“My guy?”
“One of the undercover operatives you have working in Nuevo Laredo to ensure the Mexican problem stays Mexican!”
The governor was tired but not so tired he had forgotten about a team of undercover operatives he had working in Mexico. There was no such team.
“Slow down and tell me exactly what has happened,” he demanded, removing the smile from his press officer’s face.
“I got a call. One of your men has just swum across the Rio Grande with the shooter. He caught him in the act and killed him at the scene. He has brought the shooter’s corpse and the rifle used by the shooter as evidence.”
On hearing the 'motherfucker’ responsible was dead, he couldn’t help but smile, although briefly as the words 'your men’ hit home again.
“You keep saying 'my men’?”
“He has reported that he’s part of an operation requested by you of the CIA and followed orders issued by the Governor to protect the great state of Texas from the dangers of the drug cartels.”
The Governor suddenly realized the presidency was back on, very much thanks to the CIA. A gift from them that would require some payback, should he be elected. And as his press officer had so succinctly stated, he had done in two hours what two presidents had spent ten years doing. He was a shoe in! The smile returned, the game was back on.
“Get my man on the phone!” he demanded, beaming his best election smile.
It had taken just ten minutes to float the body down into position. The hard part was yet to come, avoiding the lights and making it look like he had just entered the waters on the opposite side of the river, before swimming across to the US and not being shot by the trigger-happy and exceedingly nervous border guards. Of course, all of this was to be undertaken while having a 200-pound corpse and sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. Fortunately, he managed pretty much perfectly and was rewarded with excited shouts as he was caught in the act of pulling a corpse from the water by the ever vigilant border patrols.
Sean quickly explained he was a CIA agent and the corpse was the shooter and the sniper rifle the one used to commit the crimes. Within minutes, he was being quizzed by pretty much any official who thought he was somebody in Laredo. The story leaked just as per Vincent’s request. Sean was an undercover CIA operative working on behalf of the Governor to protect Texas and the US from the cartels. Sean would be the unsung hero of the hour, while the Governor would reap all the reward. Sean couldn’t have been happier. Vincent’s goons would be sent back to Virginia and he could go about getting James back to his mother. Of course, he needed a little help from Vincent to get the US’s major drug dealers phone numbers but it was the least Vincent could do for him, particularly after gifting the Governor the presidency on behalf of the CIA.
“Interesting choice of hand gun you have their son?” offered Laredo’s chief policeman. At over 6 feet six and weighing in at over 270 pounds, he was an imposing figure with a voice that boomed even more imposingly.
Sean looked at the somewhat embarrassing mini cannon, a la Dirty Harry.
“Playing the part!” offered Sean half-heartedly.
“Hmmm,” replied the chief lifting the Desert Eagle.50 caliber pistol from the table. It looked like a normal pistol in the chief’s massive hands. He eyed Sean suspiciously. “Never met a professional that would have one of these anywhere near him!”
“Exactly why I carry one undercover,” replied Sean, quick as a flash. A phone ringing stopped any more probing by the less than convinced Chief.
“The Governor is on his way,” came a shout from where the phone had been answered.
Sean slipped from the table he had been perched on and made to leave. A clasp of a firm hand on his shoulder put paid to any such idea. The Chief wanted Sean to meet the Governor.
“Not so fast, I’m sure the Governor would like to congratulate his man personally,” he scoffed, not buying any of what Sean had said. It wasn’t often Sean was over imposed but the chief was talented at using his size and presence to maximum effect. Of course, had they been in a battle environment, things would have been very different. Sean had noted a number of weaknesses and areas to exploit, should the need arise and would have the chief debilitated or dead within a second. However, the chief calling him for the bullshit artist he was, was hardly grounds to kill the man.
“Of course, I just need to change out of these clothes!” offered Sean as an excuse for an exit, not something the chief could easily argue with. The Rio Grande was not what you would construe as a fresh water river. The water had been likened many times to an open sewer such was the stench as its waters flowed through the various shantytowns and villages that lined its banks.
“Vazquez!” shouted the chief.
“Yes chief?” A young officer rushed to the chief’s side.
“Get our savior here some clean clothes.” The word 'savior’ was heavy with sarcasm. “And best get the doc to arrange a few shots, God alone knows what he could have caught in there!”
With that reassuring endorsement, it was clear Sean was not going anywhere until the Governor had been.
“How long until he arrives?” asked Sean checking his watch, 3.15 a.m.. He had pretty much been on the go since leaving Afghanistan some 30 hours earlier.
Vazquez checked his watch before answering. “It’s over two hours by chopper from Austin, so at the very earliest, six a.m. But I would say nearer 6.30 a.m.”
“Do you have a shower here?” asked Sean looking around the border guards’ complex.
Ten minutes and a refreshing shower later, Sean was dressed and asleep, awaiting the arrival of Governor Rick Brown. It would be one of the most defining moments of Sean’s life and were he ever given the chance to relive it, he would vote categorically no!
Chapter 38
Katarina Guiterez was a rare Latino mix, thanks to the stationing of her Russian mother in Cuba. An intelligence officer with the GRU, she had met and fallen for Katarina’s father while working with Castro’s close advisors. Katarina, as a result, had inherited her mother’s blonde hair and blue eyes while her bronze skin struggled to hide her father’s Latin heritage. She was in any language stunning. She had the body build of an Olympic athlete and the grace of a princess and these, added to her beauty, ensured that pretty much anybody exposed to her was instantly captivated by her, male or female.
Her mother and father had fled to the US as a result of their union being frowned upon by their superiors. Their defection went unnoticed as neither held any real position of importance, power or information. New names were assigned and after a brief period of interrogation which uncovered exactly zero intelligence of any use for the US government, they were allowed to integrate into US society. A few years after the defection, the Berlin wall came down and as far as the US government was concerned, the history of the two defectors all but vanished. With a couple more name changes and the addition of Katerina, it would be almost impossible for the family to be traced back to their very un-American roots.
Katerina had long since changed her name to an American one. In fact, she herself had never once been called Katerina but deep down that was her name. Raised as an all-American girl, she had done it all and been accepted by everyone. Of course in a country where beauty was everything, this was no great issue for Katerina. Her mother had trained her well and before long, Katerina was using her womanly wiles to ensure she achieved what she wanted or needed. To her, sex was merely a means to an end. Her mother had been trained as a honey trap and it was only on meeting Katerina’s father that her role changed. Although in reality, meeting Katerina’s father and defecting were exactly the assignment she had been given. The love had come later, not that Katerina’s father ever knew that he had been used as a pawn in the GRU’s grand plan. His untimely death avoided him knowing about the plans in place for his daughter. Plans which, were he alive, he would never have approved or allowed. The untimely death itself was somewhat timely in Katerina’s mother’s eyes, or somewhat precisely timed
