Tijuana Nights (The Nights Series Book 1) (25 page)

Another job, already. I nodded slowly. "Does Chase know?" I looked towards the hallway. Chase had gone for a shower as soon as we got in. He had suggested that I join him, but I still felt a little odd about jumping in the shower with him, we’d barely hit second base.

"I'll text him about it once I spot Osvaldo."

I slapped my hands on my knees. "So I guess this means I need to go get ready, yeah? When are we leaving?"

"You're fine as you are, Mack. We'll leave once we're ready. I need you to come and help me down in the artillery room though."

It was a statement rather than a question. I stood and followed him to the hatch of the artillery room, then descended the spiral stairs. It was dark and cool down there, and to be quite frank, a relief from the constant Mexican heat.

River picked up two black bags, and hefted them up onto the steel table. "Go through those, and tell me what ones you like."

I hesitated before peering in. They were loaded with hand guns. I almost groaned, but forced myself to stop. River obviously needed my help with this job, or else he wouldn't be making me do this. I started pulling out the guns slowly, handling them, and then placing them carefully down on the table. I pulled out two small silver versions of Chase's Glocks, and gripped them in my hands. They actually felt quite comfortable. I looked at the writing etched into the sides of them: Smith & Wesson.

River looked up at me right at that moment. "You like those?"

I shrugged, and gave him a small nod.

He gave me an approving look. "Good choice. Small, light, can hold a cartridge." He reached over and took one from me. "And these ones even have a laser sight so it's easier to see where you're aiming." He turned the laser on, and pointed it around the room for me to see.

He handed back the gun. "Let me see if I can find the cartridges for those guns, and then they're all yours."

He was giving me guns? "To keep?"

River gave me a small smile. "Yes, to keep. You need to have your weapon of choice. I think you should probably be carrying at all times from now on. Especially since you’ve now met Alicio Mendoza."

I felt sick just at the mention of his name. "So are you going to give me any gun training with these?” I turned the guns over in my hands, eying them up.

River grinned. “Yes. Now, actually. I don’t want you being unprepared. You may have shot a gun before, but a little training will go a long way.”

I bit my lip, and looked up at him. He seemed to have faith that I could actually use these. “So, where are we going to train then?”

River lifted up two long black tubes from the table, and screwed them into each of the weapons. “Out in the garden. I don’t have a gun range here, but with these silencers on, we’ll be fine just as long as you can aim straight.”

I cringed. That was something I could not guarantee.

* * *

On the way back to the house an hour later, River stopped and turned to me. “You should probably start watching Carmen if you can." He gave me a tired smile. "Get Gabe to track her accounts for you and you'll know where she's likely to go."

"Is that how you normally do it?"

River smiled. "It’s one option. Usually the first anyway." He shrugged. "Electronic tracking is the easiest way. Everybody leaves digital footprints."

"Except me, at the moment." I laughed. "Well ... not since I’ve been here with you guys, anyway."

River gave me a knowing smile. "You would be surprised. Didn't you transfer a heap of money this morning to your Ex? Someone would be able to track that you're in Mexico from that transaction."

I didn't want to know. It gave me the creeps that someone could track me like that. But I did kind of want to know what Luke was up to. I wondered if I should have a look at that file that Chase was talking about earlier to see if I could glean any new information.

We walked back into the house and down to the artillery room, putting our guns down on the bench. I watched as River reloaded cartridges and pottered about. The more I thought about Luke… the more I realised that I just didn’t care anymore. He had his money, and hopefully I would never hear from him again.

River started zipping up the gun bag, and I jumped off the stool I was perched on. He handed me a small box along with both my new guns. I looked down at the box with confusion. Damn it was heavy. "What's this?"

River winked at me. "Bullets."

Oh what a dumbass, I smiled. That was kinda obvious.

"Come on," River said as he started to climb the stairs. "Let's get going."

* * *

When River stopped the car I found we were back in the warehousing district where we had picked him up from the night we had to go and rescue Gabe.

"The warehouse is five hundred metres in that direction." River pointed, and both Chase and I looked. There were a number of cars parked along the road, and a bunch of warehouses that all looked the same.

"I'll take your word for it." Chase grinned. He turned to look at me sitting in the backseat of the car. "Stick close to us. This could get messy."

Once again I felt myself tense with anxiety, and I nodded mutely, hoping that he couldn't read my mind. They had already told me that there would probably be a few people there.

I wasn't sure that a gunfight was something I really wanted to get involved in, but I guess I had to know how to handle myself in one. Not that assassination was a career option for me, but I thought a new skill in survival probably wouldn't hurt, well, unless it killed me.

I followed River and Chase down the road. They both had slim line backpacks on, fully loaded with further ammunition. River had found a double gun halter for me, and now I had two guns nestled in the small of my back, hidden beneath my jacket. It was too damn hot to be wearing a jacket, but I sucked it up. This would all be over soon, one way or another. This was nuts though. I was supposed to be either running from Carmen, or killing her, but not any of this crap.

I wanted a drink, and not just water. A cold margarita would have gone down nicely at that point. That was what I was going to do once we got back to River's. Have a drink, put my feet up, and imagine that I was anywhere but here.

We reached a fully fenced area, and I saw a two storied warehouse to my right. There were a few cars parked here, but not as many as I imagined. One car stuck out like dog's balls to me though. A sleek, black Maserati. I had seen that car before.

River put his hand on my arm firmly. "Carmen's here."

My heart actually stalled. As I looked at the Maserati, memories flooded me. It was the same car that was parked outside Javier's apartment the night Carmen just about shot me. "Fuck," I whispered, giving both River and Chase a panicked look. I shook my head. "I'm not ready."

River shook his head at me. "You have to be. It's either your life or hers. That's all you have to remember."

"Right, mine or hers." I pursed my lips together. This whole situation wasn't exactly ideal. Now I really needed a drink. Every instinct inside me screamed to turn back and run as fast and as far away as I could.

River and Chase walked through the open gates, and down the side of the building. My eyes traced the patterns in the corrugated iron exterior of the building, suddenly fascinated by all the rusted patches. I would have thought that the Cartel had more than enough money to fix the place up. It looked like a slum warehouse rather than a centre of operations for drug exports. There was an open door, and a pallet that acted as a step up to it.

The alley smelt like urine, and hot rubber. I assumed that this was a regular ablution area for the workers to pee into the long grass that lined the fence. "Dirty bloody Mexicans," I muttered. Both Chase and River were watching through the doorway, and I seemed to just be an extra pair of hands. I could hear a few voices inside, but not many.

When I turned my attention back to the warehouse, I saw that they had slipped inside, and I instantly moved to follow them. Large trucks were inside. I felt small in comparison to them.

"This is the large shipment I told you about," River said quietly to Chase. "They've been bringing it all up from Columbia, moulding it, and exporting from here."

"Moulding it?" I asked in a harsh whisper. "Moulding what exactly?"

"Cocaine," Chase muttered. The look he gave me told me to shut up and pay attention. I looked around and saw the most beautiful white sculptures sitting on pallets at the back of each truck. They were works of art.

The historian inside me yearned to just roam free and examine them from every angle, but now was most definitely not the time. I heard a door slam, and lifted my eyes to the upper offices overlooking the warehouse. I sharply inhaled in as I recognised Carmen walking down the steps speaking in rapid Spanish to two large men trailing behind her. She was gesturing like she was pissed about something.

She was too far away for me to even begin to try and understand a word. Chase pushed me against the truck out of sight with him and River, and we waited for them to pass.

A part of me didn't want her to leave. I think I was secretly hoping that either River or Chase would take her out, but they didn't. No, they were still leaving that up to me. Bless, I thought with sarcasm.

We started to move through the warehouse, stopping every now and then when we heard voices. As I got near to one of the sculptures, I stopped to take a closer look. It was remarkable. Before me stood a nude woman with curls falling over her face. I wouldn't have minded her standing in my garden at home. Where on earth did they get pieces like this? Pristine white, smooth, and because of this I wondered if they were fakes. So far on my travels in Mexico, I had discovered that there were a lot of very good fakes of well-known brands in this region. I wondered if this was just another example.

"It’s cocaine," River whispered as he stood right behind me.

I turned to him, hand paused in mid-reach to touch the piece and run my fingers over the smooth stone surface of her clasped fingers. "What is?"

"This artwork. It's been moulded out of cocaine. They'll break it down once they cross the border."

My mouth dropped open. "This?" I pointed to the sculpture.

River gave me a silent nod.

I looked back at it, closer, but there was no way on earth I could tell that it was made out of an illicit drug. It looked like stone.

River tugged my arm, telling me to get a move on. I quietly followed them, but soon found myself getting distracted by another sculpture. Forgetting where I was, I crossed over to it. It was a replica of David. And it was stunning.

As I admired the detail in in, I turned to River seeing that he had stopped to watch me. "Can I have it?" I mouthed at him. Both he and Chase smiled at me.

Then I heard a shout. “Détente!”

I swung around, and saw three men running towards me from the open doors of the warehouse. "Shit," I muttered.

One of them approached me, his face covered in tattoos. He looked damn scary. I wasn't sure what to do. I had the option of pulling a gun on him, but by the looks of the men behind him carrying their AK-47's, it wasn't going to happen.

“Quién eres?”

I shook my head. "English?"

He spat on the ground, and I grimaced. Then after a moment, he leered at me. "I asked who you were." His accent was thick, and he smelt damn awful, sour as though he'd needed a shower for weeks.

Now I was in the shit. I didn't know what name to give him. So I turned on the charm in hopes that it would save my hide. I gave him my biggest smile. "Am I not supposed to be in here?"

He shook his head and leaned closer to me, his liquid brown eyes meeting mine before working their way down my body. I felt like squirming beneath his gaze, but I didn't.

"These sculptures are just so stunning," I commented. “I saw them, and just knew I had to get a closer look."

He gave me an assessing look, and grabbed my arm roughly. "Who are you? A dirty little cop?"

I swallowed, my fear threatening to brim to the surface and show. "No. No I'm not. I'm an art collector."

He narrowed his eyes, and looked closer at me. "An art collector," he mused. I got the distinct impression that he didn't believe me for one second.

Hell, I didn't believe me, but I nodded as convincingly as I could.

He wasn't letting go of my arm. "And how did you get in here?"

I swallowed and hesitated. Again, I didn't know how to answer him. I knew I should have been coming up with some sort of cover story while I’d been stalling, but a part of me was still hoping that he'd let me go. The longer I stood there with him, the less likely I felt that was to happen.

This could turn to shit, very fast. I glanced up at the other men standing there, but they weren't paying us too much attention... well, they were curious, but they didn't think I was a threat. They had even let their guns drop to their sides.

I pointed in the direction of the side door. "Through there."

He instantly clicked his fingers at the men, and they took off. I wondered where the hell River and Chase were at, and why the hell they hadn't helped me out a little already.