Terry owned a mortgage company with about thirty employees, made a lot of money, had been divorced for a few years and of course he knew Tara, a beautiful, young black woman. He kept his word and introduced me to Tara, and we hit it off, and he starting dating one of Tara’s friends, Ebony. She loved going out for dinner and drinks and loved to hot tub and orgy, too. We all went to Vegas a few times, staying in suites that we shared. We would take the girls to tittie bars and rent high class hookers to come back to the suites with us.
One day Terry called me to meet him for lunch, and during lunch he asked me if he could get a pound from me. He said that he had some friends from the upper echelon who would be interested in buying pure coke. They were loaded, attorneys, doctors and judges who didn’t care how much it was per ounce as long as it was pure. He had a list of about a hundred people! I told him the problem with selling them more than an eight ball at a time is that they will do too much and get busted. “They will roll over on you and then you’ll roll over on me,” I told him. He was shocked and insisted that he wouldn’t do that.
I explained that he would when his house, business and kids were taken away from him, and he was looking at fifteen years. I told him to think about what I said overnight and that I would, too. I explained to him that I could spend two hundred thousand a year, and I would never outlive my money, so that if I decided to do this, it would be for the excitement, not the money.
A couple of nights later we met at my house for drinks and to talk things over. I let him know that the people I dealt with were very dangerous, and that if either of us took a pinch over this, they would kill both of us without batting an eye. I also told him that if he got busted, I couldn’t let him live to go to court, because he would make a deal.
I asked him at that point what he had to say. He said he still wanted to do it. I was getting bored anyway, so I was willing to take the chance. We had to set some rules down and spent the next couple of hours doing just that. We came to an understanding that if either one of us took a pinch, court would be held then and there, as neither of us was interested in going to jail for twenty to thirty years.
Before he left, he requested that if he lost his nerve at the last minute, would I take care of him? I looked him in the eyes and told him not to worry. I would have anyway, even if he hadn’t requested it.
In a few weeks I found a distributor in Phoenix by buying fifty pounds of pure blow and using an old technique I had learned over the years. I marked up our deal to twelve hundred per ounce, and he paid me in cash. At the first pickup, which Terry made, it was five ounces, and then increased to thirty ounces in six months. All the big hitters wanted more for their friends, lovers and whoever.
Nothing beats blow for sex. Women get wild, as do men, but men can stay hard for days, and they never have enough and never fall asleep! Both men and women love to dance, and they lose their inhibitions. It seems with men, they only get to enjoy great sex with their mistresses because their wives have long since stopped enjoying sex for just sex, and they are too busy keeping up appearances, the house and the kids. They only have obligatory sex a few times a year, including their husband’s birthday, of course. Sex is not being just available for sex, but keeping in shape, keeping the weight down, putting makeup on and acting sexy and exhibiting sexy behaviors, like stripping and pursuing your mate. It should be had everywhere, not just in bed with the door closed and the lights off.
We had a few rules during our coke business together; no cut ever, eight balls only, no new customers and pay me later or I take it back and it must be the same. The last deal is the best because they never have it to give it back. In over two years no one ever had any left.
CHAPTER 9
Terry had a relative who was an old attorney from New York who did the biggest deals in Mexico; shrimp, cars and soda. He had the only Cadillac limo in Mexico, and he gave the officials truck loads of cash for each deal, and the people of Mexico got relatively nothing. When we went to Mazatlan with the girls, he would have us picked up at the airport by limo with flags on the fenders and all, and we were given carte blanche by the Mexican government.
I had a card I carried that was written in Spanish that I was supposed to flash if we ever got in trouble with the Federales. One time the four of us were staying in suites at the Tennis and Yacht Club and had spent the night drinking at Senior Frogs. On our way home in the limo that night as we were rounding a corner, the door flew open. I was leaning against it at the time, so I fell out onto the busy street. Needless to say, the Federales were right there and arrested us for reckless and drunk driving. When I showed them the card, they were really shocked and couldn’t apologize enough. They let us go on our way.
Another time, we were staying at the same club, and we met an old gal at the pool who we thought was in her fifties. She was loaded with diamonds, was wearing a bikini and looking good, and after several drinks, she invited us up to her condo. Later when we asked her how old she was she told us she was seventy five! She told us that she gave herself a shot each morning that kept her from aging. The shot cost one thousand dollars a pop! This was the same injection taken by Churchill and many movie stars. She came from a very influential family that had had several books written about them over the years. She herself was a survivor of the ‘Titanic’, but she lost her father and mother and several servants on that shipwreck.
She gave each one of us a shot, and after I got mine I jogged down the beach five miles and back. We all danced and had an orgy which lasted for several hours. She was thin, tan and firm, the kind of body that only an active life will give you. I heard several years later that she was killed in the parking garage for her necklace and other jewels she was wearing. In any case, my partner Terry’s uncle died, and we didn’t go to Mazatlan anymore.
Our business was doing well, and we continued selling the eight balls to a limited number of clients, and therefore, there was very little risk involved. Then one day, when I was taking delivery of two kilos, the delivery man and I recognized each other. I used to see him when I was doing the plane deal in Rocky Point. I wasn’t sure if he recognized me though.
About two weeks later I found out he did when I saw a car parked at the end of my cul de sac with two Mexicans sitting in it. I knew I had been outed, but I couldn’t do anything while they were there.
I obtained twenty hits of LSD through a local dealer, a pizza and a couple of cans of beer. After sprinkling the LSD on top of the pie, I had a friend drive up to the car with the hot pizza and two cold beers. In less than an hour they were outside their car, dancing and taking their clothes off.
I called the cops and they were arrested. I was then free to make a move and do what I needed to do. I had an attorney friend of mine bail them out in the morning, and he directed them to my car. I told them I worked for the Cartel and would give them a ride to the border. I also told them not to show up for court or worry about forfeiting bail.
When they first got in the car, they said they wanted food and to be taken to their car. I took them to a drive-through for some food and told them their car was gone, but that their boss was getting them another one.
“Where do you need to go?” I asked them.
“Lukeville,” they said. I now knew who they were, but I needed to know who was behind this. During the four hour trip, I found out that it was the surviving Garcia brother who was in the wheelchair. He was meaner than ever now that he was in the chair and had lost the use of his legs—he was the head of the Cartel.
After dropping them off at the check point I headed north to Phoenix. During the trip, I had plenty of time to think and knew I had to go to Mexico to take him out.
When I got home I made a plan to do just that. I had a friend get me a clean car and a passport. I packed the guns, grenades and the RPG and started growing a beard. I met with Terry and gave him a map so he could find the rest of the shit if I didn’t come back. He wanted to go along as just the thought of the gun play got him excited.
“I’ll think about it,” I told him and would call him with my answer. I left in the morning and called him when I was about half way to Rocky Point and told him no, that he needed to keep the business running and the girls happy.
I ran to the border, got a place to live in Rocky Point and went to a local bar to start learning all I could about Jose Garcia and his habits. One thing I was told really bothered me. He was a sadist, and he had a square freestanding building at the compound that was set up for torture. He filmed everything so he could watch it over and over again.
His favorite torture scenario was tying a person to a steel chair with wire. The chair sat over a floor drain, and he would set an acetylene torch to their fingers. He would burn off one finger at a time if they did not give him the answers that he wanted. They would cry that they wanted to be shot, but he kept this up for hours or days at a time, and he would video the whole thing.
The only possible way to get to the house was by sea, and it would have to be done at night. Rocky Point has one of the highest tides in the world at 22 feet. I had to take this into consideration, too, because in Las Conchas where he lived, the tide goes out a half a mile twice a day. If I was out there at the wrong time, day or night, my boat and I would be high and dry just a half a mile from the house.
I got a tide chart and made three or four practice runs so I knew as best I could what to expect from the ocean. I had to wait for nine days ‘til there was no moon before I could attack the compound.
When the night finally arrived, I started a fire in one of the empty houses that was a short distance down the beach. Soon there were about a hundred people at the fire, including half of the guards from the compound. The rest of the guards were standing and watching the blaze from the compound. The fire was really big by this time and leapt into the night sky about eighty feet.
I crept out of the surf toward the beach gate. The two guards were watching the fire, so I shot and killed them with my silenced Calico.
When I got to the house, I peered in several windows at the ground level but did not see Jose. I figured he would most likely be on the ground floor because he was confined to his wheelchair. I broke a small window out of one of the French doors and unlocked it. When I entered, to my surprise, I found there was an alarm magnet on the door, but no alarm sounded. It had most likely been shut off because the guards had gone out to see the fire, or maybe it was just a Mexican thing. I came across three guards and shot them in the back of their heads with my silenced 9mm Glock. When the third spun around, I shot him twice in the chest and once in the head.
I was searching the rest of the house for Jose, and opened a door to find two guards in the process of putting him in his wheelchair. Their machine guns were on the bed, so I made them lie down on the floor next to each other, and I shot them each once in the head.
I searched Jose, then wired-tied his hands and feet to his wheelchair and wheeled him to his block house. Inside the torture chamber, there was a steel chair bolted to the floor in the middle of the room. There was a floor drain and a lot of tools he used for torturing his victims and a shelf with at least a hundred video tapes on it. The room smelled of blood and death, and the walls were spotted with blood that gave the room an eerie and crimson hue.
I wheeled him next to the steel chair and wire the chairs together and then asked him if he knew who I was.
He said he did not, so I let him know that I was the guy that put him in the wheelchair and that turned his brother over to the DEA. I also told him that I was the one he tried to kill in Tucson.
He then told me he realized now that I was also the guy that stole his million dollars and that I was really Sheriff Mack. He took great pleasure in thanking me for leaving Elena behind for him and told me he had the video if I wanted to watch it. He taunted me with the fact that she had been in his care for two days before she died, and that he had burned off both her hands which made her too weak to even cry before she died.
I have never hated a person as much as I did him and was not going to just kill him as planned. I was going to make his death as painful as I could. I wished that I could take him back to my place and torture him for days before killing him, keeping him alive on adrenaline, so he could feel and suffer as Elena and so many others had by his hand.
I taped his mouth shut and went outside to the garage where I found an old tire that I brought back and placed over his head and shoulders. I then got one of the acetylene torches and some lighter fluid from his vast array of torture items and lit the tire on fire.
He kicked and squirmed and screamed as the flames enveloped his head and shoulders. I took an arm full of videos and put them in his lap and then poured gas all around the building. I shut the door and walked, listening to his muffled screams, all the while wishing I could torture him for days as he had Elena.
When I got to the back gate, I surprised an armed guard and killed him with a burst, then got in the surf and made my way out to my boat. By now the vacant house fire was under control, but the fire I set in Jose’s torture chamber was big and had jumped to the garage and then to the main house.
I was incensed by Jose’s comments about Elena and decided on the trip back to Phoenix that I would destroy the Cartel by killing everyone involved or by dropping a dime on them.
First I had to get to Phoenix and get everything set up, and I had decided to ask Tara if she wanted to retire with me in Rocky Point. When I got back, I told her I would put one hundred thousand in an account for her now, and if she came with me she would never have to worry about money, as I had millions for us to live on. I would also give her five thousand a month for her personal use. I also told her that if something happened to me, any money we had left would be hers to keep.
Tara agreed to come with me, so I instructed her to get a safety deposit box and pay five years rent in advance for it. Then I gave her the one hundred grand.
We decided to have a blow-out before we left and invited Terry and Ebony over to get high and drunk and have lots of sex. The party started with dinner at a five star restaurant in Tucson which cost us over four thousand dollars. We went back to my place and the party continued at my bar in a room I had added near the pool.
I broke out some toot and champagne, and then we got in the hot tub. Terry brought up the subject of my retirement in Mexico with Tara and suggested he and Ebony do the same so she would not be lonely. I explained to them the deal that Tara and I had, and I looked at Terry and Ebony and asked them if they would be okay with that. Terry said he wanted to make the same deal with Ebony and take her there, too, at least for a year or two. They were okay with it, so we decided to continue our celebration. It wasn’t like we hadn’t all had sex with each other before, so I pulled Ebony over to me and started to kiss her and started to play with her ample tits and Terry did the same with Tara. We spent the night till mid morning between the hot tub and the bed. Somewhere in between, Terry took Tara into one of the guest rooms. My favorite was placing one girl at a time in an overstuffed chair and kneeling in front of her open legs and making her come several times.
Maybe it was the thought of what I was about to do, maybe it was being with Ebony, maybe it was the cocaine, but whatever it was I was hot all night long. I was like a bull in a vagina shop.
CHAPTER 10
Over the next week I got things ready for the trip and gave the girls several thousand to go shopping for Mexico. The day finally came, and Terry came to see us off and told us he would be down in three or four weeks.
We drove to Lukeville Crossing and went on to Rocky Point, Puerto Penesco, and found a two bedroom condo on the fifth floor that was furnished and then went out and bought all new furniture for it. It had a balcony that overlooked the beach and underground parking for two cars. By the time a couple of weeks had passed, we had met a lot of people that lived there also, including a man who owned three bars in Tombstone. Tombstone was known as “the town that was too tough to die.” We also met a retired ai
rline owner (Fudpucker Airline) along with several other retired people. Most everyone liked us, especially the men, because Tara and Ebony were so good looking. The men were jealous of the fact that I slept with both of them. Some of the women were jealous, also, but a few of the women hated us, of course; “Que sera sera”
I started getting serious about taking apart the Cartel and its workers. After staking them out for a few weeks, I had decided to rob and then kill them. Killing them would be easy because they had moved their headquarters to a three story building in mid block that you got to through a Pharmacia. I thought this was really cool. It was just three quarters of a mile from my balcony which was a straight shot with my binoculars and my M 1 Grand.
First I had to set up a plan to rob them. I watched them every day for a week through my binoculars which were set up on a tripod. I saw no bagmen and no money, so I knew the money must be delivered at night. For two nights, I sat behind a dumpster in rags, and still did not see any bag men. The smell was so bad from the garbage I just couldn’t make myself go back, so I went back to watching from my condo.
The next day I set up the Grand with a silencer and put the cross hairs on one of the guards at the front door. There was no wind to speak of, but I had to compensate for the drop. My first shot was a little to the left but off the target, and I hit him in the stomach. He exploded and went down. The second shot was even higher by a click on the scope and I hit him in the chest, which exploded and went all over the Pharmacia. I took down the table, gun and binoculars and stashed them.
Smugglers 2 The Sheriff: Sex, Meth & Murder; The Cartel from Tucson to the Florida Keys Page 4