The Prosecution of General Hastings
Page 41
CHAPTER FORTY
The night was warm and dry when Harry Kincaid and Pete Von Karmenn threw their belongings in the trunk of the rented Honda and pulled away from the boarding house. It was seventeen minutes after eight o’clock according to the clock on the dash. Harry gave the car keys to Pete who drove through the streets of Hermosillo retracing a route he had taken earlier in the day.
“How have you been getting around while you’ve been down here?” Kincaid asked.
“Oh, lots of ways. Walk, hitchhike, taxi, Sanchez, sometimes,” he answered. “There’s always a way.”
“How’d you check out this place this afternoon?”
“I took a cab down to Paseo Rio, the river walk, then got out and hoofed it. I’ve got a plan for our evening activities,” said Pete.
“I’m sure you do,” Kincaid grinned.
Pete Von Karmenn told Harry what he had in mind. After a few questions Kincaid agreed with Von Karmenn’s plan.
As they approached the restaurant Kincaid looked over the cars in the lot. He spotted the Mercedes that he’d seen earlier in the day at La Hacienda. Just as earlier, it was off by itself near a stand of trees. The lot was moderately full as the restaurant seemed reasonably busy on this Thursday night. Von Karmenn parked at the opposite side of the lot from the Mercedes. He reached for his Beretta and his silencer. He stepped out of the Honda and shoved the silencer into the front pocket of his jeans. He placed the pistol in the back of his waistband and covered it with the leather vest that he was wearing over a denim shirt.
“Okay,” he said to Kincaid. “I’m going in. None of them know me. Remember, Aziz is mine. You can have el Capitán and Carmello when they come out. Sanchez said they would be together and Aziz always stays later with his woman.”
Kincaid got out of the car on the passenger’s side and moved to the trunk. He took the keys from Pete. “Let’s hope he’s right. I don’t want to go chasing these guys all over Mexico tonight. We’ve got a date with the Ax Man in the morning.”
Von Karmenn walked over to the door of the restaurant and went inside. He stepped to the left, avoiding the hostess and walked into the bar as he had planned earlier in the day. He sat at a high top next to a half wall that overlooked the main dining room. There, across the room he spotted three men and a woman. He immediately recognized Capitán Lopez, and assumed the other Mexican was el Lobo. The black man at the table could only be Aziz and the woman, his companion. From the looks of their table, they were almost through with their meal.
An attractive waitress approached Pete’s table. “Something to drink, Señor?” she asked.
He smiled at her, “Una cerveza, por favor,” he said. A beer. She gave him a flirtatious smile and nodded.
Pete watched his prey. He could not hear their conversation but believed he could discern what was going on. Their waiter approached and asked about their meal and they all nodded. He left and returned a moment later with a smaller menu which he handed to each of the guests.
Pete’s beer arrived, placed in front of him by the waitress who introduced herself as ‘Rosa.’ It seemed like she wanted to chat. Pete returned her attention, smiling as if he was pleased to be the object of her interest. Rosa lingered a bit at his table and made small talk. Pete continued watching the four guests over Rosa’s shoulder.
Kincaid looked around the lot and saw no one moving about. In fact, he saw no one at all. He took several items from his overnight bag and approached the Mercedes. He checked the doors and found them all locked. He looked closer, checking hood latches and trunk latches before deciding what he would do.
A noise coming from the street startled him. He turned and saw an old man on the road behind him riding by on a bicycle. He stood still on the opposite side of the car and watched the man pass him by. When the man was out of sight, Kincaid continued with his task.
The waiter directed another server to remove the dishes from his guests’ table. He returned a moment later and placed an elegant dish of flan in front of the woman, then another in front of Lopez. Lobo and Aziz took a snifter of what could have been Brandy.
Pete continued to watch. Rosa returned and asked if he would like another beer and Pete declined. He hadn’t taken any from the first one, but the lighting was low enough that Rosa could not see it. She stayed a bit longer than necessary and chatted some more. His attention, however, was on the four guests whose dinner was winding down. Pete was half listening to Rosa and watching the table closely. Another couple entered the bar and took a high top across the room. Rosa excused herself to go wait on them.
The waiter approached the table again and handed the dinner check in a plastic wallet to Capitán Lopez. He removed a wad of bills from his pocket and placed them in the wallet. When the waiter returned he took the money and left the table.
Lopez stood, stepped away from the table and walked purposefully toward the Men’s Room. Lobo continued to chat with Aziz. Lopez returned momentarily and made no attempt to sit back down. Rafael Carmello stood up. He reached over and shook the hand of Farooq Aziz. El Lobo and Lopez turned to leave. Aziz motioned for the waiter to come back over and whispered something in his ear when the waiter leaned down. It seemed that Sanchez had gotten it right.
Harry Kincaid was half sitting, half lying in the front seat of the Honda when he saw Carmello and Lopez emerge from the restaurant. He watched them as they walked across the parking lot toward the Mercedes. Carmello reached into his pocket and removed the keys. He placed a key into his door on the driver side and turned it. He opened the door and pushed a button allowing Lopez to enter on the other side. They closed their doors. Carmello leaned forward and placed the key in the ignition. He turned the key and the Mercedes came to life. Carmello backed out of the parking space, then moved forward, out of the lot and up onto Boulevard Paseo Rio. He accelerated heading north, back toward the center of Hermosillo.
Pete was watching intently as Aziz and the woman were served another Brandy. They seemed to engage in a bit of foreplay, whispering, and leaning closer to each other. Pete noticed that the woman had placed her left hand below the table and was massaging the crotch of Aziz. He was smiling. And with his right hand, he was returning the favor.
Pete Von Karmenn almost laughed out loud when the explosion that shook the building completely ruined the mood for Farooq Aziz and his lady friend. Their expressions, he would later say, were priceless.
Von Karmenn reached for his Beretta. He stood and moved purposefully toward the table, and Aziz. Aziz noticed Pete immediately and jumped from the table, leaving the woman shocked, screaming, and sitting there. Pete could not take a shot as the distance between them was populated with other shocked and surprised dinner guests who were also rising from their tables. Aziz made a dash toward the restrooms and the back exit that was down the hall just past them. Pete heard the door slam when Aziz passed through hit, flinging it shut behind him.
Pete dashed through the door into the darkened alleyway. He was standing alone ten feet outside the building searching for Aziz. There was no one in sight. With a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, Pete slowly turned around and saw the barrel of the MX21, no more than seven feet away. It was pointed directly at his eyes with the smiling face of Farooq Aziz behind it.
“Allahu Akbar,” Aziz declared. And he pulled the trigger.
Von Karmenn heard the ‘click,’ and nothing happened. He didn’t hesitate. He raised the Beretta and placed one round on the bridge of Aziz’s nose. Blood, bone and gray matter splashed against the back wall of Los Magos Cena.
Von Karmenn moved quickly. He leaned down and took the MX21 from the dead hand of Farooq Aziz. He looked around the vacant alley and walked briskly around the corner of the building, up through the parking lot and got into the dusty rented Honda beside Harry Kincaid.
“Good dinner, Pete?” Harry calmly asked as he engaged the Honda in gear and pulled up onto Boulevard Paseo Rio and turned south.
“Truly memorable, Kincaid,” Pete an
swered. “I’ll tell you about it when I quit shaking.” Then, “Hey, you’re going the wrong way. Turn around.”
“Naw, there’s some kind of wreck or something just up the street. I’m going to go around the block to avoid the tie-up.”