Page 68 of Saving Grace
“Answer me this. Do you actually have anything concrete to report? You were there for weeks before the bombing and yet you gave me nothing.”
“There were no dealings with the cartel or the Dixie Mafia. Your sources were wrong. I can hardly make up stuff to put in my report.”
“So, nothing? You wasted agency time and money down there with nothing to show.”
“There are rumors that El Segador is in the country and on a rampage.”
The silence was so protracted, I thought the line went dead.
“Elliot?”
“Who told you this?”
“Two of Troy’s men have been killed.”
“deLamar told you this?”
“Yes.”
“Where? When?”
“I don’t know where. A month ago,” I lied. And so, the game of cat and mouse began.
“And he said El Segador was responsible?”
“Yes,” I said. “From what I remember, he’s loyal to Hector Vargas, but I’m not sure if it’s more loyalty to Vargas himself or to the head of the cartel.”
“I’m not sure either, I’ll have to review the files,” Elliot replied. “The bulk of my attention right now is helping the DOJ build a case against Hector Vargas.”
“Then let me handle El Segador.”
“You think Vargas is communicating with him even while he’s in prison?”
“Could be or The Reaper is working on a kill list that had been contracted even before we captured Vargas.”
“We caught Vargas two years ago. Why is this happening now?”
“Maybe The Reaper had orders to eliminate anyone who could testify against his boss.”
“Why target deLamar’s men and not Troy himself?”
“Maybe the cartel still has use for Troy.” I’d been making this up as I went. Misinformation was a very important skill when doing covert work in the underworld. “Just because I haven’t found proof of current partnership doesn’t mean there wouldn’t be future association.”
“All right, I’ll re-enable your access. I’ll text you your new password.”
“Sounds good.”
“Let me know immediately if you find out anything.”
“Will do.”
I ended the call with Elliot without any guilt in withholding information. Even if his involvement with the new cartel leadership was a one-time deal, he was already in their pockets, and it would be easy to blackmail him to do more.
I glanced at the piece of paper Cassie had handed me that morning. Trent left with Colt and Lucas the day before for the nation’s capital to meet with Admiral Benjamin Porter—the architect of the proposed training camp and God knows how many clandestine operations. I had worked with him when we had infiltrated the Russian mob. He’d somehow manipulated Elliot to send me to Misty Grove after Troy. I wouldn’t be surprised if his main purpose was so I’d find out that the cartel’s accountant was prepared to run.
Apparently, the accountant and I weren’t the target of the bombing, but more like a bonus. Trent managed to wrangle some information from the Feds who were investigating the bombing. One of the ambulances had been found, but the importance of that find was way down on the FBI’s list of priorities. However, what was interesting were the traces of heroin discovered inside the vehicle. There wasn’t enough of a sample to discern if the heroin had been laced with fentanyl—its lethal cousin. With fentanyl-laced heroin flooding the market, there had been an exponential rise in heroin-related deaths in the country.
It was time to shut this down. Which was why, even if it wasn’t in the CIA’s realm to get involved, Porter found a way to make it his problem. He just needed people in the right places to take care of it. Namely, me.