Garza knew some negotiating techniques from the many books he’d read and when he sat down in the opposite recliner, he crossed his legs and kept his mouth shut. According to his books, the first person who broke the silence was the weaker of the two.
But when Sadeem finally spoke, it was with a Mid-Eastern accent that Garza couldn’t quite determine. It was either the accent or those cold vacant eyes which made Garza’s book knowledge seem irrelevant.
“You have quite a reputation, Mr. Garza,” the man said with a sly grin, which passed as his smile.
“Yes, I do,” Garza said.
Sadeem positioned the briefcase onto the coffee table and fell back into his chair. Garza couldn’t help but gaze at the case.
“The shipment will be ready in two days,” the man said. “Will you be ready?”
This was meant to be antagonizing, but somehow it came out as a threat to Garza’s ears.
“Do you question my abilities?” Garza responded.
“You have a tunnel?” Sadeem asked. “Is that how you guarantee the transfer?”
Now Garza was certain this was some test. The man glanced around the room as if searching for a security camera.
“You begin this relationship with an insult?” Garza said. “Is that correct?”
The man’s demeanor changed. He seemed more of a businessman than an interrogator. He reached with both hands and unlatched the briefcase, then opened it up and turned it toward Garza.
The first thought that went through Garza’s mind was, there’s too much there. He’d seen stacks of hundreds which added up to a quarter million or even a half million, but this was way more than expected.
As if Sadeem could read Garza’s mind, he said, “Five million.”
Garza tilted his head. No one overpays by four million dollars unless they want something extra. Something more than expected. Something dangerous.
“Now do you understand why I ask so many questions?” the man said.
“I understand that you want more than we agreed upon.”
“No,” Sadeem said firmly. “We want nothing more than what you said you could provide. Safe passage to the United States.”
The basement was completely still as the two men stared each other down.
Garza rubbed the back of his neck and it came to him. Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner?
“This shipment,” Garza said. “It is not drugs, is it?”
Sadeem shook his head. “It’s the reason I ask whether you are using a tunnel. There are certain. . uh, requirements the shipment needs in order to remain stable. The temperature outside is too hot. This load should not be left outdoors for long periods of time.”
Now Garza understood the payment. “Precisely how dangerous is this shipment?”
“In its current form it is completely harmless. However, should the container be opened, there is no guarantee.”
Garza was ready for another shot of mescal. He was also ready to send this man and his briefcase and his smug attitude on his way. But there were five million reasons why he didn’t. The man seemed to understand this and he became even more comfortable in his recliner.
“Recently, you have invited the interest of some American law enforcement officials,” Sadeem said. “Is that a wise decision?”
Garza could feel his blood pressure rise. He wasn’t used to having his decisions questioned and it didn’t sit well with him. He wondered why the man was so at ease in Garza’s lair, swollen with soldiers geared to protect him.
Garza came to his feet and felt the man’s eyes follow him as he began a slow pace behind the recliner. “You spoke about my reputation,” Garza said. “Did it occur to you that I might have provoked this attention on purpose?”
“No,” Sadeem said. “That hadn’t crossed my mind.”
“Then please allow me to do my job.” Garza pointed to the briefcase. “Obviously, someone thinks very highly of my abilities.”
The man nodded. Garza had made his point. Sadeem was obviously a courier and no more. People of importance had hired him to make the delivery and he appeared to be overstepping his boundaries.
“Okay.” Sadeem stood and slowly made his way to Garza. “I have enough information. You will meet our men precisely when we have agreed. Yes?”
Garza looked at the man’s outstretched hand. One last gesture before he could take custody of his largest payday ever. Deep inside he didn’t trust this man, yet he couldn’t place strict evidence on his suspicions. Over Sadeem’s shoulder sat the open briefcase, the five million taunting him. Garza wondered whether it was designed to be positioned that way on purpose, or whether it was pure greed which had him firmly shaking Sadeem’s hand.
“Yes,” Garza. “We will be ready.”
Chapter 5
The three Border Patrol agents sat across the desk from Nick, side-by-side, with nervous ticks and darting glances between their fellow employees and the Deputy Director who sat in a chair next to the desk facing them. Matt and Stevie stood in the rear of the room. It was just past lunchtime, but without windows, Nick had to rely on the digital clock on the wall to determine the time of day.
“Now listen,” Roger Decker said, leaning forward with his hand on his knees, “no one is accusing any of you of wrongdoing.”
Nick was allowing Decker to save face and discuss the matter with his agents first, but the fact Nick sat behind the desk let them know who was in charge. Decker had no interrogative skills whatsoever. His main detainee spoke a different language so many details ended up lost in translation. Nick felt his phone vibrate and when he pulled it from his pocket he could see the name of the person who had just left a text message. Nicole Hernandez. Ricky’s widow. A spike of bile rushed up his throat. He’d made a personal guarantee to Nicole that Ricky would be fine going undercover. He assured her the FBI would keep close tabs on both agents.
Now he touched the screen on his phone and cringed when he saw the two word message.
“YOU PROMISED!”
Nick’s face flushed as he leaned back and shut his eyes before anyone could detect the episode he was having. He felt the outside of his empty pocket and realized he’d forgotten to take his PTSD meds for the day. He practiced his breathing exercises and gained control of his emotions. As his heart pounded, he gathered his thoughts, trying to grasp just what had gone wrong. Ricky and Jim were supposed to be picking up a client of Antonio Garza’s at the makeshift runway when they were ambushed by Garza’s men. Both FBI agent’s were exceptionally talented and couldn’t possibly have tipped Garza with their actions. Someone had to set them up. And Nick was convinced it was someone in the room with him right then.
When Nick came upright again, the three Border Patrol agents looked as if they were getting sick listening to Decker explain the understandable consequences of dealing with nasty people. The scolding was a bit tame for Nick’s taste.
“Roger,” Nick said. “Why don’t you run out and grab a sandwich.”
Decker seemed annoyed at Nick’s patronization, but he must’ve seen the burning hostility brewing in Nick’s eyes because he retreated with a simple nod and was out the door.
Matt shut the door behind him while Nick gestured to Stevie to get ready. The FBI techie took a flat stick from his duffle bag and began pushing buttons on the stick. The three Border Patrol agents kept an eye on what Stevie was doing until Nick snapped his fingers and said, “Over here. I need your attention on me.”
As they returned their attention to Nick, Stevie waved the flat wand behind the men, slowly working up and down their bodies.
Nick gestured to the desk in front of him. “Please place your cell phones on the desk.”
The three agents did as they were told.
