191
191
NICO
In the industrial district of Dublin was an abandoned warehouse that could have appeared in one of those movies where federal agents set up secret rendezvous: barren, concrete floors; windows busted out; enough exits to ensure everyone felt a little too hunted. Agent Rodriguez is at the center of the room with two goons and every inch of her just screams ‘I have never lost a major case of confidence.’
"Mr and Mrs O'Brien," she says, employing the Irish aliases we have established in the meantime. “I guess I should call you Mr. Ferrari and Ms. Taylor, though”
“Those people are dead,” Jasmine says matter-of-factly. We are private citizens as well who may have information of use to your investigation.
“The private citizens, who single-handedly dismantled the Moretti crime syndicate and absconded with fifty million dollars of federal evidence.” Rodriguez edges nearer, her brown eyes boring into our own. “The biggest crime scene in the history of New York, left by private citizens.”
"Allegedly," I add. "Because there is no evidence that links us to any of those events.”
"Isn't there?" A moment ago, she produced a tablet on which we can see surveillance stills shadowy figures that might be any of us, records of wire transactions possibly linked to our fates, and dissatisfying reports from witnesses. A solid six months of an investigation has brought me a pretty fine understanding the night it took place.
"If so, why don't you issue arrest warrants?” Jasmine asks.
"Obviously, because I am more curious about what you can do for me than what I could catch you doing to me. " Rodriguez motions for us to take the chairs surrounding the folding table her people have laid. “Agent Chen, my predecessor, was crooked. Anything she touched, anything she brokered, any investigation she ran—it all now stinks."
"Including the evidence against us?"
"Including everything." She finally sits down across from us “In other words, I am in the driver's seat to begin again, negotiate fresh contracts, follow new priorities.”
"What kind of priorities?"
“The sort where, instead of trying to nab two people who have been holed up in a clubhouse as sheep farmers for the past six months, you took down organized crime syndicates across half a dozen states.” Rodriguez pulls out a file folder stuffed with pictures and papers. “I need solid cases that are prosecutable against top major crime figures, not more federal resources on ghosts."
“You said we must rat on our cunt mates.”
That says, “we're looking for evidence that I could use to prosecute the ringleaders who are actively destroying people's lives today.” Rodriguez leans forward.
“Mr. Ferrari, can you tell me please how many mothers of those children in the photographs that you have shown us, how many of them are now orphans?”
"Dozens," I admit. "Maybe more."
“How many federal agents have they co-opted, how many judges have they bought, how many politicians nev…”
"Too many to count."
"Exactly." She closes the folder. "So here's my proposal. You give me all you have on current organized crime, records, places of operation, political links and I make you rich like Agent Chen never could.”
"What's that?"
"The complete immunity and the final cessation of federal involvement in your affairs." Rodriguez speaks in an almost rehearsed fashion.
"Sealed records, closed investigations, official death certificates for Nico Ferrari and Jasmine Taylor. No more watching our backs, no more aliases, no more running.”
"For selling out every person we've ever worked for?” Jasmine asked in disbelief.
“In return, for the families that these people destroyed to receive justice.” Rodriguez pulls out more files.
“I recognize that these families deserve justice. But there are other ways—"
"Are there?" Rodriguez interrupts.” Because in my seat, the justice system, as we know it, has been an utter disaster for these men. Corrupt agents, bought judges, damaged witnesses—the system I uphold has been infiltrated throughout.”
“Then what makes you so different from Agent Chen?”
“Internal Affairs did a three month full-press on my entire career before they assigned me to this task force. Every ledger entry, balance sheet, court or agency decision, working relationship.” Rodriguez's voice turns sharp.
"I'm clean, Mr. Ferrari. It's more than you can say for most of the G-Men who spent decades infiltrating organized crime.”
Jasmine and I eye each other over the table. “We know all too well that the federal system has been compromised by years of mob manipulation, but neither of us is prepared to take a gamble with another agent.”
"What guarantees do we have?" I ask.
“Beyond my word? None." Rodriguez's honesty is refreshing.
“But consider your alternatives. Run for the rest of your lives Transmogrifying and leaving everything you forge. Or you could take a stand here, and help me clean up the mess our organizations have left behind.”
“What guarantees us that when you get what you want, you won't change your mind?”
"Because I'm going to have to sign away my rights in favour of some quantified commitment or another." She produces what appear to be proffer agreements. Federal witness protection, top secret clearance, financial compensation for your cooperation. “All of it would be binding, and legally enforceable.”
“Then what if others come after us later?”
"They can't. When these documents are filed, your case falls in the highest level cases. Any agent investigating you is breaking a federal law.”
I pored over the documents for hours, feeling almost as if I could read code through them now that I understood how everything was put together and what protections they had. This was something greater than anything Agent Chen had ever offered--total immunity, a guaranteed end to all this, financial security for our children.
"There's something else," Rodriguez continues. Something you might be particularly interested in.
"What?"
"Isabella Moretti's adoption records. The real life of who she was, and where she had come from.” She puts a big file on the table “Her biological parents weren't Irish immigrants who died in a fire after all.”
Jasmine finds the file and reads it carefully, her face registering shock. The daughter of Viktor Kozlov?
The slain Russian arms dealer of Brighton Beach and 1995 Rodriguez nods. Isabella grew up in foster care after a few early years in the life of a Russian organized family. She was then adopted by Morettis.
Which completely explains why she is willing to break family codes. She wasn't adopted, okay other than adoption, the person who got you was planting.
"A grinding career-long deep-cover fed, who was raised to destroy the traditional Italian-American mafia.” Rodriguez's voice becomes grim. “Kozlov org has moved steeper assets into every significant organized crime organization for years now, just waiting to spring a power play and claim the turf and resources.”
"Are there others?"
"We think so. That is why I must determine allies of Russia within other clans………”She shows us more photographs.
"Most of these people could be unaware they are compromised. The Russians are doing it better for the longer haul.”
I look at the faces in pictures, I knew them from conference rooms, living rooms. The notion that Russian gangs have been quietly, systematically taking over from within La Cosa Nostra for decades is so diabolical and scary.
That being said, the whispers are loud enough to be overheard and one person near Jasmine finally says what everyone is thinking “end of everything,” she breathes.
“Your cooperation call to action changes,” says Rodriguez. “If your reason for destroying it is that you are turning on the people who did business with you, stop and realize what a foreign infiltration operation, which this could turn out to be considering all means not for just y'all but every family in the entire country.”
"Even the families who had nothing to do with our war."
"Exactly. Russians will not separate if they are the guilty parties or these genuinely innocent.” Rodriguez checks her watch. "I need an answer soon. I need to get this intel into my boss' hands before the op goes cold.”
While we were bearing witness "What of the children"
“They are currently in protective custody at a secure location in Ireland. Security, Schools, Doctors — Anything and everything they require while we check your profile full-time.” Rodriguez's expression softens slightly. “My children too, Ms. Taylor. I understand your concerns."
"For how long?"
"Six months, maybe less. Only the most honest until we find more of your shit to investigate, if you can give it to us and we can act on it.” She bends files and puts them away in her box. “But by the end of those six months, you will have something no one in your old life has.”
"What?"
"Freedom. True freedom provided and supported by the US government, secured in federal law.” Rodriguez stands. "Think about it. You have 48 hours to choose.
And here we are, with her crew putting away their gear and heading back from the warehouse — about to make the most important choice of our lives. One more chance in the federal system again, or continue on to be another lost generation of our children without culture and stability.
I shout after her as she is at the doorway, "Lead Rodriguez.”
"Yes?"
“The immunity agreements—they pertain to everything regarding Moretti?”
"Everything. Previous testimony, current testimony, and that to be given in the future.” She pauses. “Mr. Ferrari, I realize you have no cause to trust feds after what you've been through. But I can give you something Agent Chen never could — an actual clean slate.”
"Why us? Why not go to other witnesses, why not find other intelligence sources?"
"Because you guys have been the only ones to kick this in its nuts and walk away -- that's why." Smile from the time they began meeting and this smile had come from her heart. That is the kind of strategic thinking I want in my corner.
Once she's gone, Jasmine and I stay in the deserted warehouse sorting through all that we now know. With the revelation of who is really Isabella, then how deep are the Russians and up for first real freedom — damn that decision we need to make.
"What do you think?" I ask finally.
"We have been fighting other people's wars our entire lives I believe." She rises and goes to a shattered window where the industrial Dublin sky-line glowers at her. “And after that, your sister declares war on you… and then we declare war on the Moretti's…”
"And now?"
This time we have a chance to end all the wars, now. For us, and for every family who has ended up stuck in the middle. She turns to face me. Rodriguez is wrong on the idea of "the people's justice," but when she says these dogs deserve justice, she's right about one thing.
"Most of the people who trusted us are now dead." Her voice is matter-of-fact. “And those still living made their bed by continuing to get rich off gun violence.”
"So we do this?"
"We do this." She returns to the table with the immunity deals Rodriguez set out. “But we do it on our terms, under our conditions and protections.”
"What kind of conditions?"
“The ones that ensure our kids never have to fear their mama's living in the lion's den.” She picks up the documents. “And the kind that ensures Agent Rodriguez will spend the long dark nights wondering what happens to people who cross our family.”