Counterfeit Lies

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Jake dropped Tommy at his car and headed south on Vermont Avenue toward the freeway, hoping to get out of Koreatown quickly. He raced in and out of traffic, constantly checking his mirrors, looking for a tail. He doubted Tommy and the crew would try to follow him, but he was carrying more than four pounds of a controlled substance under the front seat. Like every good dope dealer he wanted to get it to the next stage in the distribution process without interference. For Jake, it meant Trey Bennett, his case agent.

Using the speed-dial function on his phone, he punched in the code for Trey.

“I’m out of there,” said Jake over the speaker.

“How’d it go?”

“It went. I’m heading over to the Santa Monica Freeway and will eventually get up to the Westside. Meet me in the parking lot across the street from this morning’s tryst, Cupcake,” said Jake, smacking his lips, making kissing sounds.

“You’re sick.”

“You’re cute.”

When Jake pulled off the 405 Freeway at Sunset Boulevard, he called Trey. “Everything look good?”

“Yeah, the parking lot’s clean.”

“I’ll be there in two. Is junior with you?”

“Yeah.”

“With drugs in the car, I don’t want to stop at some minimart. Have him run across the street and grab me a Dr Pepper at the liquor store.”

“Got it. He’ll be waiting with drink in hand when you get here.”

As soon as Jake pulled onto the side street leading to the Brentwood public parking lot he spotted Trey Bennett’s Ford Fusion. Jake checked his mirrors one last time before pulling into the lot. Trey and Brian Carter were waiting outside the car.

“At least you took off the ties,” said Jake as he exited his car, handing the paper bag to Trey, who was wearing clear latex gloves.

Brian handed Jake the soda and Jake fished out change from his pocket to repay the newest member of the team.

“Thanks. I was getting thirsty but always hate using a drive-thru or stopping at 7-Eleven. Need to get straight home to papa when you’re holding product.”

Trey was thrilled when he looked in the paper bag and saw the latest compensation in the undercover operation. “Two keys is a big score. Congratulations.”

Jake briefed both agents as to how it went down in Yeong’s office and then looked at Brian. “With Tommy’s prior drug conviction, it’s a double-up. He’s looking at a twenty-year minimum mandatory sentence just for making the introduction. Yeong’s looking at a dime.”

Trey handed the bag back to Jake, who grabbed an ink pen from inside his Range Rover and began initialing and dating both packages of meth and the paper bag.

As Brian was observing the ritual, Jake said, “Chain of custody… Allows me to tell the twelve upstanding citizens who decided not to avoid jury duty that these are the kilos of ice I just obtained from Yeong and Tommy.”

Brian nodded.

“Any idea who his butt boys were in the restaurant?” asked Trey.

Jake shook his head. “Not yet. He didn’t introduce any of them or call them by name. I’m not even sure they spoke English. I just know when Yeong raised his voice they jumped and got ready to pull on me.” Jake took a long draw of his Dr Pepper, then added, “I almost feel sorry for Tommy. He’s such a dupe. I can’t believe he took me to Yeong. Tommy’s looking at the big two-o and he never even touched the product.”

“Mandatory ten and twenty years,” said Trey with a broad grin. “I love those federal sentencing guidelines. Makes all the paperwork worthwhile.”

Jake feigned offense. “Paperwork? How about the possibility I could have caught bubonic plague just walking through the restaurant? That place is a C for crying out loud. Is that what you mean by ‘worthwhile’?” Then, failing to get a rise out of Trey, Jake paused, took another sip, and added, “By the way, Yeong wants an exclusive on my border-crossing contacts. It’s all on the microchip. You will note Yeong is willing to pay me a lot more for my services than the Bureau.”

Trey refused to bite at Jake’s provocative banter in the presence of a new agent. “That’s a huge step. How do you want to handle it?”

Jake shrugged. “I downplayed it and told him I’d have to think about it. If I were really a crook it makes sense. I’d want to limit my exposure. But Reid and this contract killing may cut everything short. We may not have much of a window in which to operate and I really want to move on to Park. When you get to the office, download the audio, weigh the stuff in this paper bag, do a field test on the contents, and let me know the results. Yeong claims it’s the highest-quality meth Asia produces, so I assume it will test positive. But let me know, especially the weight. I’ll call Tommy tonight and tell him how pleased I am with the product, and assuming the weight is good, I’ll say I want to meet with Yeong right away to discuss this new business relationship. It will at least get us one more recorded meeting and maybe give you a chance to identify his spear-carriers.”