Read Online The Renegades by T. Jefferson Parker - Free Book Online
Authors: T. Jefferson Parker
Tags: Charlie Hood
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Herredia. There are plenty of them here in Mexico. You can load these cards in different currencies now—it’s a new thing. So this one is loaded with fifty thousand pesos. The new third-pound Angus Thunder is good, if you haven’t tried it yet.
“I step forward and waggle the gift card and set it on top of one of the reel boxes.
—Don’t tell me you have one of these, too, I joke.
“So Herredia holds the huge pistol on my chest, and pulls the trigger. The action of the Desert Eagle is tremendously loud, and I hear every machined part click and clunk into place until the hammer drives the firing pin into the empty cylinder. Terry hits the deck and the old man points the shotgun at him, cackling. Herredia is smiling, so I smile back.
—No, I don’t own one of those, he says.
—And that’s not all, I say.
“I help Terry up and feel the trembling in his hand. I ask him to wheel the suitcases over and put them on the big desk. He rolls them over and has trouble getting the retractable handles back down. He’s beyond nervous now; he’s just plain scared. When he gets them on the desk in front of Herredia he unzips them and folds open the tops. Herredia looks into them, then back up at Terry, then at me.
—We recovered this two days ago at a crime scene near Lancaster, I tell him. We arrested the man who killed your friends. He was armed. There was a struggle, which came out in our favor. But it didn’t seem right that your hard-earned money should sit in a property room in Los Angeles, so we brought it back to you. It’s all there, except for seventy-two hundred dollars. Two pounds of your five-dollar bills were found in the killer’s vehicle and therefore booked as evidence. Another pound was left behind in the luggage to form an evidentiary link from the suspect to the couriers. Not one dollar more has been lost. We weighed it. Twice. There are three hundred and forty-seven thousand, eight hundred dollars.
“So, Herredia sits back and watches me from behind that heavy brow. I turn to see the old man puffing on a cigar, the shotgun across his lap.
—What do you want? asks Herredia.
—We want to be your couriers, sir, I tell him. We want to make this drive every Friday night, and deliver your money to you. We’ve got our own vehicles and guns, uniforms and badges, and our contacts, as necessary. We are American law enforcement officers in good standing. All we ask is to be treated with respect and to be paid four and a half points. I suspect that’s a point and a half higher than your former employees made, but they were obviously not competent. Look how well they protected what belongs to you. We, as you see, are extremely competent. We’re worth the extra pay, for punctuality, dependability and the security of having your assets handled by sworn law enforcement professionals.
—You murdered them and took my money.
—We arrested the murderer and he’ll be convicted in a court of law.
“Herredia nods. I note a thin shaving of white around El Tigre’s big black irises. I wonder what it means. He raises his right hand and points at us, then circles the finger in the air.
“We turn clockwise, in the direction of Herredia’s finger. I listen for the sound of the Desert Eagle being lifted and aimed, and know that if I hear it, it will be the last sound I’ll ever hear. I keep turning—walls, windows, the old man with the stub of the cigar in his mouth and both hands on the shotgun. When I come full circle I meet El Tigre’s eyes again and I see something light and new in them.
—I will pay you four points, says Herredia. You will deal only with Avalos in Los Angeles. I will calculate the points and pay you here, in Mexico. Avalos will always know exactly what you have when you leave L.A. If you are ever short or late, your lives are over. If you bring someone else into my world, your lives are over. If you ever speak my name to anyone but Avalos, your lives are over.
“I take a deep
“I step forward and waggle the gift card and set it on top of one of the reel boxes.
—Don’t tell me you have one of these, too, I joke.
“So Herredia holds the huge pistol on my chest, and pulls the trigger. The action of the Desert Eagle is tremendously loud, and I hear every machined part click and clunk into place until the hammer drives the firing pin into the empty cylinder. Terry hits the deck and the old man points the shotgun at him, cackling. Herredia is smiling, so I smile back.
—No, I don’t own one of those, he says.
—And that’s not all, I say.
“I help Terry up and feel the trembling in his hand. I ask him to wheel the suitcases over and put them on the big desk. He rolls them over and has trouble getting the retractable handles back down. He’s beyond nervous now; he’s just plain scared. When he gets them on the desk in front of Herredia he unzips them and folds open the tops. Herredia looks into them, then back up at Terry, then at me.
—We recovered this two days ago at a crime scene near Lancaster, I tell him. We arrested the man who killed your friends. He was armed. There was a struggle, which came out in our favor. But it didn’t seem right that your hard-earned money should sit in a property room in Los Angeles, so we brought it back to you. It’s all there, except for seventy-two hundred dollars. Two pounds of your five-dollar bills were found in the killer’s vehicle and therefore booked as evidence. Another pound was left behind in the luggage to form an evidentiary link from the suspect to the couriers. Not one dollar more has been lost. We weighed it. Twice. There are three hundred and forty-seven thousand, eight hundred dollars.
“So, Herredia sits back and watches me from behind that heavy brow. I turn to see the old man puffing on a cigar, the shotgun across his lap.
—What do you want? asks Herredia.
—We want to be your couriers, sir, I tell him. We want to make this drive every Friday night, and deliver your money to you. We’ve got our own vehicles and guns, uniforms and badges, and our contacts, as necessary. We are American law enforcement officers in good standing. All we ask is to be treated with respect and to be paid four and a half points. I suspect that’s a point and a half higher than your former employees made, but they were obviously not competent. Look how well they protected what belongs to you. We, as you see, are extremely competent. We’re worth the extra pay, for punctuality, dependability and the security of having your assets handled by sworn law enforcement professionals.
—You murdered them and took my money.
—We arrested the murderer and he’ll be convicted in a court of law.
“Herredia nods. I note a thin shaving of white around El Tigre’s big black irises. I wonder what it means. He raises his right hand and points at us, then circles the finger in the air.
“We turn clockwise, in the direction of Herredia’s finger. I listen for the sound of the Desert Eagle being lifted and aimed, and know that if I hear it, it will be the last sound I’ll ever hear. I keep turning—walls, windows, the old man with the stub of the cigar in his mouth and both hands on the shotgun. When I come full circle I meet El Tigre’s eyes again and I see something light and new in them.
—I will pay you four points, says Herredia. You will deal only with Avalos in Los Angeles. I will calculate the points and pay you here, in Mexico. Avalos will always know exactly what you have when you leave L.A. If you are ever short or late, your lives are over. If you bring someone else into my world, your lives are over. If you ever speak my name to anyone but Avalos, your lives are over.
“I take a deep
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