The Covert Element (24 page)

"There is no way to know this for certain. He was Mexican.
Who else would do this thing to
Los Cinco
but
Los Zetas
? Who
would know of this small farm?"

"Well . . . you were able to locate the
Cinco
drug house. And the
Zetas
certainly would be their natural enemy. Perhaps the
Zetas
also had spies inside
Los Cinco
."

I pondered the issue about which Gunner and I had spoken –
how does one man kill twenty-three in this manner?

"Had you seen this man before?"

"No, Señor."

"What did he look like?"

"As I tell you, he was Mexican. Maybe one point seven meters
tall. He wore a uniform, like a soldier . . . but this clothing is
common in the cartels. That is all I could tell in the darkness. I saw
him light the house to fire. Then he disappear across the house from
me. I could not see his car, if he drove one.

"After he made the fire, I must leave to stay hidden from
American
policía
. I knew they would come."

"Don’t you have an American passport from when you were in
the Rangers?"

"
Si
. But I was back and forth to Mexico illegally. I had already
killed many cartel soldiers. No
policía
are my friends."

Fuentes’ story was credible, at least in that it corroborated the
"single gun theory," which implied a single assailant, which is what
Fuentes saw.

"Señor Fuentes, a different scenario just came to my mind. I’d
like to get your thoughts. Okay?"

"
Si
. Ask the questions."

"Is it possible the killer was not a
Zeta
, but a
Cinco
?"

"Why would
Los Cinco
kill its own men? Burn its own drug
factory?"

"A traitor, perhaps? Or maybe a
Zeta
that infiltrated the
Cincos
at a fairly high level?"

Fuentes considered what I had asked.

"The cartels, they have traitors, of course. And spies, also. But
this man, he must need top secret information from inside
Los
Cinco
. Most soldiers would know nothing of
el Proyecto de
Minnesota
. This does not seem to me likely.

"But if this killer
is
Cinco
, that is good . . . for then the house is
divided against itself." Fuentes allowed a smile at that thought.

"If the traitor has already destroyed the Minnesota Project, that
should be the end of our problems . . . at least in Minnesota." Mine
was half question and half statement.

"
Lo siento, Señor
. I am sorry. But
el Proyecto de Minnesota
is
not one small house only. There is a place . . . I do not know where .
. . one other, and much bigger, facility. This is a part of what I heard
at the
Cinco
villa.

"I have fear that there will yet be more killing and more drug-making before Minnesota is safe once again."

I was afraid the Sergeant was right.

"So where do you go from here? You said you were chasing the
drug cartels. What’s your next move?"

Fuentes looked at Bull as he spoke.

"I must find the big drug factory and destroy it. I will need
help."

I knew the question was not directed toward me. But I needed
to speak.

"Sergeant. I recognize that you’ve been fighting the cartel for
many years. I assume that your tactics have been appropriate to the
situation in Mexico. But in the U.S., surely you must realize that the
rules of engagement are different. You can’t just blow up a drug
factory. Doing so would get you, and us, in big trouble with the
governmental authorities.

"If we help you take out this facility, we’d have to do it with the
help of law enforcement. They would shut down the lab and arrest
the guilty parties. I know many law enforcement officers personally.
I can vouch for their honesty and dedication. They are not on cartel
payrolls. The appropriate arrests would be made."

Fuentes was shaking his head in disagreement.

"And when the
policía
. . . the honest
policía
. . . arrest the
cartel soldiers, what will then occur? I will tell you. The Americans
will return the illegal
Cincos
to Mexico. This is what America does.
It does not pay for food and lodging for Mexican illegals in
American prisons.

"I promise what I speak is truth. If you have friends in the
policía
, you can learn for yourself.

"And if the cartel members come again in Mexico, they will
make drugs there. And they will kill my people. And they will rape
our women. And I will fight them all over again.

"You know, Señor Beck, that this is truth I am speaking."

I had to concede that Fuentes was right. With government
budgets already stretched thin, ICE would very likely return the
illegal Mexicans to the Mexican government for prosecution. Given
the widespread corruption of Mexican officials, the prisoners would
quite possibly find their way back to the cartels. New duties would
be assigned. The cartel would carry on business as usual, perhaps
with even greater brutality and zeal to make up for losses on the
American operation.

"Sergeant. You can’t expect Bull and me to help you blow up a
drug factory. You may be only a visitor here and may have
somewhere to which you could escape. We would be imprisoned for
life. I sympathize with your need to fight the cartels. And I would
even help you do so. But your plan is not acceptable. Not in the
U.S."

Fuentes frowned.

"I understand that this way of fighting, Señor Beck, is not
something normal in Minnesota. Red Feather and I will deal with
Los Cinco
without you. Only you must not betray us to
policía
,
Señor Beck. Red Feather has sworn by your secrecy. You must not
break this confidence."

I looked at Bull.

"Bull. You know you can’t help Fuentes follow through with
this plan to blow up the drug facility. We’ve cut corners before. But
this . . . this is insane. You can’t seriously be considering aiding in
this man’s terrorism."

I didn’t think Bull would join in such a plan. But then, this was
his former Sergeant. Military bonds are strong. Sometimes stronger
than blood.

Bull looked at me.

"Sarge and I’ll talk some more." Bull stood up and walked to
the door, then stood there, waiting for me to leave.

I took the hint.

"I won’t say anything to the police," I said to Fuentes. "You
came to me in confidence. I will respect that burden."

As I reached the door, I whispered to Bull. "This is madness. I
don’t care what kind of past you have with this guy, his soul is
twisted. He isn’t thinking rationally. Don’t let him drag you into his
nightmare."

"You should leave now. We’ll talk."

I had no idea if that meant he would talk with me or Fuentes or
both.

"Call me," I said, as I crossed to my car.

Bull closed the door behind me.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Bringing an international crime syndicate to its knees is no
simple task, as any FBI RICO investigator will attest. Identities and
locations of syndicate personnel alone will seldom do the job. As
long as the syndicate’s infrastructure – its assets, its sources of
income, its chain of command – remains, there is little to prevent
successors from picking up the reins where their predecessors left
off. This is why law enforcement has failed to eradicate organized
crime in the United States, despite concerted efforts and
considerable expenditures.

Raphael Santos knew how hard it would be to bring down
Los
Cinco
. He knew that wiping out
el Proyecto de Minnesota
would be
a financial blow to the cartel. But mere destruction of this single
factory, albeit a large one, would do little to disrupt the cartel’s
income stream, or to diminish its multi-billion dollar coffers.

That is why the Minnesota attack would be only the tip of his
spear . . . the wound from which
Los Cinco’s
lifeblood would begin
to spill. The death blow would follow swiftly thereafter.

From the time that Enrique Calderon had taken Santos into his
confidence, Santos had been counseling the old man regarding
cartel business. Calderon held cartel assets in his own name in
many places. Santos cautioned him against the dangers of this
practice, recommending instead the use of dummy corporations
and limited partnerships.

"With the many companies owning cartel lands and
investments," Santos had said, "it will not be possible for the
Federales
to seize cartel assets, even if the Calderon name comes
under attack." In point of fact, Santos’ advice would normally be
good business practice. And it would, indeed, help protect cartel
assets from government seizure. But the asset restructuring also
allowed Santos to learn the extent and location of all cartel
holdings, be they lands, bank accounts or other investments. And
with such knowledge came great power.

To further solidify Santos’ insider position, he had convinced
Calderon to direct his Chicago lawyer to include Raphael as an
officer and director of the dummy corporations. In truth, Calderon
did not enjoy managing the cartel’s wealth. He took pleasure in the
wealth itself and power that came with it. But he detested
bookkeeping and was most pleased to delegate the task to his
trusted nephew.

This financial maneuvering, conducted years earlier, now
facilitated the decimation of cartel assets that was soon to come.

More than assets, though, control of the corporations brought
with it information regarding business contacts – most of whom
were drug suppliers or drug dealers.
Los Cinco
had done very well
for itself in the middleman business. Other than
el Proyecto de
Minnesota
, the cartel actually produced little of what it sold.
Marijuana fields were subject to fly-over pesticide attacks, mostly
conducted by the U.S. military with tacit Mexican Government
approval. Coca plants did not grow well in the arid climate under
Los Cinco
control, and were subject to the same vulnerabilities as
marijuana. Even if the Americans did not destroy the crops,
competing cartels could burn or steal them before harvest.
Los
Cinco
had chosen to limit its crop growing operations, leaving the
Colombian farmers to deal with such risky matters.

 Meth labs, on the other hand, were easier to conceal, and
therefore, more commonly maintained by
Los Cinco
itself. Although
meth was a growing part of the drug business, it would probably
never realize its full distribution potential for two reasons. The drug
had a distinctive smell that seemed to permeate whatever packaging
Los Cinco
used to conceal it. As a result, border patrols routinely
seized large quantities of meth before it could reach its markets.

The other reason was that it was easy for the American drug
users to manufacture their own supplies – at least in small
quantities. They couldn’t make enough to re-sell by the pound. But
since they could produce for their personal use, the demand for
bulk meth would never be fully realized until its availability and
pricing became more favorable to the users . . . favorable enough to
outweigh the dangers of operating their own labs.

El Proyecto de Minnesota
would solve both of these problems
for the cartel. Because the drug was "Made in the USA," there would
be no border crossing to contend with, and therefore, no seizures to
drive up operating costs. As a result, the street price for meth could
be reduced without cutting into cartel profits. With literally tons of
affordable meth available from dealers, only the most hardcore
users would continue to run the risks associated with self-production. The meth industry could blossom as
Los Cinco
intended.