.png)
EXCERPTS
I grab both Glocks and the two mags, all loaded up with seventeen rounds apiece. My cold steel fila and berretta .25 cal. are tucked in my boot, and my cover knife is secure on my belt. Everybody, from the cops to the crooks, always takes my belt knife but they usually miss my cold steel knife with the Tanto blade, which is my best weapon. If you have a gun at your waist and I have my knife, you will never clear leather. My tio’s right hand guy, El Machete, took him, barely alive, to a tree where he tied him up, cut a hole in his stomach, pulled out about four feet of guts, and tied those to a stake. That way, the dude could see what the coyotes were having for dinner. I pull up to my crew’s digs. “I see you, joto. Don’t try to flank me, and I can see Paco on the roof. Why do you guys do this every time? Paco,” I yell up, “don’t wear your hunting camo on a tin roof. I saw you when I hit the hill behind your house, pendejo.”
“Untape her mouth.“
Rigo does, and I ask her name.
“Loraine, motherfucker!“
“Orale, Loraine. Bit of a fucked up name for a Mexican chick, but okay.” I’m all focus, deep breathing and everything. Good thing I got my yoga in. Then I notice it: she’s wearing Versace jeans, a Vera Wang top, and a badass A. Lange & Sohne 18-karat red gold watch. Something’s not right. That isn’t a gift you give any girlfriend….
My eyes open and I can feel the heat of the day. The air in South Texas is like a hot skillet, pressing you down into the dirt. It’s all we can really count on in South Texas, the heat.
I grab both Glocks and the two mags, all loaded up with seventeen rounds apiece. My cold steel fila and berretta .25 cal. are tucked in my boot, and my cover knife is secure on my belt. Everybody, from the cops to the crooks, always takes my belt knife but they usually miss my cold steel knife with the Tanto blade, which is my best weapon. If you have a gun at your waist and I have my knife, you will never clear leather. My tio’s right hand guy, El Machete, took him, barely alive, to a tree where he tied him up, cut a hole in his stomach, pulled out about four feet of guts, and tied those to a stake. That way, the dude could see what the coyotes were having for dinner. I pull up to my crew’s digs. “I see you, joto. Don’t try to flank me, and I can see Paco on the roof. Why do you guys do this every time? Paco,” I yell up, “don’t wear your hunting camo on a tin roof. I saw you when I hit the hill behind your house, pendejo.”
We picked the package up at the Cadillac Bar in Nuevo Laredo from a horse trainer. He explained the ice chest had horse semen from some famous racehorse. It was worth a lot of money, and we had a timeframe of six hours before it would be worthless. Sounded easy, turned into a shitstorm—but we pulled it off. Can you imagine going to jail in Nuevo Laredo Mexico for trafficking horse love juice? Embarrassing.
“Untape her mouth.“
Rigo does, and I ask her name.
“Loraine, motherfucker!“
“Orale, Loraine. Bit of a fucked up name for a Mexican chick, but okay.” I’m all focus, deep breathing and everything. Good thing I got my yoga in. Then I notice it: she’s wearing Versace jeans, a Vera Wang top, and a badass A. Lange & Sohne 18-karat red gold watch. Something’s not right. That isn’t a gift you give any girlfriend….
No comments:
Post a Comment