The Mexican stopped the car, pulling off the road into an open space. Benson bolted upright in the rear seat.
"Okay, amigo. We make deal, now." The Mexican opened his door and stepped outside. Benson followed him from the rear.
The Mexican was much shorter than Benson, and Benson knew that, if it came to it, he could take him. There was no sign that the little dealer carried a weapon, at least not a revolver, anyway. So Benson breathed easier.
"Fifty dollars, amigo," the Mexican said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small packet of the white stuff.
Benson took out his fifty dollars, wondering what the hell was happening. Standing out here in the middle of the fucking desert making a small-time score like this was far beyond his experience. He was prepared for anything, and if he wasn't so damned strung out for lack of the stuff, his adrenaline would have been flowing even faster.
The Mexican took the fifty dollars, then handed the small bag over to Benson. At that moment the sky seemed to explode. The entire area around them was lit up like the middle of the day. Benson froze, trying to adjust his eyes to the sudden glare of bright headlights.
"Hold it right there, friend!" The voice carried the authority of the law with it. Benson recognized the sting immediately. He also recognized the fact that he had been set up. He believed that the little Mexican, along with Pancho, were doing nothing more than giving the local narcotics man his monthly quota of addicts, making the man's name a prominent one when promotion time came around.
"Aw, fuck this shit, man!" Benson sighed as he saw the figure of a young Mexican walking toward him out of the glare of the headlights. By this time, the Mexican in the Cadillac had already gotten inside his car and was quickly disappearing down the highway.
"I'm Federal Narcotics Agent Tony Gonzia. You are under arrest for the illegal purchase of heroin. Your rights are as follows...."
"Fuck that shit, man. What's the fuckin' trip?"
Agent Gonzia took the small packet from Benson, turning it around easily in his hand while he inspected it. "You need this stuff, amigo? You need it bad?"
Benson didn't answer but stood there watching the slim Mexican. Obviously he needed it. There was no other reason that he would be standing in the middle of the fucking desert if he didn't.
"You want it steady, amigo? You want to score any time, and get paid for it?"
Benson couldn't believe what he was hearing. The man was offering him the world. "Pull my coat to where you're coming from, man."
"Well," Gonzia began slowly, looking directly at Benson, "you got two choices. You either spend some time behind bars on this little rap here, or you work with me..., as an undercover man"
"Oh, shit, man!" Benson moaned. He had heard about the shit that came down on the undercover men who had been caught by the mainliners. It wasn't pretty.
"You got no choice, amigo. No choice at all."
Benson knew that the man was right. He would have to work for the law, something he had always detested. Benson shrugged his shoulders and stared at the desert sand.
Gonzia smiled, tossed the packet of heroin back to Benson and waved to someone in the car. "All right, man, let's get to work." Gonzia led Benson back toward the unmarked car. The desert winds blew hot and heavy that night, and William Benson rode in silence back to Las Vegas, New Mexico.
It had been a long road from that hot night in the middle of the New Mexico desert, a road that would eventually lead the two men to the parking lot in the small town of Clovis.
Benson leaned over and held the door for his partner, who was juggling two hot cups of coffee. The black informer took his cup from the Mexican.
Tony Gonzia grinned as he sat down. "Why so grumpy, Will?" he asked, flashing his constant smile. "Don't worry, we'll find you another good connect."
William had to flinch at the insight of the Mexican. Tony had hit it right on the head. He wondered idly if he was that transparent. Then a flash of anger ran through him at Tony's smugness. From the vantage point of his middle age he could look down at the hotshot agent. He knew if Tony stayed in under cover work and continued to snort, he would one day be having the same problem.
"Don't worry about findin' me a good connect, Tony; worry about findin' a kilo pusher. That's what we get paid for," William stated, his dark brown features unreadable because of the lines of worry in his face. Fear, living with death, knowing in his heart that no informer could plan on tomorrow, had aged William.
Tony's round, friendly face never lost its smile as he changed the subject smoothly. "We have been feedin' our young friend long enough, but he's greedy, so he bears watching tonight," Tony said.
"All junkies need watching at all times when money is involved," William replied quietly. He had his doubts about their young addict friend.
There was something sneaky about the brother they were dealing with. This would be the first time they spent a large sum of money with him. Before, he had only purchased fifty dollar bags for the undercover men, and then, he had done business only with William, better known as "Will" to the people in the streets.
"I could wish for a better connection myself," Tony said honestly, after taking a sip of coffee. "This fuckin' punk is playin' it too close to the chest. You watch and see. I can feel it. It just ain't right."
William shook his head in agreement. "Well, what can we do? It's been played out to the limit, so what the hell. If this guy is going to introduce us to somebody big, it will be tonight. If not, we'll just have to let him go and try to find another junkie who can get us close to one of the bigger dealers in town"
"Yeah, I know," Tony answered quietly. "I get the royal ass because I know we can't come out and bust this punk we're dealin' with. It would blow our undercover work in this whole fuckin' city!"
"Uh huh," William agreed. "What time was that bastard supposed to show up here? Seven o'clock, wasn't it?"
Tony glanced at the cheap Timex on his wrist. "Yeah, but you don't have to worry. He's got five more minutes, and you can bet your ass he's going to show up. Shit! You don't think he'll miss out on a free blow, do you?"
"I guess you're right," William replied, "'cause here comes slippery Dan now!"
Tony turned around and he could see the slim, dark-skinned Dan coming through the parked cars. He came straight to where the agents were parked.
Fat, round-faced Tony opened the door, keeping his idiot grin on his face as he greeted Dan. Even as the two men greeted each other, Tony thought about how nice it would be to take a vacation after this job was over. Maybe he could swing a deal where he could be looking for a heroin factory while he was in Mexico City. No, he had to give up that line of reasoning because the idiot role he played as an undercover agent wouldn't fit his real-life identity. A smart young graduate from one of the best colleges in California, four years of studying, then coming out and taking up the act of a grinning fool. To have to work with such a man as William was something else, but it paid off in results. William had the knack for meeting drug addicts and having them trust him-something Tony had difficulty doing. He couldn't just ride into a strange city and that same night make a contact with some addict.
With William it was a simple thing. He could spot a user out of a crowd of people, picking the right one on just sight alone, or so Tony believed. William never would explain how he knew who was an addict and why he was sure the person he picked out really used.
"What it is, what it is?" Dan said quickly as he reached over and slapped William's palm. The two men greeted each other loudly, then as Tony closed the door after Dan got into the backseat, they lowered their voices.
"Is everything ready?" William inquired.
"It's as ready as I can get it," Dan answered quickly.
"What you mean by that?" Tony asked, ignoring the angry glare that William gave him.
"Hey, my man," Dan began, "what is this, quiz show U.S.A.? I mean, I'm supposed to answer so many questions for the sixty-four-dollar jackpot, is that it
?" He didn't bother to hide the sarcasm in his voice. Even though Dan did business with many Mexicans, he had never grown to like them. But at least he treated them just like everybody else he came in contact with. He tried to take them all for a trick. Everybody could be beat in some kind of way. He believed all he had to do was wait and figure out where they were weak.
Without waiting for any directions, William started the car up and drove toward Sixth Street. He parked in front of a dingy, two-story building. "Hey, Dan," William began, "listen man, we want a piece of raw dope. We're willin' to spend nine hundred for it, plus toss in another hundred for you, so you ain't got to bum us. But we have got to meet the man."
Dan waited silently until William had finished speaking, then stated, "I know what you want, Will, so I'll relate your feelin' to the man, but it ain't always what you want, if you want some good stuff."
"Hey, my man," William began, "I thought all this crap was taken care of. When you told me to get the money together, and I told you I'd have to bring Tony along, you said cool. You said we could go in and test the dope right there. Now you act as if you want it to go some other kind of way."
"That ain't goin' be cool at all," Tony stated loudly. "It's got to go like you said earlier, it's too late for changes, not if I'm going to spend my money anyway."
As Dan got out of the car, he shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't going as smoothly as he planned, he reflected, but he had foreseen problems and hoped that he had planned enough ahead to handle it.
"We will see what we will see," Dan stated and walked toward the apartment building. Now he hoped, as he neared the building, that Emilio would have kept his part of the bargain so that things might still go off smoothly. Emilio Fernandez had been the only Mexican he could find who had the sense to pull this off. His brother Pedro was too hardheaded to work with, but Emilio was a horse of another color. He was chipping with the dope for one thing, so he was ready for anything that came along that might be smooth.
As soon as he entered the front door of the dwelling, he saw Emilio sitting on the stairway. "Hey, Dan, baby, am I glad to see you." The tall, slim Mexican came toward Dan with his hand out. "Is everything all right? Did the johns show up?"
Dan smiled at the Mexican. Emilio was boyishly slim, with dark eyes that matched the well-groomed black hair that fell around his ears. His nose was well shaped, as well as the small mouth that made him seem feminine.
"Everything is all right so far, Emilio, except the mothahuppas want to come in and test the dope," Dan stated, slowly stroking his chin as he tried to figure out a solution for their problem.
"Oh, shit, man, I knew it was too sweet to work. Shit, five hundred dollars, man! Aw shit, sonofabitch! It was too good." Emilio stopped, thought for a moment, then asked, "Hey, man, why don't we stick the mothafuckers up? I got my knife. Shit, man, if I'd only known, I could have stolen my brother's gun! Goddamn!" He was mumbling to himself.
"Listen, amigo," Dan said quietly. "Let's try it this way first. You step out on the porch with me. Then I'm going to bring one of the guys up here, just one, and you hand me-naw, better yet, you show us the dummy envelope we made up. Then you step back inside, sayin' you ain't goin' do no business with nobody but one of us. You know how to come down, man. Scream about the other dude sittin' in the car, cap on 'em that it's too many people involved. Next time if he comes alone, you'll do business with him. Now, if he don't go for that," Dan added, "you tell us the hell with it, you don't need the money that bad, you dig? Turn your back like you don't want to waste no more time."
"I dig," Emilio said. "We goin' bluff this shit out, huh? To the bitter."
"Yeah," Dan said and opened the door. "Hey, Emilio, I see that Preacher has got his Cadillac sittin' down at the curb, so let's walk down to the car like it's yours, you dig, and you fake like you're going to get in it. That should fake the motherfuckers out of their socks. With a new Caddie sittin' at the curb, it should relieve their minds about gettin' burned for their little bread. After all, they'll figure the car is worth more money than what they're putting up, so as long as they see the car, their minds will be at ease."
The two men walked down to the four-door Fleetwood. "I would open the door and sit down," Emilio said, "but I think the Preacher has an alarm on the fuckin' thing."
"Yeah, man, you're right. It is one on it, so don't even shake the mother too hard. If the alarm goes off and we can't cut it off, it will blow our whole thing. Just fake like you're about to get in, then come back around and stand on the sidewalk. I ain't goin' be but a minute, so keep your fingers crossed."
"Okay, partner," Emilio said as Dan walked back toward the parked car where Tony and William waited. He walked around to the driver's side and motioned for William to roll down the window.
"Hey, Will," he began, "that's the Mex back there standin' beside his ride. He's thinkin' about ridin' off. He said fuck the deal. He didn't know there was going to be another stud in on it. He thought it was going to be just me and you, you dig?"
William glanced at his partner. "Fuck that shit," Tony began, "I don't want to see my money go out of my sight!"
Dan straightened up and shrugged his shoulders. "Okay then, Will, I'll tell the guy it's off. I doubt if we'll ever be able to get him to bring this much dope across town again. You know what I mean? It was almost too much for him to handle anyway, but he managed to get it up, now we go to Nut City on him 'cause we won't go along with his order that he don't want to meet a bunch of people at once. One person at a time is enough for him, and I don't blame him." Dan acted as if he was about to turn and leave. "I don't need no ride back; I'm going to ride with my man back there. That new hog of his is mellow, and besides, he might just break one of his packages open on the ride."
"Wait a minute," Will said, this time not bothering to look at his partner. "Maybe we can still work something out. You said he will meet me, didn't you?"
"Sure," Dan said quickly.
"Okay, okay then, let's go," William said and opened his car door.
Tony glared at his back. He didn't want to force himself on them because he might blow the buy. He felt the pistol in his shoulder holster. At least they wouldn't be out of sight. He reached up and adjusted the mirror on his sun visor so that he could see the three men without turning his head.
As the two men approached Emilio, Emilio removed himself from the fender of the car and met them on the sidewalk.
"Hey, Rico," Dan said, speaking to Emilio. "This is Will. I been coppin' for him for the past month. The guy is cool. We done shot up together five or six times. Ain't no funnies about him; he's a real dopefiend."
Emilio nodded his head as a greeting. "Hey, man, ain't nothin' went the way it was supposed to have gone, Dan. What the fuck is that other stud doing in the car, huh? Wasn't nothing said about bringin' another guy around, man. I don't like strange shit like that, you know what I mean? I'd rather freeze on the sale."
"Hey, amigo," Dan began, "now don't you nut out on me. I'm tryin' to make everybody happy." He glanced seriously at Will.
"Who's got the bread?" Emilio said sharply, taking Will by surprise.
"Why, oh, I have," Will answered shortly.
Emilio grunted, then removed the package from his inside pocket. He held it in his hand until Will pulled his wallet out. Both men were silent while Will extracted the bills from the wallet. Before he could count them out, Emilio turned on his heel and walked toward the front door of the apartment building. He stopped and turned around. "Hey, man, I don't want to take nothing out of your hand. I don't know if your friend is takin' pictures of us or what. I just know he can't seem to stay still in the car seat from twisting around trying to see what we're doing!"
"Hey, man," William said, helping his partner, "he's just worried about his end, that's all. You know, you can't put bread in everybody's hands, man, without gettin' burned."
"Shit!" Emilio cursed, "I'm used to selling kilos, not bullshit like this!" Emilio hesitated, then added, "Y
ou walk over to the side of the house and put the money down in the grass, then I'm going to lay your package down here beside the stairway. That way, ain't nobody did nothing, you dig?"
Will didn't like it, but he had to go along with it. If Tony moved fast enough, once Rico picked up the money, they could still make the arrest. Will walked over and placed the money on the grass. He watched Rico place the white envelope beside the stairway, then walk toward him.
As Rico approached, William hesitated, then decided not to make the arrest until after he had picked up the package and had it in his hands. As he passed Rico, he made a small beckon for Tony to get out of the car. He motioned again as soon as he reached the package, but for some reason Tony must not have seen him. He beckoned a third time as he straightened up with the envelope in his hand. When he glanced around toward Rico and Dan, he saw that both of them were gone. As he stared around stupidly, he heard the sounds of someone climbing a fence. He ran to the side of the house and was just in time to see Dan going over. He snatched his pistol out and started to fire, but caught himself before pulling the trigger.
"Goddamn it," Tony cursed as he came running up, "what the hell happened?"
William shook his head. "I made the buy, then beckoned for you three times to come on and help me arrest them, but you must have missed the signal."
"Missed hell!" Tony mumbled, "you sure in the hell must have bent out of your way to signal me, 'cause I didn't see a fuckin' thing!"
"Well, at least we got the package," William said.
"Let's hope so," Tony growled. He took the white envelope out of William's hands and tore it open. He stuck his finger down inside it and tasted the white stuff on the end of his fingernail. He cursed and spit. "Goddamn it," he yelled as he gritted his jaws, "the bastards sold you a thousand dollars worth of baking soda!"
William jerked the envelope out of Tony's hand and quickly tasted the stuff. He spit it out. He looked down at his partner while he struggled with his thoughts. Here he had been taken like a young punk who had never purchased drugs before. It hurt his pride as well as everything else. He couldn't look Tony in the eye.
Cry Revenge (Holloway House Originals) Page 6
