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The man snapped up his head. “How the fuck do you know my name?”
“You do jobs for the Valdez Cartel.” I made sure his men heard me as well. “Is this a job for a customer of the cartel?”
“I can’t tell you shit,” the man pushed off the ground. “I’ll be dead meat if I do.”
“What do you think, guys?” I kept my eyes on Wilkes but addressed my crew. “Should we show them how we treat murderers and drug dealers?”
“With pleasure.” Bozeman’s bass reverberated in the gap as he took a step forward, a promise of vengeance that had the bastards squirming on their feet.
“Tell him what you know,” one of Wilkes’ men whimpered, and the others agreed with a murmur.
“Perhaps if you give me something interesting, we’ll turn you turds over to the police after all.” I offered an incentive.
“It’s an outside job,” Wilkes blurted out.
“Name?”
“Don’t know his real name,” Wilkes said.
I made a show of raising my hand in the air.
“No, wait!” Wilkes rushed to still my hand. “I don’t know his name, but he goes by Coco on the streets.”
“Coco.” That was something. “Does Coco deal in drugs like your bosses?”
“I don’t know if he deals or not,” Wilkes said. “But he’s got money. Lots of it.”
A cartel financier then.
“What else does Coco offer your bosses, in addition to cash?”
“I don’t know, maybe raw materials?”
“Fentanyl?”
Wilkes nodded.
“Logistics?”
Wilkes assented again.
Son of a bitch. A fucker like that would be plugged into a world-wide network. He’d have tons of resources and a global reach to kill Thena and all her sisters.
“Is he an American?”
“How the fuck am I supposed to know that?” Wilkes protested. “I’ve never talked to him!”
“I’ll amend my question so you can live a little longer,” I gritted out. “Have you seen or heard anything that gives you clues as to the man’s nationality?”
“Only that he likes to pay and get paid in dollars. Or crypto. He likes crypto a lot.”
That didn’t help much.
I was about to ask the asshat where he got his intel to set up his ambush when Mina’s alarmed voice called out through the comms. “Boss, I got a blip on the radar,” she reported, speaking fast. “Zooming in. Shit. Drone. Incoming!”
“Tracker team, scram,” I bellowed into the comms as I backed away from the tangos at a dead run. “UAV protocol.”
The unmanned aerial vehicle came out of nowhere and slammed into the gap.
