Green Ice: A Deadly High (42 page)

Mancini didn’t share the same optimism. He was expecting some kind of blockade to confront them before they left the city. Surely the cops would have quarantined the area in both directions, moving north to south and vice versa. They hadn’t even encountered any more unmanned barriers or warning signs and any law enforcement worth its salt would be restricting all routes in and out of a no-go zone.

The dense mass of dark, gloomy buildings thinned in number as they drove along their selected route. The landscape became increasingly sparse with a few industrial zones on either side of the road rapidly giving way to empty, flat ground. The air smelled fresher and less humid, without the stench of trash and the coppery scent of the blood from mutilated corpses.

“We’re on our way, man. We’re out of here,” Trey chimed, with a slight smile on his face.

Mancini sighed through his nose. Trey’s optimism was refreshing but he was still missing the bigger picture. Even if they still managed to get out of the city without being mauled to death or arrested by the cops, they still had the tricky situation in La Paz to overcome. Mancini assumed that particular situation was going to be far worse than anything they’d encountered so far.

The route took them
onto an intersection to a main road with no road signs indicating which way to go. Trey stopped the Thunderbird and shrugged.

“Which way now, man?”

Mancini glanced left and right. He saw the faint lights from the hub of the city to the left and nothing but darkness to the right. “I guess we should go right,” he said.

Trey nodded and accelerated out onto the highway.

They drove unhindered for less than a mile before they
rounded a bend and saw blue and red flashing beacons in the center of the road up ahead. Trey slowed the Thunderbird and glanced anxiously at Mancini.

“Shit, what the hell do we do now, man?”

Mancini stared straight ahead at the blinking lights, thinking hard. They had to get through the road bock somehow. They couldn’t go back and the cops and law agents surrounding the barricade would undoubtedly be armed to the teeth, so they were also outgunned, ruling out trying to shoot their way through the blockade. Mancini thought of a risky plan and silently prayed it would work. He swiveled around in his seat.

“You do the talking, Leticia,” he said. “Let’s swap seats but hurry. Don’t stop the car, Trey. Keep rolling forward.”
He slid the shotgun, the semi automatic rifle, his handgun and the spare magazines beneath the front seat then stuffed the spare shotgun cartridges, the pepper spray, hand cuffs and the cop’s flashlight into the glove box and slammed it shut. Mancini sincerely hoped the cops wouldn’t search the car.  

“Okay,” Trey sighed, nodding his head but totally unsure what Mancini was up to.

“All right, but I don’t see how I can get us through the road block,” Leticia said.

“Come on, hurry it up,” Mancini grunted.

Mancini scrabbled over the back of the passenger seat and squeezed into the space between Leticia and Jorge. Leticia clambered into the front alongside Trey. Mancini reached down and tightly grabbed Jorge’s injured ankle. Jorge’s eyes widened and he yelled in agony. Mancini lifted Jorge’s leg and rested his ankle on top of the passenger seat.

“For once, I want you to keep whining like a bitch, Jorge,” Mancini growled.

Jorge complied, still whimpering and grimacing in pain.

“Hand me your piece, Trey,” Mancini hissed.

Trey reached around his back and slipped his Heckler and Koch from the back of his waistband then quickly handed the weapon over the top of the seat. Mancini took the handgun and slipped it into the pocket at the back of the seat. He could retrieve the firearm easily but hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.

Trey slowed as he approached the flashing red and blue lights of the law enforcement’s blockade. Mancini leaned forward in his seat so he was close to the side of Leticia’s head.

“Tell them Jorge needs urgent medical attention,” Mancini whispered. “Say that none of us are infected and we fled the city unharmed but Jorge…I don’t know, tell them he jumped out of a building or some shit but make it sound convincing.”

“I’ll try,” Leticia sighed. “But I can’t make any promises.”

Trey gulped but tried to remain calm as he slowed the Thunderbird to a crawl then halted when a bright light flashed through the windshield. Leticia and Trey raised their hands to shield their eyes from the dazzling white light.

A gruff voice boomed from behind the bright light.
“
Alto
!” More instructions in Spanish were commanded from the blockade.

Leticia lifted her arms above her head. “They want us to raise our hands,” she whispered.

Mancini and Trey complied with the cop’s request. Jorge groaned and made a token effort, flapping his hands up either side of his chest. His face screwed up in pain and his head lolled from side to side.

The voice behind the light boomed another set of questions in Spanish. Leticia answered back and Mancini heard her voice crack and tears rolled down her cheeks as she spoke.

Two heavily armed law agents proceeded cautiously towards the Thunderbird, aiming assault rifles into the interior. Both cops wore black combat clothing with blue bullet proof vest over the top of their shirts. They both wore black baseball style caps and had alert, dark eyes, glancing over the inside of the vehicle.

Leticia spoke again. Mancini didn’t know what she was saying but her tone sounded desperate. He didn’t know if she was acting out some sort of scenario or
her anguish was sincere. She turned in her seat, glancing and nodding at Jorge and Mancini in turn. The cop standing on the passenger side spoke to her, this time the tone was less harsh.

Leticia wiped the tears from her cheeks and turned back to Mancini. “He wants us all to step out of the car,” she said.

Trey reached down to the ignition and turned off the engine. Mancini knew they had no choice but to comply. No doubt more armed cops stood behind the blockade, aiming their rifles at the Thunderbird. He couldn’t make an attempt to reach the handgun in the seat pocket or they’d all be wasted in an instant. These law agents were probably twitchy and ready to shoot anybody who they deemed a threat. He also knew if the two cops beside the Thunderbird were going to search the car, they were done for.

Chapter Sixty-Five

Slowly, Mancini, Trey and Leticia exited the Thunderbird and stood with their hands on their head
s. The cop who spoke with Leticia ushered them at gunpoint to a spot a few feet from the passenger side of the car. Jorge groaned and shuffled across the seat. He winced and moaned as he tried to haul himself out of the car.

The cop spoke to him and Jorge rumbled some form of reply in Spanish.
Jorge hobbled beside the other three and stood at the end of the line with a pained expression on his face. The second cop, who hadn’t yet spoken took a cursory glance inside the vehicle. Mancini bit his bottom lip in anguish, hoping the cop wouldn’t spot the hidden weapons. He knew the agents were more looking for hidden, infected people rather than firearms but the stolen shotgun and assault rifle would raise some serious questions. 

The first cop spoke again to Leticia and she nodded. Mancini and Trey had no idea what was going on. The Spanish dialect was too fast and too direct for Trey to understand.
They shared a concerned glance as the cop looked over the Thunderbird interior. The first cop spoke again and the second law agent turned away from the car and pointed his rifle at the four lined up people on the road side.

“What’s he doing?” Trey hissed.

“Keep quiet,” Jorge grunted, almost inaudibly.

The first cop slung his rifle over his shoulder and patted Leticia down, lifting her shirt then checking her arms and legs. Trey glanced at Mancini with a concerned expression on his face. The cop grunted as if he was satisfied then moved on to frisk Mancini. He searched
through his pockets and lifted his shirt. He made the same gratified grunting noise and moved along the line to search Trey. The cop grunted again when he was done and moved on to Jorge at the end of the line. He paid particular attention to Jorge’s injured ankle and made him remove his shoe and sock. The cop shone his flashlight over the swollen, purple bruising surrounding Jorge’s lower leg. Jorge grimaced and emitted a series of strange groaning noises as the cop examined his injury.

The first cop performing the searches glanced up at the second
lawman, nodded his head and barked some kind of order. The second cop verbally responded for the first time then spoke into his radio mic. The first cop spoke again to Leticia and she made a tearful reply. She lowered her hands and made her way back to the passenger seat of the Thunderbird. Jorge grunted as he crouched to retrieve his discarded shoe and sock.

The bright white light behind the blockade blinked out and the two armed cops backed away towards the red and blue flashing lights.

“Will somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?” Trey whispered, lowering his arms by his side.

“They are letting us go,” Jorge muttered
, in a tone that sounded like he was half laughing and half groaning. “Your girlfriend did an excellent job. She deserves an Oscar Award for her act. Now, help me get back in the damn car, will you? That big ape had hands like bananas.”

Trey nodded and ducked his head beneath Jorge’s left arm, allowing him to take his weight. Jorge hobbled back to the Thunderbird and moaned as he clambered into the backseat. Trey hopped back into the driver’s seat and Mancini jumped into the rear next to Jorge.

The red and blue flashing lights shifted left and right as the three cop cars moved aside and the red and white barriers parted, hauled aside by a bunch of burly law agents. Trey gunned the Thunderbird engine and rolled the car forward. Nobody spoke inside the car until they were clear of the blockade, with nothing but an empty dark road ahead and clear flat ground on each side.

“What the hell did you tell the
cops?” Trey asked, turning his head to Leticia.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I said that Jorge and I were
teachers at that school we went by, back in the city. I said Jorge sustained his injury while trying to get all the children to safety. I told them you and Mancini were Americans on vacation and you were taking us to the hospital to take a look at Jorge’s leg. They agreed to let us through the blockade if we weren’t infected, that’s why they searched us.”

“And they bought that crock of shit?” Trey whooped.
“Ah, my god. Way to go, girl.” He laughed and rubbed Leticia’s shoulder. “Jorge was right, that was some awesome acting you pulled off back there.”

Leticia narrowed her eyes and flashed Trey an admonishing
glare. “That cop who searched us. He has a son at the school and asked me if he was safe. He even said his son’s name –
Pepe Gomez
. I said yes, he was safe. I said we helped save that little boy. That’s the only reason they let us go. I lied to the police, Trey. I am not proud of what I have done. I only made up the story so we can continue on our journey and save many people from this terrible disease.”

“Yeah, right,” Trey agreed, nodding his head. “Telling lies is definitely bad, oh, yeah, absolutely.”
The grin slipped from his face and he turned back to the road ahead. 

Mancini breathed out a relieved sigh as he slumped back in his seat. He was thankful for Leticia’s efforts and glad she was with them
, otherwise they’d never have gotten through the road block. A woman in a tearful state and the mention of saved children would soften the hardest of hearts. Now, he could concentrate solely on the job at hand. Locating Luiz and repossessing the remainder of the green ice stash.

Trey continued driving the Thunderbird through the night, along the virtually deserted highway. Mancini glanced at the clock on the dash and saw the time was a little after three a.m. He calculated they would reach La Paz at dawn, which was comparatively better than trying to find their way in darkness. Mancini had never been to La Paz but he knew it was some kind of vacation destination with an abundance of palatial coastal properties. A wealthy cartel guy like Logrono would probably own a big mansion on the outskirts of the city and more than likely along the coast someplace. He’d have top notch security in place, such as armed guards, maybe dogs,
high walls and secure gates around the property and an array of security devices and possibly booby traps.

Jorge and
Letica both slept in their seats, although Jorge awoke every few minutes due to fresh surges of pain in his ankle. Mancini sunk back in his seat and lit a cigarette.

“Are you okay to keep driving, Trey?” he asked.

Trey turned his head slightly. “U-huh,” he said, nodding. “I’m really pumped after that situation back in the city, man. The adrenalin rush is still with me. I keep replaying what happened back at that warehouse over and over in my head, man. It would make a great movie one day.”

Mancini allowed himself a slight laugh. “Go for it. You should try making that movie as a career change from being a badass.”