Enemy in Blue (9 page)

Diego was a hardcore activist. He lived in the streets and fought for rights in the fields. He was a devout, outspoken Marxist. On the other hand, Sandra's dad took a moderate approach and attempted to integrate capitalism into his life while still serving the general good of the community. To Diego, capitalismo would slowly turn the whole world over into “sheeple,” as he called them. Sandra's father was skeptical of capitalism, but figured that a better path than fighting it was to use it to advance the goals of the community. While Diego would have everyone live on a farm and support one another, Sandra's dad would have people be productive members of the great, capitalist machine.

In any event, the two men used to co-exist amicably. They were two great champions who respected each other's intelligence and their joint dedication to their shared community.

That amicable relationship ended abruptly when Diego published a column in a local newspaper slamming the fact that Sandra's father endorsed the development of a research facility for an oil and gas company on land owned by community members. In turn, Sandra's father used his connections as a professor at a national university to lambast Diego in the local media. What followed was an Ali-Foreman throw down between the two men which ended on a hot July night when Diego cracked Sandra's father across the forehead with a half-full bottle of Dos Equis.

When Sandra didn't respond, Diego turned around and moved back to study his rose garden.

“
So,” he started slowly, “what do you two need from me? Or, let me rephrase. What do you two need from me that your own families could not provide?” Cruz could see the left side of Diego's long mustache flicker, most likely in light amusement.

“
What we've got is a little less ivory tower and a bit more...”

“
Zapatista?” Diego asked, finishing Cruz's sentence.

“
Yeah, you could say that. We're going to need some protection.”

Diego stopped scanning his flowers and without turning said, “It's that serious?”

“
Yes,” Sandra answered. “I was two steps from dying today!”

“
Ayy,” Diego groaned, “who would harm a hair on your pretty head?”

“
The Sergeant in the police department who wants what we have.” That piqued Diego's interest enough to get him to turn around.

“
La polic
í
a?
”

“
Yeah,” Cruz answered. “This is connected to the slaying of Livan Rodriguez.”

“
El Caballo?”

“
Who?”

“
Livan Rodriguez—
El Caballo
. He got that name because back in the day, and I'm talking way back, he used to come to protests on a horse. Freakin' crazy dude,” Diego said with a reminiscent smile on his face.

“
Well, I'm sure you've heard about it.”

“
Por supuesto…
of course I've heard. Don't forget who's green around here!”

“
Listen, Diego,” Sandra said raising her voice, “we are here despite my better judgment and we aren't goddamn kids anymore. So treat us with some respect, especially in a situation like this.”

He shrugged off her attitude. “You know that coming to me for something related to
la polic
í
a
is dangerous, right?
Esos cochinos
and I don't get along. Look, look here!” Diego said excitedly drawing them to a particular rose bush.

“
See that?” Diego asked pointing to a stem on the rose bush.

“
No, what are you looking at?” Cruz asked impatiently.

“
It's an aphid.”

“
Okay, why the hell does that matter?” Sandra asked.

“
Because the cops are like these damn aphids. We build beautiful things in our community. We start beautiful families. We raise beautiful families. But, it's all as delicate as this rose.” Diego reached towards the stem and held it up as the aphid moved slowly in the opposite direction of his hand.

“
Then these little
putos
come along and start to destroy what we've built. It isn't fast or visible. If it was, our reaction would be violent and they can't have that. It's slow, degrading. Small bite by small bite. Once you recognize that they are there though, they
must
be dealt with.” Diego pinched the aphid between his fingernails. “Understanding my philosophy, are you still interested in my help?”

Cruz and Sandra looked at one another. They knew Diego was the only alternative. He was the only one that would fight fire with fire. Nothing else would do. They turned back to Diego at the same time and said, “Yes.”

* * * *

Carmen ran to the car and took Alicia into her arms. They stood there for some time before Carmen led Alicia inside the house.

“
Sit down
preciosa
,” Carmen said as she directed Alicia into a lazy chair. “I want you to know we're here for anything you need, okay?”

“
Yes Carmen, I know,” Alicia said as she wiped tears from her face.

Carmen turned to Martinez, her face changed instantaneously, “
Que paso aqui?
How did you let this happen?”

“
It's not really that simple Carmen. This…this situation...”

“
It was Shaver and his racist punks, huh?” she asked.

Martinez took a second to gather himself before responding, “Yeah, and it's Shaver and Tomko after us.”

“
Not to mention the Chief now,” Alicia added.

“
She's right,” Martinez said. “We just met with the Chief and he knows what we got.”

“
Pues
, are you going to finally tell me what you have?”

“
It's a video of Shaver killing that old man a couple days ago.”

“
No puede ser!
” Carmen said as she sat down.
“No wonder he's going nuts trying to get it.”

“
Right, and that's why we need to figure out a game plan,” Martinez said as he went to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass of water and rejoined the women. “I only see one option for you two, which is for both of you to leave.”

“
No way
hombre—
this is our home and I'm not running!” Carmen exclaimed.

Martinez cherished how strong Carmen could be. However, a companion of strength is usually stubbornness—and she was no exception. He knew this mini-battle would erupt and that he would have to win. He looked Carmen directly in the eyes and said, “I'm not giving you a choice. What's up is bigger than both of us. It was bigger than us when Shaver murdered that innocent man, and became even bigger after they killed Alvin.”

“
I know this is bigger than us! That's why I want to stay and help!”

“
Any help you give by staying is outweighed by the risk of having you here. If Shaver is able to leverage me through you, the whole situation is fucked.”

Martinez could see the disappointment in Carmen's eyes as she considered what he was saying. “The greatest sacrifice is for you to leave what you know, what is yours, and where you feel safe. But it's necessary.” Martinez looked at both women without an ounce of doubt. They sat near to each other on the couch as this all set in.

“
Let's say we do leave,” Alicia began, “what are you going to do here all alone?”

Martinez looked at Alicia. “Fight. Fight for your husband and against that bastard Shaver. It's time to strike back.”

F O U R T E E N

__________________________________________________

T
he Chief watched as his phone blinked with each ring-tone. He was a small, wiry man with a busy mustache and salt and pepper hair. He impatiently tapped his fingers on his desk.

The Chief was an unlikely person for his position. He wasn't a jock, or excessively predisposed to violence or “action.” He didn't come from a police or military family. But, what he lacked in physical prowess he made up for in mental ruthlessness. His mind and his willingness to use his mind as a weapon helped him rise through the ranks and beyond other candidates.

This was his ninth year as the department's chief, so plenty of instances of police brutality crossed his desk. None of them were ever filmed though. This was novel, but the challenge would drive him. The chance to wield his nearly limitless power was also attractive.

The other line picked up, “Who is this?”

“
It's your old friend from the department.”

“
No shit…haven't I repaid my debt to you?”

“
Not quite. Hell, maybe not ever!” The Chief had an extensive list of debtors. Looking the other way, filing “half-truth” reports, and letting guys slide all came with a price—and the Chief never forgot who owed or how much. The how much part was always open to his interpretation.

“
What is it?” The Chief laughed at this game Tyler played. The “no-you-are-twisting-my-arm-to-do-this” game. The truth, which both of them knew, was that Tyler was a lifelong criminal with a lust for violence. When he could get his rocks off
and
have the Chief's backing, well, there was nothing better.

“
I've got two sets of problems, both emanating from my department. All of them are connected to the shooting of that old Mexican guy a few days ago. Five of my men were there, and two of 'em just killed each other yesterday. That leaves three: Roman Martinez, Ben Tomko and Sergeant Colin Shaver. The whopper here is that Sergeant Shaver shot and killed that old man while a cameramen was filming an episode of
Police
.”

“
So you want me to take 'em all out?”

“
No, no...not yet, tiger. If you kill them all, then I never get my video. No, I'm hoping Shaver can do his job and recover that video. But, you know what my grandpa used to say to me?” Tyler was silent. “Hope in one hand and shit in the other and see which fills up first. I'm not counting on anyone coming through for me—except you.”

“
Then, you've got nothing for me to do?”

“
Not yet, but I want you to be eager, willing and ready the next time I call you.”

“
Eager is for the weak,” Tyler responded, “I'll be willing and ready.”

* * * *

Tomko laughed nervously at what Shaver said but then stopped.

“
No way, Shaver—he asked you to do what?”

“
To kill you, Tomko. And he didn't ask, he told me.” Tomko watched Shaver play with the gun in his hand. His own gun was on the coffee table, too far for him to reach before Shaver could make his move.

“
You've done so much for me Tomko...”

“
I know! I just killed another cop to protect you!” Tomko blurted out.

Shaver grimaced. “I've already explained you are helping yourself just as much as me Tomko. Nothing more I can do anyway man, this is out of my hands.”

“
Out of your hands?” Tomko asked incredulously. “No... it's actually right in your fucking hands!”

“
Well, what I mean is that the decision of whether to kill you or not is not up to me.”

“
Who the hell is it up to then?”

“
Some would say the Chief. But, in this case he just planted the seed.” Holding his gun up Shaver added, “It's up to Mr. Colt to decide whether to water.”

“
What the fuck—you're crazy.”

“
Bad tone Tomko. Harsh words. That's
probably
the wrong route to take given your current situation. But, I've got to tell you that Mr. Colt has always had a particular affinity for you and your loyalty.”

“
Well, thank God for Mr. Fucking Colt's
feelings
,” Tomko retorted sarcastically.

“
Tomko,” Shaver snapped, “I told you to watch it. You'll hurt his feelings.”

“
Jesus, you
are
crazy.”

“
Guilty as charged!” Shaver said with an enormous smile. “I talk to a gun, and it makes life and death decisions for me. That's why you are so shit-your-pants afraid of me, Tomko.”

Shaver stood up and circled Tomko. “You see, my old friend, this meek shall inherit the Earth bullshit is just that. Power rules. Inspiring fear in others creates power. People whine that if you rule with an iron fist no one will like you…waaa fucking waaa...” Shaver's face had become red and contorted. The veins in his head bulged. “Since when did a man's value come from how fucking popular or well-liked he was? That's a tool of the weak, Tomko. They create fictions, values—for self-preservation. I've gone beyond what society tells me is good or bad. I just ask Mr. Colt.” Tomko could say nothing and just stared at Shaver. “And…he says…well lucky you...” Shaver looked at the gun. “Really?” Shaver put the it back into the holster on his hip and turned to Tomko. He whispered, “Mr. Colt must be feeling especially fucking generous today.” Shaver sat down on the couch to his left.