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Hard To Forget

Год написания книги
2019
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Wilder looked at Sam from beneath his bushy brows. “We’ve been asked to join a task force to find out why those two agencies are not making more arrests. The word is that some of the agents may be taking money to look the other way. I received word late yesterday that we need new faces to work the area, people who are unknown to either of the two agencies. None of us likes to think about an agent who has turned, but it happens. I have handpicked each of you to work on this. We’re going to find out if any INS or DEA agents are on the take, and if they are, we’re going to remove them.”

He looked around the room to make certain everyone understood. Then he nodded at the papers lying in front of each one of them. “What I’ve handed out here is general background material on what has been done by the two agencies up until now. Here’s the plan. I requested a list of possible suspects who may be involved in the smuggling operations—people who were arrested and let go for lack of evidence, people whose behavior is suspicious, people who need to be watched by agents who can be trusted.”

For the first time since he had introduced her to the group, Wilder looked at Elena. “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’ve been chosen for this team.”

She tensed, recognizing that the knot in the pit of her stomach had been forming as she slowly realized that she wasn’t there to interpret information. Douglas Wilder intended to use her on this assignment. She smiled, hoping to cover her nervousness. “Yes, sir. The thought did cross my mind.”

“If you’ll look at page fourteen of the handout, you’ll notice that a significant increase in activity has been narrowed to an area in and around Santiago, Texas. Santiago is located between Rio Grande City and Laredo right on the Texas-Mexico border. A new bridge was opened there about eighteen months ago to facilitate the movement of factory products from Mexico into the United States. Several suspects listed in these handouts live near there.” He glanced around the room. “Fortunately I believe we’ve discovered a secret weapon right here in our own agency, gentlemen. You see, Santiago happens to be Elena’s hometown.”

Elena quickly turned to the page in question and began to read in order not to make eye contact with the other agents.

Wilder continued, “As soon as I discovered that we had a trained agent from that area, I knew we were already ahead of the game. We’ve got an agent familiar with the area who will be able to mingle with the locals without causing any suspicion.”

He looked around the room. “Are there any questions so far?”

No one spoke.

“All of you will be working undercover. Elena, obviously, will be our insider, feeding us as much information as she can while we work the other border towns in that general vicinity. Our plan is to have Elena spend the next few months getting reacquainted with old friends, neighbors and schoolmates and collecting as much local information as possible. We’re counting on her being able to get close to some of the people we think might be masterminding these runs. We’ll also be working on finding out which U.S. agents are feeding the smugglers information that keeps them from being discovered.”

One of the agents raised his hand. “But won’t those people know she works for the government?”

Elena answered with the information Wilder already knew about her from reading her personnel file. “When I first came to work here, I decided not to tell anyone back home who I worked for. Instead, I told them that I’m an accountant for a small firm in Maryland.”

Wilder went on, “Her cover will be that her firm was bought out and she was let go with a generous severance packet. There would be nothing unusual in her choosing to go back home for a while before she decides where to apply for her next job.”

He looked at Elena as though to confirm that this scenario would work for her. She nodded, unable to come up with an alternative.

Wilder said to the group at large, “Study the workup on the list of suspected smugglers. They live in towns from Brownsville to Laredo. I want you to learn their history and get to know as much about them as you know about your own brother. Or sister. You’ll see there are some women on the list.”

He waited while the agents scanned the pages. Elena spotted some familiar names. “How do you want this handled, sir? If I’m working inside, I won’t be able to communicate much with the others.”

“Sam Walters will be heading up the group down there, reporting directly to me. Chris Simmons will be your immediate contact. My suggestion is that you make regular shopping trips into San Antonio where you’ll meet with Chris for status reports. He, in turn, will stay in touch with Sam.”

Wilder looked at the others. “What we’re hoping is that you’ll hear or see something that might hint at a coming shipment. You’ll be doing utility work—electric, cable, gas, telephone—in order to have a reason to be in rural areas at odd times of day and night.

“Do what you have to do to blend in and become a part of the various small communities in the area. Each of you will have a different area to cover, some south of Santiago, others north. The main thing is not to have any run-ins with the local authorities, because you won’t be able to tell them why you’re there. Keep your noses clean and your eyes and ears open.” He paused and looked around at each of them. “Any more questions?”

Wilder’s voice faded into the background when Elena flipped to a new page and saw the name listed at the top. A photo, a detailed description and background check were all there, but she couldn’t get past the name and photo.

For a moment she thought she was hallucinating. This couldn’t be real.

Joseph Sanchez. Joe Sanchez lived in Santiago now? Since when? She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. He was listed as one of the suspects.

She scanned the report. Twenty-nine years old. Received an honorable discharge from the army as a major. Currently residing in Santiago, Texas.

His black eyes stared out of the photo without expression. His hair was much shorter than she remembered, but the stubborn jaw, the dent in the chin, the slight scowl that drew his black eyebrows to a V were very much the same. There was no mistaking him.

His shoulders appeared wider and more heavily muscled than she remembered, which wasn’t surprising. She knew she had changed considerably in the past eleven years. Her changes had been more than physical.

Someone asked a question; then others added their queries. Their words washed over her without making any sense. She tried to focus on the discussion, but all she could do was stare at the photograph, aware of her heart pounding heavily in her chest.

She hadn’t thought of Joe Sanchez in years. She hadn’t seen him since they’d graduated from high school. It had been her devout hope at that time that she would never ever see him again.

Joe Sanchez was a horrible reminder of the most humiliating time in her life. She’d been so shy around boys while she was growing up, not at all certain she could trust them. She’d seen how her father’s behavior—his drinking and the accompanying lies he’d told with charming sincerity—had so often upset her mother. She’d grown up not trusting anything her father said.

Joe had seemed very different from her father. In the months she’d gotten to know him, she’d learned to trust him, to believe that not every male was like her father. Joe had betrayed her in so many ways the night of their senior prom that she had determined never to allow another man the opportunity to get close enough to hurt her again.

Instead, she had focused on her career. She knew that this assignment was the biggest test she’d been given since she joined the bureau. She was returning to her hometown and would have to pretend it was because she’d lost her job, which would certainly put a dent in her ego.

In addition, she was being assigned to get close to Joseph Sanchez, who was suspected of drug smuggling, to find out all his secrets and betray him.

How ironic was that?

Finally Wilder said, “Okay, that should take care of everything I wanted to cover during this meeting.” He glanced at her and said, “Elena, I need to speak with you for a few minutes.”

After the last agent left the room, Wilder closed the door and turned to her. “Sorry to spring this one on you like that.” He sat down in the chair that Chris had vacated and faced her. “I would have discussed it with you last night when I called, but I couldn’t take a chance that someone might get wind of my decision to use you in the field and try to get around it. I know this is a dangerous assignment, but I also believe from everything I’ve heard about you that you can handle it. I hope you agree.”

Elena pushed her chair away from the table so that she was facing him. She nodded to him and said, “Yes, sir. I do. I appreciate your faith in my abilities.”

“I want to stress that no one outside our group will know you’re working with us. No other agency will have your name. We’re doing everything we can to protect you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“We noted that one of the suspects graduated from Santiago High School with you. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How well did you know him?”

She thought of several responses to that, but chose to be circumspect. “It was a relatively small school. I knew everyone in the class.”

He nodded. “Then you don’t think you’ll have any trouble making contact with him?”

Trouble? That wasn’t the word that came to mind. “I don’t think so.”

Wilder stood and Elena followed his lead. “How soon can you leave?” he asked.

She rubbed her forehead, where a steady pulsating throb was already working itself into a full-fledged headache. “Probably tomorrow. Possibly the day after. I’ll need to contact my mother and prepare her for my moving back home.” She glanced at Wilder. “Do you really think this will take months?”

“At the very least.”

She sighed, kneading her temples.

“Is this going to present personal problems for you?”

Her mind flashed to Joseph Sanchez, ex-military.

“No, sir,” she lied without a qualm. She would deal with the situation because she was a professional.
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