chapter thirty-seven
When Jack and the men returned to the kitchen, El Pero was about to hang the key back on the rack, but before he could, something outside the window caught his eye. He swore in Spanish and ran outside.
“He saw the iguana again,” explained Big Al, shaking his head while pointing out the window to a big lizard clinging to the trunk of the tree. “It has become a matter of pride for him. Any of the other men here could easily kill it in a single shot … even if they were drunk. Unfortunately, El Pero has not had their training. He thinks the iguana knows this and is laughing at him.”
Jack watched as El Pero ran to his SUV and retrieved an H&R .32-calibre, six-shot, long-barrelled revolver from the glove box.
“He has replaced his pistol with a new gun,” observed Big Al. “Before his gun had a shorter barrel. Maybe now his aim will be better.”
El Pero rested the barrel on one arm and aimed, before firing two shots at the iguana. Neither shot came close enough for the iguana to even flinch.
“No, he is still a terrible shot,” muttered Big Al.
“Is there a danger someone might hear the shots?” asked Jack, concerned Adams or Rubalcava would hear the shots and come barraging in to try and rescue him.
“No,” replied Big Al. “The men often target-practise out here. The only people who could hear are security men.”
“I haven’t even seen any security,” said Jack, “other than these two,” he said, with a nod toward the two mercenaries.
“Oh, there at many others out there,” Big Al assured him. “And much better shots than El Pero,” he added, “who will be lucky if he does not shoot himself in his foot.”
As if to emphasize the point, El Pero fired two more shots and the iguana safely crawled higher into the tree, more perhaps, to escape El Pero’s string of profanity than from the bullets.
“This has gone on long enough,” said Big Al, sounding frustrated. “I will demonstrate to you that we do have security. Step outside and you will see something.”
With that comment, Big Al made a brief telephone call while Jack went outside and watched as El Pero fired another errant shot up into the tree.
The iguana was barely visible, as it had sought refuge amongst some leafy branches. A second later, the sound of a single rifle retort from off in the distance was followed by the iguana tumbling to the ground with the top of its head missing.
Jack looked from where the shot came and could barely make out two figures near an SUV on a far hill. He turned back toward the house and saw Big Al standing on the porch smiling at him.
“Your example of security has been well illustrated,” said Jack, respectfully. “You have a hell of a good sharpshooter out there.”
“There are many such men out there,” replied Big Al, with a wave of his hands toward the surrounding hills. “Now, unfortunately we must go,” he added. “There is a delivery being made soon and some more men will be arriving to look after it. I was told you must not be here then.”
“I understand. Besides, I do not want to be late to call Damien.”
“Okay, we — excuse me.” Big Al stopped to answer his cellphone. When he did, he smiled at Jack and held up two fingers. “Wait here, I will be right back,” he said, before stepping back inside the house to continue his call.
There was something about Big Al’s smile Jack didn’t feel comfortable about. Were Adams and Rubalcava in the area? Did they hear the gunfire and think I need help?
Jack walked over and pretended to look at the dead iguana. In reality he was considering grabbing the revolver from El Pero if Adams responded to the gunfire. As he kicked the iguana carcass with his foot, he glanced around. The lone SUV parked on the far hill remained where it was. There did not appear to be any reason for alarm. Good, considering El Pero only has one bullet left in his revolver …
Jack glanced at El Pero, who cursed some more and shook his fist in the direction of the sharpshooter. When El Pero turned to face him, Jack shook his head in apparent sympathy while looking at the hills around them. Good, no sign of any rescue attempt …
Jack turned back toward the house as the sound of footsteps clumped across the porch. It was Big Al, Sanchez, Berto, Eduardo, and the two mercenaries … who were both aiming their M-16A2 automatic rifles at him.
Jack stared silently at Big Al who walked up to face him. “I have some news that concerns you,” said Big Al, practically spitting the words out.
“Concerns me?” said Jack innocently. He knew he couldn’t successfully disarm these men and it was up to his wits and his tongue to get him out of the situation.
“Yes,” replied Big Al. “My men in Canada have spoken with Señor Damien.”
Oh, fuck … I’m dead …
“Señor Damien says you are a very dangerous man, Corporal Jack Taggart,” continued Big Al. “He says we should kill you immediately.”
Jack was only partially aware that one of the mercenaries had moved in behind him. He did see Big Al look past him toward the mercenary and give a slight nod of permission.
Jack started to turn around as the mercenary raised his weapon, but he was much too late.
Big Al stepped back as a spray of blood splattered his shirt as Jack’s bloody body collapsed to the ground.