White Lines

by Tom Fowler

  Aguilar and Rollins both nodded. “Yeah,” Tyler said. “We definitely want to. In fact, we want to hit it tonight.”

  36

  Héctor paced back and forth in his living room. His right hand held a Glock 17, and his left ran through his hair every few steps. He’d heard nothing about the shipment for far too long. The cartel sent a bunch of men to move and process everything. They were supposed to go back to Mexico, but Héctor was counting on Orlan to convince a few to come north. Even Orlan had been silent since last night. Héctor had called him a dozen times, and they all went to voicemail right away.

  The American mentioned something about Texas. Did he find out about the shipment? How could he know? Raul and Nataniel were dead. Maybe he learned from them. It would be just like a former soldier to torture someone for information. Still, he would have been cut to pieces against Orlan and the men from Mexico. The idea of him breaching the Iron Tower was laughable.

  Héctor, however, found nothing worth laughing about.

  “It could all be fine,” Rodolfo said from the couch.

  “Shut up.”

  “We don’t know why they’re not answering. Service could be bad down there.”

  “I said shut up!” Héctor stopped pacing and pointed the pistol at Rodolfo. “This is all your fault!” His cousin shrank back as much as the sofa would allow. “First, you can’t keep your girl in line, and then you go and kill her over some bullshit. If you handled your business, we’d be moving product and raking in the money right now.”

  “I told you—“

  “Don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry,” Héctor said. “Not again.” His hand shook as he held the gun on Rodolfo. “Your father was always my favorite uncle. It’s why you’re still alive right now.”

  Rodolfo frowned and turned away. Héctor lowered the gun and resumed pacing. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, and he realized he’d neglected to eat since dinner last night . . . almost a full day ago. At some point, he’d need to put his nerves aside for a moment and get some food. No wonder he felt weak holding the Glock. Héctor’s phone ringing snapped him from his thoughts. He looked eagerly at the screen and then scowled when he saw the call originated in Mexico. He declined it, which only worked briefly. Five minutes later, he picked up. “Héctor, how are things?” Tomás said.

  Héctor cleared his throat and tried to inject some confidence into his voice. “Fine.” He sounded good to his own ears.

  “Why didn’t you answer when I called the first time?”

  “I was in the bathroom,” Héctor said.

  Tomás changed the subject. “Did the shipment arrive?”

  “It’s been processed. It’ll be in Maryland soon.”

  “It’s not there yet?”

  “Orlan is being cautious,” Héctor said. He took a chance Tomás didn’t know much about the shipment yet. The cartel sent a bunch of men. As far as Héctor knew, none of them would be making their return trips. Did the cartel try to reach any of them? Was Tomás calling because he had many of the same concerns? Héctor wiped sweat from his brow despite the house being pleasantly cool.

  “I hope so,” Tomás said, and Héctor winced at the skepticism he heard. If they caught on to what really happened, he was screwed. The cartel couldn’t get into the Iron Tower, however. Their ability to gather intelligence would be limited. The security footage last night all looked normal. “Let me know when you have everything.”

  “I will.” Tomás hung up. Héctor sighed and slipped his phone back into his pocket. Despite knowing it was futile, he dialed Orlan again.

  It went right to voicemail.

  Under cover of darkness, Tyler, Rollins, and Aguilar drove to Windholm Construction Supply in Aguilar’s SUV. It sat on a large lot off Route 7 near White Marsh. If the cartel kept money or drugs here, getting them to Bel Air would only take about twenty minutes. Windholm owned a large property encircled by a tall chain-link fence. The barrier lacked a gate, however, and anyone who wanted to could approach. Locked buildings and good security would deter anything more. Most of the time. Aguilar steered down the driveway. A long main structure was on the right, and a bunch of freestanding garages surrounded it on all sides.

  Rollins dialed C.T. Ferguson. “We’re in,” he said when his friend picked up.

  “Good. I’ve looked into this Windholm. He’s pretty impressed with himself on social media. When he opened the company, he posted a picture outside the main office. A sticker in the window identified his alarm company.”

  “Nice work.”

  “Thanks,” C.T. said, “but it’s incomplete. What I don’t know is which model he uses.”

  “Why does it matter?” Tyler asked.

  “There are default credentials for all of them. None are the same. Most places never disable those built-in accounts, so I’m counting on them to work. The challenge is I’ll need you to get inside and tell me the model on the control box. Then, I can give you a code which should disarm it.”

  “Should?”

  “I think we’re looking at a ninety percent chance of success,” C.T. said. “The more you all stand around and dilly-dally, though, it drops.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Rollins said. “We can get into the main office.”

  “I have a snap gun,” Tyler offered. He dug it out of the small bag he brought. “Let’s go.” The three got out of the vehicle and approached. “Any cameras we should worry about?”

  “Yes,” C.T. said. “Once I know what model the system is, I can help you with them. Considering what they might store here, I doubt Windholm has someone watching. He doesn’t want a backhoe guy finding a bunch of coke.”

  “I hope you’re right.” The main building looked like a long trailer. Its beige siding was still in good repair. A prominent sign displaying the company name hung to the left of the door. There were only a few windows and none more than ten feet from the entrance. Most of the square footage must have been for storage. Tyler walked up three steps. He opened the lock with the snap gun in short order. As he entered, an alarm blared.

  Tyler grimaced and searched the interior walls. He found the alarm control panel to the right of the door. “It’s a model three thousand,” he shouted over the shrill siren.

  Rollins took a few steps back and relayed the information. Tyler put his hands over his ears. A few seconds later, the alarm fell silent. Tyler took a deep breath. “System’s off,” Rollins said, “and this one doesn’t have a timer on it.”

  “One thing to note,” C.T. said. “I can clear the camera footage, but everything I do gets logged.”

  “Can’t you erase the records?” Tyler asked.

  “Sure. And then there’s an entry in a brand new log showing what I just did. I could get rid of the new one, too, but then we’re in an infinite loop.”

  “You think anyone’s gonna look?” Tyler flicked the lights on. Two desks and chairs occupied most of the space. Neither even had a computer on top. A closed office displayed Windholm’s nameplate beside it. Past the reception area, a large door led to the rest of the building.

  “Maybe,” C.T. said. “It won’t tell them much. I’m using the default account, so it’s not attributable. They won’t know any of us are involved.”

  Rollins walked inside. “I think we’re good from here. We’ll call back if something goes pear-shaped.”

  “I’ll await your call, then.”

  “Very funny,” Rollins said, and he hung up.

  Aguilar slipped inside and closed the door behind him. “I didn’t see anyone around, but lots of little buildings to check will take time.”

  “They’re the right size for construction vehicles,” Tyler said.

  “Sure. Or a pallet or two of cash.”

  “Let’s look here first.” Tyler approached the large black door. The snap gun bypassed it quickly. Rollins and Aguilar stood nearby with their pistols ready. Tyler glanced at them, and both men nodded. He pulled the door open and stepped to the side. Rollins walked in and stepped to th
e left. Aguilar went right. Tyler drew his Sig and entered behind them. This area was one large room. Light from the main area illuminated the first few feet. The rest remained bathed in darkness. “I’m going to hit the lights,” Tyler whispered.

  “Roger,” came two replies in stereo.

  The blackness parted. A row of bulldozers lined the left side. The three men cleared the area. Two large metal cabinets were the only other things in the area. Tyler popped the first with his snap gun. It held an impressive arsenal of weapons. “Nice. Anyone need to go gun shopping while we’re here?”

  “I’ve always wanted a MAC-10,” Aguilar said as he grabbed one and a pouch of magazines loaded with 9MM ammo. “I guess they need to be prepared in case someone hits this place.”

  “I guess.” Tyler opened the remaining case. Shrink-wrapped stacks of cash covered every available square inch of the interior. “Could be a few million in here. Let’s load it up.” Tyler and Rollins carried the money while Aguilar guarded them with his new automatic weapon. Five minutes later, they’d emptied the cabinet and filled up the rear of Aguilar’s SUV.

  “We burning this place?” Rollins said.

  Tyler shook his head. “They’ll know about it soon enough. Let’s get out of here.” They climbed back into the Durango and left.

  After piling up the money in Tyler’s basement, the trio retired to the kitchen. Despite the late hour, Tyler put a pot of coffee on. No one objected. At this point, he could drink it any time and still sleep at night. Once it finished and everyone had a full mug, Tyler dug a burner phone out of a kitchen drawer. “I’m going to call Héctor.”

  “Why not make him sweat a little longer?” Aguilar said. “He’s gotta be feeling the heat from Mexico right now.”

  “I don’t want them to take him out. If anyone kills the son of a bitch, it’s gonna be me.” He found the video of the burning drugs and sent it to the cheap mobile. Once Tyler saved the file, he dialed Héctor’s number from memory.

  “Who is this?”

  “You know very well who it is, Héctor.”

  The line went silent for a few seconds. Then, Héctor said, “I should have known. You are a big pain in my ass, Mister Tyler.”

  “I won’t be much longer. You’re going to be dead.”

  “Am I?”

  “Sure,” Tyler said. “Even if I don’t do it, I imagine your overlords in Mexico have a few questions about the shipment.” He set the phone down long enough to text Héctor the video. “You can see what happened to a lot of it right there.”

  The connection went quiet again. “Those are my drugs!” Héctor yelled several seconds later.

  “They were,” Tyler said.

  “¡Eres hombre muerto!”

  “Not even original, Héctor. Besides, you’ve had a few chances to take me out, and all you’ve gotten for your efforts is a bunch of hombres muertos of your own. Orlan was your best chance against me. It was nice of you to send him to Houston, by the way. I beat him down and killed him with his own grenade. I only wish I would’ve had a chance to cram it down his throat first.”

  “What do you want, Tyler?” Héctor growled.

  “Glad you asked. I have the rest of your drugs from Houston. I also have the cash you kept at your buddy Windholm’s.”

  “I’ll—“

  “You’ll shut up and listen,” Tyler said. “They’re in a safe place, and I don’t think you have enough men left to come after me. Unless you want your Mexican friends to torture you for a week, you’ll consider what I’m about to offer you.”

  Héctor’s sigh hissed in Tyler’s ear. “I’m listening.”

  “Good. Here are the terms, and they’re not negotiable. I’ll give you back all the drugs and most of the money. I’m going to keep a little for all the trouble you’ve put me through.”

  “Let me guess,” Héctor said, “you want me to leave Maryland in exchange.”

  “Yes,” Tyler said, “but it’s not all. I want safe passage in and out of your complex, you and your asshole friends out of the state, and a guarantee you and the cartel won’t come after me or anyone I know.”

  Héctor laughed. “You expect me to say yes? I think you overestimate yourself, Mister Tyler.”

  “Fine. Take your chances with the cartel, then. I’m sure they’ll be very understanding.” Tyler hung up.

  “What are you doing?” Rollins asked.

  “We have him by the short hairs.” Tyler shrugged. “He’ll call back. He needs to take this deal to save his own ass no matter how much he hates it.” The phone remained silent. “My guess is he’ll wait a few minutes to try and save face, but we’ll hear from him again.” Tyler heated his coffee in the microwave and took a sip. He set a box of protein bars on the table, and everyone snagged one.

  Five minutes after Tyler hung up on him, Héctor called back. “All right,” he said, “I don’t like your deal, but I’ve given it some thought.”

  “I figured you would.”

  “I agree to your terms. Come to my house tomorrow night at nine. You give me the drugs and money, and I’ll uphold my end of the bargain.”

  “Great,” Tyler said. “See you then.” He broke the connection again.

  “You know it’s gonna be a trap, right?” Rollins confirmed.

  “Sure.” Tyler grinned. “I have a plan.” He removed two short stacks of cash from his pockets. He set them down in front of Aguilar. “You’ve been a great help, and I can’t thank you enough. We probably couldn’t have done this without you. I got it from here, though.”

  Aguilar picked up the bills. “It’s drug money.”

  “Go do something good with it, then. Redeem it.”

  He nodded and stood. “I suppose I can.” Aguilar held out his hand, and Tyler shook it. “It’s been great working with you. I think we put a big dent in the cartel.”

  “And I’m going to turn it into a big smoking hole from here,” Tyler said. He glanced at Rollins. “Maybe with one more bit of help.”

  “You need something like this again,” Aguilar said, “you call me.”

  “Likewise.”

  Aguilar shook hands with Rollins and left. The Durango fired up and drove away. “One more bit of help?” Rollins repeated.

  Tyler nodded. “I’m going to Héctor’s alone. I know you’re not feeling a hundred percent right now, and I’ll be able to handle it . . . if you do one part of the plan with me first.”

  37

  Zeke stared at Lexi as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She’d put on new jeans, a black Maryland hoodie, and wore her hair in a ponytail. “You’re going somewhere,” the old man said.

  She went to classes in yoga pants or sweats. Her grandfather caught on. “I sure am.” Lexi rummaged through the fridge. With two people eating Zeke’s food, his supplies grew strained. Lexi hoped she wouldn’t need to be here much longer. Spending time with her grandfather was nice, but she lived with her dad. She pulled a half-gallon of milk from the top shelf and poured it into a bowl. She found and added the cereal afterward.

  “Most people do it in the opposite order,” Zeke said.

  “I’m my father’s daughter,” Lexi said. “I’m not most people.”

  “You got that right.” He paused. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to see your mother again?”

  “Because I am.” Lexi ate her cereal. It didn’t live up to the mega crunch advertised on the package. Considering how long it might have been in her grandpa’s pantry, she couldn’t complain. “You were right. They’re both shady, and I’m onto them. It’s going to blow up in their faces.”

  “I’m sorry you had to find out about your mother this way.”

  Lexi shrugged. “I’d suspected something for a while. You never really want to believe the worst about your parents, though.” She took another bite. “At least I ended up with one good one.” Lexi finished her breakfast and took her gun with her to the car. She didn’t notice anyone unusual hanging around. By now, she knew her dad was back from Texas
. He’d been cagey about everything else, but she knew he’d devise a plan to finish the cartel’s presence in Maryland.

  Before reaching the correctional facility, Lexi stashed the pistol in the locked glove compartment. She went through the mantrap and signed in like the first time. The same guard led Lexi to the waiting room. Every eye flicked to her as she walked in, and for a second, she felt like she intruded on several private conversations. No one paid her any mind, however, and she slid onto a seat. Another guard brought her mother in a moment later.

  “Alexis, it’s so great to see you again.” Rachel smiled, and she possessed the nerve to make it look sincere.

  Be strong, Lexi chided herself. These two are after your dad. “You too, Mom. I thought Uncle George was coming today.”

  “He is.” Her mother glanced at the clock. “Looks like he’s running a few minutes late . . . as usual. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you again, too.”

  Lexi bit down a snide remark and plastered a grin on her face. “I hadn’t seen him in a while.”

  “Your father should make sure you keep in touch with people,” Rachel said.

  “Uncle George is an adult, Mom. Besides, I’m in school. What’s his excuse?”

  “I’m sure he’s a busy man. You’ll find out how it is when you’re older.”

  Again, Lexi swallowed what she really wanted to say. This time, she opted for silence. The door opened a minute later, and Uncle George walked in. “There they are,” he said loudly enough to earn a few glares from people talking nearby.

  After a round of quick hugs, everyone took their seats. “I’m surprised you’re both here again so soon,” Rachel said.

  Uncle George jerked his thumb toward Lexi. “She wanted to see us both. I guess we’re kinda like a two-for-one deal.”

  Lexi spread her hands. She didn’t want to drop the hammer on them so soon. “It’s been a while since we were all in the same room before last week is all.”