Leaning against the driver’s door of my truck, I settled in to watch and wait. While the road was well traveled even at this hour, I was aware the moment another vehicle slowed downbehind where I was parked. Within hesitation, I pulled out my weapon, remaining where I was and peering over the hood.
It took me a few seconds to recognize the visitor. Chuckling, I threw a look over my shoulder to ensure the cockroaches were still inside before moving around the front of my truck. I had to shake my head seeing Maverick’s choice of vehicles.
When he stepped out holding a pair of nunchucks in his hand, I laughed. The man was dressed in all black and while I’d known about his martial arts training, I was surprised to see him carrying the mostly illegal weapon. He was also carrying a gun and I knew from conversations over poker he regularly went to the shooting range. “Couldn’t you have thought about a less flashy car to arrive in?” Given his celebrity status as an author, he’d been allowed to indulge in his passion.
Expensive cars.
Including the Porshe 911-GT3.
“Hey, my other two cars are in for service. Plus, I didn’t have much advance notice.” He grinned as he approached. Very little had changed since his days of being in the FBI. He’d captured his share of bad guys during his illustrious career, his field work and takedown percentage legendary.
“Your other two cars. I thought you had ten.”
“I sold a few off.” He shook my hand then immediately scanned the diner. “Chase told me what was going on. Did Ms. Sciascia get off safely?”
“She did and they’re about to figure out their prized possession is missing.” We both watched as the waitress who’d served me coffee headed for their table. “We have about ten seconds.”
“How do you want to handle this?”
I’d thought about that for a full hour. “I want them incapacitated but alive. They need to convey the message that the Undertaker’s and Delgado’s days are numbered.”
“You’re sure about drifting over the line?”
Before I answered, I opened the passenger truck door, yanking out my bat. I had several, but the one made of maple signed by my favorite New York Yankees baseball player was my favorite. And would have a positive effect on the cockroaches’ attitudes. “This isn’t drifting, Maverick. This is jumping in with both feet wrapped by chains and concrete. It’s necessary and I refuse to allow the bastards to get away with their crimes.”
“Is this more about the lovely lady?”
As the door opened and the four bastards rushed outside, the answer was easy. “The lovely lady and justice.”
At least that very lovely lady had followed my directions. Almost instantly, the lights went out in the diner, leaving the area pitch black. With the other businesses in the area closed there were only a few older streetlights, which did little more than cast a sickly orange glow on the cracked sidewalks below.
The fuckers were furious and in overhearing one cursing in Spanish, a language I knew well, there was no doubt as to their intentions.
We find the bitch and we cut her up.
And another had to open his big, fat mouth.
“Después de un poco de tiempo de juego.”
After a little playtime.
The boys would soon learn threats of that nature said in front of an officer of the law were illegal. I snickered at the thought. They continued their approach with no clue they weren’t going anywhere.
Maverick and I moved from the darkness, crossing into the diner’s parking lot. The one who’d made the bad decision to give me any shit noticed our approach first.
“We have company,” he growled. In English. The four of them swaggered around the SUV.
“They think they’re all that. Don’t they?” Maverick asked and playfully swung the nunchucks. Which caused the cockroaches to laugh.
They had no clue what they were in for. “All that and bags of chips. Soon to be crushed.”
“They think they’re bad, Cachi,” a second asshole sputtered while spreading his suit jacket and revealing his weapon.
“Yeah. They’ll learn.Muéstrales el éxtasis.”
“Oh, for the love of God,” Maverick hissed.
Show them rapture. It had become a mantra for the cartel over the years, a battle cry that meant absolutely nothing.
