Charles Henderson - Terminal Impact

“You think Cesare might try to kill me?” Liberty asked, a pang of anxiety hitting her.

“Definitely if he regards you as a threat,” Kendrick said, going back to his desk and Liberty returning to her seat. “Here’s a little story, and we’re still looking at this pretty close.

“A month ago, a Marine Scout-Sniper died in Wisconsin. Seems he and his wife had gone home on leave and went out dancing with friends. The Marine went to the bar to refill their beer pitcher and never came back.

“In a little while, sirens and cops outside brought out the crowd. The Marine had apparently wandered onto the highway, supposedly in a drunken stupor. A passing motorist, a fellow from China who spoke little to no English, had hit the Marine, stopped, and reported the accident.

“Now, interestingly, the wife and friends all emphatically say that the Marine was not drunk when he left to get the beer. Not even tipsy. They had danced more than drank, so it makes me wonder, too.

“Anyway, not much of an investigation followed. Country sheriff in the middle of Wisconsin and all. Naval Criminal Investigative Service wrote it off as just another alcohol-related fatality. The lad was put to rest and the books closed on his death. However, the Commandant of the Marine Corps doesn’t like how the case smells and asked us to take a look, especially with the background behind this guy.

“You read about the security supervisor who sport shot the two Iraqi civilians?”

Liberty nodded yes. “Taxi driver in Baghdad and later that day near the airport a delivery-van driver.”

“This Marine staff sergeant had gotten out of the Marine Corps and went to work for Malone-Leyva, knocking down five hundred dollars a day. He’s one of three eyewitnesses who saw the supervisor murder the cab driver and the delivery driver. He and his partner, a former Army Ranger, reported the incident to their boss, Cesare Alosi, and he fired them all, including the supervisor who committed the murders. Swept everything under the rug.

“So, the Marine and the Ranger launch a wrongful-termination lawsuit against Malone-Leyva. Their only option to bring the murders into the light of day. Iraq isn’t investigating and doesn’t care. State Department won’t touch it, and Defense Department doesn’t want anything to do with it, either. So, the civil lawsuit is their only route to justice for the murders. That drags on, you know the legal-paper drills, and the boy needs a paycheck, so he returns to Marine Corps active duty. He had kept his Marine Corps Reserve options open, you see. Just in case things didn’t work at Malone-Leyva. Smart boy.

“The Marine also shared the details of all this with a Marine Scout-Sniper officer friend of his, along with a few other Marines in the sniper community. This officer is a close pal of Senator Jim Wells, and brings all this information to the senator’s attention. This raises the hackles of Malone-Leyva, they go after the Marine officer with a few legal endplays in federal court that don’t work. So they illegally tap the Marine officer’s phone lines and data stream and intercept the communications between him and Senator Wells. Private communications between a citizen and a United States Senator. Yes, very illegal. And the Marine officer’s attorney, who successfully defends his client’s privacy against Malone-Leyva, uncovered this skullduggery, informing his client of it, the judge, and Senator Wells, who is livid to this day.

“At any rate, last month, when the Marine staff sergeant and his wife go home to Wisconsin for some family time, he ends up dead. Likewise, any other witnesses to the purported murders also clam up, and everything goes away, except for the one very pissed-off United States senator who would love to run up and disk Malone-Leyva.”

Liberty let out a deep breath. “Very convenient accident.”

“Very convenient indeed,” Kendrick said. “Alosi and Victor Malone are smart, but invariably the bad guys always leave something stupid behind. Some little splinter, and it takes them down. But in the meantime, you need to keep your head on a swivel and take no chances. Like Senator Wells and the commandant, I believe Malone and Alosi iced the staff sergeant, and they will not hesitate to do you, too.”

“Don’t worry, sir,” Liberty said. “Alosi’s smart but not that smart, and he’s a bit of a gunslinger, impulsive.”

“True, Alosi’s careful, but you’re right. He does get a little impulsive when his buttons get pushed.” Kendrick nodded. “Victor Malone, on the other hand, he’s much more cautious and never impulsive. He’d make it look like an accident. I suspect he personally arranged our Marine’s death in Wisconsin. But would they kill you, an FBI agent? Yes. Especially Malone. His wife is Enrique Leyva’s sister.”

“Enrique Leyva? I’m not familiar with him,” Liberty said.

“At first glance, a well-respected Mexican businessman on the outside, but behind that front, he heads a drug cartel based in Matamoros, Mexico, that extends along the border to Nuevo Laredo and down to Monterey,” Kendrick said. “Along with far-reaching relationships with powerful Mexican leaders, Leyva has strong ties with the likes of El Chapo Guzman and his Sinaloa organization, and Los Zetas.”

“I’ve heard my mother talk serious stuff about Sinaloa and Los Zetas both,” Liberty said. “She’s spent nearly all her DEA career at El Paso Intelligence Center. She’s told some really terrible stories about the Zetas, especially in the past few years.”

“Bloody sons of bitches, excuse my French,” Kendrick said. “They contract out to other cartels as enforcer death squads from Juarez to the Gulf Coast.”

“So I’ve heard,” Liberty said.

“At any rate,” Kendrick said, “Victor Malone lives in a castle outside McAllen, Texas. I mean it is literally a castle. They say he’s got a full body mount of an African bull elephant in his den, along with mounts of every other kind of dangerous or exotic animal. Polar bears, cheetahs, you name it. Literally a castle filled with dead animals. I’m a hunter, but I was taught to kill for food. To shoot a living creature to make a wall decoration? I’m sorry, but that takes a very inadequately equipped human being, if you get my drift.”

Liberty laughed. “Oh, yes, sir. The guy with the big truck and little boots.”

Kendrick laughed. “Well, yeah. Then I do drive a big black Ford Super Duty diesel four-by-four.”

“Sir, you’ve got some very big boots.” Liberty smiled. “We do have exceptions.”

“Yes we do.” Kendrick smiled. “However, my point about Victor Malone stands. He’s a very dangerous, very wealthy man who holds no boundaries and zero ethics. And he has some extremely dangerous in-laws south of the border.”

“Then, sir. If you don’t mind me asking. How did he land a government security contract?” Liberty asked.

“Like the rest of these scumbag mercenary contractors,” Kendrick said. “Victor Malone makes big campaign contributions to members of Congress, and even the president. For too many politicians, all money’s green.”

“I better get my laundry done,” Liberty said, leaving her coffee cup on the side table and checking her watch. “Back here for a 1400 launch?”

“Yes, but I want to see you and your team at 1330,” Kendrick said. “I’ve got your guys drawing your weapons and gear right now. You just need to get yourself back here pronto, ready to travel.”

“Yes, sir,” Liberty said, heading for the door.

“By the way, Agent Cruz. That boyfriend of yours, Gunnery Sergeant Jack Valentine,” Kendrick said.

Liberty stopped. “I didn’t think you were watching me.”

Kendrick shrugged. “I do keep tabs on my people. Are you surprised, or offended?”