chapter twenty-nine
At seven o’clock, El Pero arrived at the Armadillo Motel. This time he had a different driver who came to the door, as well. Jack let them both in.
The driver was a husky man who stood as tall as Jack. His hair was short and his eyes darted around the room. His face had the scars of more than one battle, but it wasn’t his face that spiked Jack’s adrenalin. The excitement he felt was because the man was missing an earlobe. He knew it had to be Eduardo Cortez, the man Rubalcava had identified as being an enforcer for the Guajardo cartel.
Jack stuck his hand out and said, “I’m Jack.”
Eduardo looked at El Pero who nodded, so he stood like he was at attention and shook Jack’s hand and said, “I’m Eduardo. Pleased to meet you, sir.”
Jack recalled Rubalcava’s comment that Eduardo had received military training. Judging by the battle scars on his face, Jack suspected his training had frequently been put to use.
“Are you ready?” asked El Pero.
“Yes,” replied Jack. “Is it okay if I take my camera? My boss would like to see who we are planning on doing business with.”
“I do not see why not,” replied El Pero, “but I will take your camera and ask permission when we arrive.”
Jack handed him his camera and he gave Jack an apologetic look. “Señor Jack, I know it is unpleasant and I am sure unnecessary, but there is something we need to do.”
Jack smiled and said, “I understand. My boss is the same way when he meets new people.” With that comment, Jack turned and placed his hands on the wall and spread his feet so Eduardo could search him.
Forty-five minutes later, Jack was in the back of the SUV as it crossed the Bridge of the Americas and stopped at Mexican Customs. He found it slightly disconcerting when the immigration officer recognized El Pero and apologized to him for the inconvenience of stopping him, while hastily waving them through.
Soon after, Eduardo double-parked on the street in front of a restaurant and the three of them got out and walked to the front door. Jack counted four burly men loitering out front. Despite the heat, they all wore light jackets. Judging by the way they studied each approaching car and person, Jack concluded they had received training as V.I.P. bodyguards.
“Parking attendants?” said Jack to El Pero, with a nod of his head to one of the four men.
“If you are parked by them, Jack, you will never move again,” replied El Pero with a grim smile.
The restaurant was large enough to hold sixty customers and had a bar at the far end. The only customers present were a group of fifteen men who were sitting at a few tables pushed together in the middle. They were all casually dressed and appeared to be enjoying themselves.
El Pero’s uncle was easy to spot. Big Al was the biggest man at the table and when their eyes met, Jack could see his face looked like an older version of El Pero’s ugly mug.
The men sitting on the same side of the table as Big Al scrambled to move their chairs out of his way as he rose and lumbered over to meet Jack. It was then that Jack noticed a huge difference between Big Al and El Pero. Big Al was muscular to the point that Jack suspected his physique was a result of weight-lifting and steroid use. Overall, he looked like he could have been a wrestler.
Jack smiled and accepted his firm handshake like they were already good friends and looked into the dark eyes studying him. “Muchas gusto, señor,” said Jack, intentionally stumbling over the words and mispronouncing them as he shook his hand.
Big Al smiled back, exposing a gold front tooth. “You speak Spanish.”
“Sorry,” said Jack, shaking his head. “It took me all day to learn to say that.”
“Well … you said it very well.” Big Al smiled. “I am Señor Alphonse Franco, but many of my gringo friends call me Big Al. It is a nickname I rather like. Come, I have saved you a seat beside me.”
“Are we going to be talking business in front of all these men?” asked Jack.
“Business? No, no, no. First we eat and get to know each other. After, I have something planned to entertain ourselves. Everything is on me. If you see something …” Big Al smiled, nudging Jack with his elbow and added, “or perhaps someone you like, let me know. Tonight I want you to have fun. Business can come later.”
Jack sat alongside Big Al and El Pero sat on the other side of him. Eduardo sat across from them. Next to Eduardo was a man whom Jack recognized. It was the same man who sneered into the apartment security camera. The man he had nicknamed as El Burla. Tonight is turning out very well.
Jack saw Big Al was drinking Taittinger champagne and requested the same. As soon as he was served, Big Al raised his glass and said first in Spanish and then in English, “Here is to the peoples of the world getting to know each other.”
Jack clinked glasses with Big Al and took a sip. When Big Al continued to gulp the entire glass, Jack followed suit.
A waiter standing behind them immediately refilled both glasses. Jack raised his glass and said, “Water separates the people of the world, but wine unites us.”
Big Al laughed and said, “Yes, water like the Rio Grande.” He then translated in Spanish, which elicited a few smiles around the table.
“Señor Jack,” said Big Al, “you have met my nephew … he is handsome like his uncle, yes?”
“Exactly what I was thinking when I walked in,” said Jack.
“We call him El Pero because he is like a dog. Isn’t that right, El Pero?” laughed Big Al, while ruffling El Pero’s hair.
El Pero beamed at the attention he received from his uncle. It was obviously an inside joke, but Jack smiled as if he understood.
The drinking continued, along with general conversation mixed with a few crude jokes while waitresses brought what seemed like a never-ending assortment of different dishes.
As the night progressed, Jack asked if he could have his camera back so he could take some pictures to show his boss how well he was being treated. Big Al readily agreed and had one of his men take a couple of pictures with Jack’s camera.
“That is a good idea,” said Big Al. “I also have some people who would like to know you are having a good time. Jack smiled and posed with drink in hand while several more photographs were taken with cellphone cameras.
Jack tried to act like he was really enjoying himself. A role he found difficult to do while some of the men, laughing with evil delight, groped terrified waitresses and yanked their blouses open to kiss their breasts. The liquor behind the bar was also freely ransacked.
Jack ’s role of portraying a member of an outlaw motorcycle gang left him in a position where such behaviour was to appear acceptable to him, even applauded. The more he was forced to smile and laugh, the more his anger boiled inside him. As the night continued, he found himself frequently checking his watch, wishing the sickening spectacle was over.
It was midnight when Big Al mentioned it was time to leave and go to another place he had reserved.
“Another place?” asked Jack.
“A quieter place to drink and mingle with each other,” he said. “I know some of my men wish to meet you. Your organization has gained a certain popularity it would seem.”
Jack welcomed the chance to meet one of Big Al’s men in particular. The man who sneered and thumbed his nose at the security camera before committing murder.
“Sounds great, but I shouldn’t be too late,” Jack said. “I have to be at a certain gas station in El Paso early tomorrow morning. It has been arranged that my boss will call me there.”
“Ah, I see. That would be Señor Damien,” said Big Al.
“You know him?” asked Jack, feeling his stomach knot.
“No, but his reputation is highly regarded.”
“Yes, I certainly think the world of him. But of course, for now, it is Damien’s idea you only deal through me. We do not want word of this meeting getting out until everything is running smoothly. We don’t want it to cause problems with the people we have been dealing with. There are still some business transactions that haven’t been concluded yet.”
“I understand, amigo. We keep this secret. I only contact you and you speak for Señor Damien. Do not tomorrow … worry in the morning,” said Big Al, whose command of the English language had deteriorated slightly in accordance with the amount he had drank. “I will have my men take you back in time to call the gas station.”
As the entourage walked out of the restaurant, Jack saw the owner of the restaurant thanking Big Al profusely for gracing his restaurant with his presence. A scene Jack found rather pathetic, considering nothing had been paid for.
Jack rode in the back of a silver SUV with Big Al and El Pero sat in the front with a bodyguard who was driving. The rest of Big Al’s men piled into an assortment of other vehicles and formed small parade as they all drove away. Soon their driver decided it was too slow and quickly outdistanced the other vehicles.
As they drove, Jack saw the driver occasionally studying him through the rear-view mirror. Jack didn’t know if it was the man’s penetrating eyes, or how he professionally handled the SUV through the traffic, but his gut instinct told him the man was a police officer. When their eyes locked momentarily, Jack smiled and said hello.
The driver frowned and turned his attention back to the street in front of him.
“He doesn’t speak English very well,” explained Big Al.
Eventually they stopped on the street in front of a small boutique hotel. A minute later, the rest of the entourage arrived. Jack saw the four bodyguards — the same ones who had been at the restaurant earlier — bail out of another SUV and take up positions beside the front door of the hotel. Two of the bodyguards held MAC-10 mini-machine guns and strutted about looking as menacing as they could.
The entire entourage remained parked, blocking traffic, as the passengers casually got out. Nobody waiting had the nerve to show their impatience by blowing their horns.
“I have more men inside,” smiled Big Al as his eyes studied Jack’s face for a response.
Jack nodded politely. He knew Big Al was putting on a show for him. Had the bodyguards really been necessary, their driver would not have broken ranks with the rest of the vehicles and the hotel would have already been secured by bodyguards before they arrived.
Jack was pleased. If he respects me enough to try and impress me, he might be willing to answer a few questions …
The hotel was a two-storey building with a flat roof built in traditional Spanish architecture and had four granite columns across the front. The entire building was painted pink and set off from the rest of the buildings on the street by a lane down each side leading to a parking lot and back alley.
It was when Jack got out of the SUV he noticed the sign on the roof. El Toro Solitario, which in English meant The Lonely Bull.
Big Al slapped him on the back and said, “Remember, tonight everything is my treat. I insist upon it.”
Oh shit … it’s a brothel.