by Rachel Renee
When no one’s looking, I drop one of the cell phones I seized into an engine container. Each is sectioned off for the two different trucks being used for exporting the product. If the trucks get separated, there will at least be a way to track the shipment. Dom has arrived on the scene, direct from Texas. He’ll be riding along in the second truck. Thiago and I will be in the leading vehicle.
We’re set to leave close to midnight to arrive at the border during shift change. I don’t know why they go through customs when every other time they travel on backroads and makeshift entrances into the United States. Papa Noel enlightens me.
“I want the money these exports will bring into this company. If we transport them illegally, there’s no evidence that anything has left the country. I’m a businessman and at the end of the day, the government owes me a stipend for the product we’ve created and sold to the U.S. It’s only fair.”
I want to laugh but I contain myself. He’s got an interesting outlook, but I guess you’d have to when you believe the way he does. He’s providing a product, whether one decides it’s good or not, he wants to be compensated. Only, the government believes it’s getting engines, when in actuality, it’s hollowed-out metal filled with the drugs they’ve purchased.
What do these car manufacturers do when they get the empty shell? Do they report it? Do they use the casing and fill it with actual engine material? I’m optimistic I won’t have to get that far into the process. I am curious, though.
Food is brought in and the shock of the comradery still puzzles me. This is just another job for these men. Another source of income to help sustain their livelihoods, their families. I wonder how many of them ever stop to think about what their actions are doing to other people. I’m contemplating it myself at the moment.
25
THE ROAD IS FAIRLY empty at this time of the night. Only a few cars traverse the highway among us. The driver is a man I’ve never seen. He showed up at the factory just before we were set to embark. I called shotgun and shoved Thiago in the middle between us. It is quite cramped having three big men in the truck, but it’s better than being shoved in the back, bouncing around like the cargo we’re delivering.
Throughout Mexico, I keep an eye on the side mirror, constantly surveying any vehicles following us. Lieutenant has surely received my messages by now. He should have the information to be able to track the cell phones, one on me and the other in the second truck. There’s no telling where backup may intercept us. I want to be ready, whenever it may be.
As we close in on the border, my thoughts are willing someone to be there to stop this parade before it gets further. Chances are, they’ll most likely wait until we’ve reached Jose’s, but I want it to be over.
The probability is that there will be multiple teams in place to capture most of the players at the same time. To keep from getting wind to the others of the raids. That’s what I’d do if I were in charge. All I can do is wait now. I’ve done what I came here to do. Found the leaders, located their hide-outs, played my role, and did it so well I’ve been asked to join the cartel.
“What’s so funny?” Thiago nudges my shoulder with his own.
I glare at him. Wouldn’t you like to know. “Just thinking about something. You know, before I knew you or your real name, I called you Mustache.”
He reaches up and fingers the hair above his lip, looks in the mirror to make sure it’s just so, then back at me. His eye twitches. “Why’s that funny?”
“I don’t know. Just is.” Not why I chuckled, but it’ll do.
“I don’t think it’s funny. Real men have facial hair. Although, you’ve got facial hair and I’m not sure I’d consider you a real man.”
“You’re not going to get a rise out of me with those types of comments.”
“What will get a rise out of you? The mention of the wife you’ve tried to keep secret?”
I swallow, hoping I can contain the agitation that’s rising. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. I’m not married.”
“Lie all you want. Dom filled Noel in on your little hidden life. A wife, a kid on the way…that’s why you want the cartel lifestyle. The sound of that money coming in to take care of your family is very appealing.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” What is Dom doing? Why is he making up shit about me?
“I knew that would get a rise out of you. Dom said the wife was off-limits, but Papa Noel and I decided to send someone to look after her until we know whether or not you’re going to continue to play nice.”
Is this what Cooper was hinting at? He knew Eliza had a tail? The thought that had disappeared once I knew Thompson was involved glides back in full force. Did Dom tell Thiago and Noel to get in their good graces? Or to make me follow through with his and Thompson’s plan? I feel my face redden and I have to tell myself to unhinge my jaw so the man next to me doesn’t realize he’s hit his mark.
Playing it cool, I tell Thiago, “You’re barking up the wrong tree. I was married once. Things didn’t work out, and we’ve since divorced. It’s been years.”
“You’re telling me you don’t have a wife back in Georgia? You’re divorced?”
“That’s what I said.” We make eye contact. “Dom has his story wrong.”
“Clearly.” He looks away, unable to keep the exchange. “We’ve got our bases covered, just in case.”
It’s been a while since I’ve prayed, but I’m silently saying one this instant, for Eliza. I don’t believe this is what Cooper texted about when he sent that message. He would’ve told me Eliza had a tail. He would’ve made a big deal about that. Wouldn’t he? Or, possibly, this is something completely different, and Coop and Eliza have no idea. That thought doesn’t settle me. In fact, it fills me with a little more trepidation. Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I add Dom to my prayer. I may kill the man yet. I don’t know why he’s messing about like this, but he’s on my shit list at the moment. If the opportunity arises, he’ll be punished for his deception. I don’t often look to seek revenge, but if you mess with the ones I love—that’s a whole different story.
The only noises are truck sounds, tires on pavement, engine whirs, and squeaking brakes on our approach to customs and the border. I swear I can hear a heartbeat quicken as the driver’s side window is rolled down. Whether it’s mine or Thiago’s, I can’t be certain. The driver hands the man our paperwork. He looks it over before handing it back and motioning for us to move over to the weigh station.
“That’s our truck, too.” The driver alerts the guard by pointing at the semi that pulled in behind us.
“He have his own paperwork?”
“He does.”
The exchange is quick and we’re on our way to the moment of truth, so to speak. The tires roll over the metal plate in the ground. The brakes squeal and quake at the driver’s insistence. “Everyone out,” he orders.
There’s no sign of help should this go awry. And, it’s safe to say it is the thumping of my life source I can hear over everything else. It’s pounding in my ears by the time the semi is opened up, and the officer climbs in the bed of the truck to explore the contents.
Another officer hands a crowbar to the first, who in turn pries open the box closest to him. I think all of us are holding our breaths. No one moves or makes a sound until the man drops the lid and secures it back in place. We think he’s finished but instead, he moves further into the truck, checking any open space, lifting more lids. It might have been the longest five minutes of my life.
“Everything checks out,” he calls from inside. “You are free to proceed.”
I keep my triumph in check as we re-enter the truck and exit the customs area. We don’t bother to wait around for our counterparts. If they are cited, we want to be out of the area.
By the time we’re pulling up to the front gate at Jose Sanchez’s, the three of us are exhausted. No one dozed off, despite the hour or the boring conversation. We lost contact with the second truck aft
er crossing the border. Our fear is that they were detained. It dwindled as we drove on because no one came after us despite our affiliation with the other vehicle.
The camp is quiet. All three of us are given a room. I’m locked securely in mine and I start to worry no one is coming to take down this cartel. I need to get home, my heart rate increasing every time I think about Eliza. What is she dealing with? I’ll need an escape plan should the agency decide now is not the time to act. Life or death. Those are the options Jose and Noel gave me. One of them is bound to follow through with the death threat should I give any indication of leaving the cartel life.
I send a text to Eliza, knowing I shouldn’t, but if something is to happen to me, I need to tell her one last time how much I love her. Not to mention, against my better judgment, I alert her to the fact that she should take extra precautions when out and about. She will know what that means. Cooper gets the same message. Not the love part, but the make-sure-Eliza-is-safe comment. After also sending another message to Lieu, practically begging him at the end of it to check in on Eliza, informing him that she’s probably being followed, threatened by the cartel, or even our own men, I unlatch the vent in the wall and store the phone. I also hide two of my weapons, keeping one strapped to the interior of my leg, just in case. Now all there is to do at the moment, is wait, yet again.
The sun is shining brightly through the barred window when I’m awakened by the sound of the lock being unfastened on my door. Selena rushes through it, practically slamming the door behind her.
“I think we’re in trouble. The second truck still hasn’t arrived. Word is, they were attacked immediately through the border.”
“What? By who?”
“Maybe the same gang that tried to stop you on your way to Noel’s.”
Boy, news travels fast.
“The driver was on the phone with Jose when unmarked police cars sidled up to the semi on the highway. Four cars. Jose told him to pull over. Try to see what they wanted before acting in haste.”
“If there were four cars, I doubt the exchange was going to be a positive one.”
“That’s what I thought. He told him to do it anyway.”
A fleeting thought flashes through my mind. Could it be true?
“There were gunshots. We all heard them over the line. Jose sent men to check out the damage, but we haven’t heard from them yet. We don’t know if anyone is alive. They could be captured, but we figured we would’ve heard something from someone if that were the case.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure a threat or a ransom call.”
“Thompson went out with the men. We thought we were safe here. We got word that a siege was going to happen. Now, we aren’t sure.”
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of my chief back at the home office and it’s been radio silence. He was reportedly traveling. Just assumed it was here. What makes you unsure of the siege?”
“Thompson leaving. Shouldn’t he be here for that?”
“Maybe he needs to keep his cover a little longer. I had a thought a moment ago. Do you think it’s possible Jose Sanchez is trying to break away from Noel?” It’s occurred to me many times, but now it seems evident that maybe the break will be official.
Her eyes widen. “Oh, my God, why didn’t I see it before? Yes! It could be!”
“Shhhh,” I have to tell her. She’s very enthusiastic about this possibility. “Does anyone know you’re in here?”
“No.” She grimaces. “I tried to be discreet.”
“Let’s keep it that way. Now, what are we going to do? Just supposing our backup may not be arriving yet.”
“I have an idea.”
The two of us hash out a plan. One we both think will keep us secure while anticipating the ending of this case. If there are rival cartels to deal with, things may be a bit more complicated.
A knock at the door startles us both. Selena cannot be seen alone with me. Especially when I’m being detained for the time being. She slinks under the bed and I mess up my sheets so they’re hanging over the edge, concealing her even more.
Jose appears alarmed to see me sitting so astutely atop my bed. “Didn’t realize you were awake.”
“Just waiting for someone to tell me what the plan is.”
“We’re waiting for contact with our second truck.”
I feign shock. “What do you mean.? They haven’t arrived yet?”
Jose tells me exactly what Selena did. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Why would I? How would I? I’ve no way to talk to anyone outside of here, and I haven’t since I was shot and beaten nearly a week ago.”
“I don’t know, just curious how this could have happened. How they knew we were transporting on that particular night.”
“Is there a possibility one of your men is working against you?”
“That is always a possibility in this business. When I find out who it is, you better believe there will be hell to pay.”
Jose walks out of the room without another word, locking the door behind him.
“Maybe Noel is trying to break away from Jose,” I hear from under the bed.
“I was just thinking the same thing. Jose is getting too big. Noel needs to eliminate him, maybe without making it seem like that’s what he’s doing? But why? Why wouldn’t he go ahead and kill him? Seems to be the best solution, and that’s what he does with everyone else who crosses him.”
“It’s possible they are in the business of double-crossing the other at the exact same moment.”
“We’ve got to get them both before it’s too late. We’ll end up in the same predicament if one disappears and resurfaces even stronger in a couple of years.”
“As long as there’s a need, there will always be drugs. Where there’s drugs, there will always be gangs and cartels.”
She’s right. Even if we eliminate these two men, someone else is going to pop up in another area. There will forever be this enemy.
Selena sneaks back out of the room, making sure to relock the door with the key that’s hung outside of it. I use the facilities while I wait to be released. If I’m released. Then I sit around the room, pacing from time to time to while away some boredom. I try to do pushups, but my shoulder can’t handle the strain, so I save my strength for a possible later need.
The sun slowly moves away from the window, cooling the room of its earlier overbearing heat. I’ve not had any visitors for hours. Checking the phone again for the third time, I’m surprised by the little number above the messages when the screen is booted back up. There hasn’t been anything since I started using it, so to see proof of life raises my spirits.
Unfortunately, it’s not who I wanted to hear from. Someone who isn’t aware of the phone owner’s death is trying to get in touch. It’s not entirely unhelpful though. The man goes on about the shipment being hijacked. He tells his friend that Noel is getting restless. He thinks Jose is getting wind he’s behind the recent raids and shootings. If Jose doesn’t trust him, he may go into hiding before Noel can dispose of him. He ends by telling the man to let him know that he’s okay as soon as he’s able to.
I contemplate messaging the guy back. Pretending to be his friend and telling him that he’s okay, but trapped at Jose’s. Would that get me more answers? I decide it’s worth a try.
The cell phone is decidedly dying. The battery life will be nonexistent before I know anything. I turn it off before the man can message back. As the sun slips over the other side of the wall, there is finally another knock at the door with news I’m free to join the crew for dinner.
I tried not to think of food, since I didn’t know when there would be some, but the moment the smell of chicken hits my nose, I begin to salivate. The hush over dinner is unnerving. Everyone in the camp seems to be on edge. I spot Selena across the room as I’m finishing up my second plate of food. She walks, her giddiness disrupting the sour mood of the area. She’s with the same man she had been flirting with on t
he night I was shot. He’s not someone I know, but he looks familiar. Very similar facial structure to Jose. Quite a bit taller than the man though. Selena seems to know him very well. He reaches down and places a kiss on her lips, lingering there for a split second before pulling back and walking away. She’s smiling from ear to ear, obviously infatuated with him. Whether it’s part of her cover, or real life, is yet to be seen.
She catches me staring at her, and she blushes. I think I have my answer. I’m not going to bring it up, if she doesn’t. It is none of my business. It’s against protocol, but some lessons have to be learned the hard way.
After dinner, no one comes to take me back to my room, so I roam the compound. There’s nothing happening. People are sitting around talking, drinking, and some even using the products they’re assumed to be making money on. Now would be the perfect time to strike—everyone is unaware, enjoying a little break from whatever has been happening and what is to come.
There’s talk about loading the different vehicles with what’s been delivered or manufactured here to distribute to the local dealers. Other people have mentioned middlemen who were arriving tonight to pick up their supplies. Could be a way out, should I choose to forego my mission and see myself to safety. Which isn’t likely. The thought is tempting and I toss it around with a few other ideas until I remember the possibility of someone hurting my wife and also, Selena. Plus, I’m sworn to my duty, the one I seem to be risking everything for.
By nightfall, the small town-like area is a bustle of activity. No one is sitting around. Everyone is busy preparing for one thing or another. The chemists are cooking, the gophers are packing the trucks, and a few men have arrived to pick up the drugs they ordered. Jose has been distant all day and I haven’t seen Selena since dinner. There’s been no word on what happened with the second truck, or maybe I haven’t been privy to the information, so I head back to the room I’ve been sanctioned and check the phone.