by Hugh Fraser
‘I had to, didn’t I?’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘If I hadn’t, he’d have beaten me half to death.’
The old girl starts playing the piano again and the singer gets his teeth into another old song. There’s a shout from the other end of the bar and a scuffle breaks out. More yelling, and then the door slams as someone gets kicked out.
Dave looks at me steadily and says, ‘If I tell my Dad what’s happened, you’re dead. You know that, don’t you?’
I nod.
‘There’s a way out of this for you.’
‘Go on.’
‘Do you know a bloke called Nick Bailey?’
‘Everyone does.’
‘Yeah.’
‘What about him?’
‘Johnny moved in on two of his clubs and he nicked some snide gear he had hidden as well. They’ve had a row going since way back and now Nick’s threatened to do him.’
A glass smashes somewhere nearby. There are beads of sweat on Dave’s forehead as he pours himself another drink.
‘If I put it about that Nick done Johnny he won’t deny it, because it’ll make him look good.’
He takes another look round the pub as if he could be overheard, even though he couldn’t be if he stood on the bar and shouted.
He looks into my eyes and says, ‘But you’ll have to kill him.’
‘Why don’t you do it?’
‘Cos I’ve got you.’
9
I count the dead insects sticking to the metal cowling around the solitary ceiling light. Its amber glow barely penetrates the gloom of the dank cell. The pain is intense. I focus on it and cling to it as it rolls through my body like a brute force, hugging me and claiming me as its own. I drop from the bunk onto the hard floor to intensify it, rolling on my bruises and grazed flesh and crying out as the floor pushes into me, making me solid and strong. I disappear into the pain and lie still against a wall.
I hear distant voices and a lock turning. The cell door opens and I am picked up and laid on the bunk. Lee and a guard are looking down at me.
Lee leans close to me and says, ‘You OK?’
I lift myself up slowly and sit against the wall. ‘Mmm,’ I reply.
‘You did a little damage out there.’
‘Good,’ I say.
Lee tells the guard to get him a chair and hands me a cup of coffee. I take a sip and press my back into the cold wall, but the pain only hurts now. The guard places a chair by the bunk and Lee gestures to her to leave.
He sits down and says, ‘I didn’t mean for this to happen.’
‘Really, how considerate.’
‘You were supposed to be put in solitary. They screwed up. I’m sorry.’
‘I decided to put myself there.’
‘Right.’
‘What is this, Lee?’
‘We want you to do something for us.’
‘What?’
‘Help us bust Manuel.’
‘Or else I get convicted and spend a good few years getting to know those ladies out there.’
‘Yes.’
‘And if I do?’
‘You get your passport and we deport you without notifying the British authorities.’
‘How do I know you’ll keep your word?’
‘You don’t. But you do bad things, Rina, and you know too much about us. We won’t want you around once your cover’s blown.’
‘Why me?’
‘Because you’re good and he’ll trust you.’
‘Do I have a choice?’
‘No.’
‘How does it work?’
‘You go see Manuel and tell him you want to buy a million dollars’ worth of cocaine.’
‘Why would he believe I have a million dollars?’ I say. I’m curious to see how he’s going to work this.
‘You tell him your old boss Martin left a million bucks and change across the border in El Paso for a deal he was planning, and you know how to get it.’
‘Why don’t you just go in and bust him?’
‘We have no jurisdiction there.’
‘So get the Mexican police to do it.’
‘He’s paying them off already and I want the collar.’
‘So set him up yourself.’
‘He knows I’m DEA.’
‘How come?’ I ask.
‘We needed to explain how I escaped the shooting, so we arranged for him to find out.’
‘Why wouldn’t he think I was DEA as well?’
‘Because you killed an agent in Acapulco.’
‘What?’
‘In your hotel room.’
‘He was DEA?’
‘We busted a couple of Manuel’s Mexican guys in LA a while ago, turned them around, put them on the payroll and sent them back to work for Manuel. They were both on the detail that Manuel sent to pick you up from the hotel in Acapulco. Guido, the little guy, was one, and you killed the other. After our little mishap on the road last night, Guido conveniently found evidence I’d left behind at the house that I and the agent you killed are with the DEA and gave it to Manuel. He went ape-shit, and Guido was able to convince him that you and I never got in the car with Gonzales.’
‘So why would he trust me now?’
‘You tell him I pulled you out after the reception, took you to the US, had you charged with the murder of the agent and you escaped.’
‘He’ll never buy it,’ I say.
‘Yes, he will.’
‘You’re crazy.’
‘Because that’s what you’re going to do.’
‘What?’
‘Escape.’
‘From here?’
‘Yes.’
‘You mean you’ll let me out.’
‘No. You have to be seen to escape and Manuel needs to get to hear about it from his Mexican friends in here.’
‘And how the hell do I escape?’
‘We’ll talk about that.’
‘There’s no way I’d go back to Manuel’s,’ I say.
‘What else would you do?’ asks Lee. ‘You’re out and alone and it’s a long way to Canada, you have no passport, no contacts and you’re wanted by the police, so it makes sense that you’d get yourself back to Mexico to avoid being recaptured here. Once you’re there it also makes sense that you’d want to take over Martin’s deal and sell the drugs yourself.’
‘It also makes sense that you’ve set me up to do it.’
‘Maybe so, but he’s running that risk every time he sells a pile of drugs. In this case, a million makes it worth it.’
‘How am I supposed to have travelled a thousand or so miles and got over the border with no money and no ID?’
‘You stole a car, drove to El Paso, picked up a little walking around money and bribed the border guards. It happens all the time.’
Lee looks at me as if he’s expecting an answer. ‘I have no choice,’ I say.
‘Right. You hungry?’
‘Yes.’
Lee goes to the cell door, opens the hatch and speaks to the guard. He returns to his seat and says, ‘You tell Manuel that you’ll go to El Paso to get the money by yourself, and arrange to meet him at the border at a time and a place that we’ll advise you of through Guido. You say you’ll only deal with him alone. If he brings anyone else, you won’t play.’
‘What if he tells me to bring the money from El Paso and buy the coke from him at the house?’
‘You say you want to sell it in the US, but you have no way of getting it over the border and you know that he does it all the time.’
‘Will he do it?’
‘For a million? Sure.’
The door opens and the guard enters with a tray of food, which she hands to me. I take the cover off a foil dish which has various compartments containing some kind of bean stew, vegetables, potatoes and a slice of bread. I taste it tentatively and find it surprisingly good.
Lee watches me as I eat.
‘Those bruises will add authenticity. Yo
u should get out there before they fade. How soon can you make it?’
‘I’ll have to look at my diary,’ I reply. Lee laughs.
‘You’re about as cool as they come, Rina.’
I know I have to do what he says. If I stay in jail either the sisters will kill me or I’ll end up on death row on a multiple murder charge. I reckon I stand a better chance of getting home from Mexico than the US.
As if reading my thoughts, Lee says, ‘Guido’ll meet you at the border and he’ll kill you if you try to run.’
‘What’s in this for him?’
‘If we get Manuel, he gets US citizenship.’
I finish eating and Lee calls the guard to take the tray. He offers me a cigarette.
I refuse and ask him, ‘You were never a dealer, never in the Marines?’
‘Oh, all that is true.’
‘So?’
‘I got busted in LA like those Mexican guys, got recruited and the career path took a swerve. The DEA need guys with professional experience, not degrees from Princeton.’
‘So why didn’t you set Manuel up when you were dealing with him before?
‘I was just about to when he hauled me in. It screwed up months of planning, so we had to improvise a little. Lucky for me you were there too, huh?’
Lee moves to the door and knocks on it.
‘I have a report to write. Get some rest and I’ll check in with you later. Be ready to go in six hours.’
The guard enters. As she leans close to pick up the tray I briefly consider killing her and Lee, locking them in the cell and taking my chances. Although I’d probably get shot before I got fifty yards down the corridor. They leave and the cell door clangs shut.
I lie on the bunk and breathe deeply. The pain is dull now and no use to me. I’m tempted to hurt myself but I know I need to be present and clear to find a way out of this mess. He’s right about getting back to Mexico. If I skip on this side of the border, every cop in Texas will be looking for me. I need to go along with the plan as far as Mexico and wait for an opportunity to take control.
I slide into sleep and dream of insects surrounding me and chattering hysterically in American accents. As I try to run away from them on leaden legs, the cell door opens.
The guard enters and says, ‘Get up.’
I follow her down a corridor to a shower room and am given soap, shampoo and a towel. The guard steps into the room with me, locks the door behind her, leans her considerable bulk against the wall and watches me take off my overall and step into the shower. She stares at me with cold eyes, her mean lips pursed, while I enjoy the feel of the soapy water on my tired body. I turn the temperature to its hottest and feel the burn of the scalding water on my bruised flesh.
I am alone for a few blessed moments until the guard shouts, ‘That’s enough now. Come on out of there.’
I turn off the water and dry myself. The door opens and two guards enter with a woman in a light blue nylon overall carrying a small tin box. She puts the box on the table, takes out latex gloves and puts them on.
‘Vaccination,’ she says.
The guards take hold of me and bend me over the table. I try to struggle free, but can’t move. I feel a burning pain between my shoulder blades. I am held down for a few seconds more and then released. I stand against the wall feeling the pain recede.
The woman in blue puts the syringe in the box along with the latex gloves, snaps the box shut and leaves, followed by the two guards. The remaining guard hands me my overall and I put it on.
She unlocks the door and says, ‘Out.’
She follows me back to the cell. Lee is waiting outside. ‘I’m taking the prisoner for interrogation,’ he tells her.
The guard takes a clipboard down from a shelf beside the door and gives it to Lee, who signs it and returns it to her. I follow Lee along the dark corridor and we climb stairs to a brightly lit ground floor passageway. We enter an office with a view of the perimeter fence and I see that it is dark outside.
‘What the fuck was that?’ I ask.
‘Radio frequency identification device, injected subcutaneously.’
‘What?’
‘You’re tagged. We know where you are at any time. If you decide to go off route we report the passport, driver’s license and the car as stolen and send the cavalry after you. I wouldn’t try to dig out the chip, it’s right next to your spinal cord. We’ll get it out safely after the job’s over.’
He indicates a canvas bag on the table.
‘There are some clothes. Put them on and I’ll be right back.’
He leaves the room. I try to reach the place between my shoulder blades where I was injected and can’t. I open a bag on the table and find a pair of bell bottom jeans, a tie-dyed T-shirt, a leather jacket, a pair of All Stars and assorted underwear. I shed my overall and put on the clothes. I look at my reflection in the window and see an ageing hippy looking back at me. I frizz my hair up and then drag my fingers through it to complete the effect.
Lee enters and says, ‘Hey, didn’t I see you at Altamont?’
‘Is this the best you could do?’
‘You look cool. Nobody takes a hippy for a serial killer.’
‘Not yet.’
‘Right.’
Lee sits down, takes a blade with a taped handle from his pocket, and places it on the table in front of me.
‘This is how it goes,’ he says. ‘I call the guard and say I need to go to the john. She stays with you and you make your move. The service entrance to the building is through the second door down the passageway to the right. There are two doors after that one, straight ahead of you, with one guard at each.’
He reaches into a pocket.
‘This is the key to a green Chevrolet Impala parked along the street outside to the left. There’s a map under the dashboard. You follow signs to Gatesville, then head for Austin, then San Antonio and you cross the border at Nuevo Laredo.’
‘What do I use for a passport?’
Lee takes a wallet from his pocket and lays an American passport, a driving licence and a sheaf of dollars on the table.
‘Remember Caroline?’ He taps the passport. ‘This will get you in and out of Mexico, but if you try to fly home with it, you’ll get arrested.’
‘You’ve really covered all the angles.’
‘It’s what we do.’
He pushes the money towards me and says, ‘This is enough for gas, food and a night in a motel.’
‘How far is it to Manuel’s?’
‘About eleven hundred miles, so it should take two nine or ten-hour days. Can you handle that?’
‘We’ll see, won’t we?’
‘I guess so.’
‘Why don’t you just take me back in a helicopter?’
‘He needs to believe you escaped. We can make sure he finds that out from his Mexican friends in here, but you need to be able to tell him how you got there. Also, he has all kinds of contacts with border guards and police and he can probably check that you crossed the border.’
I put the passport, licence and money in various pockets and put the prison overall back on. I peel some tape off the handle of the blade and stick it to the underside of the table. I need to get out of this building before I use it to do some serious damage to the smooth-talking bastard sitting opposite me.
‘What time is it?’ I ask.
‘Three-thirty a.m. Good to go?’
‘Yes,’ I say.
He knocks on the door and the guard enters. She is about my height and weight with cropped dark hair and an angular, acne-scarred face, deep set eyes, a prominent nose and thin lips. She directs Lee to the men’s’ room, locks the door after he leaves, stares at me briefly, sits on a chair by the door and chews at a fingernail.
I get to my feet slowly and clutch at my stomach. I let out a gurgling moan and reel forward onto the table. The guard crosses to me, says something I don’t hear and puts a hand on my back. I grab the near edge of the table, wrench it off the f
loor, pin her against the wall with the table top and ram my forehead into the bridge of her nose. Bone crunches and she goes limp and slides to the floor. I put down the table, pull her into the middle of the room and remove her weapon belt, shoes, trousers and shirt. I see that she’s wearing my bracelet and I unclip it and put it on my wrist.
I take off the overall, leather jacket and jeans and put on her uniform, noticing that she’s wearing split-crotch panties, which I decide to leave with her. I put the hippy kit back in the bag, sling it over my shoulder and strap on the weapon belt which contains a Smith and Wesson .38 snubnose, pepper spray, baton and hand cuffs. I check the gun is loaded, unclip the handcuffs, roll the guard onto her back and cuff her wrists. She stirs into consciousness. I help her up, sit her in a chair, stand in front of her and point the gun at her head. It seems a long time since I had power.
‘What’s your name?’ I ask.
‘Delores,’ she says, swallowing blood.
‘Listen to me, Delores.’
‘Fuck you.’
I hit her in the face with the gun butt. She passes out again and I realise that I don’t have time for conversation. I unlock the door, move behind Delores and pull her to her feet. As she comes round, I lock my arm around her neck and hold her with her back against me.
I press the gun barrel into her temple.
‘We’re walking out of here now and if you make one sound, or one move, I will blow your fucking brains out.’
As we leave the room I notice the blade, still taped to the upturned table, and decide to leave it.
I push the guard along the corridor to the second door on the right and put her against the wall beside the door. I take the key ring from my belt and show it to her.
‘Which one?’
She points to a key. I put it into the lock and make her stand in front of me with the gun at the back of her head. I reach around her, turn the key and remove it from the lock.
‘Open it,’ I say.
She turns the handle. I kick the door open and take her along an empty corridor to a door at the end. As we approach it, I hear voices on the other side. I turn Delores round to face me and force the gun barrel into her mouth.
‘When I knock on that door, you tell them who you are and then you tell them to open it.’
She nods and I turn her round to face the door, get a grip of her neck with one hand and kick the door.