Deadly Journey

by Declan Conner

  ‘I won’t. Listen, Angelica, when do you hope to have this meeting with the authorities?’

  ‘Tomorrow afternoon, hopefully. I’m just waiting to hear back from the Americans.’

  I stood and watched them leave the room and the guards closed the door. There was still a fog behind my eyes, to remind me of my grief, but at least I now had hope of getting out of there. The guard returned and escorted me to the pay phone. I dialled the number from memory.

  ‘Jeff Clayton, Homicide.’

  I waited.

  ‘Who’s calling?’

  ‘Jeff, don’t hang up. It’s Kurt Rawlings.’

  There was maybe a minute of silence. I guessed that I was the last person he would expect to hear from.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I understand you’re working the gangland massacre at the trailer fire near the border from a few weeks back?’

  ‘Why, was it you? I could do with a confession to sign it off. The case is going nowhere.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t me, give me a rest. I don’t need anything more pinned on my chest. Let me run something by you. It may interest you. Then I need you to look up the name and phone number of a lawyer.’

  ‘Go on. I’m listening.’

  Chapter 54

  Revelation

  Surfer danced around me in the yard like a Yorkshire terrier, snapping excitedly at my heels with questions and scenarios. They all seemed to centre around setting up a drug trafficking empire on the outside. I ignored him all the way to the cell.

  ‘Surfer, take a hike.’

  I climbed onto my bunk, pulled some Blue-Tack from the wall and stuck my court papers next to the paper-chain figures.

  Surfer’s face peered over the bunk. ‘Listen, If you already have someone on the outside, at least say you’ll put my name forward. I’ve got to find some way of paying my debt to MS-13.’

  There was no way I could shake him loose. His persistence in pursuing the matter stuck in my craw. ‘Try getting a job.’

  ‘Come on, man. Don’t be so self-centred.’

  ‘Okay, okay, write down a contact number, for if you get out. I’ll see what I can do. No promises, mind you. But let me ask you one thing – hypothetically speaking. Say someone paid off your debt and gave you a job. Would you take it and turn your back on trafficking?’

  ‘Depends. If it paid me enough money to look after my girlfriend and daughter, I guess I’d try it – hypothetically speaking, you understand. It ain’t going to happen, though, is it? I didn’t have any debt when I came out the army and no one would give me a chance. I’ve always dreamed of opening a surfboard business, but that takes money.’

  ‘Where did you serve?’

  ‘Afghanistan, mostly. Lost a lot of good buddies over there.’

  ‘Thanks for your service. Sorry about your friends.’

  Surfer took a step back. ‘No one’s ever said that to me before. Most people don’t give a shit. But, yeah, thanks. Good friends and loyalty are hard come by.’

  ‘No joke, I meant it.’

  ‘Say, what are the papers for?’

  ‘Divorce documents.’

  ‘Oh, man, that’s tough. Sorry. I’ll leave you be. Listen, don’t go doing anything stupid.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’

  Surfer disappeared and settled on his bunk. I lifted the corner of the mattress and retrieved the second copier sheet Skunk had given me. A little folding and tearing at the paper and I unravelled my handiwork, depicting Leandra and me, and then stuck it to the wall. Surfer was right, good friends and loyalty are hard to come by. I had been disloyal in my mind and the affection I’d displayed toward Leandra. But not so disloyal that I’d acted upon it while ever I hoped to get home and to put things right with Mary. Maybe it was the effect of the Stockholm syndrome on both our parts in captivity. Whatever, my feelings for Leandra were real.

  Time, I thought, was a strange beast. On the outside, there was so little time to cram in all the things that I wanted or needed to do. Time was like a drug; we’re always craving more. The mundane tasks of life soak up every second, until you look back and wonder where all those precious moments went. Or the things you might have squeezed into your life, if only you’d made better use of your time.

  Here on the inside, time was the enemy. There was so much time, you could almost drown in the boredom of it passing – either that or go mad in a hailstorm of thoughts pounding at your brain. It was those ifs, buts and maybes again. If only I’d paid Mary more attention, and maybe taken that promotion things would have turned out different. Perhaps fate would have found a way of steering me back on an even course, instead of facing death on this deadly journey. It was time to accept fate. Whatever life threw my way, I wasn’t prepared to accept the death just yet.

  Skunk walked into the cell, his head bowed, coughing and wheezing as usual.

  ‘How’d the results of your examination go?’ Surfer asked him.

  Skunk sank his backside into his mattress.

  ‘The big C. Two weeks at best. The doctor’s gonna get me onto the ward in a few days.’

  Guilt stabbed me for having disrespected him the other day. ‘Can’t they treat the cancer?’ I asked.

  ‘No, the doctor says it’s too far gone and it’s spread to my lungs.’

  ‘Did the doctor give you anything?’

  ‘No, fuck all, only a damned half-hearted apology.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can get you through the guards to make things easier? You know, cough medicine for your throat or anything?’

  ‘I couldn’t pay you back.’

  ‘Hell, this has nothing to do with money.’

  ‘Some sort of snake oil would be good for the throat, and say some expectorant to ease my breathing.’

  He looked pitiful sitting on his bunk. Maybe Surfer was joking when he said he was a serial killer – who knows. It wasn’t the sort of thing to ask of a fellow inmate. All I could see was that he was a man in need. Whatever he had done, it was up to him to make his peace and not for me to judge him.

  ‘Okay, I’m on it now.’

  Easing off the bunk, I headed for the gate, only to be stopped mid-step by Big Guy and his crew on the stairway.

  ‘Ah, American, you’ve saved me a journey. I need a word.’

  Two of his crew sidestepped me on the stairway and stood behind me. I stood with my back pressed to the wall.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Seems we have word of a rat in our midst.’

  ‘What do you mean by rat? There’s a few cockroaches in here, I’ll give you that.’

  ‘I think you know what I mean, smartass. A certain DEA agent. A sort of runt of the pig’s litter. A rich one at that, I’d say.’

  My Adam’s apple tried to escape through my mouth before a sigh settled it back in position.

  ‘Don’t know who you mean?’

  ‘We’ve only had six Americans join us the past few days, and I figure it could be you. You seem smarter than the rest.’

  ‘Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s not me. Besides, how do you know he isn’t Mexican?’

  He bit his lip at my question. I hoped the notion had penetrated his skull and upped his calculation.

  ‘We’ll see. I will find out when I’m sent a mug shot on visiting day. Whoever it is, they’re going to need protection from El Presidente’s gang in here when they find out who murdered their leader. I reckon five million dollars should do it in money or coke at trade value.’

  ‘I’m sure it would.’

  ‘Think about it. There is an alternative.’ He drew his fingers across his throat and rumbled a laugh. ‘But don’t think about it for too long. The offer won’t be on the anvil forever before the hammer strikes.’

  He shook his head and laughed as he set off walking up the stairway and his other cronies passed me. It seemed everyone wanted of piece of the action I didn’t have. Short of them transferring me out of there, I only had two days until
public visiting before I was probably going to be carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey. At least they didn’t have a name. They would be bound to put the question to all the Americans, but with the amount of comings and goings of Hispanics. With luck, I had seeded doubt to widen his options. All I could hope was that Surfer wouldn’t ask them to put a price on snitching as to who I really was to clear his debt. Then it struck me. My name was written all over the divorce documents stuck above my bed. I hurried to my cell, ripped the divorce documents off the wall and put them in my pocket.

  Chapter 55

  Losing a Friend

  My hands shook as I walked along the gantry, down the stairs and headed for the breakfast line. A cool breeze swirled in the yard. Waiting for breakfast, I thought back to a night locked in the cell and the relief I had felt when the key turned in the lock. My paranoia had subsided, helped by sharing and re-living childhood memories with my cell buddies. It came as a big relief to discover that Skunk was locked up for auto theft and not as a crazed serial killer. At least it made sleeping with both eyes closed a lot easier.

  But this was breakfast time and with the daybreak, the fear had returned. I wasn’t the only one from our American contingent that MS-13 had tried to shake down, but at least Surfer had managed to avoid them. The tension in our group was evident, with all eyes alert, and darting glances in every direction. Outnumbered ten-to-one in the yard, we all stood together in line. Big Guy stood with his cronies to one side, watching, as if hoping for some of our new guys to break ranks so they could cut them loose and hog-tie them.

  ‘Today’s the day,’ Surfer said.

  ‘What day?’

  ‘I should get word if I’m going to be released.’

  ‘Hope you’re not going to be disappointed.’

  ‘Don’t go jinxing it, I want positive vibes only.’

  ‘I thought the court case was yesterday afternoon? Wouldn’t they have known yesterday?’

  ‘Probably, but that’s how things work down here, like I said. The paperwork takes time.’

  Surfer wasn’t the only one hoping for good news. If Angelina’s negotiations had taken place yesterday, I hoped to learn from Leandra at least how the authorities viewed our offer. The anxiety of waiting was like a noose tightening around my throat. Peeling out of the line, with our stale bread and water, it was like circling-the-wagons time.

  Ten o’clock arrived. I waited at the yard entrance. A guard acknowledged me with a nod and opened the gate. The clunk-click of the gate behind me was a welcome relief, the tension draining from my body. When I approached the interview room, Leandra was waiting outside, drumming the fingers of both hands on her knees. She turned her head to greet my smile, but all she returned was a slight curl of her lips.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I’ll tell you inside.’

  She stood and smoothed down her skirt as I shuffled past her and into the room. I guessed the negotiations hadn’t gone according to plan and sat on my chair, nursing a heavy heart. The door closed.

  ‘Angelica was shot last night.’

  My chair scraped on the concrete as I pushed back and gripped the edge of the table. ‘What! Is she dead?’

  ‘No, she’s in the hospital. They’ve removed the bullet and she’ll live.’

  ‘How did it happen? Did they catch anyone?’

  ‘No, they don’t have a suspect, but it happened when she arrived home late last night and caught someone robbing her house. I think they were after Perez’s computer.’

  ‘What makes you think that?’

  ‘Because earlier, her office was broken into and ransacked, but nothing was taken except pen drives, her hard drive, and computer disks.’

  ‘It could be just a coincidence. No one knows we have the computer.’

  ‘The Mexican and American authorities know, or at least they thought she would have the computer. Thank goodness I didn’t give Angelica a direct copy. It would save either of them cutting a deal. Incidentally, neither wanted an arrangement that didn’t involve you pleading guilty and accepting a lengthy prison term.’

  Rattled, I attempted to wrap my thoughts around the implications. ‘I don’t know about the Mexicans, but we wouldn’t shoot some innocent.’

  Leandra raised an eyebrow. ‘Really, are you sure about that? Are you saying your government doesn’t have a dirty tricks department and never uses criminals to do their dirty work for them? I can think of a few names on the list of government-elected officials who would like to get their hands on the computer, both sides of the border.’

  ‘I’m saying – never mind. All this means you could be in danger. Maybe it would be better if you cut me loose.’

  ‘Now you’re being stupid. Besides, we’ve moved out of the apartment and into a motel. Angelica says the authorities were just postulating and they’d need to discuss it higher up the chain.’

  ‘That may be, but I don’t think I’m going to make it past public visiting day in here. MS-13 know all about the allegations against me, they just can’t put a face to the deeds. Visiting day will change all that and then I’m a dead man. That’s especially true when word finds its way to the Perez crew that I killed their leader, thanks to Pedro.’

  ‘When is visiting day?’

  ‘Tomorrow afternoon.’

  Leandra bowed her head and stroked her chin. She raised her head and looked me in the eyes. ‘I could try the warden again, even though Angelica says he’s the type to drag his heels. What about your consul?’

  ‘She’s already tried and so have the FBI. If nothing else, I’ll just have to attack a guard tomorrow when you visit and hope they put me in solitary. I can’t see any other way out.’

  ‘Oh, Kurt. I really don’t know what to suggest.’ Leandra picked up a paper bag she’d brought with her and placed it on the table. ‘Fruit, treats, and shaving stuff.’

  Peering into the bag I imagined was akin to looking at a last feast on death row. I couldn’t help but smile despite the sense of hopelessness. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘It’s the least I could do.’ Leandra bit her bottom lip, deep in thought. ‘Listen, do me a favour, will you? When you shave, leave a goatee beard and moustache.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I think it’ll look good.’ She cocked her head to one side and pouted her bottom lip. ‘Please, just for me.’

  I wasn’t about to argue. At least it would create a different appearance from my mug shot. Leandra fussed with her briefcase. Staring at her, I wished for different circumstances. She glanced my way and raised an eyebrow.

  ‘What?’

  My eyes must have been speaking to her and she blushed.

  ‘I—’

  There was a tap on the door and it opened. Surfer shuffled past the door and glanced toward me. There was no smile aimed my way. Leandra took my hand and gave it a squeeze.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow at ten. Don’t forget, I expect you to have a tidy beard.’

  ‘Will do.’

  Surfer waited, held up at the first gate and I joined him. ‘Good news and bad news,’ he said.

  ‘Go on, enlighten me.’

  ‘The good news is I’m out of here tomorrow morning at ten.’

  ‘So what’s the bad news?’

  Chapter 56

  Confrontation

  Surfer didn’t seem too excited about getting out of prison. I would have been beside myself with joy.

  ‘Go on, what was the bad news?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh – nothing really.’

  His demeanour told a different story.

  The gate opened and we stepped into the yard. Surfer gripped my shoulder. ‘Hang back,’ he said.

  ‘Why what’s wrong?’

  ‘Listen, I know we all stick together as a group, but you have to remember these are all hardened criminals. Now that all our crew knows one of us is DEA, even a bent one, self-preservation comes into the equation. So don’t expect any protection when you’re outed. For now all the new intakes, including me
, are in the picture.’

  ‘So is that the bad news?’ I asked.

  The look in his eyes told me he wanted to tell me more, but his brain didn’t connect with his vocal cords and he stuttered. ‘Ang – Angelina was shot last night. They told me at reception.’

  I guessed his answer was a copout. However, one thing I’d learned was to respect people when they had a mind to hold back. ‘Yeah, her assistant told me. She survived, though.’

  We headed for the stairway and toward our cell. Walking along the gantry, Big Guy and his crew ambled in our direction. Surfer whispered, covering his mouth and feigned a cough. ‘Keep it a secret about me getting out tomorrow.’

  Big Guy blocked our way. With his huge frame there wasn’t room for two abreast, so sidestepping him wasn’t an option. ‘What’s in the bag, American?’

  ‘Fruit.’

  ‘You gonna share it, or do I have to take it from you?’

  I sensed Surfer step back and I glanced over the railing at the fifteen-foot drop. ‘No I’m not sharing and no – you’re not taking any.’

  As soon as the words escaped my lips, I knew I was in trouble and I handed the bag to Surfer. ‘Passing the parcel. That’s brave, American. Sorry – Razor.’

  ‘No, brave is wondering if the guy in front of you is going to toss you over the railing, but going for it anyway. You know what they say. The bigger they are the harder they fall.’

  Big Guy glanced over the railing and laughed. ‘You got balls, I’ll give you that.’

  Every sinew in my body trembled as adrenalin began to flood my system. There was only one target on my mind and that was his good eye. ‘Oh, make no mistake, I have plenty of balls.’

  Big Guy roared with laughter and stood to one side against the railing, signalling his crew to do the same. ‘Good, I’m pleased you have balls, because we have plenty of time in here. It’ll give me pleasure to cut them off and stuff them down your throat when the time comes – Razor.’

  He waved his hand for us to pass. I grabbed the bag from Surfer and we sidled past them.

  ‘Man, that was cool, you learn fast,’ Surfer said as we entered our cell.