by Ted Clifton
Sally couldn’t believe it—she was being kidnapped. She knew they couldn’t hurt her for the moment or they wouldn’t get Pat to do whatever it was they wanted him to do. She also knew that either one of the goons would be a living nightmare if he were turned loose on her. She was terrified and royally pissed off at the same time. She started thinking about Pat and what he would do when he found out she had been taken. This didn’t feel like it was going to end well. Maybe someone had seen her being taken to the car and had called the police, but that thought seemed more like a prayer than anything else. She closed her eyes and cried.
Ciudad Juarez, Chihuahua, Mexico / El Paso, Texas
Pat had concluded the business portion of his meeting with Juan and Francisco and was enjoying some conversation with the two men. While to say they were friends probably stretched the meaning, Pat felt close to them, both in business and in their personal relationships. The contrast with the hoodlums from Texas was amazing. They were just shaking hands in farewell when the receptionist came in and whispered something to Juan.
“Is he still on the line?” Juan asked the receptionist. She nodded.
“This is very strange Pat—there is a man on the line wanting to speak to you. He has given Maria the message to tell you that this is about Sally and whether you will ever see her again or not—does that make sense to you?” Juan looked very concerned.
Pat felt a panic. There was only one asshole who would even talk like that—it had to be Giovanni.
“Yes, it does Juan. I’m afraid I’ve gotten myself mixed up with some bad people, and the guy on the phone is one of them. I need to talk to him and find out exactly what he’s talking about, but I’m afraid this isn’t good.”
Juan and Francisco both looked worried. Juan asked Maria to transfer the call into one of the offices. Juan showed Pat into the office and said he could pick up the phone and his call should be on the line. Juan left and shut the door.
“This is Patrick Allen. Who is this?”
“Well, well, how the hell is Mexico, Pat?”
Pat’s fears were confirmed. Giovanni, the asshole.
“If you’ve done anything to Sally, I will track you down and kill you—do you understand me?”
“Pat, why would I hurt Sally? She’s a lovely person. It’s just that you’ve decided to put her at risk, because you’re too fucking stupid to understand how things stand. You’re going to take my offer or see a lot of bad shit happen to you—and everybody you know. Do you understand what’s happening here, Pat? You said no to me. I don’t like that, so we’re going to reopen our discussion about the future of your business. And guess what—you’re going to say yes.”
“Where is she—have you hurt her?” Pat wanted to scream—to find the son-of-a-bitch and kill him—but he needed to remain calm and try to make this end without Sally getting hurt.
“I already told you asshole—she’s not hurt, yet. Two things are going to happen, unless you do what you should have done in OKC and take my offer. One is that your wife is going to learn all about Sally, with some nice photos of the two of you. That’s going to be a special moment for her. And two, if you don’t do what I want, Sally is going to suffer—real bad.”
“You’re a real low-life piece of shit aren’t you, Giovanni.”
“You know Pat I could hang up right now and a lot of bad shit would fall into your lap—so why don’t you watch your mouth and let’s figure out how we can conclude our business. Okay?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“That’s more like it, chum.”
Giovanni told Pat to meet him in an hour at an old hotel near downtown El Paso. He wanted Pat to give him the names of all his contacts with local, state, and federal officials, and he wanted to know how much each was being paid. He wanted a list of all of Pat’s customers in Oklahoma and Texas. He wanted all of the details on Pat’s operation in New Mexico. He said Pat would stay in the room where they were meeting until he finished listing everything. Then Pat would sign a document confessing to bribing officials and bootlegging. Finally, if Giovanni was satisfied, he would tell Pat where to find Sally and he could go get her. Otherwise, they’d both die.
Pat didn’t see a choice open to him, so he agreed but told Giovanni it would take him at least two hours to get there and Giovanni accepted this small change to the plan.
Pat had no idea how Giovanni had known where he was or how he had gotten the phone number. It seemed odd that Giovanni didn’t mention anything about the Mexicans—did he not want to mess with them or just think they weren’t worth discussing? Pat felt out of his element—he was just a booze salesman, not a gangster.
After thinking for a while, Pat joined the Martinez brothers in the conference room. They were curious and concerned about his phone call. Pat shared everything with them. The reaction was quick and violent. “We know Giovanni—he is the worst kind of scum and extremely dangerous. I cannot believe he would try to take over your operation. He has been mostly unsuccessful in Texas because he sees every business deal as a threat. His idea of taking care of a customer is to shoot him if he is not doing what Giovanni wants.”
“Actually, Pat, we may be part of your problem. We have heard, since we have started to sell you some product, your Texas friends have decided that we are getting ready to take over your business and expand into Texas—which is just stupid.”
Pat couldn’t believe it. Was he caught in the middle of something that he wasn’t even aware of?
“Guys, I’m a booze salesman. You knew that when we first met. I’m not running some kind of hoodlum enterprise, I’m just trying to sell some hooch to the folks who want it. It’s not my fault these ridiculous politicians appease their Christian supporters with this ‘stop drinking stop sin’ campaign. I just want to make a little easy money and live what’s left of my life in peace.”
“We know who you are, Pat—you are our friend. We will help you with Giovanni. We know his kind and what has to be done to stop him.”
Pat’s head was spinning. The Martinez brothers, two of nicest people Pat had ever met, were now ready to go to war against this evil pile of shit Giovanni because of him—what was going on? There was something missing—what was it?
“Why would they think you were going to take over my business in Oklahoma? That doesn’t make any sense at all.”
“At one time Giovanni was selling in El Paso, San Antonio, and Houston. Those areas are now being supplied by us. This has led to a small feud between our two organizations. We never had any designs on your business, and we recognize that without you there probably would not be much going on in Oklahoma. Our analysis was that if we took over, or for that matter if Giovanni took over, the officials would move quickly to legalize alcohol and the bootlegging days would be over. Giovanni, on the other hand, probably thinks he can threaten everybody—from the governor on down—and everything will be just fine.”
“You know, I was and am willing to let Giovanni have my business. I just didn’t want to have to deal with him in maintaining the kickbacks and keeping things running. He misunderstood what I wanted. He can have everything. I just want to be done. No further contact with him.”
“Maybe we can help.”
Juan gave Pat a slip of paper with a name on it, Manuel Reyes, along with a phone number. Juan said Pat could trust Manuel completely, with his life if it came to that—words that didn’t exactly comfort Pat. Francisco had left the room, but now returned. He indicated to Pat that Manuel had been told where Pat was meeting Giovanni and that arrangements were being made. Everything would be ready by the time Pat got to the hotel. The meeting was to be at Hotel Cortez on Mesa at Mills. Pat wasn’t completely sure where that was, but Juan gave him directions.
Pat thanked the Martinez brothers and left. Heading back across the bridge into the USA, things were only slightly more secure than when he’d crossed the other way. He did have to stop, and a border guard asked him if he was a US citizen. Pat said yes, asking rhe
torically where else he’d get an Okie accent. The guard waved him through. Juarez and El Paso sure didn’t seem to worry much about who crossed the border.
Once across, it was just a short drive into downtown. Pat quickly found Mesa Street and headed in the direction Francisco had indicated. Within a few blocks he found Mills Avenue, with the hotel on the corner. There was parking across the street and Pat pulled in. Sitting there for a moment, he gathered his thoughts, and the pause seemed to calm him. His fears were all about Sally and how horrible he felt that she’d been caught up in this mess. He knew it was his fault, and that just made it worse. He was afraid of Giovanni, and of what he might do to Sally—but he was also very angry. He didn’t have a gun, although Juan had offered him one. Pat wasn’t a gun person, and no doubt would have ended up shooting himself or some innocent bystander. Unarmed and scared shitless, Pat wasn’t much of a threat to Giovanni and his goons.
His plan was not about violence, it was about negotiation. Pat had been negotiating all of his life, and it was something he was good at. All he wanted was to get Sally out of there and someplace safe—he would agree to anything Giovanni wanted to accomplish that. After that he didn’t know what he would do, but she had to be safe.
Pat got out of the car, cut across the street, and entered the hotel. He would meet Giovanni in the lobby. When Pat entered it was so dark he couldn’t see well enough to determine whether anyone was waiting or not. He stood still for a minute to let his eyes adjust. While he was standing there, Giovanni walked up to his side.
“Nice to see you, Pat. If you don’t mind let’s step over here and see if you were dumb enough to bring a weapon.” Pat let Giovanni direct him into the shadows of the lobby. The mobster quickly checked to see if Pat had a gun.
“Stand here and keep fuckin’ quiet while my guys check to see if you were followed.”
Pat was terrified, but he didn’t know what to do. The Mexicans had said they would help, but hadn’t told him how or when. He felt helpless and that made him angry. What should he do? What could he do?
“John, you need to release Sally now. I’ll agree to whatever you want. You can have the damn business. All I want is to get Sally back safe and unharmed.”
“Well, that sounds very good Pat. I guess we both want the same thing. I’m sure we can make that happen once we agree on the details and I get what I need from you. And let me assure you, my little escapade with Sally was just to get your attention. She’ll be safe as long as you do what you’re told, shithead.”
In a very ugly part of his primate brain Pat regretted not bringing a gun or a knife—or maybe a big rock. His whole being was telling him to destroy this vile man. But he did nothing, wanting only to get Sally released and safe.
One of Giovanni’s men came into the lobby and gave Giovanni a thumbs up, apparently indicating that Pat had come alone.
Giovanni gave Pat a shove and said they were going upstairs. Pat headed toward the elevator, but Giovanni said they would use the stairs. Climbing to the third floor, they exited into a hall. Giovanni told Pat to head to room 308. Pat arrived at the door and waited while Giovanni took out his key. Opening the door, Giovanni pushed him inside. The room was empty. Pat had been hoping that Sally might be in the room—not knowing what he was up to, he was becoming more and more worried about Giovanni.
“Just sit down over here at the desk. My guys will bring Sally to us in just a minute. In the meantime, you need to start writing a list of your contacts and how much each is being paid.”
Pat sat. “Listen, John, if you try and strong arm these ol’ country boys in Oklahoma, it won’t work. They’ll either take up arms against you or force the legislature to pass laws to legalize booze. Your tactics won’t work in my state.”
“Pat, you’re a backward hick. Let me tell you something. Even your hick friends will start to pay attention once a couple of them are found dead with no balls.”
Well, he might have a point there.
There was a knock on the door, no doubt Giovanni’s two goons, maybe bringing Sally in tow. Giovanni got up and started to open the door when it was suddenly shoved into him, knocking him across the room. Pushing their way into the room were two immense Mexicans. Each one had to weigh three-hundred pounds at least. They almost literally filled up the room. One of them had a gun, which was pointed at Giovanni. Giovanni started to reach into his coat, but one of the giants gave him a backhanded slap across the face with such force that it knocked him against the wall and left him only semi-conscious. They searched Giovanni and took his gun. Then they taped his mouth shut and tied his hands behind his back.
An elegantly dressed man followed the giants into the room once Giovanni was incapacitated. “Pat Allen, my name is Manuel Reyes—I believe we have mutual friends.” He reached out and shook Pat’s hand. “Mr. Giovanni’s friends are upstairs in room 410. I have two additional men up there with them. Your friend Sally is also upstairs waiting for you—she is unharmed.”
Pat wanted to run immediately to Sally, but things were changing fast and he wasn’t sure of himself. “Can I go and see her?”
“Let’s step out into the hall for a minute.” Reyes moved aside and followed Pat into the hall. “Our friends, the Martinez brothers, told me that you should leave now with Sally and return to Oklahoma City. We will clean up this little mess. Once everything is under control they will contact you. Do you need me to do anything further to assist you?”
Pat wasn’t sure he understood what was happening, but at that moment he just wanted to find Sally and get the hell out of Dodge. “No, I don’t need anything else. Thank you so much, and be sure and thank Juan and Francisco for me.”
“Yes sir, I will let them know. Goodbye.”
Pat went up the one flight of stairs and entered room 410. There was no one there—except Sally. Pat was so relieved that he excitedly hugged her so hard he thought it might crush her. She cried and hugged him back just as hard.
“Where are the goons?” he asked her. “I thought there were some Mexicans here holding them—what happened?”
“They just left. They told me to stay here, that you would be here in just a minute. The Mexicans took the goons with them. Pat, I have never in my life been so scared. If I ever get the chance, I am going to put a bullet in that asshole Giovanni. Oh, Pat, I am so glad to see you!”
They hugged again, as if they might hang on to each other and never let go. After a while, though, Pat said they needed to get downstairs to the car and get back to Las Cruces. He told Sally that, if possible, they were going to leave that day for OKC.
El Paso, Texas / Las Cruces, New Mexico / Albuquerque, New Mexico
They practically flew down the stairs, but saw no one. They walked through the lobby and out to the street, where they found Pat’s car. He took the most direct route to get back onto the highway and headed toward Las Cruces. As they left El Paso, Pat felt both a sense of relief and a feeling of dread. He wasn’t sure what was happening. He sure the hell hoped he hadn’t gone from bad to worse.
Pat and Sally didn’t talk much on the drive to Las Cruces. They were both coming down from a huge adrenaline rush. They needed a nap—or maybe one very big drink.
“Sally, I’m so sorry this has happened to you. I had no idea that Giovanni would be so stupid as to try and hurt you to get to me—it just never crossed my mind. I just should never have gotten you involved in this in any way—I’m so sorry.”
Sally just grinned. Pat was a little worried that maybe she’d been so traumatized that something had snapped.
“Pat, I know you didn’t mean for that to happen. I was scared to death, but right now I feel more alive than I ever have. I think I may have become addicted to these life and death situations, what do you think?” She was smiling. Okay, she had lost it. Addicted to life and death situations? This girl had gone off the deep end.
“Sally, I think it’s time you find a more normal life—actually, I think I need to find a more normal life.”
This struck them both in the funny bone, and they began to laugh and laugh. The release of anxiety had a physical reaction and made them giddy.
After a good laugh the tension was reduced to a more livable level by the time they pulled into the hotel parking lot. They locked the car and went straight to their room. Sally didn’t have a key, but Pat still had his. Once in the room, they sat down and Pat explained what he thought they should do.
“I think we file a flight plan to go up to Albuquerque this afternoon. Spend the night there, refuel the plane in the morning, and then head to Oklahoma City. Does that sound okay to you?”
Sally agreed that she’d sleep better tonight if they were somewhere else—hopefully somewhere that no one could find them. She was acting brave, but her nerves were on edge.
While Pat was on the phone filing his flight plan, Sally packed. They would leave the car at the Las Cruces airstrip with the key hidden in the same place as they’d found it. He would call Emerson that night and let him know to pick it up.
It would be late afternoon before they were airborne, but they would be in Albuquerque before sunset with time to spare. Pat wasn’t comfortable making a night landing, which was why they would stay in Albuquerque before they headed out to OKC in the morning. The Albuquerque airport had an FBO, so Pat called and arranged for the plane to stay overnight, with refueling in the morning, and also gave their ETA. The FBO offered to arrange a hotel room at a nearby hotel and give them a ride to the hotel, then pick them up in the morning. Pat appreciated their customer service.