Lance Morgan, president of the west-side chapter of Satan’s Wrath, went to the clubhouse and listened to what Jarvis had to say. When Jarvis was finished talking, Lance called Damien and spoke briefly.

“Damien doesn’t know either of these guys,” said Lance when he hung up. “Maybe they’re trying to set him up for a hit. Take the boys over and check them out.”

Twenty minutes later, Miguel and Ramiro had guns shoved in their faces by six members of Satans Wrath. They were both jerked out of their car and slammed up against a garbage dumpster and roughly searched. Lance was watching from a distance and waited until Jarvis gave him a wave before walking up to them.

“No weapons,” said Jarvis. “They do have a new Rolex watch in their car though. It’s still in the box.”

“Are you Señor Damien?” asked Miguel meekly. “It is for you. A gift from Big Al. There is also a picture in a brown envelope.”

Jarvis retrieved the items from the car and handed the watch to Lance.

Lance nodded appreciatively as he examined the jewel-encrusted watch. Jarvis then handed him the picture.

“That is Big Al,” said Miguel helpfully, pointing to the picture. “Many beautiful ladies, yes? I think your man is having a good time.”

Lance’s jaw gaped open as he looked at the picture. “My man?” he spluttered.

“You do not know him?” asked Miguel, looking shocked.

“Fuckin’ rights I know him,” replied Lance hotly, before turning to Jarvis and saying, “Hold these two until I get back with Damien.”

In Juarez, Jack and Adams walked down the alley to return to their car.

“What are you going to do now?” asked Jack, with a final glance at Rubalcava, who was walking away in the opposite direction.

“After I drop you off at the hotel, I’ll go to the office and feed the bosses the scenario you told me,” replied Adams.

“I’m so groggy from lack of sleep, do you mind running it past me? What did I suggest?” asked Jack.

“Fuck, I always heard you Canadians were polite. What you’re really wanting to know is if I have it right … right?”

Jack grinned in response.

“Okay,” continued Adams. “I’ll tell the bosses you met some of the bad guys last night and give them the news about what you learned, except for the part of you being taken to Casa Blanca. I’ll tell them I’m contacting my CIs to ask about a possible location for Casa Blanca and also line up a potential arrest scenario for everyone to be in place at The Old Warehouse.”

“Which, by the sounds of it, we’ll have to postpone.”

“Yeah, but hopefully by then we’ll know where Casa Blanca is. How long we postpone it may depend on what you find out. If she’s already dead …”

“I know.” Jack sighed. “That would change everything. Will your people expect to cover me at the Armadillo? They might expect me to go there to see if Slater is around.”

“I’ll tell them it’s not needed. I’ll say if he is there, that you’re only swinging by to invite him to The Old Warehouse, as well.”

“Sounds like we have our ducks in a row.”

“Then I’ll split from the office and be waiting for you with my friend on the highway.”

“They pick me up at twelve and I should be back to the Armadillo by three. I figure we should be going by you around one.”

“Yeah,” said Adams glumly. “If we are on the right highway and if you are in the right vehicle so we can spot you.”

“Don’t worry if you don’t. If it isn’t near the radio tower, I’ll figure out some way to find the place again, even if I have to crawl up on the roof and mark it with a big X.”

“It was finding you I was thinking of … before you’re X’d. C-X’d that is.”

Jack normally would have smiled. C-X was a term used in target-practising to indicate the kill zone of the heart or lung vicinity. At the moment, Adams’s comment didn’t seem all that funny. He glanced at Adams and sombrely replied, “Like you said before, there is nothing you can do, regardless.”

They drove back across the Bridge of the Americas to Jack’s hotel in El Paso in utter silence. Both men were quietly wondering what the next few hours would bring. When Adams pulled up to the front of the hotel, he leaned over and shook Jack’s hand.

“Good luck,” Adams said.

“Thanks. See you for a beer later,” replied Jack as he got out.

Adams remained parked for a moment as he watched Jack walk away.

I wonder if I will ever see him alive again …

chapter thirty-five

It was eleven o’clock when Jack arrived back at the Armadillo Motel and saw Slater’s pickup truck parked in front of a unit. Seconds later, Slater let him into his room.

“When did you get in?” asked Jack, flopping down into a chair.

“About ten minutes ago. I’ve been on the road since four o’clock this morning.”

“You poor guy,” said Jack, somewhat sarcastically.

“Yeah, I’m pooped. I was about to call my contact and let him know I’m here. Have you met any of the guys yet?”

“Last night. They took me out on the town. I met the uncle.”

“Everything okay?” Slater asked.

“Couldn’t be better. You may as well hold off on contacting them. They’re picking me up within the hour to show me some of their operation.”

“Will I be coming with you?”

“Definitely not,” Jack intoned.

“Good, then depending on what they want me to do with the money, I might be able to get some sleep.”

Promptly at twelve o’clock, Berto and Eduardo arrived in El Pero’s white SUV. After a brief conversation, it was decided Jack would travel with Berto in the SUV and Eduardo would ride with Slater in his pickup truck to show him where to deliver the money.

“The place where we are taking Señor Slater is also where we are meeting Big Al and El Pero, explained Berto. “Señor Slater will stay there while the rest of us continue on. Once you have seen Casa Blanca, El Pero, Eduardo and me will take you back to El Paso. We can maybe have a few drinks, go out for dinner and then go to The Old Warehouse tonight.”

“Sounds great. Too bad Big Al couldn’t join us.”

“Yes, that is unfortunate. Now, I am sorry but I must —”

Jack turned away and leaned spread-eagled against the wall. Neither Berto or Eduardo had their shirts tucked in and by the telltale bulges, Jack knew they were both armed. Too bad they wouldn’t accommodate me, too …

Fifty minutes later, the four men pulled up to an auto body shop in Juarez. Berto parked out front while Slater was told to park inside the shop. Jack was then directed to Big Al’s silver SUV, which was parked farther down the street.

As Jack walked over, Big Al and El Pero got out to greet him. He and Big Al then sat in the back while El Pero got in the front. Sanchez stared at Jack from where he was sitting behind the wheel and Jack smiled at him. The smile was not returned.

Jack had not seen any telltale signs to indicate if Big Al or El Pero were armed, but there was no doubt in his mind Sanchez was.

Eduardo left Slater at the body shop and rejoined Berto, who then pulled up behind them in the white SUV. Jack felt slightly relieved. Not only were the vehicles known to Adams, but two SUVs travelling down a highway would be easy to spot. The windows were too tinted for anyone to see for sure which one he was in, but it didn’t matter as long as both SUVs stayed together.

“Now I must do this,” smiled Big Al apologetically as he held up a black cloth bag with a drawstring.