Damage Control by Timothy Gilbert - HTML preview

Peter Hansen

I started planning the federal protection idea the day after Darryl was killed back in the

middle of November. Between the two taped phone conversations with Julio and two traceable

money laundering efforts, the feds thought that we had enough to put Julio away on U.S. soil.

Martin had me do a total of six money laundering wire transactions while under the

cartel's control - the last two were phoned in by Martin. I had a complete record of the account

numbers, each wire transaction, and, most importantly, the point of origin for the money. With

the feds documenting these transactions, they found proof of the cartel's laundering efforts. My

testimony was to focus on how Julio and Martin took over my firm plus information on the

Linder murders and the Nick Johnson shakedown.

Upon discovery in the third week of November that Martin's cell phone had been

disconnected, I freaked. Two days later, my first meeting with the feds took place. Jorge hadn't

moved into the PLH office yet but it was only a matter of time. Somebody else was laundering

money for the cartel before Julio came to me, and I never had the nerve to ask Martin what

happened to them. It couldn't have been pretty, though. I knew way too much about Julio's

money, so my family didn't have a chance.

In early December, I decided to tell Claire everything. She didn't get too upset until I told

her about the witness protection program. We were sitting in our family room - the kids were at

separate sleepovers. There was no way I was going to drop the bomb on her at a restaurant and

risk a mighty scene in public. Claire was ordinarily a very easy going person but this was no

ordinary problem. And it was too much to ask anyone to take in while sitting in a quiet, public

setting like a restaurant. That said, by now, I was convinced that our home was bugged, so we

spent most of the night whispering in each other's ears.

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I broke up the information and made sure to tell my wife each piece slowly so as not to

lose her. I made sure to highlight Detective Murphy's suspicious visit to my office less than two

weeks ago. Our world was crashing mightily down on us and we had to act aggressively to

survive. In my mind, I pictured Claire getting so freaked out about Julio, that the idea of federal

protection would practically come from her. It didn't quite work out that way.

“The feds can just arrest Julio when he meets with you in January,” Claire said. “Then

you won't have to deal with him again and none of your clients will ever know the difference.”

Julio wanted to have lunch at Todd's steakhouse on January 16th and firmly requested

my family's attendance.

"The Viola cartel is more than Julio, so they will come after us right away,” I told my

wife. “Believe that, honey. These are the same people who killed Darryl over the very weak

potential of him stirring up trouble for me, and I can only imagine what they have done with poor

Martin.”

Claire ran her fingers through her hair before bursting into tears. “We have attachments

here that we cannot walk away from…this will destroy us…the kids!”

I pulled Claire's fingers from her hair and held them out in front of her. “That may be so,

but I'd so much prefer that we manage the destruction than the Viola drug cartel.”

For the remainder of the night, I kept pounding away at the idea that testifying against

Julio and his cartel was near suicide. Our only hope was to accept witness protection. There was

no rosy exit from this problem - either I or Julio was going to prison for a long time - but we'd all be dead within 24 hours of my testimony in the courtroom if we didn't let the feds protect us.

Detective Murphy's visit with me offered a clear affirmation of my decision to open up to

the feds. Jonathan and his accusations weren't going away, plus I knew that it wouldn't take too

long for Julio to learn of this accelerating problem. A big part of me expected Jonathan to be

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taken out already, despite the convincing heat that would rain down on PHL from all authorities

if, suddenly, a third person tied to my firm died tragically.

The feds spent weeks planning the logistics surrounding the arrest of Julio. Even though I

had met Julio in the past, it was well over a year ago and it was a struggle to give the feds a solid enough description of his physical features. They were certain that the lunch would be moved to

an unknown location because Julio had to know that he was a wanted man. He would not let the

whole world know where he was dining. The big problem with this was his wish to meet Claire

and the kids. The feds thought about replacing Claire with a female agent in case we were driven

to a new lunch location, but I told them that Julio must have gotten a picture of my whole family

from the Cartel's watching my house for several months.

What we all did know was that somebody from the cartel was going to meet us at Todd's,

though whether Julio would be in the car that person arrived in was anybody's guess. So, the feds

couldn't just take the vehicle that pulled up to the restaurant.

In the end, it was decided that every member of my family would be outfitted with a tiny

GPS locator in the likely event that the lunch location was moved from Todd's. Even so, I

insisted that Claire and the kids wait inside the restaurant – why involve them if I didn't need to –

because, let's say I met the cartel car outside of Todd's and I got told to get in the car. If my

whole family was together, inside or outside of the restaurant, we all got into that car.

At 11:40 this morning, I waited outside of the restaurant, fully expecting a black town car

to pull up and whisk me away to a new location. I planned on telling Julio that my family was in

the restaurant and I had no idea we were not eating at Todd's. At least ten fed vehicles were in the area, waiting to move to wherever the GPS took them.

“Peter, why are you standing out here?” the voice asked me from behind.

I turned to find Julio holding open the door to the restaurant.

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“Julio, what a surprise,” I said, knowing that the feds were listening to every word. “Have

you met my family?”

He lowered his eyebrow. “Of course, how else would I know you were waiting for…”

The bullets whisked by my left ear and struck Julio right there in the doorway to Todd's.

I hit the ground while, at the same time, spinning around to the street to see who was shooting. A

red sports car sped away from the scene, but not before me spotting the shooter in the front

passenger seat. It was Martin.

Julio's security guards rushed out to the scene, firing shots at the sports car far down the

street. Moments later, an army of feds screamed in. After a short gun battle with Julio's security

team, the feds were able to secure the area and send proper medical attention to Julio.

He was lucky. Struck three times, twice in the right shoulder and once in the right ear,

Julio was going to live but the feds had him in custody.

Claire and the kids were crying when I walked back into Todd's. The team of witness

protection personnel surrounding them were making it perfectly clear that the Hansen family

would soon be no longer. We had talked about it endlessly, drafted every kind of scenario for

how all of this was going to shake out. Yet the moment was here and no preparation could check

the flood of emotions. We all leaned in for a family hug, at which point I began to cry. The past

eighteen months were filled with countless „if only's' – if only I hadn't gone on that damn party

boat while in Miami, if only I hadn't bet Julio's money on that heart drug, if only Nick Johnson

had kept clear of the Zyptorin study, if only Darryl hadn't talked with Brad Dellan, if only Brad

didn't have new money to send my way – but it was what it was. My family desperately needed

me to stay focused on the future, no matter crappy things looked.

At least we had a future.