Read Online Standoff: A Vin Cooper Novel by David Rollins - Free Book Online
Authors: David Rollins
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Paso.”
The way he said it, sucking something from between his teeth, made it sound like El Paso wasn’t an option for drug dealers, not when ol’ Commander Matheson was on the job.
“What time did the sun rise this morning?” Gomez inquired.
“Six twenty-one,” Cruz answered. “According to our survivor, the killers were gone by then. That was roughly six hours ago. So if you’re right, the shipment will be more than halfway to Dallas, but not too much more.”
Gomez was pulling out his cell. “If they’re on I-20, they’ll have come through Odessa. Maybe we can stop ’em this side of Abilene. But they also could’ve taken the long way round, I-10 through San Antonio,” he said, thinking it through on the go. “DPS can cover both routes.”
Foote acknowledged the help and also fired up her cell, as did Matheson who turned his back on us, I assumed to play a level or two of Angry Birds in private. Cruz consulted his notes. I twiddled my thumbs.
Gomez finished his call as a cab drove slowly up to the hospital entrance drop-off. Our transport had arrived. All twiddled out, I gestured to the Chief that the Ranger and I were leaving. Foote excused herself to whoever was on the other end of the line and pressed the cell against her chest. “Thanks for your help. You both staying in town?”
I told her that we were. She asked for our cards and told us she’d be in touch.
A few minutes later we were in the cab, heading for our motel, an old-style two-star cinder block sandwiched between the highway access road and the railroad tracks, complete with stained carpet and walls no thicker than the beige-colored wallpaper covering them. I needed to take a shower, or maybe a dip in the outdoor swimming pool.
“You gonna report in?” Gomez asked when we got out of the cab.
“Yeah, gimme forty minutes.”
“I’ll call Thrifty, break the good news to ’em and pick us up another jeep.”
I took that shower, the outdoor pool being a little bigger than a bathtub, but then I thought that maybe I’d made the wrong choice when the drain beneath my feet in the shower recess exhaled something that made me think of what was rising off the asphalt out at Horizon. I gave the cold tap a few extra turns but the water pressure couldn’t wash away thoughts of the slaughtered family left on the ramp, or any of the many other victims unfortunate enough to be early starters out there, murdered so that some rich college kid in LA, Frisco, New York or wherever could get his hands on a gram of blow and maybe get lucky at a party with some drug slut in the john. I wasn’t a fan of Class A drugs, and I didn’t care too much either for the people who thought taking them did no harm. The sight I caught of Gail Sorwick when a corner of the blanket lifted was going to stay with me for some time. What a way to go, to see your children and your husband gunned down in front of your eyes while the killer made you swallow his poison. She’d tried to balance the account with her incisors, but it was a final small act of defiance. The animal killed her and then mutilated her. If I ever got my hands on the fuck who did that, I made a silent promise to Gail Sorwick that I would make him pay.
I eventually got out, toweled off and dressed – dark-blue T-shirt, jeans and all-terrain boots. My cell rang, the tone telling me that I’d missed a call. The screen informed me that it was Arlen, so I rang him back.
“Vin, how was it?”
“Heavy.”
“I know. It’s all over the news. Turn on your TV.”
“It’s locked on the porn channel,” I said.
“So you’ll be staying in tonight?”
“I’ve never seen anything like this down here.”
“I know,” he said. “The networks have all got their birds in the sky. Tweets leaked the story after some of the relatives were informed. The Mexicans are being blamed. Some think it’s the violence from Juárez spilling across the border. It’s virtually a failed state over there. Could
The way he said it, sucking something from between his teeth, made it sound like El Paso wasn’t an option for drug dealers, not when ol’ Commander Matheson was on the job.
“What time did the sun rise this morning?” Gomez inquired.
“Six twenty-one,” Cruz answered. “According to our survivor, the killers were gone by then. That was roughly six hours ago. So if you’re right, the shipment will be more than halfway to Dallas, but not too much more.”
Gomez was pulling out his cell. “If they’re on I-20, they’ll have come through Odessa. Maybe we can stop ’em this side of Abilene. But they also could’ve taken the long way round, I-10 through San Antonio,” he said, thinking it through on the go. “DPS can cover both routes.”
Foote acknowledged the help and also fired up her cell, as did Matheson who turned his back on us, I assumed to play a level or two of Angry Birds in private. Cruz consulted his notes. I twiddled my thumbs.
Gomez finished his call as a cab drove slowly up to the hospital entrance drop-off. Our transport had arrived. All twiddled out, I gestured to the Chief that the Ranger and I were leaving. Foote excused herself to whoever was on the other end of the line and pressed the cell against her chest. “Thanks for your help. You both staying in town?”
I told her that we were. She asked for our cards and told us she’d be in touch.
A few minutes later we were in the cab, heading for our motel, an old-style two-star cinder block sandwiched between the highway access road and the railroad tracks, complete with stained carpet and walls no thicker than the beige-colored wallpaper covering them. I needed to take a shower, or maybe a dip in the outdoor swimming pool.
“You gonna report in?” Gomez asked when we got out of the cab.
“Yeah, gimme forty minutes.”
“I’ll call Thrifty, break the good news to ’em and pick us up another jeep.”
I took that shower, the outdoor pool being a little bigger than a bathtub, but then I thought that maybe I’d made the wrong choice when the drain beneath my feet in the shower recess exhaled something that made me think of what was rising off the asphalt out at Horizon. I gave the cold tap a few extra turns but the water pressure couldn’t wash away thoughts of the slaughtered family left on the ramp, or any of the many other victims unfortunate enough to be early starters out there, murdered so that some rich college kid in LA, Frisco, New York or wherever could get his hands on a gram of blow and maybe get lucky at a party with some drug slut in the john. I wasn’t a fan of Class A drugs, and I didn’t care too much either for the people who thought taking them did no harm. The sight I caught of Gail Sorwick when a corner of the blanket lifted was going to stay with me for some time. What a way to go, to see your children and your husband gunned down in front of your eyes while the killer made you swallow his poison. She’d tried to balance the account with her incisors, but it was a final small act of defiance. The animal killed her and then mutilated her. If I ever got my hands on the fuck who did that, I made a silent promise to Gail Sorwick that I would make him pay.
I eventually got out, toweled off and dressed – dark-blue T-shirt, jeans and all-terrain boots. My cell rang, the tone telling me that I’d missed a call. The screen informed me that it was Arlen, so I rang him back.
“Vin, how was it?”
“Heavy.”
“I know. It’s all over the news. Turn on your TV.”
“It’s locked on the porn channel,” I said.
“So you’ll be staying in tonight?”
“I’ve never seen anything like this down here.”
“I know,” he said. “The networks have all got their birds in the sky. Tweets leaked the story after some of the relatives were informed. The Mexicans are being blamed. Some think it’s the violence from Juárez spilling across the border. It’s virtually a failed state over there. Could
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