Welcome to Diablo Vista (Axl Dane #1) (9 page)

CHAPTER TEN

             
The next morning Axl and Rosita drove into town early before Trista and Geoff woke to shower and to see if any new information was available. It wasn't, so they drove back to the campsite to find Trista and Geoff awake by the fire.

              “Any news?” Trista asked.

              “No, not yet. But Mark thinks we'll see Esteban soon,” Axl answered.

              “What are we going to do today? It's going to get hot as hell soon,” Geoff said, taking a bite from a granola bar Axl had supplied him.

              “We can drive around some, the A/C in the Bronco should keep us cool. If we're lucky, we won't have long to wait.”

              Trista kept staring at Axl, and every time he'd turn to her she'd look away. She had heard him and Rosita last night, and from the sound of things Axl was her kind of man. Trista admonished herself mentally for being a slut and tried to think of other things.

              “Can we shower, too?” Trista asked.

              Axl nodded. They packed up the tent and sleeping bags, and then the group finished eating a light breakfast of pre-packaged foods and water before Axl drove them into town.

              “Listen, be quick, we don't have time to dawdle. I'd rather not be here when Esteban arrives,” Axl said.

              They nodded and hurried back behind the bar. Axl and Rosita hadn't spoken about last night yet, and the two were sitting in the truck alone with the elephant in the room.

              “What was last night?” Rosita finally asked.

              “What do you mean?” Axl said, cleaning his sunglasses before putting them back on.

              “I mean, what was it?”

              Axl looked at her, then looked outside. “It is what it is.”

              Rosita nodded.

              Axl was trying to think of something else to add when he saw dust in the background. Someone was driving into town, but the air was so hazy he couldn't tell who or what it was.

              “Shit, we've got to move,” Axl said, starting the car up and pulling behind the bar. He pulled around behind the garage, passing Geoff and Trista, who were exiting the shower on the way. Rosita waved them along, and soon they climbed into the Bronco.

              “What happened?” Trista asked.

              “Someone's in town. You all wait right here,” Axl said, sliding the Colt into his belt and heading for the bar.

              “Do you want the shotgun?” Geoff asked.

              “Nah, that's a little hard to conceal. Hold onto it. You may need it,” Axl said, walking around the garage.

              He crept along the side of the bar and peeked, seeing Esteban's Mercedes. It looked like hell, beaten to pieces and dirty. He slowly walked on into the bar but saw only Mark inside. Even the old Mexicans were gone, and Axl had thought they were a permanent fixture.

              “He's in back,” Mark said, indicating a back room that Axl was familiar with. “Go on in.”

              Axl nodded and walked on into the back room, seeing Esteban seated at the one table, a duffle bag in front of him. Esteban looked worse than the Mercedes. He was wearing a golf shirt and slacks, but both were ripped and dusty. His hair was greasy, and he looked like he hadn't bathed in days.

              “Esteban, so nice to meet you,” Axl said.

              Esteban drew a pistol, but Axl was faster, the Colt in Esteban's face before he could aim at Axl. “Don't. Now put the gun down.”

              Esteban and Axl both used the weird moment to examine one another's pistols. Both were nickel-plated with pearl handles, but where Axl's was a .357 revolver Esteban's was a .45 automatic.

              “Eh, jefe, I have to admire your taste in handguns,” Esteban said, still not lowering his gun.

              “Yeah. Listen, I'm not with anyone that's after you, I'm here to help,” Axl said, still making things up as he went along.

              “What do you mean?” Esteban asked, obviously leery.

              “Your wife hired me to help you out,” Axl said, happy he was doing such a good job of improvisation.

              “My wife?”

              “Yes, Trista is here. I got her, your sister and the pool boy out of the house,” Axl said, wanting to add
after your sorry ass left them there to die.

             
Esteban brightened. “Señor, I owe you more than I can say! If you help me, I can give you money. What is your name?” Esteban slid the gun back into his pants, seeming to buy the story. He wasn't that bright, after all.

              “Axl Dane, P.I.”

              “Axl Dane. I have heard of you. Your name is well known in Diablo Vista. With you on my side, we may make it out of this yet. Tell me, señor, how much do you know of my little predicament?”

              “I hear you screwed the Cartels, the Yakuza, and the Kingsnakes.”

              “Si, si. When I fuck up, I fuck up big, no?”

              “Yeah you could say that. Which Cartel are you working for?
              “Which Cartel?” Esteban asked, confused.

              “Yes, which one?”

              “THE Cartel,” Esteban said, as if Axl was the stupid one.

              Axl wondered if Esteban was screwing with him, but he didn't crack a smile. “You don't know which Cartel you were dealing with, do you?”

              “Señor, there is just the Mexican Drug Cartel, that is all. This isn't the American NFL, where there are many teams,” Esteban said laughing. Axl wondered if Esteban could be the most stupid person he'd ever met. Esteban was making Geoff look like a MENSA member.

              “Okay, anyway, we need to figure out a plan. I guess they locked you down pretty good, huh?” Axl said, trying to figure out the best way to turn Esteban over to the men chasing him. Should he turn him over to the Cartel, the Yakuza or the bikers? Would the others need to know he was dead? This was complicated.

              “Si, I couldn't get anywhere. This town was the only place I could go.”

              “Okay. Well, I have a Bronco out back, let's head out there now.”

              “Let me move my Mercedes,” Esteban said.

              “No need, they know you'll be here. Just leave it,” Axl said, not adding how he wanted them to know he was around. He also was amazed at how easily Esteban had accepted his story. He put the “E” in “Eediot”.

              The two men walked out, Esteban holding onto his duffle bag like his life depended on it, which it probably did. Axl just nodded at Mark as they left. The two men had made it around the back when a huge dust cloud was visible in the distance. Esteban and Axl both watched and were dismayed to see it was a convoy made up of the Cartel's trucks, the Yakuza's SUVs and motorcycles.

              “Shit. Looks like all your enemies have teamed up to get your ass,” Axl said, wondering how to deal with this new development.

              “Oh, this is bad. Very, very bad,” Esteban said.

              “Come on,” Axl said, and the two of them ran to the Bronco.

              As Axl hopped into the driver's seat, Esteban pushed Rosita over and climbed in beside her.

              “Oh great, look who's here,” Rosita said, her disgust obvious.

              Axl started the Bronco and drove off, wondering how he could present Esteban to the men without getting them all killed. He pulled around the bar just as the convoy made it into town.

              “Señor, why are you stopping?” Esteban said, panic in his voice.

              “I'm going to–” Axl said, unsure how to finish the sentence. It was a moot point, as a hail of bullets rained down onto the Bronco. All three factions were firing at them, and Axl had no way of telling them the situation.

              Axl floored it, heading for the open desert as Trista and Geoff screamed, and Esteban cursed. Only Axl and Rosita remained silent. Esteban leaned out of the window and took a few shots at their pursuers, but missed.

              The entire group was soon chasing Axl as he headed for the nearby mountains, still trying to think of a plan. Bullets were peppering the Bronco, but his modifications were holding. Soon the bikes began to close in, able to move faster than the other vehicles with them.

              “Fuck they're going to kill us!” Geoff said as bikers began to surround the vehicle.

              “Not if I can help it,” Axl said, whipping the Bronco to the side and sending two of the bikers flying.

              Another biker pulled up right beside Axl, firing a double-barreled shotgun right at the driver’s side window. Thankfully, the bulletproof glass held up. Axl rolled the window down to take his own shot before the biker could reload.

              The biker wasn't wearing a helmet, and Axl was shocked to see a familiar face. “YOU!” Eric yelled just as Axl fired, the magnum bullet catching Eric in the upper lip and sending his brains through the back of his head along with a shower of blood and bone. Axl fired again, sending another biker to hell as they neared the edge of the mountain range.

              “I'm going to drive up the mountain a ways, and then we're all going to pile out and run. Run straight up the mountain. There should be plenty of places to hide. Geoff make sure you bring that shotgun,” Axl said, reaching into the console and tossing a box of shells back to Geoff. He dug further into the console and pulled out a box of magnum shells for himself which he stuck in his pocket.

              “Everyone ready?” Axl said. No one answered, but Axl just assume they were.

              He drove the Bronco straight up the side of the nearest mountain but didn't get far before the gears began to grind, and it was just too steep to go any further.

              “Everyone out!” he ordered, and they obeyed. Everyone scattered, running up the rocky terrain as bullets pinged all around then. They passed a small cave, which Axl herded Rosita, Trista and Geoff into.

              “Geoff you stay right here. If anyone except me tries to come in there, blast them to hell!” Axl said. Geoff noticed he didn't mention Esteban, but just nodded.

              “Esteban, we have to make a deal with them. Do you still have what you took?” Axl asked.

              “Most of it was in the house,” Esteban said. “I only have what I could stuff in this bag, and I didn't take any drugs.”

              Axl looked down at the bag, his mind racing. “Okay, hold onto that for now. I have a plan. Do you trust me enough to go along with it?”

              “Si,” Esteban said. “What will you do?”

              “Just go along with it, no matter what I say. Keep in mind, it's all part of the plan. Don't worry about what I say. It's just something to get us out of this. Got it?”

              “I have it, tell them what you must,” Esteban said. “Trick them good, eh?” Esteban said, winking.

              The men all parked at the bottom of the mountain, maybe 30 feet below them. They were slowly making their way up, the Yakuza and Cartel members on each side with the bikers in the middle. Axl noticed the bikers were greatly outnumbered, not a surprise considering he'd just taken several of them out himself.

              “Parlay!” Axl said, wondering if they knew what that meant. His answer was several bullets aimed his way. “Oh for fuck's sake,” Axl said, taking off his jacket and tossing it the ground. “Too hot for that anyway,” he said. He then took off his white t-shirt and waved it in the air. “Let's talk!” he shouted.

              He looked down and saw the group had stopped and seemed to be conferring with one another. “What do you want to say?” a member of the Cartel yelled, ostensibly the chosen spokesman.

              “We need to make a deal. We don't want to die, and I don't think you really want to kill us,” Axl said.

              “We don't know you, but we want to kill the man with you. Therefore, you all must die,” the spokesman said.

              “I know him, and he's gonna fucking die too! He just killed Eric, Tony, Willie, and Gas-can! He's gotta die too!” one of the bikers shouted.

              “I'm sorry about that. I was just defending myself!” Axl shouted, not liking the new turn of events. “Listen, we can make a deal.”

              “We're listening,” the spokesman said.

              “I know where the drugs are. We can turn them over to you!”

              “We have our drugs and money back, we just need to take care of the puta who stole from us and killed our friends!” the spokesman said, angry.

              “Okay, well, in that case, what if I turn Esteban over to you? Will you let the rest of us live?” Axl shouted.

              “Señor, what the fuck are you doing?” Esteban said, having gone white as a sheet.