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“At first, nothing. Then they started acting weird. Coffee doesn’t always agree with their noses anyway, but they’re smart enough to know that it’s a good way to hide drugs. Samson, he’s my big boy, he starts clawing at a door behind the counter.”
“What did the employees say?” asked East.
“I’d hardly call them employees. I asked for just a plain cup of coffee, and they said they were out. When Samson started to act weird, they wanted to quote me the law, telling me that dogs weren’t allowed. I told him, dude, this is New Orleans. We allow dogs everywhere.
“I asked to see what was behind the door, and they refused, saying they knew their rights and I would need a search warrant. They knew I wouldn’t get one just based on the dog acting weird.”
“So, we only have the dog acting weird,” said Rett.
“Not just that,” said the sheriff. “We sent some boys to watch the place, plain clothes, obviously. Them Venezuelans sat outside that apartment all day and night. They’re waiting for you or for that gal. Then, this morning, something really weird happened. A coffee truck pulls up. They unload bags and bags of alleged coffee beans.”
“I went back in there just twenty minutes after the truck left and got the same story. They were out of coffee,” said the officer. “Now, we can get a warrant, but it’s my understanding that sometimes you boys are great at figuring out ways around warrants.”
“We’ve been known to be creative,” smirked Eric. “We appreciate you coming all the way out here to tell us this.”
“It’s no problem. One other thing,” said the sheriff. “When I was asking questions, one of the men put his phone down, and the screen was on. There was a picture of you. Or one of you.”
“A picture? How in the fuck did they get a picture?” asked Eazee.
“It was a photo of you, or you, or you, in your full-dress uniform. It was an official photo,” said the man. “Tell Irene and Matthew I said hello. Good people, both of ‘em.”
“Thanks again,” said Luke. As Pigsty led the officers off the property, the others stood, staring at their leaders.
“We need to get into that coffee shop, Luke,” said Rett.
“We do, but first, we need to find out who the fuck gave your official photos to the cartel. My guess is it’s either Barber or Ryder, but I want to know why.”
“Maybe we need to have a conversation with both of them,” said Hex, looking at the men in the room. “We can do it casually. Give them the information we have, but don’t mention that the boys are here.”
“They’ll know that we’re here. Where else would we go?” smirked East.
“That might be true, but we can deny it all the same. I’m going to call some friends at the DOD and see if we’ve got anything weird on Barber or Ryder. I wonder if maybe they’re not on someone’s radar right now,” said Eric.
“I’m going to see if they’ll give me some information,” said Luke. He stepped out of the room, the others continuing to discuss a plan.
“I’m not keen on the three of you going into town and being seen,” said Hex.
“Maybe that’s the best route, though,” smirked Rett. “All three of us walking into that coffee shop, dressed exactly alike. They’ll think they’ve OD’d on their own drugs.” Eric laughed, shaking his head.
“Now, that might be a picture worth taking.”
Luke dialed the number that had been entrusted to him, reaching some of the highest-ranking men in the country. The one he really wanted to speak with was General Charles Bankston. A nearly forty-year veteran of the Army, he’d been the commander for the Green Berets, having been one himself at one time, for nearly twelve years. He was respected by those that served under him and those whom he served.
“Luke, it’s a pleasure to see you. How are you? How’s the family?”
“Everyone is well, sir. We’re all busy, as you can imagine. How is your family?”
“The boys are well, both serving overseas still. Patti is getting married next spring. Some egghead that thinks war is nasty business. Fucking idiot. Of course, it’s nasty business.” Luke could only laugh, shaking his head. The general did not tolerate fools.
“I know you didn’t call to catch up. How can I help?”
“I would like your opinion on two men, sir. General Ryder and Colonel Barber.”
“Jesus, you know how to make a man have indigestion,” he frowned, staring at the screen. He leaned back in his chair, holding up a finger, then stood, and Luke heard a door shut. When he sat back down, Luke stared at him.
“I guess I know my answer by your reaction,” he said.
“They’ve clawed their way up the ladder on the backs of other men. We’ve never been able to pin anything on them, but I believe they’ve broken the rules more than once to get where they are. Why are you asking?”
