you now?”
Hostage Rescue had circled the house. Tommy could see them blend into the landscape. Instinctively, he began to walk toward the place, across the street, but parallel.
“I think we both know where I am, Hector,” Tommy said.
There was a pause. Too long.
Tommy began to jog, not knowing yet why, but getting closer to his cousin.
“Uh, why do you say this?” Hector managed.
“Listen, I don’t hold this against you at all, Hector. I’ve got mad love for you, man. But it’s your system down there which causes the problem.”
Tommy’s heart raced too hard, so he slowed his pace searching for Nick, but not seeing him.
“Which system are you speaking about?” Hector said.
It was the strangest conversation he’d ever had with the guy. Hector never spoke for more than thirty seconds before he asked if they were being recorded or the line was tapped.
“It’s not your fault,” Tommy said, finding Nick and Matt along the side of the house taking cover behind a couple of wide palm trees. “You can’t help it. It’s just you surround yourself with idiots who say ‘yes’ to you all day long and your brain goes soft. It doesn’t mean you’re stupid, it means you’re conditioned to make mistakes. It’s more environmental, than genetic.”
Tommy snapped his fingers to get Nick’s attention, but he was focused on the front of the house. A couple of Hostage Rescue guys were at the front door, swinging a battering ram, ready to attack.
“Why do you speak to me like this, my friend?” Hector acted hurt.
Tommy recalled a signal from his youth. A whistle he would use whenever he and Nick were in trouble and needed to run. He held the phone down against his leg and blew a short warning whistle.
Nick turned and saw him.
“I’m not talking to you, Hector,” Tommy said, returning the phone to his ear. “I’m talking to that piece of shit, Garza. The guy who’s forcing you to make this call. The asshole standing right next to you.”
Tommy waved his arms furiously at his cousin.
Nick swiveled his attention between the front door and Tommy.
Tommy pointed down.
Nick hesitated. The battering ram was in its third swing, the last one before it busted the door. He grabbed Matt by the shoulder and pulled him down to the ground.
The battering ram hit the door.
The explosion lit up the sky.
Garza heard the explosion from Hector’s phone, leaning in and feeling the sense of satisfaction as screams turned into cries, then orders barked out by male voices. Garza nodded, then backed away and told Hector he could turn off his phone. They were in Garza’s office with Victor standing by silently awaiting Garza’s instructions.
Garza pointed to a chair in front of his desk. “Sit down, Hector.”
Hector Gomez tried to act brave as he followed instructions.
Garza paced with his hands behind his back. “Hector, you did the right thing by coming to me with this information. This was smart.”
Hector seemed pleased to be hearing the tone of Garza’s voice.
“Tell me, how did you know I was troubled by this Bracco family?”
“Word gets around, El Carnicero.”
“Of course,” Garza said. “However, I’ve known you a long time, Hector. How come this is the first time you come to visit me with information?” Garza withdrew a folding clip knife from his pocket and extended it to its full length of eight inches.
Hector remained still, his eyes darting back and forth between the knife and Garza. “I was at a party last night out in the desert. There was a lot of tequila flowing. A lot of liquid bravery. People trying to be macho. There was a man who said you had killed some FBI agents. He said you were going to kill some more. The man mentioned the name Bracco.”
“And who was this man?” Garza asked, wiping his knife on his pant leg.
“His name was Philippe.”
“Philippe? Philippe who?”
“I didn’t get his last name. We exchanged first names only.”
On a small table next to Hector sat a bowl of fruit. Garza took an apple from the bowl, tossed it in the air and caught it like a baseball. He took his serrated knife and carved a slice of the apple and placed it in his mouth. Hector’s forehead glistened with moisture.
“So only first names?”
“Yes.”
Garza glanced at Victor who stood between Hector and the door. Victor shrugged, seemingly unsure what to think.
Garza sliced a piece of apple, jabbed it with the point of the knife, then extended his arm to offer Hector the slice. The apple was just inches from Hector’s face and he reached for the slice as if reaching for a rattlesnake’s fangs.
Garza snapped back the knife with a quick pull as Hector grabbed the slice.
“Thank you,” Hector said, cautiously taking a bite of the apple slice.
Garza looked out the window overlooking his wilting flowers. A soldier absently stepped on one of his geraniums. Garza opened the window and screamed, “Puta! Watch where you are walking.”
The soldier searched his path and found the damaged flower. He cowered, mumbling apologies.
Garza returned his attention to his visitor who was taking everything in with anxious eyes.
“Hector, is there something else?”
Hector looked at his hands on his lap. “The Zutons are honing in on my piracy business,” Hector explained. “I used to make five hundred dollars a week, but now I’m forced to pay fifty percent of my profit to them. Some weeks they don’t believe my sales figures and I actually lose money.”
Garza stared.
“It’s getting crazy out there,” Hector said. “I say the wrong thing and I could turn up dead. I was wondering if you were needing some. . uh. . help?”
“You want to be on my payroll?”
“Mr. Garza, you are a very powerful man. It would be a comfort to know I was under your umbrella.”
Garza considered the request. Hector was fairly unreliable and mostly paranoid. For him to be sitting here was either an act of desperation or sheer stupidity.
Garza wiped a hand over his face. “Okay, Hector, let me consider your situation.”
Hector sat there for a moment seemingly uncertain what to do. From behind him, Victor slipped a steel wire around his neck and pulled it taut. Hector grabbed franticly at the wire, his eyes shocked open, his legs pushing upward, getting to his feet to alleviate the pressure. But Victor was too strong. The wire dug into Hector’s skin with such force, a red line appeared where the wire was imbedded into his neck. Hector only fought and kicked for a few seconds before the lack of oxygen had him unconscious.
Hector’s head dropped forward, then his entire body slipped to the floor. Victor kept up the pressure until Garza said, “Enough, he is dead.”
Victor let go of the wire, then checked for a pulse. He looked up at Garza and shook his head.
“Good.” Garza pointed to a couple of towels sitting on the counter. “Now, clean it up quick. I don’t want a big mess in here.”
Chapter 15
Nick took the elevator to the basement of the Homeland Security Office and made his way to the detention cells. He tapped the bandage on his ear to make sure it was still in place while passing the three cells to his right,
