Amila walked into Hicks office explaining all what she had found out about what the DEA did and now innocents were getting hurt because of it. Hondo paced back and forth, Hicks was on his computer staring at the screen angrily and Amila had her back against the wall, cracking her knuckles. The sound of the door opening caught their attention and in walks Boyle with a smile on his face,
"I expected you earlier, Boyle", Hicks says walking around to stand in front of his desk. Boyle shrugged,
"Ah, well, I had to debrief my bosses. Quite the hall this morning", he says enthusiastically.
Hicks made a face,
"Oh, I'll say. We confiscated 53 firearms. AK-47s, AR-15s, six sawed-off shotguns, two submachine guns, and a machete to boot", he listed to Boyle who eyes Hondo and Amila then his eyes went back to Hicks,
"And not to mention a dozen or so drug dealers we got off the streets", he included.
Hondo stepped up,
"You told us this was a crew of common hustlers. With an arsenal like that, my officers couldn't been walking into a death trap", he stated glaring, "if you knew this gang was cartel- affiliates, why was SWAT kept in the dark?", he snapped.
Boyle raised his arms,
"Because we didn't know anything. We had a suspicion", he said carelessly. Amila scoffed from beside Hicks,
"Suspicion my ass", she spoke up, "from what I heard, the DEA knew quite a bit. Which you knew enough to stop a Nueve-operated truck on the I-5, carrying a cash load of $3 million dollars", she said crossing her arms as Boyles expression changed to anger and it was directed at her.
Boyle inhaled,
"Yeah, we didn't think anyone knew that we had the truck and driver in custody. That's why we couldn't keep SWAT in the loop, but it seems like your gal hear knows a lot about it", he said as Amila got in his face dangerously,
"It ain't our fault you couldn't keep YOUR boys from keeping their mouths shut", she snapped as Hicks got in between them to stop Amila from doing anything crazy.
"I was following orders that came down from on-high", Boyle said.
Hicks chuckled,
"Got to love the DOJ. Always so respectful of their superiors- -", he retorted just as they started arguing at each other but Hondo stepped in,
"There's more you ain't sayin'. The reason the DEA chose to put the squeeze on Los Nueves and take their money...you were hoping to force Ulan Zamora to LA". He hit the jackpot. That's exactly what they were hoping to do.
Amila smirked at Boyles expression,
"Knew it", she sassed a he frowned,
"Where'd these two go to school?" He sighed.
Amila stepped in front of Hondo, eyes burning holes directly into Boyles,
"The kind where your taught if you force a violent person to act, innocent men, women and children will get caught in the crossfire", she said eyeing him up and down, "and clearly you don't know a thing or two about it", she said, scoffing in his face before leaving Hicks's office.
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Amila walked into the interrogation room with 2 chip bags and 2 sodas, they were gonna keep Marcos for a while and she had no idea if the Feds would consider making a deal. She placed the chips and sodas on the table, walking up to Marcos who had his head down in his arms, she touched his shoulder, causing him to jump back,
"Whoa, hey, babe, it's me", she was surprised by his sudden actions. He exhaled rubbing his eyes, shaking his head, he cleared his throat,
"Sorry Hermosa", he apologized taking a seat with a sigh.
Amila caressed his cheek,
"What did you dream about?", she asked seeing his eyes gloss over and that shocked her, "Marcos, hey", she pulled his head into her chest , his shoulders suddenly shook and she could hear soft cries and she couldn't help but comfort him,
"It's okay", she whispered, rubbing his back.
Marcos pulled back quickly wiping his eyes,
"Anything on Shorty or Muriel?", he asked trying to hide his emotions and change the subject but she wasn't having it,
"Tell me what you dreamt about?", she repeated as he looked into her eyes,
"Please Hermosa, don't make me say it", he said looking down at his hands.
Amila grabbed his hands into hers squeezing them tightly,
"Don't keep it from me. Talk to me".
Marcos had the dream on repeat in his mind and the images he couldn't get out of his head,
"You...you died because of me, Amila and all of this", he pointed around him, "do you know it'll kill me if something happens to you and it'd be my fault because then everyone's gonna blame me that I didn't tell you the truth from the start and....", he wiped his tears angrily.
Amila frowned caressing his cheek,
"Ain't nothing happening to me, Marcos Guzman. Everything will be okay and so will Shorty and Muriel, I promise", she softly says as he leaned into her touch. The door opened, they watched Luca and Street walk in with sour expressions,
"We need to talk to Shorty. The Feds won't cut a deal unless we can get something on Ulan Zamora!"
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Amila, Marcos along with Luca and Street waited inside the prison visiting room as the guard brought Shorty out to them. Amila ran up to him hugging him tight as he hid his face in her neck,
"I'm scared", he whispered so that only she could hear.
Amila squeezed him rubbing his back,
"Don't worry. We're gonna figure this out, I promise", she softly said kissing his cheek. She motioned for him to sit as she grabbed a chair and sat beside him.
"Listen to me Shorty", Street spoke up, "the Feds say unless you can deliver Ulan Zamora to them on a silver platter, there's no deal", he said.
Marcos shook his head,
"Ain't no way, man", he looked up at Luca, "you said you'd help us if I helped you".
Luca cut-in,
"We said we'd try", he stated.
Shorty gazes over at Amila taking her hand, he looked at Marcos,
"I know how we could get to Ulan", he softly said.
Marcos sat forward confused,
"Wait, what the hell are you talking about?", he asked Shorty who looked at him, he gulped,
"If I tell you this, I won't be safe", he whispered.
Marcos looked at Shorty with worry,
"You won't be safe in here, either", he retorted, staring Shorty in the eyes who smiled sadly, he leaned back with a sigh,
"If Shorty talks, can you keep him out of general populations?", he asked Luca who nodded.
"Yeah, we'll make arrangements to get him his own cell as soon as we walk outta here", Luca promised, "you'll be safe Shorty".
Shorty's eyes met Amila's who shook her head leaning forward,
"I don't like this, Short stack", she said but he rubbed her hand,
"Find the number to J's Used Car Lot. When I turned down that vato from the cartel two months ago, he said if we changed our minds, to call the same number as J's, except the last digit to his number was a six", he explained to Marcos who listened intently but he sighed,
"Even if we get in touch with this guy, what are we gonna say?", Marcos asked looking to Luca and Street.
Luca looks to Shorty,
"We only have one carrot to dangle in front of Ulan that I can think of. He's about to become a father, and he doesn't know it", he pointed out.
Shorty and Amila looked to Marcos as he put his head down,
"Muriel told you?", he sighed upset.
"She told Deacon", Street replied, "now we take it to the Feds, we see if there's a deal to be made".
Shorty leaned forward,
"Get me out of here, Marcos", he said," whatever you got to do, bro. Just get me out", his eyes held fear in them.
Marcos stared at his brother, he nods, determined to save his family.
The guard came back to take Shorty inside but he turned,
"Amila, wait", he called out walking up to her, he pulled her in for a hug,
"Please, if anything happens to me take care of Marcos", he whispered pulling back as Amila squeezed his arms,
"Shorty...", she was cut off by him squeezing her arms softly,
"Promise me", he demanded softly.
Amila's eyes welled with tears,
"I promise", she softly said. Shorty moved closer, placing a hand on her stomach with a smile, the others couldn't see what he was doing,
"Tell him, he'll be so happy", he said hugging her one last time before the guard escorted him back. Amila was shocked that he knew, she never left any evidence out. She walked over to Marcos, wrapping an arm around him as they head out.
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