by J. T. Baier
“Not who I expected,” the doctor said. “Did they make you a deputy or are you my new roommate?”
“Neither. I need your help.”
Doc Hanson smiled at that. “Well, I currently find myself with lots of time on my hands. How can I be of assistance?”
“Nicolás Marcillas. I need to speak with him.”
The doctor stared at Riker hard, as if trying to figure out if he was kidding. Then he turned to Alvarez. “Officer, my professional opinion is that Matthew Riker is at serious risk of self-harm. I recommend putting him on a twenty-four-hour suicide watch.”
Alvarez frowned. “What the hell are you talking about, Doc?”
“He says that he wants to talk to Don Marcillas. And speaking with the leader of a cartel without an invitation to do so is no different than putting a gun to your own head.”
Riker took a step into the cell, pushing down his mounting frustration. Chief Myers hadn’t had the cartel boss’s number. All communication went through Doctor Hanson. “Listen, you told us yourself that you were as good as dead already. What’s the harm in putting us in touch with Marcillas?”
Doctor Hanson raised a finger, as if he were a teacher about to give a lesson to a pupil. “Ah, but there are degrees of death. If I am killed simply to keep me out of the justice system for fear that I might talk, my death will be relatively easy. Perhaps a slit throat or a number of shanks to the torso before they let me bleed out.”
“That’s your idea of an easy death?” Alvarez asked.
“Comparatively. If they know that I talked, or worse, gave you Don Marcillas’ phone number, they will hand me over to El Leon. Then my death will be very slow indeed.”
Riker took another step forward. He was only two feet from Doctor Hanson now, and his long shadow fell over the older man. “Listen to me, you son of a bitch. You brought this force of evil into our town. I personally hold you responsible for every death the cartel has caused so far and every one they're going to cause when they get here tomorrow. Stop thinking about yourself for once and do the right thing. You think you can remember how to do that?”
Riker reached into his pocket and held out Doctor Hanson’s phone, which Alvarez had taken from the evidence locker. Hanson stared at the phone for almost thirty seconds. Finally, he spoke.
“I don’t have the number in my phone. They made me commit it to memory.”
“Then dial.”
Hanson reached out with a shaky hand, took the phone and tapped at the screen. Then he handed it back to Riker. “There. I’ve ensured my own torture and death. All you have to do is push Send.”
Riker drew a deep breath, then pressed the button.
The phone rang three times, and then a voice answered. To Riker’s surprise, the man on the other end spoke English.
“You are very lucky that I answered.”
“Am I?” Riker replied, careful to keep his voice even.
“Indeed. Doctor Hanson is in jail, and even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to call me after fucking things up so badly. No one who works for me would. So I assume this is the man who has been causing all the trouble.”
“Matthew Riker at your service.” Riker shifted the phone to his other ear.
The man on the other end let out a soft grunt of disapproval. “Well, Mr. Riker, either you are very, very good, or the men I left in charge of my operation in Kingsport are very, very bad. Either way, you have my attention. May I ask why you’re calling?”
“First, let me thank you for speaking with me,” Riker said in perfect Spanish.
Marcillas let out a sharp laugh before answering in Spanish himself. “Perhaps I underestimated the schools of Iowa. Your accent is quite good.”
“I didn’t learn Spanish in Iowa,” he said in English.
“Then where did you learn it?”
“Juarez mostly.”
There was a long pause. “Are you DEA, Mr. Riker?”
“No. I don’t work for the government, mine or yours. What I am going to ask you now is a personal favor.”
“And what favor is that?”
“Your operation in Kingsport is functionally shut down. The key players are either under arrest or soon will be. The production facility is destroyed.”
“This I know,” the drug lord answered.
“There is a substantial amount of product here, but it is not more than you can afford to lose. I would like to respectfully ask that you forget Kingsport, Iowa, exists. Tell the men who are on their way here to turn around and go home. Write off your losses and continue on with your life.”
Riker looked up and saw both Alvarez and Doctor Hanson staring at him, both of their faces drawn with surprise.
There was another long pause. “Forgive me if I’m not up-to-date on American customs, but my understanding was that a favor was something like driving a friend to the airport. What you’re asking is significantly larger than that. Tell me why I would agree to such a thing.”
“Because if you don’t, I’m going to make it my personal mission to destroy you and your entire organization.”
Marcillas let out a long, deep laugh that came from the belly. “Mr. Riker, you are an amusing fellow, I’ll give you that. But I believe you are in a bit over your head on this one. The list of men, governments, and organizations that have tried to bring me down is lengthy. Your name wouldn’t even rank in the top hundred things I’m worried about at the moment. If you somehow managed to locate me, you’d be dead before you got within a mile of my compound.”
“I’ll bet Javier Herrara felt the same way.”
“Herrara?”
“I assume you’ve heard of him?”
“Of course I’ve heard of him.” Marcillas’ voice was serious now.
“He had quite the operation,” Riker said, thinking back to the mission he’d carried out for QS-4 against the drug lord. “Major distribution network. Army of enforcers. Underground compound near Mexico City. Had being the operative word. He didn’t have any of those things when I was done with him.”
“Bullshit.” For the first time, there was a hint of anger in Marcillas’ voice.
“I assure you it is not. Ask around. I’m sure you have connections to people who worked for Herrara. Ask them about how he disappeared from his compound, never to be seen again. Ask about me. They’ll remember if they were involved in that incident. Ask them about Espantapájaros.”
“The Scarecrow,” Marcillas said in English.
“Yes,” Riker confirmed. “But it doesn’t have to go that way for you. I have no interest in ending your business or your life. All you have to do is tell me you’ll leave us alone. Just say the words, ‘I’m done with Kingsport’ and we will never speak to each other again.”
This time the pause was so long that Riker thought the drug lord might have hung up. Then Marcillas spoke in slow careful English, his voice thick with fury. “Let me tell you what is going to happen. My men are coming to your little, insignificant town, and they are going to take back what is mine and destroy everything that stands in their way. I don’t know what happened with Javier Herrara, but I do know our current situation. You have a drug-addicted town with an incompetent police department. I have many, many men, each trained and experienced in combat and willing to die to carry out my wishes. I have a team of your own townspeople who will do my wishes. I have military-grade weaponry. I have El Leon. My lion will kill you and everyone who stands with you, Officer Alvarez included. But your deaths will not be the end. Your families will be next. Then your friends. Then anyone I suspect gave you even the slightest bit of aid. Finally, I will order El Leon to bring me back your decapitated head so that I may piss into your dead mouth. You will rot with the taste of my urine on your tongue. Let that knowledge be your dying thought, Mr. Riker.”
“So I guess that’s a no, then.”
“Goodbye, Riker. We will not speak again.”
There was a click and the line went dead.
“Oh Jesus
, what did you do?” Doctor Hanson asked. “What the hell did you do? You just made it so much worse. He’s going to burn Kingsport to the ground.”
Alvarez raised an eyebrow. “I hate to say it, but Doctor Heroin has a point. Was it really a good move to piss him off?”
Riker gave a shrug. “He was already coming to kill us. Besides, I needed to hear his voice. I wanted to find out what he knows.”
“And did you?” Alvarez asked.
“Yes, actually. Chief Myers said he hadn’t informed anyone up the chain that Doctor Hanson was in custody, but Marcillas knew about that. That means there’s someone else in this town in contact with the cartel.”
“Great, just what we need. Another enemy.”
“But there’s good news too. When he was running down his list of the people he was going to kill, he didn’t mention Luke. That means he doesn’t know Luke is working with us. That’s an advantage we can use.”
Alvarez smiled weakly. “Well, I suppose that’s something.”
“Indeed it is.” Riker thought for a moment, considering their next move. “Okay, let’s circle the wagons. We have a hell of a lot of work to do before the enemy arrives.”
34
Time was going by too fast. Riker guessed that he had no more than sixteen hours to bring his plan together. That would be hard with a crew of professionals. What he had was a willing but unprepared group of misfits.
A clock in the shape of a cartoon cat, its eyes moving back and forth with the swing of its tail, guarded the wall of Megan’s living room. The time was almost noon. Conversation buzzed from five other people in the room. Megan had picked up sub sandwiches for everyone and the scent of freshly baked bread drifted through the air.
Riker took note of his team. Donnie, a drunk who was looking to avenge his brother. Joe Myers, a disgraced police chief with a lot to lose. Luke, his old friend who had gone astray. Officer Alvarez, a good cop who still held her optimism. Megan, a school teacher with spunk, and the last of his family. These people were not battle-tested. Riker knew that some if not all of them would be dead in the next twenty-four hours.
A whiteboard propped up on the couch displayed a roughly drawn map of the farm. Riker stood in front of it and cleared his throat. “I need everyone’s full attention for the next few minutes. We all have a part to play and if things go wrong, we will die.”
The conversations in the room stopped and all eyes turned to Riker. Luke and Joe nodded like the possibility of their deaths was old news. He could see that the others still didn’t truly understand the stakes of the game they were about to play.
Riker continued. “I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s true. Even if we all perform perfectly, we may not live through this. I’m telling you this because I need your complete focus. We do have a chance but only if we all work together, and only if we all do our parts correctly.”
“I’ll do whatever you need. I’m fine with dying if I take some of these assholes with me,” Donnie said with conviction.
“Thanks, Donnie, but the goal is to keep all of you alive and stop these guys.”
Megan frowned and turned to Chief Myers. “What about outside help? Shouldn’t we be calling the DEA or the FBI or something?”
The chief raised a skeptical eyebrow. “By tomorrow morning? If I call now, maybe they’ll send a guy out tomorrow or the next day to investigate. The wheels of bureaucracy turn slowly. Once we’re under attack, sure, they’ll send people. But they aren’t going to scramble a fighting force because I suspect some cartel guys are headed my way.”
Megan’s eyes fell. “So we really are alone.”
“Maybe so,” Riker said with a grin, “but at least we’re alone together. Luke, give me a breakdown of the men who are currently in town.”
Luke was sitting on the couch next to Joe. He awkwardly looked around the room and then stood before he spoke. It was apparent that he was not comfortable with public speaking, even in a small group. Luke looked at Riker “Should I go up front, or just talk from here?”
“Where you’re at is fine. Just go over the resources that the cartel has here in town.”
Luke nodded and drew a breath. “Well, my team is pretty thin right now. Between the twelve guys you took out last night and the other guys you injured since you’ve been in town, there are not a lot left. I’ve got five guys left at the construction company who are still able to fight, and there are eight guys out at the farm.” He paused, glancing at Megan. “Then there’s Blake.”
Megan grimaced at the sound of her student’s name. “I saw him getting into it with Eric Underwood’s son David the other day. I figured he was working with your crew. We have to keep him out of this.”
“Agreed.” He turned back to Riker. “The women who work the production side of things are already gone. Most of them barely speak English, and I suspect they were here against their will. I gave them enough money to get home after you burned down the barn. I told the others the cartel was calling them back.”
Riker nodded, glad he didn’t have to worry about getting the women somewhere safe before the next morning.
“Our one advantage is that no one knows the cartel is coming except for me,” Luke continued. “It’s my job to get them out to the farm tomorrow morning. Seems I’ve failed to mention it to them so far.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” Riker thought for a moment. “Anybody left that you can trust completely?”
Luke considered that, then shook his head. “There’s not one of them I could guarantee wouldn’t sell us out to save his own hide.”
“Do you think any of them know you are helping us?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Excellent. Do you have any heavy equipment at the construction site?”
“Of course. We do run an actual construction company. What kind of equipment are you talking about?”
“A bulldozer and an excavator. Bring both of them to the farm.”
“They are going to ask why I’m bringing equipment there. What do I tell them?”
Megan shook her head as if Luke were one of her slow students. “They were storing a bunch of drugs in an underground lab that just burned up. There may be things down there worth salvaging. Just tell them you had the brilliant idea to dig it up with your big equipment.”
Luke nodded his head. “Right, right, that makes sense.” He turned back to Riker. “Why do you want the equipment?”
“When the cartel arrives at the farm I don’t want them to have the option to leave. We will use the equipment to block them in or destroy their vehicles. That will be phase two.”
Alvarez asked. “So what’s phase one?”
“The cartel is sending between twenty and fifty men to this town. According to Luke, there are an additional thirteen local operatives. We need to secure the farm so we can prepare it for the arrival of the cartel.”
Megan spoke up. “Are we sure that the cartel’s going to the farm?”
Joe Myers answered. “At the end of the day, it’s always about the drugs and the money. They have a lot of product at that farm. Getting it will be priority number one.”
“I agree, but killing Doc Hanson will be a close second,” Riker interjected. “He knows too much, and they are already aware that he is in custody. If there is a second target, it will be the jail. They may send someone straight to the station to take him out. We will need to leave at least a team at the station to protect him.”
The chief nodded. “I guess it makes the most sense for that to be me and Officer Alvarez.”
“Agreed. Just be ready. El Leon may walk in the front door with a smile on his face before spraying the room with an automatic weapon.”
“Got it. We will have a mandatory vest rule for the next twenty-four hours.”
“Speaking of vests, how much gear do you have at the station? This is going to take all the firepower we can get our hands on.”
Joe smiled. “Honestly, we have way more gear than you would ex
pect. Our supply room is filled with SWAT gear. We have automatic rifles, tactical shotguns, two sniper rifles, vests, and a host of miscellaneous gear. When they sent us all that stuff, I thought it was a major waste. We don’t even have a SWAT team. I guess it’s nice to have it when you need it.”
“I don’t recall them sending us a bunch of great equipment that we didn’t ask for at the school,” Megan said. “In fact, I had to buy my own stapler and hole punch this year.”
“I don’t think we need to debate budgetary politics. I’m just glad that we don’t need to make another run to Home Depot for supplies to fight the cartel,” Donnie said.
“Same here,” Riker said. “Boards with nails work just fine on small-time drug dealers, but I’d rather have some real weapons for this fight. After we secure the farm, I’ll go to the storage locker with Joe and Alvarez to get us some gear.”
“What about me? Do you want me running around with a shotgun?” Megan asked.
Riker wanted to tell Megan to get out of town before the fighting started, but he knew where that conversation would end. “Strong communication is going to be essential, especially because we are fighting on two fronts, the farm and the police station. I need you to help coordinate everything. You’re our command center and the rest of us will communicate through you.”
For a moment it looked like she was going to object, but then she uncrossed her arms. “I can do that. Honestly. I was scared that you were going to hand me a shotgun, pat me on the back and say go get ‘em, tiger.”
Luke laughed at the thought. “If only your students could see you running around with a shotgun defending the town. I bet none of them would ever goof off in class again.”
Joe did not laugh; his face was solemn. “Let’s try to focus on the task. This is no joke.”
“Chill out. I always joke around when I’m nervous.” Luke returned his attention to Riker. “What’s next, coach?”
“When you bring the construction equipment to the farm I’m going to move in and clear out any hostiles. I’ll try not to kill your crew, but this will be a winner take all fight.”