Page 75 of All Twisted Up
I knew he was trying to lighten the mood, and as much as I appreciated it, offering him a half-hearted smile was about the only thing I could muster. I looked across the table at Captain Sorensen as I took the chair beside Nash. “Did you find out anything more about the Porsche?”
His expression screwed into a grimace. “Someone figured out we hacked into the vehicle’s GPS,” he grumbled, sipping coffee while forks scraped across plates as the others devoured the cake. “I think it’s safe to say the hacks on all the vehicles we were tracking have been neutralized.”
I hated the sound of the frustration in the captain’s voice, but I realized he was laying out the facts as he knew them. I suppose that’s how all professional military personnel operated. “Since the Porsche was owned by Agent Sibley, does that mean that the threat of a—what did you call him—a mole?” I asked. Nash nodded. “Does that mean that the mole is definitely working for the DEA?”
“That’s what Judy says, and from the data I saw, she’s right on the money,” Raven replied.
“What does that mean?” I asked. “How are we ever going to figure out who it is? Isn’t the DEA a huge federal agency?”
“It’s easy to answer your question about the DEA,” Agent Snow said. “Yes, they are a federal agency, but their purview is limited to drug crimes and they don’t have the size or reach of the FBI. And knowing that they’ve been infiltrated by the Los Toros Cartel, and perhaps even more importantly, the Sanchez Cartel, we have no trust in the DEA at all right now.”
“So, if I understand, the Los Toros Cartel are the ones who tried to kill my family?”
“Technically, yes, because the apartment where we found you and your friend was where they were holed up while their boss, Pedro Gomez, was staying prior to his meeting with the bigger dog, Juan Rojas. He’s the head of the Sanchez Cartel, which is the real threat here since they’re the bigger and badder of the two cartels. He’s the one who’s been working with whomever he has embedded with the DEA. Judy found evidencethat Rojas has been paying off someone in the agency for a long time which is one of the reasons we were called in when Candy needed backup.” Agent Snow paused for a moment. “And now…we think we know who the mole is.”
“Who is it?” Nash asked.
“SAC Bradley has had us investigating that for months,” Agent Prince said. He held up a hand when Nash opened his mouth to ask another question. “Let me finish, please.” When Nash nodded, he went on. “Ever since your team killed Oscar Castillo down in Grand Cayman, we’ve been following Juan Rojas who replaced him. It wasn’t easy because we suspected someone in the DEA was involved with the cartel and we’ve had to walk large circles around them and work wisely to stay off their radar. Just this evening, we made a discovery which breaks the case wide open.”
“And—” Mickey said.
“Fuck,” Napoleon Smith, the big, black agent nicknamed Snickers said. He seemed to be thrumming with energy, the kind of man who’d throw himself on a grenade to save others. Then again, I got that feeling about all the men Nash worked with. I dragged my gaze back to Nash who looked like he was gritting his teeth.
“Who the hell is it?” Nash asked, sounding like he was doing his best not to sound angry. I wondered if the rest of the men could hear it in his voice the way I could. I reached for his hand, twining my fingers in his. I would have savored the closeness if I had a minute to think about things. Now, though, all I could feel was anxiousness bleeding off him in waves.
“Judy is ninety-nine percent sure it’s Carson Turley,” Lincoln replied.
“You’re shitting me!” Nash shouted. He dropped my hand and shot to his feet. “That fucker has been working with the cartel the whole time?”
“Well, it makes sense, doesn’t it?” Captain Sorensen asked, frowning up at Nash. “He works for the DEA and was on the scene during the clean up after the Gomez raid when he would have supervised the DEA’s crime scene inside the cartel’s apartment. He probably found Mr. Calder’s driver’s license in the couch and identified him as a loose end before turning the license over to us. It would make sense as to why he was targeted by the cartel hit squad. Turley has access to the federal database, and—as it turns out—has access to the FBI’s list of safehouses because his team was working with us on a different case last month.”
Nash glared at his boss for a second and then turned to Special Agent Snow. “How long has Judy known this?”
To his credit, the agent glared right back and growled, “I’ll tell you if you’ll sit down, Special Agent Hampstead. Don’t forget we’re all on the same side here.”
I reached out to Nash, resting my hand on the small of his back. When he looked down at me, I felt his anger slowly bleeding away. He reached for my hand and I took it, holding on tight until he retook his seat. His fingers curled around mine, resting our hands on his muscled thigh as he cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Hampstead,” Captain Sorensen said. “I’d feel the same frustration if I were personally invested in Mr. Calder’s safety, but we need to keep cool heads here to figure out what Turley’s next move is.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied, letting what the captain said about Nash being personally invested in me slide by without comment.
“Our team decided to ask someone we trust what he knows about Juan Rojas and the Sanchez Cartel now that we know it’s been him and not Pedro Gomez’ team behind the attempts on Mr. Calder’s life,” Agent Snow said.
“Who’d that be, Lincoln?” Patsy asked.
“Trevor Willis.”
I felt a sudden lightness in the tension at the table and turned to Nash. “Who’s Trevor Willis?”
“Special Agent Trevor Willis is a man who was working undercover for the DEA for a long time,” Nash said. “We met him earlier this year when he was nearly killed during a raid we conducted on the Sanchez Cartel’s headquarters. During the raid, the boss of the cartel was killed and as we could have predicted, another snake simply rose in the ranks to replace him. That’s Juan Rojas.”
I nodded, searching his eyes for a few seconds before looking back at Agent Snow. “That was the one you guys were talking about before?” He nodded. “So, what did Special Agent Willis tell you about Mr. Turley?”
“He said he was introduced to Turley at a cartel party in Mexico about a year ago,” Snow replied. “At the time, Agent Willis didn’t know who Turley was, only that he was a friend of the cartel bosses, but when I showed him Turley’s picture, he identified him as the man with Juan Rojas at the party.”
“How did Turley not recognize Trevor Willis?” Nash asked. “They both work for the DEA.”
