Retribution

By Tom Lee

While Ryan struggles to find his missing wife, his friends have been tasked with an investigation of the Defense Intelligence Agency. An investigation that involves finding a covert agent operating inside the agency. For Ryan, his only clue is a is a picture of his RV crossing into Mexico from El Paso, Texas. How these two arbitrary events intersect into the lives of people, is like a pebble in a pond with the ripples spreading out affecting everything and everyone till the ripples lap up onto the shore. Retribution is the fourth book in the Ryan series with his first two books both being nominated for the CIPA EVVY award.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outskirts Press
• Release date: Feb 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9781977272836

Tom Lee

Tom Lee is a graduate of Michigan State University. He is a retired Marine of twenty years. After retirement he trained to fly aircraft, eventually flying Medivac, corporate, and finally for the airlines commercially. Now retired from the airlines he has settled into his third career as an author. Tom’s other books are - There’s a Turtle on the Runway and other flying stories. Retribution is Tom’s fourth book in the series involving Ryan, Scout, Gunny, Cate, Amanda and others. 

Book preview

Slang

Aerostat - Is a balloon that is flown along the Southern Border of the United States at several locations. It carries an electronic suite of equipment that can detect and monitor the border day, night, and in inclement weather.

Halcone - Is a Spanish term for falcon. In drug cartels these are the people who watch and report everything to their boss. They are the eyes and ears.

Sicarios - Are the cartel’s assassins.

Church meeting - Is slang used in biker gangs. It is when they gather together at their clubhouse to discuss business, hand out discipline, and or decide on courses of action.

Detcord - Detonation cord. It is a thin, flexible plastic tube usually filled with pentaerythritol tetranitrate (PETN) explosive and can look much like rope. It burns at a fast rate anywhere from 23000 ft per second to 26000 ft per sec. It is used to set off explosives and can be set off with a blasting cap or with an electronic plunger. It was invented in 1908 in France.

1

MISSING

It was Wednesday, and Ryan was at his usual spot toward the back end of the bar sipping on a coke. He had on an old pair of jeans that Cate had told him to throw away. His response was that they were comfortable, so he kept them. On the other hand he had conceded to her request to get a new pair of tennis shoes along with socks, and he even bought a new shirt to go with the tennis shoes. He looked at himself in the mirrors behind the bar and felt that he was more than adequately dressed. He had a suit in his closet in the apartment, but that was only used these days for funerals and weddings, neither of which had happened in a very long time. In official business meetings he would wear a collared shirt, but no ties or suits.

It was 2:00 p.m. and the small lunch crowd had all but come and gone. He was happy that the bar had slowed down. Ever since he and Scout had returned to Corning, New York, it had been a marathon sprint for him dealing with the week-long return party.

Cate had outdone herself this year. What started out as a small get together for the locals of the bar to welcome Scout back from her winter sojourn, had over the years grown into what this year was a full blown festival. The festival had, according to Corning police, drawn almost 30,000 attendees which included a parade with Scout as the Grand Marshal. There were fireworks at night and street bands during the weekend. The town had organized contests that included everything from a bartender’s obstacle course laid out on E. Main Street in front of the bar, to beer bong. There was even a fly-over by the local flying club. The event had run for nine days and ended last Sunday. People had come from all over the states to hail a dog that owned a bar.

Alongside Scout were tributes and even a float for Cate that portrayed her somewhere between Annie Oakley and a female version of the Terminator. It was a tribute to Cate’s heroic actions in the bar a year prior. The mayor of the town had delivered an exaggerated story of how Cate had saved one of her female patrons from a serial killer. His telling of the story lasted thirty minutes and when he was done the crowd was cheering and chanting - I’ll be back!

Now that the festival was over, the bar was returning to a semi-quasi normal atmosphere. There was always a news truck from somewhere around the country parked out back. Cate and Scout were national celebrities. That translated into at least a once-a-week news crew that would show up to do an interview of one or both of them, usually both.

As he sipped on his Coke, Ryan pondered why this whole Cate/Scout thing had taken on a life of its own. Their celebrity status had not seemed to have slowed down at all. He’d thought that their national attention from the TV broadcast with Jimmy Kimmel months ago would have slowly faded, but it had not. He glanced up at one of the TVs located around the bar and saw the news. It was more political in-fighting and generally horrible news stories spewed out by edgy commentators. It dawned on him that Cate and Scout’s national recognition probably was a result of the breath of fresh air the American public wanted and needed. Happy with his assessment, he turned toward Scout.

There she was on her throne asleep. She was a wired hair terrier not more than fifteen pounds. She was all white except for a black spot on her back that went down the right side of her. Her face was white except for a little brown of rustiness mixed in. Over her head and professionally installed was her marquee that had again been improved upon. The marquee was now a two-foot-by three banner that had been created and assembled by a local sign company. It proclaimed: THRONE OF SCOUT. Even her platform where she held court had been upgraded. It was adorned with regal tapestry and a beautifully sewn pillow with a crown stitched into the center of the pillow. While it was quite impressive from a professional point of view, Ryan decided he preferred the one the locals had made for her a while back - not because it was better, but because it was made by the people who had known and loved Scout long before she became famous.

As she slept he glanced around the establishment, noting that while not a dive bar - neither was it high-end. The bar did exude a quaint little charm that people seemed to enjoy. Ryan figured that quaint charm was what kept bringing people to the establishment. Cate and Scout were the major attractions, but the bar’s charm enhanced the patrons’ pleasant experience. While not a professional interior designer, he at that moment decided they needed to give the bar a new look. Cate, you have a moment?

Ryan could see that Cate was at the other end of the bar handing beers to one of several patrons at the time. She looked at Ryan and held up a hand. Susie, can you take over for a minute?

Susie was one of the waitresses who worked the day shift. Cate had hired her to work days as she was a single parent. That translated into the woman getting the afternoons and weekends off in order to take care of her little boy. When she had walked in several months ago looking for a job, Cate had immediately empathized with her situation and hired her. It had turned out to be a good decision, as she was hard-working, outgoing, and intelligent. Susie was by one of the tables at the moment cleaning up the lunch crowd’s mess. She looked up from her chore, Be right there, Cate.

Cate ambled down the bar to where Ryan was. With her elbows propped up on the bar top, she asked, What’s up?

He had to pause for a moment. Every once in a while her beauty caught him off guard. She was stunning at five-foot-seven inches with blond hair, blue eyes, long legs, and a white tank top with cut-off jeans. Today she had on a long sleeved shirt over her tank top that was not buttoned. When he first hired her he had wondered why Cate was not married or have a boyfriend. Then her ex had showed up weeks after the Jimmy Kimmel interview looking for money. When Cate had refused he had beaten her. Ryan had nearly killed the ex in a fight at the bar. For his assault on the ex, Ryan had been initially charged with attempted murder. When he was incarcerated at the Corning jail, she had told him her story. Eventually all that was resolved when Amanda stepped in.

Ah yes he thought - there was another enigma - Amanda. Amanda was smart, beautiful and also single.It was the why that intrigued him. His bet was that she was divorced, but every time Gunny and he began to discuss her background they came up empty as to her past. He knew she had been at least a field agent in Bulgaria. She spoke about that when they met there to eliminate Fation Gjoni. Except for that tidbit of information, her past life was a black hole. Ryan decided when he had some down time he would take a closer look. She was the Director of Covert Operations for the CIA. Which meant her past history had to be accessible somewhere. That somewhere is where he would start, when he had the time. Why not? he figured, she had dug into his past. Quid pro quo. His thoughts wandered back to the present.

It saddened Ryan that Cate had been so traumatized by her ex that she was unwilling to take that leap of faith into love again. And now, while he was not there when Cate hired Susie, he suspected that their stories were probably similar. That was fine with him. Good employees were hard to find. Fortunately for him both of them fit that mold. Soon, though, Cate was to become full owner of the bar, she just did not know that. It was his little secret and it made him smile.

Now, what is that smile for Ryan? Cate reached behind and grabbed herself a bottle of water.

I thought that maybe we need to update the bar. I think it may be getting a little dated. What do you think? He took a sip of his Coke. Cate’s response took him off guard as she just started to laugh. She reached under the bar top and pulled out two black note binders and set them in front of Ryan. They each looked about six inches thick stuffed with papers. What are these? He picked up the top note binder and flipped it open.

A little dated? This bar looks like it never left the 1920s! That binder you’re looking at includes artist renditions of our new interior. If you flip to the back you’ll see the cost analysis for the remodel. She took the binder from Ryan’s hand, closed it and set it to the side. You can study that later. Picking up the second binder she flipped it open and set it in front of Ryan.

This binder, she continued, has all the permits needed in addition to a structural engineering study done of this building. There are three businesses located in this structure, the Italian restaurant, the dress shop, plus us. The building is sound, but we need a new roof. The roof isn’t part of the total cost. This, she flipped to the back of the binder and extracted what looked like a car title but many pages longer, is the deed to the building that we now own.

Ryan was speechless. Finally, he murmured, How did this all happen?

She closed the binder and set it on top of the other one. "You can study all this later. It happened because you left me power-of-attorney to run the bar business. Susie pointed out this winter, while you were gone, that since we are now a thriving establishment with national recognition, the owner of the building would probably double our rent when the lease is up, and I like this place. So I contacted our lawyer and told him we wanted to buy the building. We set up a shell company in order to make the purchase. I wanted to hide us from the landlord. If he knew it was us that wanted to buy he would have jacked the price up.

I then contacted the other two businesses to complain about the old roof. That we were going to contact our lawyers and the town’s building inspectors about the roof issue. A new roof was the lynchpin that caused the owner to want to sell. He didn’t have the fifty-grand for the roof and our lawyer assured him that the roof would be a major point of contention. So he sold it to the shell company, conveniently forgetting to disclose the roof issue. Now, we own the building." She was all smiles.

Ryan sat there looking at Cate. And how are we going to pay for this? He saw a man in a business suit walk through the doorway and up to the bar top where Susie was stationed. Ryan wondered who this was. He didn’t look like a local. He saw Susie glance his way then back toward the mystery man.

We’re not paying for anything. It’s all paid for, said Cate as she swept her arms in a giant arc around the bar.

What! Ryan didn’t believe it. He was a little distracted because the man was headed their way. He asked, How?

Cate stared at him for a moment. Then said, Come on, Ryan, you can’t be that bad of a businessman - you run a bar.

The man was now standing by Ryan. He looked at Cate then turned to Ryan. You Ryan?

Ryan had an epiphany of doom slam into him. The man was wearing a crumpled up suit that probably came from JC Penney or some such retail establishment. The shirt was standard white with what looked to be a sweat stain around the inside of the collar. The shoes were black and in need of a serious shoeshine. He was a short man maybe five-foot-five at best, around a hundred and twenty pounds Ryan figured. He had thinning brown hair, but his eyes were sharp, clear. Ryan pegged him as some kind of law enforcement, which one he was not sure. He held up his hand to the man. Just a moment please. Okay, Cate, how is that possible?

Cate had to explain that for the television show with Kimmel, the bar received a stipend. Then there was the going away party and return party for Scout. Just between those events she had deposited enough money to pay for everything. You do know, Ryan, just for the return party we charged a five dollar cover charge for the bar and five dollars for a picture with Scout, and there was an estimated thirty thousand people in town last weekend. Not to mention the alcohol sales we did for the week.

Ryan was speechless. He was doing the math in his head and still could not come up with a figure. He noticed the gentleman was still there patiently waiting. He had his right hand in his pocket as he casually stood there waiting to get a word in.

Cate started to laugh, Why don’t you just check the bank account?

The man coughed.

Ryan now focused on the man. When he did a knot formed in his chest. What can I help you with?

Your son Walker said I could find you here. As he spoke he pulled out a black leather flip wallet from his jacket pocket and showed Ryan a badge. Colorado Bureau of Investigation, inspector Josh Warner. I was hoping to ask you some questions?

Ryan noticed that the man did not extend his hand for a handshake. Ryan looked at Cate. She had a look of - ‘what is going on?’ After a moment she headed for the other side of the bar. Ryan turned back to the officer. Is my son in some kind of trouble?

The man did not answer the question. Do you know where your wife is?

He saw the man now had a small notebook out with pen in hand. Now it felt like someone had grabbed his heart and was squeezing it. He heard a glass shatter on the other side of the bar. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Cate as she picked up the shards of glass. Stay calm, Ryan. She’s in Durango with her sister and brother-in-law on a RV trip. He watched as the man wrote it all down in his notebook.

He looked up from his notes. Would you mind giving her a call?

Sure. Ryan picked up his phone from the bar top and called, then waited. A moment later her voice mail came that said to leave a message. Ryan did, asking her to call. Next he went to text. He explained to the inspector that she rarely answered her phone. Which always meant he had to text her. He hit the Send button.

I should hear from her shortly. The inspector asked for her phone number. Ryan pulled it out of his contacts and showed it to him. He noticed that Cate was standing a little closer to the two of them than he thought was normal. Ryan took his phone and dialed, a moment later. Hey, January, I was trying to get a hold of my wife. Is she around?

Ryan saw his reflection in the mirror facade behind the bar. His face had transformed into a blank expression. He saw Cate involuntarily take a half a step back. Ryan hung up his phone.

Inspector Warner looked at Cate, then Ryan. Without a word he reached into his crumpled suit jacket, pulled a picture out and handed it over to Ryan. Do you recognize the vehicle?

Ryan took the photo and studied it for a full minute. It was her RV, a forty-two foot Monaco Dynasty with a crack across the top of the windshield. He recognized the little silver Bose radio on the dash along with the tire pressure measuring device. When they traveled together they’d listen to audio books on the Bose. The man behind the wheel looked to be Hispanic as did the man in the passenger seat. Looking up from the photo. It’s hers. Where did you get the photo?

The inspector was writing again. Who did you just talk to?

You didn’t answer my last two questions. Ryan’s voice was a decibel lower and the tone was more of a command than a question.

Your son is fine. Without the vehicle registration we had a hell of a time finding a real address. When we did, it was your son who answered the door. He told us how to find you.

Ryan’s phone began to ring. He looked at Cate, not the inspector. Excuse me, I have to answer this. Hey, son, how are things? Yeah, there’s a CBI inspector here now. Don’t know, but don’t panic. We’ll get this all sorted out. Let me call you back in an hour, all right? Take care, love you.

He disconnected and turned to the inspector. Mr. Warner, where did you get the photo and where is the RV? A glance at Cate, reminded him to not lose his composure now. He and the inspector made eye contact for a long moment.

Sir, the RV photo was taken at the Mexican border as it crossed from El Paso into Juarez. The border patrol inspection of the vehicle turned up nothing except the three Hispanic males that were using it. We think they’re members of the Juarez drug cartel. Warner softened his voice. Would you mind telling me who January is and what was said?

Ryan looked at his hands folded on the bar top. That’s my sister-in-law. She and her husband are in Durango at the Alpine RV Park. She said my wife left three days ago to go to Farmington, New Mexico. She was to have some service work done on the engine. They haven’t heard from her since.

Warner wrote it all down in his notebook. Sir, he reached into his