the mother to known gang members, Raul “Blackie” Merides and his brother Stuart “Smidge” Merides, whose father had done two stints in prison before being killed in a prison fight. By the time they had a warrant to search, the residents still hadn’t returned, and a possible crime scene was contaminated by bleach. No drugs were found.
Three days later, a man was admitted to a San Antonio hospital with an infection from a gunshot wound. He refused to talk. The police were called—SAPD—but no one had made the connection with the call in Travis County from three days earlier. Two completely different jurisdictions, but if Aggie had seen this earlier, she would have been suspicious.
The police had the bullet that the hospital extracted from the victim, Malcolm “Mitts” Vasquez, thirty-one, of San Antonio. He was released and ordered to come to a court hearing—scheduled for yesterday—but he’d never shown up and a bench warrant had been issued. He had a record—including time served for drug possession and intent to sell—but had been clean for a couple of years. Until now.
She made a note of his last known address and associates, and when she read his file learned he ran around with the Saints back in the day. The gang had more or less disbanded, but the nearly defunct Saints had been rivals of the Merides gang. The connection was as clear as day. The Saints had hit the Merides house, Vasquez was shot.
She didn’t have a ballistics report, but that would be easy to get. They also might not have had a chance to test ballistics yet. They were running a two-to-three-week backlog if it wasn’t a priority case. Even then, they’d be at least a week out.
This might not be related to the drugs in Nate Dunning’s truck, but it was an outlier and it landed in her time window. Brad had taught her how to think like a criminal, and if she were a gangbanger who wanted to plant drugs on a federal agent, she wouldn’t use her own stash—she’d steal it from someone else. Especially if by stealing it she’d cause trouble for people she didn’t like, trouble that would benefit her.
She jotted down her notes and ran to Brad’s office.
He wasn’t there.
She glanced at her watch. He’d said fifteen minutes—sure, the construction could have delayed him longer—but it had been more than forty minutes since she got off the phone with him.
She called his cell phone.
It went straight to voice mail.
She tracked down Brad’s administrative assistant. “Rena, I need to ping Brad, he’s not answering.”
Rena Abrams eyed her suspiciously. It was an unusual request, though not unheard of. Aggie often tracked agents when they were working, especially during a dangerous op. She could have done it herself, but she was trying to go through channels after being hand-slapped a few times for cutting corners.
“I’ll take the heat if he gets mad, but he was supposed to be here, and he might be investigating something hot.”
Rena didn’t say anything, but she turned to her computer and started clicking. She frowned. Clicked again. Then she said, “His phone is not responding, it’s off. But the last ping showed him a block away, on Desert Sands.”
That was the back road into the DEA office, which was a nondescript building they shared with the sheriff’s narcotics division. It wasn’t a secret location, but it was tucked away without signage.
“I don’t know what’s going on, I need you to raise the threat level.”
“I need to talk to the SSA. If Donnelly is really in trouble—”
“I’ll talk to him,” Aggie said. Brad’s second in charge was Martin Salter, a quiet agent who looked intimidating, but was soft-spoken.
Martin was in his office. She explained what was going on as calmly as possible. Fortunately, Martin was sharp. He pulled his gun from his drawer and called two agents to accompany them. Even though the ping came from a block and a half away, they drove in a tactical truck to the location.
Brad’s car was parked at an angle on the side of the road. It had a flat tire and the airbag had been deployed.
Why hadn’t he called?
Martin said, “Proceed with caution.”
The two agents approached the car and Aggie stayed back with Martin, watching the surroundings. She noticed that there was a security camera on the corner of a small, fenced utility building.
One of the agents retrieved a phone from the ground. It had been smashed. It looked intentional, as if someone slammed their