Chapter Twelve
MIGUEL
“You should probably explain what you mean, Damon,” I said.
“We’ve been keeping an eye on all of these folks ever since our conversation with you and Raven,” Cassidy said. “Damon still has friends at the CIA and you know how helpful Mark Evans has been in the past.”
“We’ve had a lot of help on this case, Miguel,” Lincoln added. “We’ve been reluctant to use other federal resources as well as LAPD resources because we’ve wanted to keep the knowledge about our surveillance with this group tight, so we asked Damon.” He gestured to the folks at the table.
I frowned, glancing at Cassidy. “Well, that’s a lot to unpack. Let’s start with the LAPD. Why don’t we want to use them?”
“We all agree that there’s a leak at the LAPD,” Mike said. “But let’s start with what we’ve learned about the FBI.”
“Why?”
Noah cleared his throat and when I looked at the laptop, he’d turned to Judy. He glanced back to the camera. “You know the agent who kicked you in the head?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Kind of hard to forget,” Raven answered, reaching over to rest a hand on my forearm.
“Judy decided to look into him.”
“I thought he was being investigated by the FBI’s Office of Professional Responsibility,” Raven said.
“He was but they’ve concluded their investigation,” Noah replied.
“And?” I asked.
“He was found to have acted with unnecessary force and he’s been put on unpaid administrative leave for a period of ninety days.”
“That’s it?” Raven practically shouted.
I covered his hand with mine, feeling the tension in him thrumming right below the surface. He relaxed at my touch.
“He had an exemplary record with the FBI prior to that incident, so they put him on leave rather than just firing him outright,” Lincoln said. “I think it’s bullshit, but sometimes that’s what happens with FBI politics, Raven.”
I looked back at the screen. “So, what did you turn up, Judy?”
“Well, I decided to do a deep dive into him after I was told what the FBI concluded and I found something that OPR either overlooked or buried,” she said excitedly.
“We’re on the fence whether OPR actually buried it or not,” Mac said, turning to us. “Normally those guys act by the book. The FBI turns to them for all internal investigations into agent conduct.” He nodded at the screen. “Tell Raven and Miguel what you found, Judy.”
“I looked into everything I could find. On paper, the guy is squeaky clean, and he obviously passed the extensive FBI background check when he was hired because agents need high level security clearances. His wife, however, didn’t have the same scrutiny into her background.”
I frowned at Lincoln. “Don’t federal employees’ families get investigated when they’re being considered for clearances? Some of you carry a TS-SCI clearance.”
“All FBI agents do, but what you’re read in on, varies on a case-by-case basis. An agent might be cleared to receive classified information about a particular terrorist if you’re on that case, but you might not be read in on the same intel for a different case.”
“Eyes only you mean,” Raven said.
Lincoln smiled at him. “That’s right. The short answer to Miguel’s question is yes, if you’re an FBI agent, you have to pass a rigorous background check. OPR used to conduct those checks but with a recent executive order, that responsibility has been transferred to the Department of Defense’s Defense Counterintelligence and Security Agency, also known as DCSA.”
“You guys and your acronyms,” Raven said, rolling his eyes.
Lincoln nodded. “Regardless, they look into everything in your life, not only your financials. They go back and talk to your neighbors, your friends, your acquaintances. They look at everyone who you’re connected with now or were ever related to in your past.”
“That’s what I thought,” I said. Turning to Judy, I asked, “So, what happened?”
“Roy Cabe—that’s the name of the agent—recently remarried. His first wife was investigated when Cabe was hired by the FBI but for whatever reason, the second wife never was.”
“In our defense, there is a big backlog, what with a whole new Presidential administration coming in, and the need to clear all the political appointees because of the current transfer of agencies. That switch only aggravated the problem.”
“For fucks sake,” Raven growled. “So let me guess, Cabe’s new spouse, has some kind of ties to the cartel or something?”
“Yes,” Judy said. “Her brother is believed to be a mid-level guy in the cartel.”
“Okay, so assuming this Roy Cabe was such a good FBI agent in the past, why did he turn bad all of a sudden?” I asked.
“We think they offered him huge money to do really mundane work, and that led to more and more. You know how these things work,” Lincoln said.
I nodded.
“Eventually, that led to him leaking where a cartel witness was going to be. Whether it was through blackmail or threats, we don’t know. We do know that Roy Cabe has disappeared. No one in the agency can find him anywhere. On Friday, he and the new wife vanished.”
“They’re dead?” Raven asked.
“Well, he most certainly might be,” Mac said. “The cartel got what they needed from him and they no doubt learned of his suspension. So when he was ordered to stay home until OPR cleared him, the cartel probably did what they do best.”
Raven looked horrified and I couldn’t blame him. It took some mighty big balls to disappear an FBI agent and his wife, even if the wife was related to someone in the cartel.
“I can honestly say, Cabe was in a really bad place,” Lincoln said. “The minute he began working for the cartel, he knew it was only a matter of time before his ticket would be punched.”
He turned back to me. “Who knows? Maybe when he saw you coming out of the store with your gun drawn, he saw it as a perfect opportunity to prove his loyalty to the FBI. He didn’t know who Miguel was, just saw him as Mexican. He came up with the story about thinking he was a cartel thug and justified his actions to the FBI as having made the mistaken identity while acting with too much adrenaline during the takedown. Either way he was screwed. If the cartel didn’t kill him, he’d lose his job and possibly go to jail. I could almost feel sorry for the guy if you hadn’t been hurt.”
I nodded. “Can you prove the money part? I mean, his bank accounts would have had to look clean when OPR investigated him, right?”
“Yes,” Noah said. “And OPR did look into them. They just didn’t find the Cayman Islands account that Judy was able to, because it was in the new wife’s name. It was one of the things that led her—” He nodded toward Judy. “You tell it.”
“I did a deep dive into the wife’s finances and found a hundred and fifty thousand dollars in an account in her name. It was deposited the day Rufus Modelo escaped from the FBI’s safehouse.”
I sat back, stunned. “So, this FBI guy really was dirty. How does an incorruptible FBI agent suddenly decide to follow his new woman’s wishes?”
“I suspect there were threats to children he shares with his first wife,” Lincoln said. “They live in Maryland and have always had a good relationship with their dad. He got along well with his ex as well.”
I looked back at the screen when Agent Burgess started speaking. “Judy and I couldn’t find anything there, no threats in email or anything else, but that doesn’t mean anything. When Rufus Modelo turned on the cartel and became a cooperating witness, he told the FBI that the cartel boss, Oscar Castillo, made all his people carry untraceable burner phones. Cabe was probably given one by his new wife. Hell, she may have even delivered the threat.”
“Great marriage,” Raven muttered.
“She probably targeted him, Raven,” Lincoln said. “That’s how these things work. She could have made him think he couldn’t live without her and once they were married, the threats were delivered and he flipped sides, becoming the FBI’s inside man for the cartel.”
“Jeez…that’s just frightening,” Raven said.
“So, going back to the LAPD,” I said to Cassidy. “Why do you think there’s a problem there also?”
“We can’t be sure,” he replied, exchanging a glance with Mike. “When we looked into the murder of Dave Reynolds, one of the first places we looked was at his friends and acquaintances.”
“It turns out one of the reasons he was a good insurance investigator was that he had a lot of friends with the LAPD. In fact, he was a cop himself until he got hurt on the job and decided to retire from the force,” said Mike.
“So, Dave Reynolds was dirty too?” I asked.
“I couldn’t find any evidence of that,” Judy was quick to add, “and believe me, I looked. What I was able to find was that he liked to go to a cop bar after work hours and drink with his buddies from the force. With friends in the LAPD, he’d be in a position to learn things that helped him with the lawyer’s cases. It could be that he opened his mouth and let slip the work he was doing for Gregory Aston. If a cop on the cartel’s payroll happened to overhear him, then it might have led to his death.”
I had to smile at that. It was clear to me that our dear, sweet Judy, had turned into quite the law enforcement junkie. She even had the lingo down to a tee. Still, I had a question. “Don’t investigators working for law firms have to maintain attorney client privilege just like the lawyers?”
“Yes,” Mike replied, “but that doesn’t mean he didn’t accidentally screw up when he had a few drinks in him. It’s been known to happen.”
“That makes sense,” I conceded. “And that information, just might have gotten him killed.”
“Sadly, yes,” Cassidy agreed.
“So, Gregory Aston didn’t have Dave Reynolds killed after all?” Raven asked. “I really wanted to hate Aston.”
“We can’t know for sure, Raven,” Cassidy said. “But it is a possibility that he’s really and truly innocent in all of this and just a real prick in a thousand-dollar suit but there’s still a lot to hate him for…working for a cartel comes to mind. As for the rest, we’ll just have to wait and see how deep all this shit goes.”
“So, there’re most likely leaks in the LAPD and the FBI, but why do you guys think Aston, Leopard, and Trevor are down in the Cayman Islands?” I asked.
Judy cleared her throat. We all turned to look at the laptop. “Noah and I have been exploring everything we can with those guys. It seems that Trevor—his full name is Trevor Sunset Willis, by the way—has ties to the cartel through an ex-lover.”
“Sunset?” Raven snorted. “Did I hear you right? His middle name is Sunset?”
I shook my head in total agreement.
Judy grinned. “Anyway…Trevor Sunset Willis was born thirty-four years ago to hippies. He probably earned the moniker because his parents were living on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood at the time.”
“Oh, my God.” I reached up and touched my forehead because all this shit was giving me a headache. Maybe I was going to need those painkillers after all.
“Are you okay?” Judy frowned.
“Just a little bit of a headache,” I said. “Go on, Judy. What about Trevor’s ties to the cartel?”
She nodded. “He was arrested at Heathrow airport two years ago.”
“What does that have to do with the cartel?” Raven asked. “Was he smuggling drugs for them or something?”
“He was accompanying a Sanchez Cartel mule who was caught with a large amount of cocaine which was eventually tied back to the cartel. The Brits didn’t know that at the time, though. All they wanted was Trevor and the mule in jail in London. The cartel mule pled guilty to drug trafficking and is currently a guest at HM Prison Wormwood Scrubs in West London. His sentence was knocked down to five years because of the guilty plea. Trevor was let off with a lighter sentence because he was only a traveling companion. He served six months, was taken into immigration custody, sent back to the U.S., and is barred from visiting England for ten years.”
“I can’t believe it!” Raven said. “First of all, Trevor looks like he’s barely legal. I mean, when he sat there beside Brian Leopard in our office, you would have thought he was jailbait. Thirty-four is older than me. Secondly, you should have seen him. He was on his phone the entire time Leopard was talking about the recovery he wanted to hire us for, scrolling like a teenager. The only time he looked up was to call Brian ‘Daddy.’ I’m pretty sure I threw up in my mouth at least three times.”
“Well, sorry to hear about all that, but the truth is, Willis is thirty-four with a long rap sheet here in California, mostly drug and solicitation arrests,” Noah said. “When he was a kid he got into a bunch of scrapes with other Mexican kids, reportedly because someone outed him in middle school. He got kicked out by his parents, got put in the foster system, ran away multiple times, turning tricks on the streets, and eventually ended up in an overcrowded group home.”
I shook my head. “A gay, Mexican kid who had no place to go.” I looked at Cassidy and Mike. They were watching me. If it hadn’t been for the two detectives I now called friends, I could have ended up exactly like Trevor.
Judy was reading from notes or a device in her hands. “Once in the group home, Willis started getting into fights. He was seen by doctors multiple times at Good Samaritan Hospital for unexplained injuries, even a couple of broken bones, suspected rapes. You know the drill. By the time he was eighteen, he’d been arrested for prostitution and drugs, sent to juvenile hall several times.
“He was finally able to get put on probation through California’s Prop 36 which allowed low-level drug offenders to be granted probation provided they sought drug treatment and regularly checked in with their probation officer. Willis was clean for several years and then suddenly he was arrested during a DEA drug sweep outside a popular gay club. He was jailed with a lot of guys who no doubt included some connected to the cartel which dealt drugs there. Legal representation came from none other than Gregory Aston.”
“The DEA?” I asked.
“No shit,” Raven echoed my surprise. “The guy must be slipperier than a fish. He should be serving federal time.”
“He probably didn’t have any drugs on him at the time, so Aston got him off…no pun intended,” Judy said, cringing so hard I had to smile.
“True,” Lincoln said. “But it’s not too much of a stretch to believe that Aston hooked him up with the cartel to mule or at the very least travel with a mule for the cartel after that happened.”
“Wow, that’s crazy,” I said.
“To answer your earlier question, Raven, at the very least, Gregory Aston is still connected to the cartel because he’s their lawyer.”
“Right.” Raven nodded. “So, how does Brian Leopard figure into all of this and why would you think he’s in this house owned by Castillo in the Cayman Islands? I want to believe he’s an innocent in all this mess, because I didn’t get the bad guy vibe from him at all.”
“We don’t think he’s a bad guy either, Raven,” Mac replied.
I turned to look at the big man.
“We think he was lured there, perhaps by Tawny Flores.”
“She’s involved in all this after all?” Raven asked.
Noah held up both hands. “No. We don’t believe Tawny Flores or Brian Leopard have anything to do with the cartel. We think Gregory Aston went down to the Caymans to speak to the banker who’s the gatekeeper for the account with the fifty million Castillo wants back.”
“I found a plane ticket in Gregory Aston’s name and an appointment for him to meet with a banker at the institution where the funds are being held,” Judy said.
“So…he was able to break Tawny Flores’ trust fund?” I asked.
Noah shook his head. “He’s been unable to do that. Judy and I found all the court filings and pleadings regarding the trust, and so far, nothing has gone his way. Benedict Flores was a savvy businessman. He knew what he was doing when he planted the cartel’s money in the Caymans, and it most likely got him killed for his effort.”
“So, Aston just thought he’d talk this Cayman Island banker into opening up the vault and handing him the cartel’s money?” I asked.
“He’s probably been feeling the pressure from Castillo for a long time,” Lincoln said. “Yes, he’s been the cartel’s attorney, but he also knows where some of the bodies are buried. Dave Reynolds death by a cartel bullet is proof of that, but we need more than speculation to arrest Castillo.”
“But still, it makes Aston dangerous to the man,” I replied.
Lincoln nodded. “Yes. Aston probably thought he had one last shot at staying alive, so he flew down there three days ago. That, Noah and Judy have confirmed.”
“That sounds like a Hail Mary,” I said.
“It’s probably the only shot he had,” Raven said. “If I knew I was about to get a bullet to the back of my head or worse, to die the way Dave Reynolds did, I’d sure as hell make the trip. I’d guess he has wealth of his own, so maybe he planned on bribing the banker. Who knows?”
I nodded, then said to Lincoln, “Following that logic, do you think Aston called Tawny to come down to the Caymans by telling her that he’d gotten access to the money?”
“That’s exactly what we think,” he said, nodding. “She, Brian Leopard, and her boyfriend, Salvatore Mancuso, took a cartel plane to the Cayman Islands the day after Aston was to meet with the banker. Our guess is that Aston met with pushback from the banker, who was then threatened, because Castillo is sick and tired of waiting. If the banker felt like he and his family were in danger, he agreed to open the account but only to her. She’d need to come down there in person to present documents and ID.”
“But they don’t have court documents because Aston wasn’t successful,” I said to Noah and Judy.
“Right,” Noah said, “but if your life is at stake, which the banker’s probably is, you’d do it anyway, even with obviously false court paperwork.”
“I don’t get something,” Raven said.
“What’s that?” Cassidy asked.
“Why didn’t Castillo simply threaten the banker before now? Why let this farce with Aston go on for five years?”
“I can answer that,” Judy said.
Raven and I both turned back to the laptop.
“Aston has been embezzling from his law firm for years.”
“What?” I asked.
She grinned, and Noah turned to smile at her. “I hacked into the law firm’s—” She stopped and squinted into the camera. “This is all off the record, FBI guys.”
Noah laughed. Lincoln and Mac nodded. “It might have been nice to ask for that disclaimer yesterday, Judy, but go ahead. You’re good,” Lincoln said.
“I…ah… obtained banking records from Aston, Summerfield, and Billings which show that a sizeable amount of money has been disappearing from the firm’s accounts for a while now.”
“He was stealing from his own firm,” I concluded.
“Yes, and we think that money has been used by Aston to make incremental payments to the cartel to keep Oscar Castillo from killing him,” Noah replied.
“You’ve got to be joking,” Raven said.
“Actually, no, Raven, we have the records to prove it,” Noah said. “Mr. Aston has his own Cayman Islands account. Judy was able to trace withdrawals from one of the law firm’s trust accounts and equal deposits into Aston’s Cayman Island account followed by an immediate wire into a numbered Swiss bank account.”
“And you suspect the Swiss bank account belongs to the cartel?” I asked.
“Yes,” Judy said. “It’s impossible to trace without knowing the numbers, but I currently have a program running trillions of number combinations to isolate it.”
“How much money are we talking about here?” Raven asked.
“Eighteen million so far,” Noah said, “and I suspect the only reason the law firm hasn’t noticed the money missing from the account is because that trust account belongs to a former client of Aston’s. The client is deceased, the family has been trying to get the estate settled for almost four years. The trust account for that client is supposed to remain untouched until the estate is settled.”
“Wow,” I said, looking at Raven and glancing back at the others. “So, why hasn’t the family of the deceased simply asked for the trust account money a long time ago?”
“We think it’s because the estate is massive with over fifteen large commercial properties, several hundred residential properties, and too many bank accounts to count associated with it,” Judy said.
“That doesn’t answer the question, Judy.”
“Oh, I forgot to add the man died intestate.” She looked up. “Maybe he had Aston do the will but the beneficiaries to the estate don’t know it exists.”
“Jesus,” I spat.
“That’s what we said,” Lincoln said. “We do believe a will exists but assuming this client did all his estate planning with Aston, and the attorney saw this massive estate with property and cash, he most likely told the guy he’d set up an investment portfolio for him, requiring the law firm’s trust account.”
“To top it all off, there are several ex-wives, multiple children, and stepchildren all fighting for the money,” Judy added.
“Aston’s been doing the two-step with this estate for years then,” I said, almost mystified at how the attorney had been so blatant. “He must have known he’d eventually be caught.”
“We think so too,” Mac said, “but Aston probably has the partners convinced he can drag this probate out for years, collecting billable hours because there are so many REITs involved. That’s real estate investment trusts and bank accounts.”
“More acronyms,” Raven said, shaking his head. I smiled. “But someone’s going to figure it out soon,” Raven added. “I’m shocked that he’s been able to drag it out this long.”
“And our Financial Crimes Division will have a field day with this when the time is right,” Lincoln said. “It’ll probably mean disbarment for every one of Aston’s partners, but for now, we think Castillo is tired of waiting.”
“Aston has to have an ulcer the size of Texas with a cartel gun pointing at his head,” Mike said. “Or a knife. The cartel uses those delightful machete things.”
I nodded. “I can’t imagine robbing Peter to pay Paul for four years, knowing that he has the choice between a long federal prison sentence, or a slow death at the hands of Oscar Castillo.”
“So, you think Tawny Flores is down in the Caymans so that she can show her ID and get the fifty million released. But why is Brian Leopard there with Trevor?” I asked.
“We’ve been looking into Brian’s emails ever since we learned of his involvement,” Noah said. “We saw this on Friday morning.”
Judy and Noah’s faces disappeared from the screen, replaced by an email from Tawny to Brian.
“Hi, love. I have to fly down to the Caymans tonight and meet with my attorney to finally sign some important papers. I know you’ve been through so much with the break-in and everything. Why don’t you and Trevor pack a bag and come with me? I know you could use the time away to get out of your head for a couple of days. There’s a fantastic spa and their masseuse is to die for. We’ll eat fresh seafood, visit art galleries, and do as much shopping as you’d like. My treat, sweetie. All I have to do is make a quick stop at the bank on Thursday morning. How does that sound?
Hit me up as soon as you can. We take off from LAX at 6:05 p.m. and since we’re boarding in the new executive terminal, we get to do TSA and Customs there. We’ll be there at five p.m. sharp. My attorney is letting us use his firm’s private Gulf Stream. It’ll be fun. Kiss kiss. Love you, Tawny.”
“Then, Brian’s reply.”
“Oh, you sweet girl, how wonderful! I just read this to Trevor and he’s over the moon. We can’t wait to see you! I love it! See you then, Tawns.”
“Tawns?” Raven snorted.
“We thought the same thing,” Lincoln said, smiling. “So, that’s another reason why we’re convinced Brian Leopard is innocent in this mess.” He looked at Damon as Judy and Noah reappeared on the screen again. “Why don’t you tell Raven and Miguel the rest, Damon.”
I turned my attention to the former operative. “There’s more?”
Damon nodded, looking serious. “Do you want to show them the footage from outside the plantation house, Noah?”
“Sure. This is video feed from that camera at the gate to the estate. It was taken two hours ago.” The screen instantly switched to a camera feed. It was the same one they’d first shown us…with the red dirt road, the lush jungle almost looking sinister now. In the distance a large SUV could clearly be seen coming up the road toward what I now knew to be the plantation house. The camera showed the road from a higher-than-average angle which meant it was probably mounted on a gate pillar.
This time the image stayed fixed on the SUV which became larger and larger the closer it got. If it was the same camera, which had been panning before, that meant it was being operated by someone. I mentally tried to count how many guards were holed up on the grounds, knowing Castillo was probably being guarded by a fuck load of heavily-armed men. If this was the base of operations for the cartel, hell, there could be a hundred sicarios in that place. It was big enough. The vehicle was black, and a single figure drove. As the Land Rover got close enough, I narrowed my eyes to see the driver’s face.
“Pause it, Noah,” Snow said.
The feed stopped and the man’s face was clear on the screen. He was only vaguely familiar to me. “Who is that?”
“You don’t recognize him?”
I tilted my head. “Looks familiar, Thorne.”
“That’s Alex Filmore,” Damon said.
It struck me then. I’d seen the guy around the Afghan base camp several times, but until this moment, I hadn’t matched the name with the face.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” I cursed under my breath. “That’s one of the intelligence guys I’d seen on base. He’s older now…that’s Filmore?”
“Yes,” Damon replied.
I looked at Raven. “You know what this means?”
“That all this shit is connected and now we have proof?”
I shook my head sadly. “Yeah, but not only that. There are innocent people inside that den of snakes, Raven.”
“If they’re even still alive,” Raven replied, looking like he was about to cry.
I took his hand and squeezed it hard, staring into his eyes before turning back to the screen. I stared at the face I hadn’t seen in many years before dragging my gaze back to Lincoln. “What do we do now?”
Snow sighed deeply. “There’s only one thing to do.” He glanced at Mac and then Damon. “We need to end this.”
I was about to ask him what the fuck that meant when his phone suddenly rang. He swore under his breath and I watched him yank it out of an inner pocket in his jacket.
“Snow!” he barked into the phone. He listened for a whole minute as I watched his face fall. “What the hell,” he muttered. He listened. After another minute, he made a fist with his free hand and turned to Mac. They exchanged a loaded glance before Lincoln spoke again. He visibly straightened. “Yes, sir. I understand.” He checked his watch. “Tell them we’ll meet them at the Federal Building in half an hour.” He hung up and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. “You’re not going to believe this.”
“What?” I asked.
“That was my SAC. Mac and I have been ordered back to the office to speak to his counterpart at the DEA.” He suddenly turned back to the laptop. Noah and Judy were looking up at someone who was talking to them.
“Yes, sir,” Noah said before facing the webcam. “Gotta go, guys.” He leaned toward the screen before it went black.
I glanced at Lincoln. “What just happened?”
“Apparently, the DEA has an ongoing task force looking into the cartel. They’re a pubic hair away from being able to make a case to bring down Oscar Castillo and the entire Sanchez Cartel. Mac and I have been ordered back to the office to meet with the DEA to explain why we’ve been investigating Trevor Sunset Willis. Apparently, Noah and Judy’s searches have been noticed,” he growled.
“Why?” Mac asked.
Lincoln’s teeth were grinding. “Because he’s an undercover DEA agent.”
“Trevor?” Raven asked. He sounded incredulous.
“Yes, and we might have just gotten him killed and blown their whole fucking case,” Lincoln said. “Sorry, guys, but we’ve got to go.” His phone rang again, and he swiped angrily at it. “Yes, sir?” He listened a few seconds before looking me right in the eye. “I don’t think…” He paused. “Yes, sir. They’ll be there.” He pulled the phone away from his ear. “Miguel. You and Raven are going with us. Cars will be outside in ten minutes.”
“Fuck!” I swore under my breath before looking at Raven. His eyes were as round as saucers. “I’m so sorry, Raven, but I really need some pills.”
He jumped up. “Yeah, right now.”
I watched him run out of the room before dropping my voice to a whisper. “This is fucked up, Snow. I don’t want Raven anywhere near those DEA fuckers and he’s definitely not getting dragged deeper into any of this shit.”
Lincoln nodded. “I know, and for the record, I’m sorry, Miguel. I had no idea.”
Damon began to rub his hands together. “What?” I growled.
“Take it easy, Huerta. This is exciting. No one’s going to get hurt so sac up. This is just like old times,” he said with a grin.
I was not amused in the least. “Just like old times, asshole?”
“Don’t worry, Miguel. I’ve always had your back and now, every fucking federal agency in the U.S. has Raven’s as well.”
“Whatever you say, Damon.”
My head was killing me.