All my thanks to my Editor Extraordinaire, Dog in the Manger. Thank you for everything!
Chapter 6: Long time, no see.
The lamenting buzz of the phone lying on the bedside table woke Mary up. It couldn't be the time to wake up as she was fairly certain that yesterday was a Saturday, which meant that today was supposed to be a Sunday. If the phone rang, it could only mean trouble.
Her foggy mind was about to realize that she had to grab the noisy device when it suddenly stopped making that noise. Mary sighed, knowing full well that she should be at least looking at who had called her.
If it's urgent, it will ring again. If not, it can wait until I'm awake, she thought. She wasn't on call this Sunday, and really expected to have a full day of rest, unless a witness decided otherwise.
She pulled the covers over her head, curling up under them and closing her eyes to go back to sleep, when the buzzing started again. With the eyes still shut, she let her right hand grab the devil's gadget off the bedside table, her covers sliding to the floor.
Opening one eye, she saw the call came from her partner. "You better have a damn good reason to wake me up at," she opened her other eye and stared at the clock, "the crack of dawn." The red numbers showed quarter of nine in the morning.
"Who's Loren?" A very feminine voice came out of the phone. . Mary sat up in bed, no longer sure that she saw the name 'Marshall' flash on the screen and looked at the phone again. And there it was, her partner's name lit in white letters across the screen of her iPhone. "Abigail? Did something happen to Marshall?"
"What? No! Mary. Who. Is. Loren?" Abigail said through her clenched teeth.
"Where's my partner, Detective? Why are you using his phone?"
"Answer my question, Mary!"
Mary hung up the phone. Whatever was going on between Marshall and Abby wasn't her concern. But the fact that an APD Detective had the nerve to use the phone of a US Marshal, and a Marshal working for the Witness Protection Program no less, was definitely against every security protocol. Fully awake now, she hit the speed dial two and waited for all hell to break loose.
-o-o-
Stephanie smirked at the scene that was unfolding on the other side of the window panels. Sitting in the conference room of the Sunshine Building, she was listening through the open door at her marshals' bickering with one another. While not unusual, the argument was getting quite heated, as they went on and on about a phone lock code, that apparently had been too easy to guess, and Mary was giving a very angry Marshall a hard time.
"Sweet Jesus! What possessed you to use your mother's birthday for the code? Even Delia could have guessed that!" said Mary, while sorting through a stack of files on her desk. "You're such a mama's boy!"
"Just drop it, Mary. We have other things to do right now," her partner answered, watching Steph fidget in her chair in the conference room and look at her watch. Grabbing his own stack of papers, he walked to the door, and asked while passing in front of Mary's desk, "Dickie call?"
Stephanie's head jerked up at the mention of the familiar nickname. Dickie? What was the horse's ass doing here? Her mind wandered to her ex-husband, and of course the first memory was of him playing hide the salami with Joyce Barnhardt on her beautiful dining room table.
"Dickie?" she asked Marshall with narrowed eyes.
He studied her carefully, while settling into a chair on the other side of the oak table in the conference room. "Richard Donaldson, the ADA in charge of your case. He'll liaise with the ADA in New Jersey." He glanced at his watch. "Should be here in a few minutes."
Marshall saw her relax against the back of her chair, and made a mental note to check for a 'Dickie' in her file. Steph shot a sideways glance at Mary, who was still at her desk, talking on the phone, and leaned forward to the man in front of her.
"How long have you been together?" she mouthed.
Marshall looked up at her over the paper sheet he was holding. "We're not together. But partners since 2002."
"Really? Why? Is it against the rules?"
"No, strictly speaking there's no official anti-fraternization policy, though, it's usually frowned upon. But in reality, it just… " Marshall paused for a second, trying to find the right word, "didn't happen."
"Well, Dickie will be here in ten. He's got the dates for the trial. You ready for this?" Mary asked, storming into the room. She knew the woman sitting in front of her partner had the power to bring down the entire Farlicorne family with her testimony during the trial. Several parallel investigations into every aspect of their business had already started under the RICO act.
"No. I'm scared. I don't want to think about the things that could happen to my family and friends. Or you when we get to New Jersey. And if they get their hands on me…" Stephanie's voice cracked, and she turned away from the marshals, trying to hide her tears. She had thought about going back to Jersey, more than once, even dreamed about it. And each time, she had felt the fear creeping up her spine, turning her insides to ice. She could just walk out of the building, leave Stephanie Vaughn behind, and settle somewhere else without having to face the Farlicorne. But she wouldn't be able to look at herself in a mirror for the rest of her life, if she did that. She wasn't a quitter.
She turned back, and faced the marshals, not caring about the tears sliding down on her cheeks. Thank God for the waterproof mascara, she thought. "I'm scared, but I'll do it. I have to, if I want to have my life back."
-o-o-
Very much bruised Tank entered the Haywood building on Monday morning. He was hurting in a lot of places, but wasn't about to acknowledge it to anyone, and even less to show the team he could actually be in pain. If Ranger could walk in as nothing had happened, so could he. What made him go on was the thought that Ranger had to be feeling pain too, as the blows he'd managed to land on his friend were likely to leave marks.
We should do this more often, he thought with a fleeting smirk. There's nothing like a sparring match with no holds barred to get the blood pumping. Both men had fought with all they had, neither wanting to give up his position. Ranger had scrambled the cameras, and Tank made sure no one would bother them, and whatever had happened in the gym stayed in the gym.
Now was the time to gather the core team and give them the orders for the weeks to come. If only he could make it through the day without limping … Tank walked into his office just to pick up his laptop before heading to the conference room, passing through the bullpen until he reached Lester's desk.
"Get Bobby. Conference room in five."
Lester nodded instead of making a usual crack in response. Judging by the look on Tank's face the matter was urgent, so he rose from his chair and hurried for the stairs.
-o-o-
"We have to bring down the Farlicorne family."
Ranger looked at his men, who'd gathered around the table. He saw a questioning glance Lester shot at Tank, and Bobby's knuckles turning white, from the tension between his entwined fingers. The only one who didn't show any surprise was Tank, for they had discussed this plan until late the previous night.
"We know that Stephanie was relocated to Albuquerque, under the protection of the Federal Marshals. The only people privy to this information are the core team and Hector. If this leaks out from RangeMan, the perpetrator will suffer the consequences." Ranger emphasized the last part of his sentence. He knew he could trust his men with his life, but sometimes, things that go without saying had to be said.
"I won't go to Albuquerque. Neither will Tank. Lester, you'll pick up Javier from Miami, and the two of you will take a trip to New Mexico. Under the radar. Your official business will be to look for a suitable building to establish RangeMan's presence in the SouthWest."
"In the meantime, we will use all of RangeMan's resources to bring down the Falicorne family. If we can get the feds enough evidence, Stephanie's testimony won't be necessary and she'll be able to come back to Trenton. This will be 'Operation Jellyfish'."
"You're sending me on a suit-and-tie mission? With Javier? Why don't you go?" Lester asked finally. "You want me dead? That's it, you want me dead."
"I can't go because the marshals aren't stupid and will have linked the jet to RangeMan. And I'm certainly under monitoring. If I move around the country, I'll be tracked. If I head west, they'll move Steph again and we'll have to start from square one. So I'll stay in Trenton to make sure I'm seen, while my cousin visits family in Miami and then takes a trip with my brother. What you both do with your free time is not my concern."
A knock on the door interrupted Ranger, and Hector strode into the room, a file in his hands. He gave it to Ranger, and walked out just as swiftly as he'd walked in.
Inside the file were four folders marked 'Confidential' ", which the boss handed out to the team, before opening his own.
"This is what we have on the female marshal, and on the Farlicorne family. We meet tomorrow at zero six hundred hours to plan the rest of the op. Dismissed."
Picking up their folders, the three guys headed for the door when Ranger spoke again. "Tank, hang back."
Lester patted the big man on the shoulder with an apologetic glance, and Bobby whispered "Come downstairs if you need fixing later," before mimicking Lester's gesture and leaving the room.
Tank closed the door, reached for his courage –again – and turned to face his boss.
"That was one hell of a fight," said Ranger.
"That was one hell of a disagreement."
"Glad we could come to an understanding."
Tank nodded.
"That was one hell of an arm-lock. We should do that more often," Ranger added with a barely there smirk.
"Not too often, though. The guys might freak out." And without another word, Tank left the conference room.
Ranger followed suit, heading into his office to review the file Hector had given him.
-o-o-
"Marshall?" The voice of his co-worker roused the marshal out of his reverie. "This is the information you wanted for the Vaughn case. Names and addresses of the companies she'd worked for, employee backgrounds and anything else I could dig up. Have fun."
"Thanks, Delia," said Marshall, taking the file. "I'll make Mary a copy."
Marshall had left his partner was still in the large conference room, reviewing the details of the case with Stephanie and Dickie. He had been called by one of his witness and had headed out of the large room to take care of him. The meeting went well, based on the trial dates Donaldson had given them, they would be back in New Jersey in February. This would give them a month to plan for all possible contingencies from the trip to accommodations, and prepare Steph for taking the witness stand. Afterward, who knew… if the danger of retribution was still present, Steph would be brought back to Albuquerque or relocated someplace else. The Marshals Service didn't take chances with the lives of witnesses in mob cases. Marshall sighed, thinking that Mary would have to tell Stephanie that she might not be able to return to Trenton after the trial.
He was about to go back into the conference room when his phone rang, taking his attention away from the meeting. "Marshall Mann," he answered in his professional tone.
He closed his eyes in exasperation, when he heard the voice at the other end of the line."Maybe, because you used a federal device to satisfy your curiosity, Abigail."
The frown between is eyes deepened, as he went on, "Now, did you call me on official business? If not, this can wait until tonight. Contrary to popular belief, I too have important work to do."
He hung up, glad that Mary wasn't there to give him hell for his fiancée's phone call. The day before, he'd been unpleasantly surprised, when his phone had suddenly stopped working, not letting him make or receive calls. What had disturbed him further though, was Stan's call on their house phone, ordering him to come into the office a.s.a.p., and the lecture he'd received from the boss upon getting there. Marshall was still angry at Abigail for her continuous jealousy, but moreover for breaking the unspoken rule of never messing with his job, and in turn he'd do his damnedest not to mess with hers. And of course, after Marshall had gotten back home, they'd had another row about his job, his partner, and their stalled wedding plans.
Not now, he thought. Focus.
He forced his eyes back to the file he'd been studying when his phone rang to continue reading and taking notes. He lost himself in the task, until a name jumped out at him. He grabbed the phone and dialed a number with the Washington area code and, while he waited, watched the conference room to make sure Mary wasn't about to head back to her desk.
"Eleanor? This is Marshall. Very well, thank you. Listen, I need a favor. Can you run a search for me? Uh-huh, on the down low. I'll owe you one. Sure, I'll wait. The name's Mañoso. Ricardo Carlos. When do you think you'll have it ready? That'd be great, thank you." He hung up the phone and muttered under his breath, "Long time, no see, Mañoso,"
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