Mob Princess - Tess DiRosa's Story
Copyright© 2025 by Argon
Chapter 12: Mop-Up
Her ears were ringing from the exploding airbags, and she could not see. Pulling her pocket knife, she cut away the deflating airbag and tentatively turned the steering wheel, finding it still working, and she managed to turn the car around.
“Jogger to Cowboy leader and Posse Leader: we had a collision with a speeding truck driving downhill. Be advised that the driver is likely armed and dangerous. I’m following slowly, and I still need that ambulance.”
“Posse Leader to Jogger: Ambulance is five minutes out. Your fleeing truck is now safely wrapped around a fir tree. Approaching now.”
Driving slowly, for the steering felt wobbly, Tess soon saw the crash site in the light of her one remaining headlight.
“Posse Leader, this is Jogger, arriving at crash site. What’s the status?”
“Driver is alive, conscious and breathing, but that’s all in the way of good news. Fire department is alerted to cut him from the wreck. How’s your patient?”
“In pain and losing consciousness. I’m driving past the crash site to meet the ambulance.”
When she rolled slowly past the crashed truck, she saw Sheriff Cramer signaling her to stop. Tess rolled down the side window.
“Can’t let you drive on with this wreck, Agent. Your front’s busted, and God knows what’s broken. Let’s play it safe and get Agent Schultz out.”
Two deputies helped the groaning Schultz from the passenger seat.
“Shit, shit, not my baby!” she kept wailing. Tess sat down by her side and held her hand.
“Hold out for one minute, Pam. I can already hear the ambulance. See? There’s the red lights. Hold on!”
Tess kept talking to her, encouraging her, and she was completely surprised when a female EMT gently dislodged her hand from Pam’s.
“We’ll take it from here, Miss. She your mom?”
“No, she’s my boss. She’s in her fifth month. Wait! I must secure her sidearm and badge!”
Quickly, Tess took the gun, spare clip and the cuffs from the holster and then secured her badge.
“I’ll follow you as quickly as possible,” she promised Schultz, but she raised her hand.
“You must stay on the scene. You’re the only representative of the agency now. Keep your head in the game!”
Already, Schultz was loaded into the ambulance and the driver slammed the doors shut, whilst the EMT sat by her side. A drip was already going, when the ambulance started downhill.
Tess took a deep breath. She had to keep a cool head now. Handing Schultz’s gun and badge to one of the deputies for safekeeping, she pulled out her phone and dialed Robert Ball’s number. It took eight rings for him to answer.
“‘lo?”
“Sir, this is PA Teresa DiRosa. Agent Schultz suffered from a medical emergency and is currently being transported to the Clearwater County Hospital. We also had a collision with the car of a fleeing suspect, resulting in heavy damages to both cars and severe injuries for the suspect. The main assault on the target is still ongoing to my knowledge.”
“Are you okay, Tess?”
“Yes, Sir. I was able to avoid a frontal collision.”
“So Pam is on the way to the hospital, and you’re on your own. Are you mobile?”
“No, Sir. The left front of the SUV is busted. The Sheriff is on the scene though. They can give me transport later.”
“Okay, find out how the assault went, and then make sure that we get live perps to interrogate. Remember: we must follow the trail of the fake twenties. I’ll be there in about four hours, but you must hold the fort until then. Can you do that?”
“Yes, Sir, I’ll do my best. Umh, Sir, I don’t really carry any weight here as a probie.”
“Then make up for that by being a pain in the ass. I know you can do it!”
“Yes, Sir, I’ll be the Mouse that Roared.”
“That’s the spirit. I’ll see you in a few!”
The call ended and Tess took a deep breath. Finding the Sheriff, she tugged at her arm.
“My boss wants to know how the assault went, Ma’am.”
“You can tell him it went like a charm, but the DEA had one wounded when this fellow emptied a magazine on him. He’ll make it. They busted three perps inside the house, with only a few bumps and bruises.”
“Thanks! Can somebody drive me up there? I really must be on the scene.”
“I can do better. I’ll loan you a cruiser if you promise to drive more carefully.”
The taunt finally gave Tess back her smile. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“No switching on the siren!”
“No, Ma’am.”
“Okay. Hank!”
“Yes, Beth?”
“Be a lamb and loan your cruiser to Agent DiRosa. She busted her car when she bumped the asshole off the road.”
“Pure accident, Ma’am!” Tess protested pro forma.
“Sure. Okay, off you go, and we want it back with a full tank!”
“You got it!” Tess grinned back.
Now for the hard part, she thought, putting the cruiser’s transmission into ‘drive’. With her headlights on high beam, Tess navigated the cruiser along the gravel road. She took her time, figuring that Harris needed her in this moment like a hole in the head.
The space in front of the of farmhouse was surprisingly devoid of action. Two SRT members were leaning casually against one of the war wagons, one of them smoking a cigarette. She waved to them through the open side window, parked the cruiser alongside the broken snowmobile, and climbed out.
Entering the farmhouse she encountered the acrid smell again, but the SRT had opened all the windows, and fresh air was quickly replacing the toxic fumes. Turning right into the presumed meth kitchen, she found Harris with two of his men. He looked up and smiled.
“Hey, how’s Pam?”
“Hopefully at the hospital already and okay,” Tess answered. “I heard that you had a wounded?”
“Glancing shot only; he’ll live. You bumped the asshole off the road?”
“We side-swiped; I stayed on the road, he didn’t. That means I won, right?” Tess asked with assumed nonchalance. She could not show weakness here.
“In my book, yes. They’ll have to cut him out?”
“I hear the fire department is on the way. He’s alive and breathing, and that’s okay, because we want to interrogate the mutt.”
“Yeah, us too. Our three perps are undamaged, so you’ll get your shot at them, too.”
“We appreciate that, Sir.”
“Hell, you guys did most of the work. I take it you can use a letter of recommendation at this stage of your training?”
“That wouldn’t hurt at all, Sir.”
“Deal then. I’ll write something up and let my SAC cosign it. By the way, there were three IR sensors arrayed along the drive way. Chief, I can understand. He’s probably a shaman or something, and he’s spent a lifetime in these mountains, but you are a damned greenhorn, nine months out of basic training.”
“I wish I could explain it with an amulet from the pope or the Virgin Mary pulling my ear, but I can’t. Let’s just call me weird and be done with it.”
“I can accept weird, Tess. A pity you picked the joggers.”
Tess watched as the three prisoners were escorted from the farmhouse and loaded into the back of the Hum-Vee, to be processed in at the Sheriff’s office, but then she went through the farmhouse, looking for more false twenties. She found used, smelly clothes everywhere, broken bongs, pizza boxes and Chinese takeout bowls, but it took her over two hours until she struck gold. Opening the water basin of the ancient wood cooking hearth in the kitchen, she found fifteen bundles of home brew Jacksons, 50 notes each, with a make-believe value of $15,000. She had to borrow evidence bags from the DEA guys to collect her loot. She was about to leave when she thought of opening other compartments of the oven. Under the ashes in the bottom of the coal chamber, she found two print plates, and her jubilant ‘Yesss!’ made the DEA agents come and look.
“I guess we can both announce success, Agent Harris.”
“Printing plates? That must be like the Holy Grail for you Joggers,” he teased Tess.
“It’s great. This still counts as Gorman’s success, Pam will also profit and Robert, too.”
“Not to forget a certain probie, right? Congrats, Tess! Now we’ll have to find out whether this bunch were counterfeiting meth cookers or meth-cooking counterfeiters.”
Three days later, the joint operation of Secret Service, DEA and Clearwater Sheriff’s Department came to a successful end. All officers and agents involved had a barbecue on the Jorgensens’ farm. Pam Schultz was in the hospital, but she still carried a living fetus, although she would not return to work until after the birth. Tess had visited her daily and kept her in the loop, and acting SAC Ball let her sign the final report. The US Attorney had held a press conference, announcing a devastating blow against drug dealers and counterfeiters, and naming the supervising agents. Tess got a citation from the DEA out of it, praising her contributions to the war on drugs and not too subtly offering her a future with the agency. Tess handed the citation to Ball who added it to her personnel file.
With her duty car a complete write-off, Tess returned to Spokane with Ball, and to a largely empty office. With Gorman and Schultz out, and Dominguez going through the retirement paperwork, there were not enough warm bodies left to handle their case load.
For lack of other agents, Tess was paired with Henry Petersen, who was almost 40 years old, and had joined the service after being a beat cop in Atlanta for ten years. Tess had not worked with him so far, but he was a quiet and unassuming presence in the office. Now the two of them worked on mopping up the remaining issues of the Clearwater operation. This meant interrogating the captured men from Clark Farm, who were in federal custody. The driver of the truck was still in the hospital, with multiple bone fractures and internal injuries, and could not be interviewed yet.
The three “chemists” were small fry, all flunked-out former college students with drug habits, and what they knew was scarce. According to them, the sales were done by the boss, the injured man, who delivered the supplies, collected the product at three-day intervals, and paid them. They claimed to have no knowledge of the stash of counterfeit bills or the print plates.
After three days, Tess and Petersen concluded the interviews. They also collected the evidence coming in from the various DEA and Secret Service crime labs and listed the reports neatly for the US Attorney’s use. This seemed to be Petersen’s forte, and he used the opportunity to drill Tess in the art of preparing the case for the prosecution. This took much longer than the interviews, with evidence trickling in for weeks, often necessitating the rearrangement of the presentation.
A big break came when the crime lab could pull a partial thumb print and a full index finger print from the obverse print plate and match it to the boss, who by then was declared fit for questioning. He had undergone six separate surgical procedures, with at least two more to come, and it was unclear if he would fully recover. This, and the fear of going into stir as a weak, possible still crippled man, made him willing to talk about turning witness. After some wiggling and posturing, he agreed to spill the beans, and for three days, the two agents took his statements.
According to his testimony, the meth lab and the counterfeiting were part of the portfolio of a small Seattle syndicate, and his job was to act as go-between for them, keeping the meth production going and delivering the drugs to Seattle. When the top man was arrested and arraigned for an unrelated crime, he gave the remainder of the counterfeit money and the print plates to the courier, to stash them away safely and far away from Seattle.
An SSA from the Seattle Field Office joined them and collected the evidence, since the focus was now on the bigger city, and they were given attaboys for their troubles. The courier was picked up by the US Marshals who would stash him away at some rehab clinic way east, for him to hold fresh for the planned Grand Jury hearing. The DEA would also get some more bones to chew, and everybody was as pleased as pudding.
A week later, Tess received the long-awaited paperwork making her a full-fledged special agent. Citations were also raining down on the Spokane agents, including Tess, and both Ball and Schultz were made Supervisory Special Agents, with Schultz moving elsewhere after her baby pause.
They also got two transfers to fill their depleted ranks and a new probie. The probie’s name was Shauna Jefferson, and she was a black woman from the Chicago South Side, with a Marine Corps MP background. Following office tradition, she was first paired with SSA Ball, still the acting SAC. SA Leticia Warren looked and sounded like a Southern Belle, but she was an all-around friendly and competent colleague.
SA Carlos Echeveria was Cuban by descent and upbringing and made Donny Pauling look sensitive, meaning, he immediately started to hit on Tess. He reminded her of her erstwhile boyfriend Ray Alvarez, and she made it clear to him that she wasn’t interested. He hit on Warren, too, but she simply showed him a truly humongous diamond on her left ring finger, together with an icy smile, and he got the message. When he finally got around to hit on Jefferson, SSA Ball had enough, and he was shipped back east for remedial diversity training and reassignment.
His replacement came a week later. Tess was in the office when she arrived, and she had to blink. It was Lisa Miles, of all people, grinning smugly as she gave Tess a resounding kiss on her cheek.
“Hey, Roomie! Surprised?”
Tees looked her up and down. Yes, it was Lisa, her sometime lover and good buddy.
“Hey, you! Whom did you piss off?”
“Nobody. I saw the opening here on the bulletin board and jumped at it. I mean, look at you: you already busted a counterfeiting and narco ring here, and I barely saw the outside of my fucking cubicle. I want some action! Personnel liked it, too. With me here, the field office is 40% female.”
“Well, that’s great!” Tess grinned. “You checked in with the boss already?”
“Will do, but I just had to see your gobsmacked face! Where do I find SAC McCann?”
“Whom? Oh, are we getting a new boss? Not here yet. You’ll have to make do with SSA Ball. He’s cool. He’s got the left corner office, and if I know Lucille, he’s waiting for you. Shoo!”
“See ya!” Lisa smiled, already moving in the indicated direction, with Tess shaking her head.
Their day of surprises was not over yet. Shortly after the lunch break, a grey-haired, slim man in an immaculate suit showed up and marched straight for Ball’s office. The latter came out after five minutes.
“Conference room! All of you! You too, Lucille! Lock the entrance!”
Seven agents, a probie and a secretary filled the conference room almost to capacity when the debonair gentleman joined them.
“Good afternoon, Agents, Ma’am! Let me make this short since you are all busy people. I am SAC Douglas McCann, the new commander of the Spokane Field Office and proud of it! You Agents did a great job these last months in spite of your manpower shortages. Fortunately, those shortages have been compensated, and I hear that the last addition arrived today, too. Missus Maynard will soon post my CV on the internal bulletin board, so we’ll be on even footing. You will find me a demanding boss, but that’s something you are probably accustomed to. I also like to know if there are problems in the workplace that need to be addressed. I saw in the reports that one particular problem was already addressed, and I assure you that Agent Ball’s decision meets with my full approval. There is no place in this office for machoism, sexism, racism or any other discriminative behavior, and I will continue the effort to make this a good and safe place for you to work.
“In the next days, I’ll meet each of you, to talk about your experience, your background and your aspirations. It is important for me and this office to realize your full potentials and to make you the best agents you can be.
“You will, for now, keep your assigned cases and partners, but we will shake things up in the future to further cohesion within the team.
“For now, I ask you to return to your work after the inevitable discussion of my rather pompous speech. Agent Peterson, Agent Miles will be joining you and Agent DiRosa for now, until she has settled in.”
“Yes, Sir!” Peterson answered calmly.
When Tess and Lisa sat with Peterson around his desk, he gave them a smile.
“He won’t be here for long.”
“McCann?”
“Yes. He’s on a career path, and this office is a spring board for him. The recent cases will still produce enough reports and memos in the next months for him to sign and look good, and then he’ll move up.”
“You mean, he’s a politician?” Tess asked.
“No, he’s the real deal, but he’s much too good looking to be stuck in the backwaters,” Petersen smiled. “He’s press conference material.”
Lisa giggled. “He’s certainly saying all the right things.”
“Yeah, but he’ll have problems finding an adequate hairdresser here in Spokane,” Tess added.
“Okay, Agent Miles, first things first. Have you found accommodations already?”
“I’m staying at the Big Sky Motel, but I’ll hit the classifieds.”
“I can ask Lydia, my landlady. There’s an unused room in the house, and she may be willing to let it, too,” Tess offered. “At least temporarily.”
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