Chapter 2
She walked up the stairs to a large oak door. She tried the doorknob. The door was locked, just the way it should be. The room led to Ezra's office. It was the only room in the house that was off limits to JD and as far as the kid knew, to her as well. She unhooked her necklace and fit the octagonal shaped pendent into the lock. She turned and the door opened easily. After checking over shoulder, she walked into room.
It anyone was to walk into the room, they would find nothing unusual. A large oak desk set in the middle of the oak furnished room. The only thing on the desk was a desk lamp. Two of the walls contained book shelves with law books and folders full of insurance information. Two paintings were hung on the west wall directly across from the desk. One painting was of a nineteenth century New England country side, painted by a well known artist from the Impressionist Era. Eboni smiled when she looked at the second painting. It was a crude painting of two people sitting on what appeared to be horses riding through the woods. One of the riders was a boy with black hair. The other rider was a man wearing a business suit and looked out of place in the setting of the picture. The artist had scribbled his initials at the bottom of the artwork. One of the paintings would draw a considerably larger sum at an auction house, but Ebbi didn't have to guess which one was more valuable to Ezra.
She sat down at the desk and reached underneath, groping for the lever that she knew was there. After a few seconds, she found it and pushed the metal knob to the left. With the other hand, she pushed hard on the top of the desk, until two wooden flaps flipped down. She reached inside around the edges and up on a wooden slab containing a modern work station. She turned the laptop and the scanner next to it on. Eboni couldn't help, but smile at the ingenuity Ezra put into this office when designing it. The book shelves were on hidden tracks that moved easily if one needed to access to the top secret documents hidden behind the wall. JD's masterpiece covered up a safe containing millions of dollars in different currencies used across the world. There were at least ten other secret hiding places that Eboni knew about, and she doubted that Ezra had told her about half of them.
She had known right away that JD had been the one who hacked into the files. She could picture Ezra's face when he finally had the opportunity to tell him. Of course, he would talk to JD, but any reprimand would be half hearted. Like uncle, like nephew.
She reached for a small button on the phone next to her. She heard the speaker phone ring a few times. As she waited for somebody to pick up, she put a zip drive in the side of the computer. Ezra insisted on backing up everything at least three times. One set of evidence was on his home computer, the second was at the office, and the third would be on this zip drive that would be taken to a safety deposit box tomorrow. She sighed. Ezra's words ringing in her ears.
"I abhor gambling and leave nothing to chance."
The man could be so neurotic at times.
"What's up Eboni?" the male voice on the other end asked. She didn't question how the man knew who it was. The secure line led to only one place and she knew who was on duty tonight.
"Hey Buck, I'm scanning the pictures Ezra sent and adding them to the file he's already built on Ricco," she answered. While talking, she opened up the lid of the scanner and put the first picture down. "Looks like he's getting himself pretty deep into Ricco's ring."
"Yeah, deeper than Chris had initially planned. He just about threw a conniption fit when he saw the photos."
Eboni chuckled when she thought of the image. She exchanged one picture for the other.
"I'm backing all the intel up on a drive and then I'll give it to Vin to bring to the bank.
"Tell him to bring it to the Dugout first, Our computer system's been on the fritz and I think we might have lost some of Ezra's files."
"He's going to think somebody' hacking into the files and trying to steal everything." Eboni laughed, but chalked it up as another lesson from her mentor. Maybe Ezra wasn't so anal about wanting to back up everything after all.
"Have you talked to Ezra?" she asked, anxiously.
"He should be calling in about two hours."
"But Chris has the night off," Eboni protested, again changing pictures.
"I'm sure that's Ezra's plan."
.
"Too bad I can't have JD do this stuff. He understands all technology crap more than any of us. In fact…" She stopped talking when she heard a voice coming from downstairs.
"You okay Eb?' the voice on the speakerphone asked.
"Shit! I think Vin and JD are back from their run already," she paused to think. "but they've only been gone ten minutes…" A sudden thought flashed through the young woman's mind. She picked up the pictures and ran them quickly through the paper shredder.
Buck Wilmington was about to tell the girl to get a move on and lock up the office, when a loud crash was followed lots of cursing.
"What the hell was that?" he yelled.
"Shit Buck, somebody just broke into the house. Get somebody over here as soon as you can. I…"
Buck heard the unmistakable sound of gunshots followed by broken glass.
"Ebbi!" he yelled.
A male voice began talking rapidly. Buck knew the man was speaking in Spanish, but he could only make out a few words.
"Yo le disparó, ahora su computadora"
Buck's blood ran cold while he quickly translated.
"I shot her, now get the computer."
Meanwhile in Mexico…..
Ezra Standish leaned back in the overstuffed armchair, sipping the expensive tequila. Standish usually preferred Scotch, but the drink in his hand came from the private stock of Jorge Ricco. Ezra knew better than to spite the man by nor taking up his offer of a drink.
"How are the Spirits mi amigo," Ricco asked, sitting down in the chair next to him with his own drink.
"Muy, muy bueno," Ezra stated making sure he elongated his vowels like any good Canadian would. "You have outdone yourself."
Ricco beamed with pride. At one time, Ezra had believed that all Mexican men were of small stature. That was before Jorge Ricco had broken the obvious stereotype.
Jorge Ricco packed at least two hundred and fifty pounds on his six four frame. A body that easily intimidated any creature that stood in Ricco's way. Thanks to the corruption and lack of regulation practiced by the Mexican government, the Mexican mob had arguably become the most powerful form of law in the northern part of the country. The new leaders that made up the mob dealt in drugs, prostitution and almost every other lucrative illegal activity they were able to think of. There were many men jockeying for the head positions, but none could ever dream of being as powerful as Jorge Ricco.
Ricco's dossier connected him with at least thirty known murders, involvement in fourteen different prostitution rings, and smuggling children to the sick SOB's that wanted them in the states. Ricco was also connected to some of the most powerful businessmen and politicians on both sides of the border. The CIA basically deemed him untouchable, the Al Capone of the twenty-first century
If Ricco was like the Chicago crime boss, then it could be said that Ezra and his teammates were comparable to Elliot Ness and company, poised to bring the man to his knees.
"Let's talk business Mr. Emile," Ricco stated.
"Please, must we ruin such a pleasant evening with such talk," Ezra responded. "I have the pleasure of your company for a few more days which leaves us plenty of time to make the exchange of my weapons for your fine supply of cocaine," Ezra responded, masking the desperation he felt. Things were moving way to fast for him. For the first time in a long time, Ezra felt out of his league. He was up the proverbial creek without a paddle.
"I apologize David, but we will have less time together than I had originally thought. My hijo Gordo is coming home from boarding school earlier than I anticipated. I wish to spend as much time with him as possible."
Ezra recognized the look of a proud father and felt a slight connection to the crime boss. Not for the first time, he realized how much he missed JD. The connection was very brief when Ezra recalled that this man had taken him away from his adoptive nephew in the first place.
The cell phone in Ricco's suit pocket began to ring.
"Excuse me while I take this call," Ricco apologized; He walked out of the room. Ezra welcomed the unexpected time alone. He needed to come up with a plan.
Travis had asked Ezra to pose as Canadian drug dealer David Emile to investigate possible ties between Ricco and a Saudi Arabian rebel leader. When Ezra hadn't found any connection, he was supposed to pull out of the mission and let the American agencies take over. South of the Border crime was not was the purpose of his team.
He hadn't counted on being Ricco's guest at his heavily guarded compound in the Yucatan Peninsula. By the time he had been able to get a hold of his team, he was in too deep to pull out.
If Ezra had been in Dubai or Lebanon, hell even in the West Bank, he would have connections and been able to figure out backup plans if anything went wrong. That was not case here. In Mexico, he was alone and he felt it now more than ever. Before anything happened, he needed to make that phone call to Chris.
The door to Ricco's office opened. Instead of Ricco, two of his large bodyguards entered the room. The men Ricco had hired from Russia. One look at their faces and the former CIA agent knew something was wrong.
"Shit," he cursed.
He reached for the gun at his ankle, but he was too slow.
Before he knew what hit him, two large men were at this side pulling him out his chair. One was on each arm. The small handgun slid across the floor. One of them pointed an M-16 at back of his skull.
"Gentlemen, I don't know what this is…" He tried to say, but was rewarded with a punch square in his jaw. He could feel the blood start to drip of his lips.
Ricco walked back into the room. The easy smile had been replaced by a storm cloud.
"So one of my nephews just informed by of some very interesting information Mr. Emile. It's common practice for me to monitor the communications of my guest for obvious reasons. I'm a wanted man after all.
"It seems like my concern is justified. It turns out all the e-mails you have been sending have not been going to your employees in Montreal, but to a home address of 1312 River Springs Dr. in Denver, Colorado."
Ezra felt his heart drop into the bottom of his stomach. When he had sent e-mails to his laptop at home, he had always made sure they went through at least four different servers first, each delivering the message to different locations around the world. Everything had happened so fast, he had forgotten to check to make sure the servers were working. Apparently they weren't. Oh Lord, if they knew where they lived…
"My nephew and some of his men found this suspicious and went to find out what was at the address…"
Ezra could barely breathe.
"Tell me Mr. Standish; was a Senorita Eboni Sawyer important to you?"
Ezra had a hot retort on his lips, but was forced to swallow it. The last thing he expected to hear was Ebbi's name.
"It seemed you were quite important to her. One of my men informed me that she killed herself jumping out a window to prevent them from getting your computer."
There had been very few times in his life that Ezra Standish had been unable to keep a straight face. He was unable to prevent the look of horror on his face as he crumpled to his knees, oblivious to the blows that began to torment his body.