are on a video call with my director right now,” he announced. “If anything happens to me you can all be identified!” He didn’t give his name on purpose. “My investigation does not involve any known cartels or its members.” Then he repeated all he’d said in Spanish as he panned over all of the faces of the men who held guns on him and Manuel.
The four men froze. They didn’t know what to do. Three of them looked to the fourth, an older man with a scar on his forehead, over his right eye. Mac figured he must have been in charge. That man lowered his weapon but still held it at his side. The three other men followed suit.
“Look, jefe,” Mac said to that fourth man. “We took a wrong turn. We just want safe passage back the way we came.” He pointed in the direction that would bring them back to Cancun. “If you can secure that for us, I will owe you a favor at some point in time.”
A satisfied grin spread over his face. “Si, you may go. Do not forget this face. I will collect on that favor.”
Mac nodded. “You got it.”
One of the men got behind the wheel of the pickup that was blocking the road in front of them. He backed it up, creating enough space for their car to pass. Manuel shifted to drive and easily drove around the pickup. Manuel’s gaze stayed in the rear-view mirror. Mac’s was on the side mirror out his window. The men and the pickup trucks didn’t move and soon they were so far back, they couldn’t be seen. Only then did Mac breathe.
“We’re clear,” he said, bringing his screen in front of his face and taking in Yvette’s image on it. As always, she was his safety beacon. “Thanks, Control.”
“You and I are now burned,” she said. “Get back here ASAP. There’s a third visitor we’ll need followed and the DEA Teamthat brought Coop and the others in are following another guy. They won’t be back in time, I’m sure.”
“Our ETA is about forty minutes,” Mac said. “And I’d rather we get burned than Manuel and I get killed, which I can guarantee would have happened. We’ll make adjustments onsite so it won’t matter. And if I’m right about that place back there being this warehouse where Ruiz’s product is kept, we’ll raid it tonight and wrap this case up, so it really won’t matter that we’re burned. Were you able to get any eyes on that structure now? A lot can happen out there before the next pass of the satellite.”
“Yeah, especially now that they know you’re onto it,” Yvette said. “Let me make a call to Big Bear and see what he can pull off.”
“Let me know when you can,” Mac said. Then he ended the call.
“Fuck!” Yvette swore after the call ended with Mac. She dialed Shepherd.
“Are there new developments on site since your message?” Shepherd answered.
“Yes.” Yvette relayed to him the contents of her call with Mac and his request.
“Has the Digital Team identified this Hector yet, or which cartel he’s with?” Shepherd asked.
“Negative but take your pick. There are two known to operate in the Cancun area.”
Shepherd sighed. “I’ve hesitated calling in a favor to get the satellite re-routed as it could come with questions we don’t want to answer at this time. What percent are you sure human trafficking victims are at that location?”
