Tied to a Castillo I 18+

forty four

The CI was 100% mentioned. All I gotta say is, think back on who was trusted and who couldn't get an ounce of it.

Informant, so and so...

DEA Jordan Sterling was eating her lunch alone in her office when she got a phone call. She reached out for her phone but held her sandwich in the other hand, chewing as she eyed the number flashed on the screen.

She released a sigh through the nose and rolled her eyes, vividly annoyed.

She debated if she should take the call or just eat her sandwich because dealing with a panicking human being while she was finally able to have an uninterrupted lunch break wasn't something she wanted.

However, she tapped the screen and put the phone in her ear.

"Got anything for me today?" she asks the caller, knowing this call wasn't a mistake as the informant only had her number stored in the burner phone she gave him.

"I think I've been made," the informant expressed frantically.

Sterling exhaled roughly, "almost every day you say this. Why not just let this fear go and acknowledge that we are veryclose to nailing the Castillo's?"

By Friday, Sterling was supposed to be given a round of applause on the sinking ship of the Castillo Crime Family. She had this speech in mind, thanking her informant from the bottom of her heart and Stacey Fey, as this wouldn't have happened without them. 

Fey didn't give up on her while everyone else wanted to call it quits or said it was a waste of time.

"Because I know I've been made!" the informant voiced with a whisper-yell, gritting through his teeth.

Sterling took a bite of her sandwich and asked, "What makes you think that?"

He closed his eyes, "I just know. I can't do this. We have to pull the plug."

Sterling says with a little food in her mouth, chewing fast to make her words appear clearer, "we worked way too hard to just throw this away. You're going to go to that meet Friday, and once we shut things down, we'll arrest you to make it seem like you're going down, and then we'll put you in WitSec."

"Richie is tryna send me out with a truck just a few hours before the meet, and I never do that. That's not my job," he informs, "he wants me to know that he knows, and I'm not sure why I'm even breathing since he does."

Sterling informs, "you're overthinking this. Maybe it's too many heads out on the field, and they just don't need you this time to drive. Do you really think if Richie Castillo knew you were giving me information that he'd let you live?"

"Sterling, please get me out of here," he damn near cries, "I am telling you, they know. All of them. I'm not doing this."

Sterling sets her food down and rests her fingers at the center of her forehead, "Yes, you are. Take the truck to whatever location they give you and keep me updated."

The man on the line grits through his teeth, "it's a fucking set up. I'm not doing it!"

She clenches her jaws and lifts her head. Resting her arm on the desk and leaning forward, she said, "you do know what this means, right? You didn't get the guy, so you don't get the protection. Deal is off."

The informant licked his dry lips and said, "I'm a dead man walking either way."

"Take the tuck," Sterling says, "and you'll be safe. He could very much be moving you up the ladder, and you're freaking out about it."

"If I get in that truck, it's either gonna blow up halfway there or where I'm heading is where I take my last breath," he said, "I'll be safe if I walk away. From you and this whole catastrophe."