Chapter 12 Jack Stinson's End
Sorry, last chapter ended two paragraphs too short. Here we meet Stinson and his downfall.
The helicopter's beating woke me up. As it circled the meadow the doctor exclaimed, "That's not a med evac."
It was HLS helicopter and Stinson was quite visible at the door.
"What the hell is Stinson doing here?" Ben asked. Ranger was already talking to Bob Simon on the cell phone.
Ranger hung up and reported, "According to Bob, Stinson was been pulled from the case and sent back to Denver. Once there he commandeered the HLS helicopter without authorization and six agents. The guy might be crazy and dangerous."
Crazy and dangerous were understatements.
The 8 man helicopter disgorged 8 men; 1 pilot, 6 armed with rifles, the eighth man was Stinson with a .45 in his hand. It reminded me of a scene with John Wayne and the movie The Green Berets.
"You are all under arrest. Hands up," yelled Stinson.
"I'm General Clark Gleason, you are on my ranch. Who the hell are you and what is this all about?"
"Treason, sedition, terrorism. A cache of nuclear material was found in Walden. Cortez and the terrorist have been traced here. Carson and Cortez were just too eager to get away from Walden probably knowing what I'd find. They said they were following a fugitive terrorist. More likely they were part of the plot and trying to join him. And here we find Carson and that spic Cortez on your property, general. Isn't that convenient? I'm ready to believe you are a part of this too. Are you giving aid to the enemy general?" Stinson sneered when he said "general."
Turning to Manoso, Stinson smiled, "Hello Cortez."
"The name is Manoso, Ricardo Carlos. It is not Cortez."
Not recognizing the voice, Stinson turned back to Carson and screamed, "Where the hell is Cortez? Who is this wet-back?"
The five of us remained quiet. Who was Cortez? Did he mean me, Castillo? Stinson seemed looney indeed.
We were all searched and handcuffed and stood in a row. "My son is a doctor. He's treating the fugitive over there. He shouldn't be cuffed," said General Gleason.
"No, he's a part of this," Stinson shot back.
"If you want your suspect alive, you'll need Jack's medical skills before your medical evac comes. You have ordered one up, haven't you?" The general asked.
Stinson thought a minute and then gave the command for Jack Gleason to be released. We still didn't know if medical evacuation was coming.
Ranger was next to the General. "Stallion Down has been called," Ranger said just loud enough for us to hear. We knew it meant Bob Simon had put a call to Ft. Carson and probably the Pentagon that a General was in danger. The rescue force was coming, if we lived long enough.
With Stinson's men guarding us, Stinson ranted and went up to the fugitive, "He isn't Cortez." Coming back he raised his gun to Manoso's head and said, "Where is Cortez you damn spic."
I spoke up, "The name is Castillo, not Cortez and not Mr. Tijuana." Stinson came up to me. "Who the hell are you, chicka?' he asked "And what happened to you?"
OK, time for some confusion to buy time for the Army to arrive. I hope they are fast. "My name is Major Catherine Castillo, US Army Intel and I gave him my ID number. I doubted he cared. My partner and I have been tracking a group of Middle East terrorists from Mosul to the US. We put out a special notice to HLS to watch for them, but they got by your ID checks at not one but three different US airports. What the hell are you guys doing, sleeping on the job? We tracked them to Colorado and called for support. Sure glad you guys finally got off your butts and caught up."
He blinked trying to process the baloney.
I proceeded with another cock and bull story about arms dealing; radical cells groups in the Rocky Mountain area, giving the Army rescue team time. At least I hoped it was a cock and bull story. The more I talked the more it sounded very plausible. One thing for certain, I was leaving Marc Manoso's name out of this.
"Ben Carson served with me in Army Intel. When you pulled up, I knew he spoke Spanish and would not blow my cover until all terrorists were captured. I expected Homeland to show up with more than 5 agents or at least ones better supervised. When you arrived I had terrorist number 1 and 2 secured in the cabin. I turned them over to you, remember? Ben and I secured 3 and 4 on the back approach to the cabin.
Since you have been relieved and HLS eased out, I assume 3 and 4 aren't still tied to the trees but with the FBI or some organization that knows it's ass from its head."
"Where did you get the idea I have been relieved, chicka? I'm still in command. I am head of the Denver office." Apparently he missed the insults.
This guy is living in Twilight Zone, I thought. "OK we are down to the two guys from the SUV behind the cabin in Walden. Number 5 tried to escape with the SUV but shot himself and number 6 is over there. I'll let Army Intel, HLS, FBI, CIA, NSA, AFTE, DIA, IAEA, MI6, BND, DGSE, and Mossad sort out who gets him. My job is done." I couldn't come up with any other alphabet agencies except Russia's and China's but figured I had blown enough smoke.
His mind was trying to process the information. "Who was your partner?" I'll give him credit, he was thinking but he was way behind in the story.
"That would be me, Captain Carlos Manoso, US Army Ranger." Ranger spoke.
I silently thanked Ranger. I was running out of baloney. Marc Manoso remained unknown.
Turning to Manoso he asked, "And why again did you only speak Spanish Cortez?"
"I am not Cortez, there is no Cortez. Her name is Catherine Castillo. She explained that to you. We use Spanish as our cover as bond enforcement agents from nonspecific Spanish speaking country. Sometimes we are Columbian, sometimes Mexican, and sometimes Cuban, it doesn't matter. We couldn't let the terrorists to know we were Army Intel."
OK, the answer varied slightly from what I told Stinson, but I'm not sure he remembered.
"Yes, there is a Cortez. Who is Cortez?" He asked again.
"I am Cortez." I did not roll my eyes.
"Bull Shit," he exploded. I was getting tired of his BS explosions. "Cortez is a man."
"How do you know? Did you see his face or was it hidden behind a balaclava? Did you see his junk?"
"Are you questioning me, chicka?" His gun came up to my head.
I lowered my voice, "Habla espanol senor federale?"
Stinson looked like he would explode. His brain was whirling. Let's keep it turning...
I continued, "The longer I could make the Middle Easterners believe I was a Spanish speaking male the better my cover. I was hoping they'd talk amongst themselves so I could gather information. And they did. How else did I know visitors were coming to the back door?"
"They spoke Spanish?" He asked incredulously.
If my hands hadn't been secured behind my back I would have given him a Gibbs slap on the head though not a good idea when the guy has a .45 pointed at you.
"They appeared to be from the Middle East. I hoped they either spoke Arabic or Farsi, though my Farsi isn't very good."
"You understood them because you were part of the plot, bitch,"Stinson yelled. You and your partner Mariola here are not really from Columbia. I bet his name is Mohammed and you are…...
"What, don't know any Arabic names for women? Try Aisha, it was Mohammad's wife's name." I was running out of shtick, where was the Army?
"Shut up you traitorous bitch."
Oh boy, I've gone from chicka to bitch. No wonder he never made it to Washington. Besides being an idiot and jerk, his mouth needed a good washing.
Stinson continued, "You are dark enough to be Middle Eastern. For all I know that could be a suicide pack on you." Turning to Manoso he continued, " I understand the men strap suicide vests on their wives. Is that what you've done Mohammed?"
Ranger spoke up, "My name is Manoso, not Mohammed. I would never put a suicide vest on my wife."
"She's your wife?" He gasped.
I looked down at my torn and bloody clothes and laughed. "If this was a suicide vest, we'd all be dead now. These are my breasts and you are not getting a look. Your 6th terrorist is over there, he had some type of antipersonnel device on him and it exploded. It looked like a lighter. There were several in the cabin in front of the two detainees, numbers 1 and 2; perhaps you saw them too." Little did I know indeed Stinson knew what I was talking about and that was one reason he had been relieved from the case.
"Right now, Stinson, your detainee needs immediate medical help. You came 8 men in an 8 man helicopter, how are you going to transport him, us and your men back to Denver?" Manoso asked.
Sadly for the first time he thought to count his men. What in incompetent boob.
"At least get him to the hospital, you can come back for us," I said.
"Bull Shit, I'm taking you, your terrorist husband Mohammad, the traitor Carson and the injured." Great, I had just been elevated to terrorists. Let's see; chicka, bitch, suicide bomber, terrorist, my position with Stinson is getting worse.
"He'll need the doctor to travel along unless one of your men is a medic. That leaves just three seats, you and two guards." Manoso said.
"The doctor stays here, three guards."
What about the General here. Shouldn't you be taking him as well?" I asked.
"We'll take him too."
"And how many men will you have to leave behind."
Stinson was getting very agitated and confused. I was trying to remember the Abbott and Costello routine, "Who's on First" wondering if I could delay and confuse any longer.
I caught Carson's eye as he looked to the south. He mouthed "Army." I wanted to cry with relief. "OK Stinson, I'll go with you. Send your guys over to carry the injured man on board." That would separate some of the guards from Stinson.
"I'm in command here, I give the orders," Stinson barked.
"Sir, what are your orders?" I asked with what little respect I could muster.
"You bitch, in the helicopter," he sneered.
We were back to bitch, how refreshing. I could barely stand, my right arm was bleeding again, but I began walking slowly towards the HLS helicopter. I suddenly wondered if I could sit down in a wildly vibrating helicopter. I moaned.
Ranger whispered, "Major?"
I called back, "Protege al segmental." (Protect the stallion) meaning protect the general.
I walked close to Stinson occasionally bumping into him, partly out of trying to distract him but also, I was having a heck of a time walking. I hoped to take him out when he went gonzo with the Army's arrival.
The Army arrived in grand style: Two HH60 Pave Hawk ships with gunners at the doors. The noise was deafening. When they set down and throttled down the engines I turned to Stinson, "It looks like the Army is trumping you, Stinson. You still plan on arresting us?"
I looked over the HLS men, "Gentlemen drop our weapons before the Army takes offense to you endangering the general."
Stinson swung to his men and screamed, "NO! Shoot them all, shoot them all" and turned back and me, raised his .45 and fired.