Rancho Buena Fortuna by Bill King

Author:Bill King [King, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-25T22:00:00+00:00

Pete Cortez arrived at his old desk the following morning to find a note from Jack Gonçalves saying that Reggie Calhoun wanted to talk to him that morning before he returned to Washington. The note said for him to be in the JTTF’s interview room BRAVO on the fifth floor at seven-thirty. He glanced down at his wristwatch. It was seven-fifteen, which meant he still had time to pour himself a fresh cup of coffee without being late.

He arrived at the interview room precisely ten seconds early and found Calhoun squirming uncomfortably in one of the unpadded metal chairs, waiting for him. Gonçalves must have had someone swap out all the chairs in the room with metal folding chairs. Calhoun wore a look of impatience, illustrated by the fact that he kept checking his watch every ten seconds.

“It’s about time you showed up, Cortez,” he said, gesturing with his hand for Pete to sit in the chair directly across from him. “I only have about twenty minutes before I need to leave for the airport, so let’s make this quick.”

“I’m all ears, Agent Calhoun,” he said, with more than a hint of arrogance in his voice. “What is it that you’d like to talk to me about today?”

“Look, Cortez …”

“It’s Special Agent Cortez, if you don’t mind. If I can manage to be civil towards you, I think that, surely, you can extend me the same courtesy.”

Calhoun seemed to be momentarily taken aback, but he quickly regained his composure.

“Okay, Special Agent Cortez. I hope you do realize that I have you dead to rights, that carrying a dagger with a seven-inch blade is illegal in the state of Texas.”

“Yes, you brought that to my attention the other day. However, as a federal law enforcement officer, I am legally authorized to do any number of things that may not be permissible for the general populace. Besides, the Texas Legislature made seven-inch blades legal during the last session. If you’re going to charge someone against Texas law, at least try to stay current.”

“Just think of what kind of image you are presenting to the public at large…that of a rogue FBI agent carrying a killing blade, slashing throats, nearly decapitating innocent victims who have already indicated their intention to surrender.”

Cortez wasn’t worried about this man’s debating skills. Clearly, Calhoun was used to talking with people who shared his experiences, lawyers and bureaucrats who were more concerned with advancing their own careers. The fact that there were two completely different FBIs was never more evident than it was now in this room.

“The main image I’m concerned about is that of a still-living and breathing law enforcement officer who, by acting in self-defense, is still able to continue to serve the public by bringing criminals to justice. Is that too old-fashioned or simpleminded for you, Special Agent Calhoun?”

“Look, Cortez, if I really wanted to, I could recommend you be discharged from the Bureau and face criminal charges,” he said, trying to show his best sincere look.

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