Ortega,” Delgado chortled. “She’s doing some of her charity work in the OLL clinic.”
Her heart sank. It wasn’t that Ariana wasn’t important, but she was easily accessible at her Beverly Hills vitamin juice spa. “You think she’s scheduled to give ole bro his vitamin boost?”
“Possible,” Kelso said. “It’s around the time he should be getting his next chemo round. We fucked up the last time when we thought it was down in South Central, but recent intel is pointing to the Valley. Maybe in one of the clinics.”
“Problem is Guzman from Bravo went undercover in that clinic the last time Ariana was there six weeks ago and nothing was out of the ordinary,” Delgado said.
“He did? Why weren’t we informed?” she demanded.
“Beats me. It was on the shared division database when I pulled up what we had on the clinic,” the Hispanic detective replied.
Just then, their captain walked in. “Tell me good news, people. Nadia just informed me that Ortega’s sister is at the clinic. Do we have enough intel to investigate?”
Nadia Powell was their crime and forensic analyst. She wore several hats. After the fentanyl attacks, she’d been reassigned from the Criminalistics Laboratory to work for the GHD full-time. Her state-of-the-art lab was located in the adjacent room, a bit out of place in the old building, but it had the necessary equipment such as a glove box to isolate a toxin. She also had the technical skills for analyzing trigger devices. The ones used in the shopping mall attack was pressure activated similar to stepping on a landmine.
“Might be a good idea to walk in, look around,” Gabby said. “I could go in with Delgado. Less suspicious. If we see any of Ortega’s associates hanging around, he should be close by. We hear he never goes months without seeing his sister and our intel is telling us, he is due.”
“You should be resting, Gabby,” Kelso said.
“I’m already here and I don’t care if this sounds personal. I’m sure he was the one who attacked us last Monday.”
Delgado grinned at her partner and Chen. “You know you can’t stop Woodward. Concussion or not.” Then he turned his eyes on Gabby. “You sure you’re up for this, white girl?”
“Just try and stop me,” she replied.
The drive to the Valley was uneventful, but it was laced with trepidation. She’d made this drive regularly and had no idea why this time was different. The San Fernando Valley had seen a surge of gang-on-gang violence in recent years. Studies showed it was mainly turf wars due to the rise in the drug trade, prostitution, and sale of illegal weapons. For Gabby it was so much more. It was the place where her young dreams died, and the place where she rose up from their ashes.
This was her city and she would continue to fight for it and, try, as much as possible, to make it safe for the citizens of Los Angeles. That was her oath when she graduated from the academy.
She looked at Kelso, who was driving their department-issued Suburban. He was unusually quiet, his jawline tense, lost in his own thoughts. Rather than engage him in conversation, she let her eyes take in the diverse skyline of Los Angeles as their SUV traversed the 101.
The City of Angels.
A city of ten million souls.
And they were its guardians.
Buildings rose high and low. The smog the city was known for was surprisingly missing today and yet the traffic was the usual. Cars crawled at a snail’s pace— impatient drivers, blaring horns, and road rage—just another day in LA. Neighborhoods so different from one zip code to the next. From the luxuries of Beverly Hills to the graffitied walls of Van Nuys.
A sigh escaped Kelso when he took the exit for the Valley. Under the overpass, the marks of the gangs were painted on full display. There were four hundred gangs just in Los Angeles. Major groups splintered into smaller ones and spread, but someone held them all in the palm of his hand.
Ortega.
His connections to the cartels and arms dealers were making this possible but allegiances shifted all the time. The power struggles, and his rumored cancer, sent the crime boss into hiding. There was another rumor that he’d arranged for Ariana to marry a cartel boss, cementing their alliance, but she was resistant to the plans and was under heavy guard.
They turned from Haynes Street onto Van Nuys, passing commercial streets with more short-term and long-term storage companies and warehouses per mile