Jonathon Stone Mystery Short Stories

Friday, March 3, 2023

Operation No Sanctuary

A Jonathon Stone Mystery Short Story BY James Moushon

Operation No Sanctuary

A Jonathon Stone Mystery Short Story

Author: James Moushon

A gang war erupts in East LA between neighborhood gangs and the notorious MS-13 gang from San Salvador and a Mexican cartel from Tijuana is right in the middle of the conflict. Drug trafficking, gang shootings and politics all play a role as Jonathon Stone battles the sanctuary city LA which seems to protect the innocent and the guilty.

Available at Amazon and on Kindle Unlimited https://bit.ly/3Y1NlgR

Excerpt from Operation No Sanctuary

Twenty-One. My favorite words unless the dealer is looking at her hole card. I was on a great run which doesn’t come too often. The dealer kept busting and I kept raising my bet and the Jack and Cokes kept appearing at my elbow. The Ocean Queen Casino was my sanctuary.

Being an at-large agent for the CIA had its perks. Of course, tomorrow I could be anywhere in the world. Actually, tomorrow was the day for our weekly phone conference so I was safe until 0900. My boss, Russ Evans, would be prompt.

I liked the freedom but I liked the action more. I am a part of the DOT division which is the domestic unit of the CIA. We handle terrorism matters that originate outside the country.

And you are asking me if that is legal? It’s not. And it’s not a well-kept secret either. Yet here I am in the Long Beach area living in the shadows.

I motioned to the cocktail waitress for one more. This would have to be my nightcap. Jill was back in a flash. “Here you go, Jon,” she said, taking a long look at the stash of chips in front of me. I put a five dollar chip on her tray as she brushed against me.

I had about two thousand in black and green chips so she had higher expectations. “Not tonight, Jill,” I said to myself. I was going to cut and run shortly.

The next morning came quickly. I made it to the back patio with my coffee just in time to catch the first ring of my cell phone. Wiley was controlling the calls, taking roll and passing along the weekly code word. Sometimes I got confused with this process but Wiley had my back. The regular agents used the code regularly. Me, not so much.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Russ said in an authoritarian voice. “Before I get too far into the briefing, I want to talk directly to Agent Stone.”

That comment got my immediate attention. I could hear him asking Wiley if I was there in the background.

Russ continued. “Last night we had two murders in East LA. I know that’s not very unusual but the LAPD and now the FBI are trying to identify the deceased. The victims had false ID’s on them and the documents were excellent forgeries. In fact, they were so good that the FBI got called in and they traced them back to one of our old ops. The ID’s were made by the Romero Cartel in Tijuana. They are a merciless group of thugs and they are right in the middle of a drug war with a gang in LA.”

He paused for a second. “Agent Stone, this is the group you were chasing several years ago in Mexico. The Feds have a meeting to setup a task force at the FBI office downtown LA at two this afternoon. I want you to get involved. We have to stay to the sidelines on this one. Oh, and Agent Jodi Shannon is in charge of the FBI portion.”

I could hear someone on the other end chuckling. That damn Wiley. He knew about Jodi and my history.

“I would love to snag Raul Romero,” I said.

I remember Romero, I thought to myself. In 2006, I was involved in a gun sting. We were selling guns through straw purchases, trying to trap Romero’s Cartel into using the guns for their illegal activities. Unfortunately, the op went sideways and the guns wound up back in the states. We concluded that Romero got tipped off someway about the sting and resold the weapons to gangs in Southern California. This deal in LA could give us another shot at Romero.

That afternoon I checked through security at the LA Federal Building and was directed to a conference room on the second floor. I slowly opened the door to find at least a dozen people already seated. I saw Jodi in the front with a man dressed in a LAPD uniform and another guy in a suit. Probably FBI.

It sounded like Jodi was taking roll. She saw me and smiled. I halfway raised my hand in acknowledgment and took a seat in the back of the room. Except for Jodi, I didn’t recognize anyone.

On the side wall was a map of LA with a big red ‘X’ and a bigger map of Southern California next to it. After studying the LA map a little, I noticed an area painted in blue and another area with a green ‘X’ that I recognized as the City of Whittier.

Also there were two rows of pictures next to the maps. The first row had only two pictures which I assumed where our two victims from the murder yesterday. The second row had four pictures. The last one caught my eye. It was Raul Romero, the cartel kingpin. I turned in my seat to face the front as one by one people introduced themselves. We had the whole alphabet here. We had people from the ATF, a guy from ICE, a DEA guy and, of course, the LAPD and the FBI. I sat there trying not to make eye contact with anyone. I was there for observation but that didn’t last long.

Jodi had the floor. “I want to thank everyone for attending on such a quick notice. The quicker we get on these murders the better chance we have to resolve this case.”

Then she turned and looked straight at me. “We have a new member of the task force I would like to introduce.”

I shook my head slowly no.

“Agent Jonathon Stone from the CIA will be joining us. We think his involvement with the Romero Cartel can be invaluable especially south of the border. Everything we know now points to the Romero Cartel from Tijuana.”

A man at the front table raised his hand.

“Yes, Agent Lopez,” Jodi said, acknowledging the man.

“Are we sure that we want the CIA involved in this? I know from the DEA’s point of view, we can handle the Mexicans. Besides we already have people in place there that can give us live intel. We are all setup to handle both sides of the border. Besides, the CIA can’t work domestically.”

Agent Lopez had a good point in a perfect world. With my division involved, that changes the game but Lopez didn’t know that. I wish Jodi had let me sit by myself in the back.

Jodi got a big frown on her face but didn’t say a word. I had to jump in on this and try to keep my cover.

“I need to say something about my role. I am here to just add information if it’s needed. I will not be a part of the active task force. I was involved several years ago with the Romero Cartel in a gun sting so I know the players in the cartel, that’s all.”

Now it was Lopez’s time to frown. He wasn’t going to give up.

“Mr. Stone, I think that the DEA can handle this. We don’t need someone coming in and blowing everything that we have going against the cartel.” “I understanding what you’re saying, Agent Lopez,” Jodi said. “We will be careful not to expose the DEA’s position on this. I would like to introduce LAPD officer, Jerry Martin. He will explain our working theory on what we’re faced with. Officer Martin.”

A tall officer with a large brown hat stood up from the table and took Jodi’s place at the podium. “Thanks Agent Shannon. I am in charge of the LAPD gang unit. We believe we are in the middle of a gang turf war. The Romero Cartel has become real aggressive in the last six months. There MO for years has been to supply drugs and guns to the small, individual gangs in Southern California. The gangs, in turn, distribute their drugs in their own neighborhoods.”

I surveyed the audience. Lopez was staring directly at me. Something was up with this guy. He must feel I’m going to intrude on his turf.

“We believe two things happened. The MS-13, the Salvadorian gang, has started taking over various areas in LA and eliminating the gang members. We understand from informants that they want the drug trade all to themselves,” The LAPD officer continued.

That sounds like a regular gang war to me.

“The other thing that happened was the establishing of the sanctuary areas in the state. That’s where Romero comes in. He is taking advantage of it by crossing people from Mexico with forged documents and getting them into safe zones. These guys are setting up businesses and using those as fronts to distribute drugs, guns and false documents. Also, because of the sanctuary status, we have a problem getting warrants for wire-taps to try to pin them down. As long as these guys stay squeaky-clean, they are home free.”

A Note from Jonathon

My name is Jonathon Stone. Like a lot of single, All-American men I enjoy gambling, drinking, and the ladies.

I am a writer for Real Sportsman Magazine.

Being a writer is a realistic, workable cover but, in reality, I am a Special Agent for the CIA. I am assigned to the West Coast-based – Far East Operation Center located in San Francisco.

At one time our offices were in downtown Long Beach, CA. On the main floor was a complete magazine group with secretaries and a writing staff that produced a monthly hunting magazine.

In the basement of that office building was a full-blown CIA operation with security set up and computer center.

Eventually, our cover was blown, and the staff was scattered to the wind. My boss, Russ Evans, changed my status to At-Large and kept me in the Long Beach area. I live in Belmont Shore, if you want to be more specific.

I am what my fellow agents call an Asset-On-Call. I may just show up anywhere in the world.

As a footnote, we also handle the Domestic Operation - Terrorism (DOT) division. It was formed to handle terrorist threats inside the U.S. after DHS took control of intelligence.

This group is not on the Company’s organization chart.

Jonathon Stone

Author: James Moushon

Author Genre: Mystery & Thrillers, Satire

Website: James Moushon - Mystery Writer / Author Advocate
Author's Blog: Indie Author’s Corner
HBS Author's Spotlight
Twitter: @jimhbs
E-Mail: james.moushon@gmail.com
Goodreads: Check Out Goodreads
Google+: Check Out Google+
Facebook: Check Out Facebook

Post with Profile + Interview: HBS Author's Spotlight

Amazon Author Profile

Author Description:

James Moushon is a Mystery writer and an Author Advocate.

Starting over 15 years ago, he helped lead the startup of the electronic forms industry in the creation, conversion and usage of electronic forms by supplying that industry with a continuing source of published literature, software products and training seminars.

In 2003, Moushon changed his focus to ebooks and their development.

James is currently wearing two Hats. He is a Mystery Writer and a Book Publishing Blogger. You can find his blogs at:

HBS Author’s Spotlight
The blog's purpose is to help authors get exposure in the book publishing industry. He has interviewed and showcased over 600 authors to date.

Indie Author's Corner
The Corner is a collection of Author advice and studies including Marketing, Social Media and other major topics created to help writers in today's ever changing world of book publishing.

He has spent the majority of his adult life developing computer systems and thinking about writing mysteries.

His website is: JAMES MOUSHON - MYSTERY WRITER / BOOK INDUSTRY BLOGGER

To contact him, e-mail: james.moushon@gmail.com

Operation Camp Navajo

A Jonathon Stone Mystery Short Story BY James Moushon

Operation Camp Navajo

A Jonathon Stone Mystery Short Story

Author: James Moushon

Camp Navajo Weapon Station near Flagstaff, Arizona is robbed and Jonathon Stone and fellow agent Dale Oak are dispatched to the area to insure that CIA weapons stored at the site are intact. Upon arrival he finds the FBI has taken charge and has quickly caught the thieves.

Case closed. After a drive through the area and listening to the details of the crime from the FBI, things just didn’t add up. A complete search of the facilities finds explosives are missing and Jonathon is tasked with finding them before they are used.

Available at Amazon and on Kindle Unlimited https://bit.ly/3SmUx6d

Excerpt from Operation Camp Navajo

A clap of thunder shook my house. I rolled over and with one eye checked the clock. It was almost seven. I slightly remembered the text message from the night before. My weekly briefing had been moved up from 0900 to 0700. Something was going on.

I stumbled to the kitchen and checked my patio through the back window. A heavy rain streamed off the roof into my backyard. It never rains like this in sunny Southern California.

I had a few minutes to fix some coffee before I would get a secure conference call from my boss, Russ Evans. Russ was the Director of the Far-East Regional office of the CIA based in San Francisco.

I’d stayed at the Ocean Queen Casino way too long last night. Of course, I thought I had two more hours of sleep coming. The way the cards were running I wanted to stay all night. It had been a while since I had a good night like that.

I called San Francisco and got transferred to the secured conference call. In a few moments, Russ was on the line. Our meeting usually had five or so agents on the call. Russ started the roll call. This morning we had way more than the usual agents connected. Finally, he got to me. “Stone?”

“Here.”

“Good, this meeting is directed at you.”

He continued taking the roll. I didn’t count but it sounded like he had everyone under his command on the line.

“Okay. The first order of business and the reason I have all of you on this morning.”

He paused for a second.

“There was a robbery at the Camp Navajo Armory facility yesterday near Flagstaff, Arizona. There were several Army reservists killed. Just a second.”

There was pause again. He was always well-organized.

“The Agency has a large cache of weapons and explosives stored here. The details are a little sketchy but HLS, DOD and the FBI are all involved. The FBI is running point. The lead agent is already in Flagstaff.”

Someone on the call interrupted Russ. “That figures. We’ll be lucky to get the Intel before the media.”

That sounded like Sid from New York but I couldn’t be sure. The accent usually gave him away.

Russ continued. “Langley is getting us involved because of some of the forensics coming out about the thieves. The FBI has already taken control and is processing the location for fingerprints and other forensics. We don’t have all the details yet but one of the partial prints got a hit on our terror database that was quite disturbing. The print was from Mohammad Raja, one of the Gitmo detainees released last year in a prisoner swap.”

Raja and several other detainees were exchanged for a couple of Marines captured by the Taliban in Afghanistan. The CIA had negotiated the deal which got a lot of heat by some in Congress.

There was silence for a minute. Finally, I asked, “Isn’t Raja supposed to be in Qatar under house arrest?”

A Note from Jonathon

My name is Jonathon Stone. Like a lot of single, All-American men I enjoy gambling, drinking, and the ladies.

I am a writer for Real Sportsman Magazine.

Being a writer is a realistic, workable cover but, in reality, I am a Special Agent for the CIA. I am assigned to the West Coast-based – Far East Operation Center located in San Francisco.

At one time our offices were in downtown Long Beach, CA. On the main floor was a complete magazine group with secretaries and a writing staff that produced a monthly hunting magazine.

In the basement of that office building was a full-blown CIA operation with security set up and computer center.

I am what my fellow agents call an Asset-On-Call. I may just show up anywhere in the world.

As a footnote, we also handle the Domestic Operation - Terrorism (DOT) division. It was formed to handle terrorist threats inside the U.S. after DHS took control of intelligence.

This group is not on the Company’s organization chart.

Jonathon Stone

Operation Asian Tiger

A Jonathon Stone Mystery Short Story BY James Moushon

Operation Asian Tiger

A Jonathon Stone Mystery Short Story

Author: James Moushon

Chuck Chun joins Jonathon Stone in a mundane assignment in Singapore. The dull surveillance op quickly turns from boring to the search for terrorists and the solution of an international tragedy. The Royal Malaysian Police are going in the wrong direction as Jonathon uses the vast resources of the CIA to zero in on the truth.

Available at Amazon and on Kindle Unlimited https://bit.ly/3xLfpKU

Excerpt from Operation Asian Tiger

A marine layer was rolling into the Long Beach sky. I sat on the outside deck of the Casino Queen staring at the Queen Mary across the harbor. I was taking a break from my blackjack routine I told myself but in reality it seemed like I couldn’t win a hand.

I was down a couple thousand so I was going to plan B. Jack and Coke was always plan B.

Being an on-call asset for the CIA meant I had a lot of downtime.

A cocktail waitress walked toward me with a refill, when my cell phone rang. I checked the caller ID. Bad timing. It was Russ Evans, my boss from San Francisco. I checked my watch. Six o’clock on a Sunday afternoon. We can’t have something going on now.

“Russ, what’s up?”

“I have an assignment for you. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

I stared at my ice-filled glass of Jack.

“Oh, no. Nothing I can’t take care of quickly.”

“Good. We need you to go to Singapore tomorrow. Chuck Chun will meet you there. He is leaving tonight. We have you booked out of LAX at six in the morning.”

Well, so much for trying to win my money back.

“What do we have going on there?”

“I need you and Chuck to babysit the field office there. Kim Asato, the station chief, just took on a major task and we want to have the office there covered. With your management experience and Chuck’s language skills, you’re the right two for the job. Besides Jon, you need to take a break from the Casino.”

I took a quick look around. Could he hear the slots in the background?

“What kind of deal are we getting into?”

“We are probably talking two weeks. She has a couple of active tasks that need monitoring. She has her hands full with the plane that disappeared over there. Anyway I don’t foresee any heavy lifting on your part. Kim doesn’t want the other tasks to get away from her. She’ll brief you when you get there. You were just there last year, right?”

“Yes. Kim picked me up at the airport.”

I don’t know if you could say I was actually there. I touched down. Took care of business and was on the red eye back to the states that same day. It was one of those in-and-out ops.

“Debbie will email your itinerary. Jon, look at this like two weeks off. I’ll keep in touch.”

Six in the morning at LAX on a Monday with a seventeen hour flight ahead of me. That doesn’t sound like time off but they do serve beverages on the flight and it was first class.

I took care of the Jack and Coke and headed home. My money would still be there when I got back.

A Note from Jonathon

My name is Jonathon Stone. Like a lot of single, All-American men I enjoy gambling, drinking, and the ladies.

I am a writer for Real Sportsman Magazine.

Being a writer is a realistic, workable cover but, in reality, I am a Special Agent for the CIA. I am assigned to the West Coast-based – Far East Operation Center located in San Francisco.

At one time our offices were in downtown Long Beach, CA. On the main floor was a complete magazine group with secretaries and a writing staff that produced a monthly hunting magazine.

In the basement of that office building was a full-blown CIA operation with security set up and computer center.

I am what my fellow agents call an Asset-On-Call. I may just show up anywhere in the world.

As a footnote, we also handle the Domestic Operation - Terrorism (DOT) division. It was formed to handle terrorist threats inside the U.S. after DHS took control of intelligence.

This group is not on the Company’s organization chart.

Jonathon Stone

Operation Sundowner

A Jonathon Stone Mystery Short Story BY James Moushon

Operation Sundowner

A Jonathon Stone Mystery Short Story

Author: James Moushon

A bomb explodes at a country club in Southern California and Jonathon Stone is right in the middle of things. Jonathon and fellow CIA agent Chuck Chun are assigned to protect Russ Evans, their boss from San Francisco, at a retirement party and things go terribly wrong. Several guests are killed and Russ is hurt. As the two CIA agents try to find the perpetrators, they end up with an op filled with out of the way places and superstition.

Available at Amazon and on Kindle Unlimited https://bit.ly/3khKMK5

Excerpt from Operation Sundowner

It was a pleasant winter evening in Southern California. We’ve had a marine layer covering the area for the last couple of days. I found myself standing outside of the new Pacific Coast Country Club in Pacific Palisades with fellow Agent, Chuck Chun from San Francisco. Our boss, Russ Evans, was here to attend a retirement dinner for the Assistant Director of the FBI. Chuck and I stood there watching the dignitaries arriving in their limos and as usual the press was there capturing everything on camera.

“Jon, how did we get stuck with this security detail? Look at all the Agents in the area. There are more Feds carrying weapons than our soldiers do,” Chuck said.

I laughed. Russ was already inside. Chuck did have a point. It seemed like every other person had an earpiece.

“We should stick around here and play some golf tomorrow,” I suggested.

“I would rather go to that Casino you go to all the time,” Chuck returned.

“You mean the Ocean Queen?”

“Down in Long Beach, right.”

“Correct. Really that’s not a bad idea, Chuck.”

“Jon, have you seen that FBI chick you have been fooling around with.”

“You mean Jodi Shannon. Now that you mention that, I haven’t. She must be inside. It is her guy and her turf.”

“That’s right. She is the head of the LA FBI office.”

“Yes. She got promoted about six months ago.”

I walked away from Chuck toward the main entrance. This was really an upscale place. The driveway was a circular affair with bright colored flowers and shrubs in the middle.

There was a commotion across the street. I tapped my earphone. “What’s up across the street? It sounds like the natives are a little restless.”

I waited a second.

“Jon, it is a pro-gun group having a loud discussion with some FBI agents.”

“I don’t understand. This isn’t a political affair,” I said.

“It is all about the agents carrying guns and the protesters having restrictions.”

“Do I need to keep an eye on that?”

“Actually there are some FBI agents on the way to reinforce that side of the street. This place is turning into a nightmare to secure. I guess one of the top FBI guys is a member here so he got a deal.”

I turned and looked at Chuck across the entrance way. He was standing steadfast, not missing a thing. I waited for a departing limo to pass by and started walking along a path through the garden area.

The ground started to rumble and then a large explosion blew the windows out of the left side of the building. I dove behind a tree and at the same time drew my weapon. Ahead I could see people running out the main door and smoke billowing from the windows on the west side of the main structure. I heard a muffled sound beside me. Chuck dove to my side on the ground. I could hear a man from the security command center shouting in my earpiece.

“Secure the perimeter. Secure the perimeter.”

“I’ll go get Russ. Chuck, try to keep these people from leaving. Block off the entrance. No cars in or out,” I instructed.

“Got it.”

I started running toward the entrance of the Country Club with my badge held high in one hand and my Beretta in the other. It seemed like all the agents reacted the same. They were already corralling the people as they left the structure. The explosion had been on the left side of the building and as I remembered from my walk-through, the ballroom where I saw Russ last was on the right. I could hear sirens in the distance as I entered the main foyer. People were running in all directions. The wall on the left side of the room had been completely destroyed. There was rubble all over the marble floor. I turned to my right and headed toward the ballroom.

As I entered, I could see several people still hiding under tables but the inside of the room seemed intact. I scanned the area. I could see Russ standing in the front, talking on his cellphone. In fact, that was what most of the people were doing.

As I approached him, I could feel broken glass on the floor, probably from the concussion of the blast.

A Note from Jonathon

My name is Jonathon Stone. Like a lot of single, All-American men I enjoy gambling, drinking, and the ladies.

I am a writer for Real Sportsman Magazine.

Being a writer is a realistic, workable cover but, in reality, I am a Special Agent for the CIA. I am assigned to the West Coast-based – Far East Operation Center located in San Francisco.

At one time our offices were in downtown Long Beach, CA. On the main floor was a complete magazine group with secretaries and a writing staff that produced a monthly hunting magazine.

In the basement of that office building was a full-blown CIA operation with security set up and computer center.

I am what my fellow agents call an Asset-On-Call. I may just show up anywhere in the world.

As a footnote, we also handle the Domestic Operation - Terrorism (DOT) division. It was formed to handle terrorist threats inside the U.S. after DHS took control of intelligence.

This group is not on the Company’s organization chart.

Jonathon Stone