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“We lost our best trader,” McConnell said. “Product stalled.”
“Lost or fired?” Luis countered.
“He wasn’t adhering to company policy.”
“Levi?” Marsh prompted.
“Hold,” he answered. “Not enough yet.”
Marsh wanted to say something to Luis, to provide him some encouragement; they were so close, but the chef had elected not to go two-way on the comms, afraid he might give away the op with his reactions.
“Got the masa,” Brax said. “Ward purchased it two days before his death.”
“Haven’t found it sold yet, but McConnell’s an alias,” Jamie said. “Real name is Joseph Gallagher. Specializes in laundering money for white-collar criminals. Explains the Brioni suit.”
A few quick keystrokes after that, Brax chimed in. “Got him. Was operating out of Chicago until he moved west two years ago. LAPD and SD Sheriff have both brought him in for questioning, multiple times.”
“I need assurances,” Luis said to Gallagher. “None of this can get back to RWK.”
“We had the same agreement with Mr. Ward. We’ll honor that, if you have what we’re looking for.”
“Flash drives.” Luis clicked them together twice, the signal they’d agreed on.
“Talley, Henby,” Levi said. “First position. Farmer, hold.” The moment Luis handed over those flash drives, he would be at his most vulnerable, no longer of use to Gallagher. The tactical teams had to be ready to act.
“These contain all of Ward’s invoices and records,” Luis said, as they’d also rehearsed. “The dirty money you sent him, what he bought, what he sold, and the clean money he returned. This is what you need?”
“Are there any other copies?”
“None. I didn’t figure that would win me any business.”
“The masa was sold,” Jamie said. “But neither the product nor the money was delivered. Holy shit.”
“What?” Marsh said, whipping his gaze to him.
Jamie dragged a phone log onto the middle monitor, a row highlighted. “Ward called the sheriff’s department with a tip the night before he was killed. They never called him back.”
“So that’s why local is so determined to ignore this,” Marsh said.
“And that’s why Ward was killed,” Levi said. “Final straw.”
“And now,” Brax said, “the cops are gonna ignore it again to cover their own incompetence and a leak.”
“At the expense of Press’s safety,” Farmer chimed in. “Fuck that.”
His vehemence almost distracted Marsh from the conversation still going on the other end of the comm. “I can move this masa by tomorrow,” Luis said. “I can move more.”
“All right, Mr. Rivera. If the money is in the accounts by tomorrow morning, we can work together.”
“And if it’s not?”
“Then you’ll be fired too.”
“Talley, Henby, go!” Levi ordered. “Farmer, back up!”
Chaos erupted over the comms, Marsh watching as FBI agents streamed into the unit, catching Gallagher and Bruiser off guard, Aidan and Charlie taking them down before they could draw the weapons they were carrying, and giving the rest of the agents time to form a wall around Luis.
By the time Levi made it down from the roof and into the unit, Gallagher and Bruiser were in cuffs and being read their rights.
