by Jay Harez
“Excellent work getting across but I have to admit that I did not expect to hear from you again,” said Mr. Phone.
Araposta moved the filet knife to within a few centimeters of Charlie’s open eye.
Charlie assessed himself. He knew he was not a good man. He was not even a good person. His one characteristic that may have held some value was a coward’s will to live and knack for survival. At this moment even that trait had fled him.
“Driver? Can you hear me?” Mr. Phone asked.
Charlie’s final statement wouldn’t be known the world over. He would never be quoted in textbooks or by the next generation. His words would not inspire others to greatness. But he decided fuck all if he wasn’t going to live through this. So he said what he suspected would be his last three words.
“Open the truck”
EPILOGUE
The State Troopers surveyed the scene and called the Texas Rangers. As per usual, they sent one.
The mutilated and dismembered bodies of Araposta and his men were spread throughout the structure. No on realized that the Operations Manager for Shoreline Shipping had even been there. His identifiable parts were missing.
The incident was determined to be cartel related and summarily dismissed.
Charlie spent almost two months in the infirmary at the Stiles Correctional Facility in Port Arthur Texas. Although his back child support had been paid – as promised - he was required to serve some time for not having paid in the first place.
His original sentence was shortened from eighteen months to ten because he gave the feds all he could on Shoreline Shipping, LLC. It wasn’t much but it helped.
While serving his last month Charlie received a card, it read: “I have a another gig for you. D411,”
Charlie flushed the card.
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