Strap a man naked to a chair,
cinch a copper
cable around his dick and balls, run that copper to a Sears Die Hard, fire it
up, watch the fire erupt, strike like roaring, fucking flames from the Hammer
of Thor, blasting the anvil, ignore the screams, ignore the teeth cracking, that
man will claw the truth out of the bricks with his bloody finger nails.
That is Most Men.
Not one Man.
Mal endorsed the pain, reveled
in it, for
laying in a stifling ditch with the only woman he had ever loved outside of
Rio, a young Costa Rican girl, her hands and feet severed from her body, by the
cops, to get the gold, rotting, bloating in the Sun, well that changes a man.
Three years earlier he had
not yet become Mal,
for his first step into Mexico, then the drive to Rio, 3 years, so many deaths
behind him had changed him. A pimp in a Panama casino had adopted him, thought
the Crazy American Gringo was a radical dude, and after the dead man in the
trunk, he had renamed Jamie Brooke, Mal.
The three cops had then
recaptured him when
they found out he was still alive, had taken him to a warehouse and had
tortured him in a prison cell, for they wanted the money, from the Golden VW
van, but of course a dead man tells no tales.
The cops fucked up, didn’t
murder him, they set
him free, forgetting that some men have dangerous, fucking ogres for friends,
lethal, gabacho loyal maniacs, killer amigos that have a sense of loco honor,
and don’t take it lightly when fucking cops hurt one of their friends.
Thus, the Panamanian gangster,
Bobby Caton, and
his enforcer, the 6 ft 8 enforcer the black Mako shark Lewis, had flown into
Rio, kidnapped the cops, took them to a warehouse, and watched as the new Mal
put bullets into their heads.
That was 25 years earlier,
and Mal had killed
more than his share of evil men and women and now settled in Vegas, where an
Artist of unimaginable talent with a lethal past, could dissolve and he had
thought all of that had been behind him. A lifetime diamond thief, hashish smuggler
out of Ketama, Morocco, arms smuggler, killer, well that was behind him he
supposed, but if it was, then he wondered what was he was doing in Tijuana,
sitting in a armored ‘89 Caprice, with five pounds of C-4 in the trunk, Ak-47’s,
shotguns and Ar-15’s, not to mention loads of automatic hand guns all owned by
the most stunning and dangerous teak-skinned ex-CIA Contract Killer ever
aborted out of The Agency, named Pilar.
the women Mal loved in Vegas, Mandal, the gorgeous blond ex-whore, hit woman
for the New Jersey mob, Pilar was a stunning teak-skinned waif ex- contract
killer for the CIA.
The hookup in Tijuana had
Mal’s woman, Mandal’s
Hispanic housekeeper’s 18-year-old
American daughter, had been abducted in TJ, by Zeta cartel human traffickers.
Help had been asked for.
Help had been given.
Mal called his ex-Panama
gangster friend, now
retired on a beach in La Paz Mexico and called in a favor.
All Bobby Caton had said
to Mal was: “What the
fuck bro, I thought you was done with the gabacho fucking shit life, you sure
you want this?”
Mal has simply said. “Yes.”
Bobby told him to hang tight,
he’s call back in
The call came, Mal took
down the info, fired up
his dual prop King Air, loaded it with weapons, passports, a ton of cash and
flew into Tijuana International airport.
Once there, he connected
to one of Bobby’s
friend, the head Mexican Immigration official, all smiles, waiting for him.
20 grand layered into his
hand, he passed right
through, weapons, cash, false Id’s and had, as instructed, hooked up with
Pilar, the stunning, teak-skinned, assassin for the CIA, at a local club, whore
house, highly stylized club, Live Lula.
Since they both spoke Arabic,
themselves as an Arab couple, looking for their lost friend. Mal flashed the
photo of the abducted Maria to the bartender, gave him a grand, his motel room
number across the street, then with Pilar in tow, vanished, knowing they had
just set the gears in play to a world of death and homicide, perhaps their own.
Unique, lone wolf killers,
Mal and Pilar fit
that bill to a tee, had bonded together instantly. Great whites are solo
hunters, but in each other, they saw valor, truth and above honor.
That honor told a story.
Sometimes a bullet in the
head, or the threat
of one, wakes a dude up, gets the truth out faster than all the courts on the
First thing first.
Pilar had tapped into the
Live Lula phones,
found the two corrupt TJ cops’ home address. They had arrived, Pilar holding a
Pizza, Mal a shotgun, a Walther PPK, silenced, down the door went, both Cops
surprised, for Pizza delivery girls usually didn’t hold Berettas, and didn’t
have an amigo that looked like a six-foot- two slice of granite, 16-gauge
nestled in his arm.
Pilar and Mal were no-nonsense
kinda killers. They
went to work, got the info on Maria, where she had gone, on the food chain,
they then shot the cops dead, shared a slice, and moved on.
Great Whites don’t
linger after the kill, they
cruise, going for the next meal and they had done their work, and now were
sitting in Pilar’s armor-plated sedan, in an alley, next step, well, more
death, maybe their own.
minutes earlier, they had cruised the condo, saw the armed cartel guards, Pilar
had done some snooping, chatted them up, got what she needed. Mal and her were
ready to roll.
She reached back, found her shoulder
holsters and guns, slipped them on, secured them along her black body shirt.
Finding her black, double-breasted, leather coat, she threw the blanket into
the back seat, struggled into the coat. Back to normal, she looked down at the
closed laptop that was lying on the console between them. Opening the laptop,
she began to type as she whispered and pointed.
“Alley in back of building. Quiet, good.
Pilar talk to guards. Men, typico, Mexicano. Rooster chests, macho…Like Pilar,
much. Brag they important men. Guard important jefe. Second floor. They talk
tough, big ego…want to fuck me…I tell them meet me at Mexico Linda, later…Maybe
yes, maybe no. Maybe they problem…I not worry…Here…we go in here.”
Turning the laptop so Mal could look at
the information glowing back from the web page on the screen that she just had
called up, she pointed at the diagram of the Maccas Condominium as she
“See…Tijuana Planning Commission…All
building, blue prints must go through here. Mal, understand technical
Nodding, Mal slightly shook his head back
and forth at her expertise, then said through a half smile, “Yes.”
“Good. We go in, from rooftop. Down this.”
She pointed to a ladder leading down a chute from the roof. “Open door, go down
hall, very quiet…Enter Maccas place, have conversation, maybe find girl, if she
not gone yet. But first we recon. See what inside Condo. Maybe more men, do not
know. You ready Mal?”
“Once again. Your work amazes me. Yes, I’m
Smiling from his compliment, she extended
her finger, punched the numbers into the key pad, then twisted the key.
The engine rumbled to life as she placed
the car in first and edged down the street. At the end of the avenida, she hung
a left, moved down a half block, swung left into the alley. Once along-side the
back of the condominium, she killed the engine, peeked up and down the alley,
turned to her back seat.
Digging around in her girl stuff, she
retrieved a black cylinder canvas bag about a meter long. Handing it to Mal,
she returned to the back seat, found a black backpack, and then turning, she
glanced at the monitor of the laptop, printed the diagram in her head, closed
it and then turned to Mal as she pulled her pack out of the back seat.
“Bring Mossberg and Sig Sauer.”
Nodding, Mal watched as she opened the
door, and with her black backpack in hand, moved out of the car. Mal, opening
the passenger door and carrying the cylinder bag, exited the car, and then
moved along side of her. It was cold and Mal could see his breath fogging as
well as Pilar’s. The alley stretched two blocks before them and had many
plastic trash bags as well as dumpsters aligned along the asphalt. Mal could
smell rotting garbage and it did nothing more than to intensify his senses.
Like a cat, Pilar bent to her knees, and
then extended her hand for Mal to give the cylindrical bag. Handing her the
bag, she then unzipped it, pulled something out of it. Immediately, Mal saw
that it was a very high-tech bow and arrow set up, which was folded in half at
a hinge bolted in the middle of the black affair.
Assembling it, she stood, showed it to
Mal, smiled proudly. The carbon fiber bow, one used by Olympians, had high tensile
wire and thin cables running across it to give it the proper tension, which was
considerable. Bending, she retrieved an arrow ensemble, except where the arrow
point was, there was a collapsible, four- pronged grappling hook attached to
the tip and a black, knotted line attached to a hinge at the back of the arrow’s
Turning to Mal, she again smiled, as she
opened the small grappling hook, pointed with a gloved finger at one of the
four-point ends on it. “Carbon fiber, rubber tip, with stainless steel point.
Very quiet, strong, you see.”
Before Mal could tell her that he loved
her, at least in his own eclectic way, she peeled off her heavy, black leather
coat, allowed it to fall to the asphalt. Adjusting both Berettas that were
hanging under her arms by the shoulder holsters, she took Mal’s black backpack
and then bent, unzipped it and shoved her coat into the pack.
Rising, she turned to Mal and with a
mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she raised the bow, slotted the black arrow
into the slot, reared back, raised the bow into the sky, and then aimed it.
Mal’s eyes went wide, for her bare arms
were cut with muscles and he could see her collarbones as they seemed to almost
pop out of her body, and then he stared at her forearms popping as they melted
into her powerful wrists and then her black leather gloves. Then, as if she
were a female Robin Hood, she released the arrow and it went. “Swoooosh.”
From the bow’s bag the black line smoked
out of the case as loop after loop straightened as the arrow whizzed up and
over the roof. Handing the bow to Mal, she then gripped the line in her black
leather gloves and then began to retrieve the black, knotted rope. The
grappling hooks seemed to catch on something on the roof, and feeling it, she
gave the rope one last tug.
Looking at Mal, she glanced at the shotgun
in his hand, thought for a moment, then bent, unassembled the bow set, re-stashed
it into its proper bag, then reached down, picked up the black backpack,
shouldered it, winked at Mal, and whispered. “Mal wait for Pilar sign. Bring
arrow bag, Mossberg, be right back.”
He was about to say okay, but she was gone
before he could do so.
Like some kind of efficacious human
Gibbon, she took the rope in her gloved hands, and straddling it, she monkey-walked
up the side of the condominium like one of her Darwinian cousins, reached the
top, and then disappeared from Mal’s sight.
Once up there, Mal watched as the rope
began to unspool out of a hole of the arrow bag he was holding in his hands.
From nowhere, there appeared a black, exotic rope-like substance, attached to a
rope ladder began to unravel higher towards the roof.
Once the black rope ladder was set over
the building’s lip, Mal smiled as Pilar’s face beamed over the edge, and as she
smiled, her hand waved at him to begin climbing. Mal grinned to himself, for he
had done a lot of dangerous and illegal stuff most of his life, including
murder. He had been a drug and arms smuggler, he had even lived as a jewel
fence once, but never had he enjoyed himself this much. In every thieve’s mind,
cat burglar stuff is at the top of the list, and he had to admit he was having
Shouldering the Mossberg and the arrow kit
over the same shoulder, he shoved his handgun a little deeper into the belt of
his jeans, grabbed the rungs of the ladder in his gloved fingers, and powered
himself easily up the ladder and onto the roof.
Instantly, Pilar, heavy double-breasted
Leather jacket back on to shun the cold, leaned in and pulled the rope ladder
back onto the roof. Taking the Arrow kit bag from Mal, she bent to a knee,
unzipped it, and the placed the rope and the rope ladder back into it.
As she did her thing, Mal turned his eyes
to the horizon, where the bright city lights of Tijuana glistened like neon
jewels everywhere. Finishing stowing her stuff, she straightened and turning to
Mal, she giggled. “Fun, yes, Mal?”
Chuckling, Mal said. “You’re like James
Reaching forward and allowing her
wonderful sense of humor to be exposed for the first time, she pinched his
cheek between her forefinger and thumb and said. “Bond, he not real. Pilar, she
They shared the fun moment together, then
she released his face, and said. “Now, watch. We find out what going on
Bending to her black backpack, she
unzipped it and then began to pull stuff out of it. From the bag, she took what
to Mal’s eyes seemed to be some kind of carbon fiber trapeze setup, which was
attached to a black, electric motor and had a heavy clamp assembly attached to
it. After she had the complete thingamajig laid out on the roof, she lifted the
clamp and two-meter bar in her gloved hand, stood and then scrutinized it.
Without hesitation, she extended the black
bar, so it shot out over the open space of the building’s wall. Adjusting the
stout clamps, she slotted them onto the building’s edge, and then tightened the
two clamps to it. Attached to the two-meter bar was another bar and a phalange
of black rope and again Mal thought it looked like something a trapeze artist
might use within their high-flying act, at some odd circus somewhere in the
Bending, she then withdrew a heavy black
canvass harness assembly. Once again, she peeled off her double-breasted coat
and her shoulder holsters, allowing them to fall to the rooftop. Mal saw tiny
goose bumps appear on her bare arms and neck, and he hoped that she wasn’t
going to catch a cold, or for that matter, a bullet before all was said and
done. Placing the harness around her shoulders, she then stitched the heavy
belt along her narrow waist, gave them both a tug, then to Mal’s amazement, she
put one of her soft soled feet on the edge of the building, and then leapt off
of the building edge.
Once airborne, she fell a meter, caught
the carbon fiber bar with both hands that were welded against her waist.
Completely blown away, Mal gasped as she then did a spin on the bar,
straightened, released the bar and landed softly onto the roof, flexing her
knees as she did.
Perhaps she was showing off for the only
friend she had ever had in the world, perhaps not, but as she straightened, she
smiled gaily at Mal, as she whispered. “Perfect. Pilar, once a gymnast,
sometime use that talent.”
Shaking his head back and forth, Mal
grinned as he said in awe. “I guess so.”
Giggling, Pilar said again through a
mischievous smile. “You want to try, Mal?”
“No…No, I think I’ll leave the hard stuff
Giggling, she punched him in the arm,
turned and bent to the pack again. As Mal watched, she withdrew a small remote
control with two long black cables attached to it. On one of the shoulder
straps of her harness was a Velcro patch, which she then connected the remote
control to. Turning to the small, black motor connected to the winch ensemble,
she plugged it in, spooled out some cable, then took the free cable and
connected it by Velcro to her other shoulder harness strap.
Looking like some half-human half-cyborg
creature from the movie Matrix Reloaded, she bent back to the case, and then
withdrew a small Digital Cam- Corder, which appeared to Mal’s eyes to have
several tiny little tentacles, octopus suction cones attached to it. Handing it
to Mal, she moved to the edge of the building, and then turned to him. “Give
slack, as Pilar descend…Please.”
Mal nodded, and then watched as she
attached the Digital camera to more Velcro on her shoulder harness. Almost
unable to believe his own eyes, he then watched as she extended her hand to the
bar, unspooled the trapeze bar, and then allowed it to dangle in the night air,
as she, in a crouch, leaped onto the building’s edge into a crouch. Her eyes
swept up and down the alley, and then seeing all was well, she jumped forward,
and as she had done before, she came to rest with her fists holding the bar,
just at her waist.
As she lowered her hands to the lower bar,
and as she attached it by heavy rings to her waist harness, Mal ran his hand
over his head, wondering if what he was seeing, was a reality. He had done a
lot of nifty thieving in his life, but nothing remotely as cool as what the
girl was doing.
seen all the movies, where guys unrealistically hung on ropes in museums and
such, but this was not a movie, and as he scratched his unshaven jaw, he had to
remind himself that the amazing girl was actually doing what she was doing.
He then gasped, for instantly she released
the bar, went vertical, and now hanging upside down, feet pressed directly into
the night sky, he watched as her gloved finger came to the remote on her shoulder
harness, and pressed a button. The electric motor began to whir on the roof
edge as she descended down and down along the buildings wall.
Moving to the precipice, Mal, almost
laughing, watched as the girl moved down the wall like some kind of spider, the
two cables trailing behind her. Then, once at the edge of a huge bay window,
she stalled, her eyes just below the window’s edge. Looking down at her, he
watched as she took the tiny camera, and then pressed it against the massive
window, lens pointing, he assumed, at whatever or whomever was in the condo.
The motor began to whir again, and he shook his head as he watched the winch
spool the line and Pilar back to the roof.
Once there, she grabbed the extended bar
above her, unhinged her waist fasteners, pulled up, did a spin just for the
heck of it, and with her upward momentum pushing her, she then landed silently
on her boot soles back to the roof. Neither talking, nor looking at Mal, she
bent, withdrew what looked like a small Blackberry from the pack, coupled it to
the free cable, and then flicked it on.
The screen went to life. She motioned Mal
to look and as she pointed at it, she took a small joystick on the monitor,
moved it around, then whispered. “There he is. He with woman, we watch for
minute, see if other there.”
Then she shuddered as her teeth began to
chatter again and she gave the video monitor to Mal to hold. Bending, she
grabbed her shoulder holster, re- shouldered it and then placed her heavy
leather coat on, zipped it up, re-buttoned the double breasts, then turned and
peeked at the monitor, as she whispered. “What you see, Mal?”
“Yes, he’s partying. I see a girl, naked.
They’re dancing…there you go, they like coke too. ” Then he giggled. “His
outfit is a little suspect.”
Looking at the video image, Pilar groaned.
Maccas was about five-foot seven, brown skinned, about two hundred pounds, and
seemed in a gregarious mood. He had a beach ball for a belly, which flopped
over a red G-string, fashion disaster, mostly seen on the beaches of Colombia,
Venezuela and other South American countries, where fat meant that a man was a
man of importance and was a desirable thing, for he could feed himself.
stranger to gluttonous men, for she had obliterated her fair share of them,
Pilar then seethed, as she saw a most beautiful, white skinned, naked girl
dancing to music, which obviously was sprinkling through the condo. “Pilar
no like this man. She see many just
like him. Pilar angry, for if he hurt girl. He dead already, he just don’t know
Mal heard the growl in her voice, and once
again he knew that perhaps her words were very bad news for Senor Maccas, who
seemed to like dancing, for he was doing his share of it down in the garishly
decorated condo below them. Growing silent, they watched for another few
minutes, then Pilar switched off the video, and turned to Mal with a look he
had not quite seen before within her brown eyes. “We go now, Mal. We talk to
this, pig. No kill, talk first, okay?”
“Yes, of course.”
Bending to the bag, she dug around it, and
then withdrew a fifty-thousand- volt Taser gun from it, showed it to Mal, then
laced it into her jacket pocket.
“We Taser him, then chat.”
“I like it.”
“Okay, leave bags on roof, maybe we get
later, maybe not. Bring Mossberg and Sig Sauer, you ready, friend?”
Nodding at her, Mal ground his jaw,
bringing him back to the hard work at hand. Staring at his gun, he ejected the
clip, found a full one in the pocket of his sweatshirt, and rammed it into the
gun’s grip, chambered a bullet, and then whispered. “Ready, beauty.”
Smiling at his words, she bent to the bag
one last time, pulled something out of it, shoved it into her heavy coat,
stood, turned and then crept along the roof top. Mal followed close behind her
as she did.
Moving across the roof, she then bent at a
stout hatch door that was hinged to the roof, and was secured with a rusted
padlock. As Mal crouched along side of her, she then whispered. “Just as I
Reaching into the pocket of her leather
coat, she pulled out a small torch. Attached to the handle was a flint device,
which she then took, and after adjusting the flow of gas, she clicked it. The
flint sparked, the torch pooled out a small yellow/blue flame from its brass
nozzle. Taking no more than thirty seconds, she easily cut through the lock,
took her gloved fingers and after gingerly removing the lock from its clasp,
quietly laid it on the rooftop.
From another pocket, she took a small can
of gear oil, applied it to the rusted hinges. She lifted the hatch, heard a
small squeak, applied a little more gear oil, then repeated the procedure.
Hearing no squeaks, she lifted the hatch, and again, careful not to make a
peep, she laid it along the roof. From the bottom of the hatch, Mal could see
lights and the rungs of an iron ladder leading down to the fourth floor.
Turning, Pilar pressed her gloved forefinger to her lips, telling Mal to remain
In semi-awe, Mal watched as she then dug
into her other pocket, and once there she retrieved a pair of stout goggles,
that had a fiber optic cable plugged into the side of them. Hanging from them
in a spool was about four meters of thin, black fiber optic cable. Pressing a
button on the side of the goggles, Mal saw a tiny green light begin to strobe.
Within a moment, she had the spool of
flexible cable straightened into a line. Ever so carefully she spooled the
fiber optic cable down past the iron ladder rungs, so the small optic lens at
the tip of the cable was poking, just barely into the hallway.
“Ahh, good. No surveillance camera, okay,
Pulling the cable out of the chute, she
laid it, as well as the goggles onto the roof, turned to Mal and whispered.
“Stuff, easy to replace. Life, not so easy. Okay, follow Pilar.”
Feeling his adrenaline pumping and having
basically a surreal experience, Mal watched as she climbed down the ladder.
Once she was down, he slung the Mossberg along his shoulder, and followed her
down the iron rungs to the hallway of the fourth floor.
The fourth floor hallway was lightly lit,
and Pilar had not hesitated after seeing that it was secure. Turning left, Mal
followed her to a stairwell and after they had quietly moved down two sets of
stairs they came to a heavy fire door, that was closed on the second floor, but
was not locked.
Opening the door, Pilar peeked her head
out, stared down the light green carpeted hallway, turned to Mal, and as she
pulled out her Taser in one gloved hand, she dug in her pocket and withdrew her
silenced 9-milllimeter in the other. Looking at Mal, she whispered. “Okay, you
Nodding, Mal slowly and quietly chambered
a shotgun shell into the breech of the Mossberg. He then pulled his Sig Sauer
out of his waistband, gripped it in his black gloved hands, and whispered.
Pilar nodded at him, slipped through the
door and with Mal following her they tiptoed down the hallway, until they were
facing the door of Maccas’s condominium. Standing there, they could hear music
and a woman laughing filtering through the door.
Ever so slowly, Pilar tucked the Taser
under her arm, wrapped her gloved hand around the doorknob, gave it a little
twist, and then seeing that the door was not locked, she returned it to its
original position “Good, not locked. He get lazy.”
Mal, feeling his heart pumping and
actually enjoying the moment, nodded to her words.
“Okay…Three, we go…One, two three.”
Pilar twisted the doorknob and quietly
opened the door, and then slid through the door as Mal followed her inside.
OUTSIDE IN front of the Condominium, the
two burly guards, smoking and flapping their arms tying to stay warm in their
heavy leather jackets, suddenly blinked their heavy-lidded eyes.
thick waists, just along the holsters that were carrying their handguns, two
small cell phones began to buzz. Both Mexican men turned, stared at each other
a little confused, and then in unison whispered. “Maccas.” Instantly they
withdrew their military-issued .45-caliber handguns, turned and rushed through
the door, banked hard at a stairwell and began to run towards their benefactor’s
condominium, thus proving that sometimes even the most best-laid plans are just
not planned well enough.
Tito Maccas was a demi-God within himself. He
was a bit cranky, for the Lear jet had been delayed, which would be delivering
the trafficked girl to Mexico City, including the prize, the young American
girl Maria, was late. Then he smiled, as the call came and the Jet was in
flight, to land in TJ International within the moment, so his mind turned to
He thought about it further.
girls were delivered, Manuel Mata, who ran the Human Trafficking Division of
the Orta’s diverse empire, would, mostly through his well-organized underlings,
get the girls to Doctor Trinidad, a conjurer with a scalpel. Maccas assumed
that the girls had already been sold and were on their way to the Middle East,
most likely Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, or Qatar. Once there they would live the rest
of their lives out as human sex slaves for men that appreciated such things.
Feeling better, Maccas turned and,
standing in his G-string, he glanced at his bedroom to his left, wondered what
was keeping his whore, and then he stared out the massive window at the lights
of Tijuana on the horizon. He felt the buzz from the cocaine and the tequila he
had been sipping for the last two hours, and remembering the blow job he had
gotten as a bonus from the terrified American girl, he felt almost giddy from
those thoughts. Placing his hand on his huge belly, he felt it jiggle as he
began to giggle, for he felt omnipotent, sexual and within his black beady
eyes, he saw a bright future, one in which life was just getting better all the
Moving a step, he bent to a smoked glass
table, where a mirror and about an ounce of coke and a small straw was set.
Of course, all that changed for him when
suddenly his front door opened and some kind of phantom thing entered,
crouched, sweeping her black, gloved hands that held pistols in them around the
room. Everything had been happening so fast, he then looked confused as his
heavy eyebrows furrowed, for right behind her was a tall, brown man with a
shaved head, who to his thinking did not have a friendly expression on his
face. In the guy’s gloved hand was a man-eating looking shotgun and in his
other hand was what appeared to him to be an automatic handgun.
Maccas was about to say something, when
the girl, he now saw that she was a girl, and probably the most beautiful girl
he had ever seen, extended her left arm, and pulled the trigger on her odd-looking
sparks blistered out of the guns tip and almost as if in slow motion he saw the
darts spitting at him and the tiny wires, attached from the gun’s barrel un-spooling
behind them directly towards him.
One moment a God, the next second a lit-up
Christmas tree, the important man watched as the darts impacted into his
sternum, just above his massive belly. His eyes exploded, as did his body as
the powerful current pulsed though his fat torso. Instantly, body vibrating and
out of control, his heavy knees buckled, and he, like a Jell-O mold, in
undulating sections fell to his back, where once on the floor he simply laid
Watching, Mal, shotgun extended, Sig Sauer
tensed in his hand and his eyes acting like a sonar pinging everywhere, he
looked at her now standing body as she turned her head, looked at him, smiled,
then playfully winked at him.
Mal was about to smile, when both he and
Pilar’s world fell into slow motion. Almost as if their lives were now film
clips of some D W Griffith hand- cranked celluloid movie, everything began to
unfold so slow, it was as if they were caught within suspended animation.
Moving from the open bedroom door was a
naked girl, and along her side was a black twelve-gauge shotgun.
Pilar was facing the girl with the now-rising
shotgun. She still had her silenced Beretta in her gloved right hand along her
right side, and as she glanced at the girl, the front door opened and the two
heavyset men in their black leather jackets entered.
Now, things fell to silence and every clip
of film seemed to crawl past them. Pilar’s eyes locked with Mal’s, and a micro-second
passed, as Mal looked at the girl, who film-clip by film-clip was raising the
It then ground even slower as Mal and
Pilar’s black eyes remained locked for another micro second, as Mal, hearing
the door, turned in slow motion, and saw the men raising their own guns, in his
direction. Pilar’s eyes jerked back and forth from the girl, who almost had the
shotgun level at her chest now. Back to Mal, then the men, as she watched as
Mal fell to a crouch, swung his arm around on the Mexican on his right. She
heard the “Pssst” as Mal then squeezed off two rounds, which caught the man in
the chest, sending him slashing into the wall behind him, and then to the
And now, as in any war, when two friends, comrades,
soldiers are faced with the decision whether to save a buddy, or seek their own
safety, Pilar choose the first. Seeing that the other man had his pistol barrel
just an inch from being focused on her friend, she ignored the naked girl with
the shotgun aimed directly at her chest. Mal thought he saw her eyes dart at
him, but then Pilar, still facing the girl, simply raised her arm from her
right side, pointing the Beretta at the man who was going to murder her friend.
One more micro second passed, and Mal,
knowing that he was dead now, watched to his astonishment as Pilar, ignoring
the fire that now was exploding out of the shotgun barrel, squeezed off one
round from her Beretta.
Mal gasped, as the bullet caught the man
in the forehead, sending him down. And then before he could turn, the lead
pellets from the twelve-gauge blasted into Pilar’s chest, ripping her backwards
across the room, where once against the wall, she fell to her rump, spread-eagled
on the floor.
With still a war to fight, Mal felt such
fury in his chest, that within the moment of such pain, he could only hear the
naked girl as she re-chambered another shell into the breech of the shotgun.
Mal dropped his shotgun, went into a roll, and as he flew to his knees and
began to focus his pistol barrel on the girl, another blast plumed from the
barrel of the girl’s gun.
Jerking right, Mal felt the left side of
his shoulder, neck and face burn, as several of the lead pellets pierced his
body, sending him to the floor, sprawled on his back. Blood began to seep into
his eyes and he could smell the cordite and it was so silent in the room, he
could hear every click as the girl pulled back the slide on the shotgun, and
having reloaded, began to turn the shotgun in his direction.
It was a race now, between him and the
girl, life, death and a bullet, and of course, as in all matters of death, a
pinpoint of time often determines who lives within such battles. Since handguns
are just plain simpler to wield, Mal on his back, lifted both hands, tried to
focus the gun on her, then because blood from a forehead wound was spilling
into his eyes, he swiped his eyes with the back of his gloved hand.
No time now, no time at all, and as he
lifted to barrel of the Sig Sauer, the girl slipped, just little, and as she
did, Mal fired, emptying his gun of his bullets as he did.
The girl screamed as three bullets, like
on a ladder’s rung hit her stomach, her sternum and then directly in her
throat. The force of the bullets sent her flailing backwards, her arms thrown
into the air. Back she went, until she hit the bed, where she flopped on her
back, as her legs and feet vibrated over the edge of the bed and she died.
Slowly Mal crawled to his knees, and
because he was a soldier, he checked his wounds. His muscled shoulder had taken
two pellets, yet though it hurt like hell, he knew he was all right there.
Peeling off his gloves, he checked his throat and forehead, where three other
pellets had grazed him. Looking at the blood on his hands, he swallowed his
warlike nature, took a piece of his sweatshirt, and then wiped his face as best
he could clean.
Not wanting to do it, he turned to Pilar,
who was slumped against the wall, her lovely chin bent against her chest. There
was blood on the side of her cheek, as well as her neck, but not a lot of
blood. The front of her black, double-breasted leather coat was shattered and
ripped apart, and he could only guess what damage had been to her tiny torso
Hearing a moan, he glanced at Maccas who
now was rolling around on the floor. Standing, he walked over to Pilar’s Taser,
picked it up, squeezed the trigger, which sent another jolt of electricity
along the wires. Maccas moaned in pain, his body twitched, jerked a couple of
times and then he went silent.
Turning back to Pilar, he moved to her,
fell to his knees, and simply stared at her. She still clutched her Beretta in
her right gloved hand, for combatants seldom go down without them. Ever so
slowly, he extended his fingers, pushed some wayward hair from her face, and
then he grew silent, as he pushed her face back off of her chest, and with so
much sorrow, simply gazed at that cold, remarkable face. Blood was seeping from
a pellet hole in her cheek and forehead, and it sickened him seeing her
perfection marred so.
Closing his eyes, he pushed the tears
away, for he now knew that another friend had fallen in his life, and that
friend was simply irreplaceable. As tears gathered in his eyes, he sat there
hunched over for several moments, and then he felt something on his cheek
foreign, and he thought it was more blood. His eyes opened, and there was
Pilar’s fingers touching his face and she was smiling, as she whispered.
“No sad, Mal. Pilar not dead…Look.”
Grinning from ear to ear, he watched as
she lifted the tip of the silencer, and almost comically opened the front of
the tattered leather coat.
“See…Special jacket…Kevlar, Second Chance.
How I look.”
Exhaling every ounce of grief he had, he
looked at her minor wounds on her cheek and forehead, then reached forward,
wrapped his arms around her, drew her in and hugged her furiously as he
whispered in her ear.
and remembering the water that had been gathering in his eyes as she had stared
at him crashing his soul just moments earlier, she felt his power and the hug
and she could not remember being so happy.
you, Mal…” She whispered, as Mal released her and put her at arm’s length.
her bloody and smiling face, Mal growled.
my life, Pilar. Why?”
and, then chuckling, she touched his wounds on his neck and face, glanced at
the blood seeping from his shoulder through the sweatshirt, wiped a little
blood from them with her gloved fingers, and said, “You only friend Pilar have.
She love you, Mal.”
moment and as another girl she had never met before once had, when that blond
beauty had whispered those words to the most unusual man, she saw real pain sprawl
across his rugged face. Moments passed,
and then as if two rare diamonds that now were set into bezels of fate, she
watched as Mal found a smile somewhere in his huge spirit, and now, though she
did not know it, her life, through him had changed, changed forever.
her face, she saw his chipped teeth. He leaned in and kissed her gently on the
lips. She felt her aching body shudder, for first times for girls being kissed
by someone they truly respect and care for, can be so earth shaking, it can
stun them to the tips of their handguns.
away from her, he pushed some more hair strands from her delicate face, and
then Maccas groaned from over in the corner, and the moment was broken, as Mal
said, “You honor me. Let’s finish this thing. There is a lot we need to talk,
Smiling, she nodded, glanced at the
awakening Maccas, then said. “Yes, my friend. Let’s finish this.”
Standing, Mal helped her to her feet, saw
her weave once, then supporting her under her arm, he asked. “You okay? What’s
Allowing her heavy armored coat to fall to
the floor, she touched her black body shirt, which was skintight against her
that a stray lead pellet had grazed her bare, cut arm and that it was bleeding,
Mal looked around, saw a T-shirt, moved to it, and bending, picked it up. From
under the pants leg of his black jeans, he lifted his cuff, and withdrew his
eight-inch hunting knife from the sheath stuck in his work boot. The knife was
like a razor, and Pilar watched which much admiration, as Mal sliced the
T-shirt into cotton bandages, moved to her, and wrapped her wound with the
white cotton strip. Seeing blood seeping out of the sweatshirt along his
shoulder, Pilar asked “You Mal…You are hurt…You okay?”
he smiled. “I’m fine, you want to talk to this guy, now?”
she strolled over to Maccas, and as Mal picked up his Mossberg and reloaded the
Sig Sauer with another clip, he stuffed it in his waistband, and moved along
side of her.
looked like a beached whale, laying there in his party G-string, his enormous
belly hanging over the skimpy underwear, which made Pilar even more edgy than
before. Nudging him with her black boot toe, the man groaned once, and then his
bulbous eyelids opened. Feeling a little blood seeping into her eyes, she wiped
them with her bare forearm, glanced at the blood, and then sighed.
Exposing his pellet eyes, Maccas gawked
straight up at the obviously annoyed gorgeous girl. After a micro-moment, he
recognized her and whispered.
Pilar raised her eyebrows at him, coyly,
winked at him. His eyes flicked at the tall man with the shotgun, who looked a
little edgy himself and then back at the angel, who now was waving a Beretta in
“Get up, NOW.”
The brown girl seethed and Maccas, still
living out the delusion that he was impregnable, groaned in anger, as he
struggled to his knees, facing her as he did.
Nudging his heavy lips open, Pilar stuck
the silencer barrel into his mouth, looked at Mal, then said. “Show picture,
As Mal began to dig into his pocket,
Maccas began to mumble some kind of defiant nonsense, but quickly became
silent, as Pilar, with her thumb, cocked the hammer back, and then having done
so, simply turned her head, back and forth. His eyes darted from the girl’s
ferret eyes to the gun in his mouth, back at her eyes, which told him it might
behoove him to be obedient, for the beautiful ferret was looking at him like a
King Snake. She wanted to eat.
As Maccas gawked around his flat, which
was littered with blood and his dead minions, he thought for a moment that perhaps,
beyond his knowledge that the two killers were a part of the Castro Cartel. He
had heard that the Castro’s and the Orta’s, much like at an Eli Lilly board
meeting, had ironed out their differences, for how many hundreds of millions of
dollars do fella’s need to be happy. But in his mind, one never knew, for
violence was such an integral part of his business, well, one never really
knew, did they?
Mumbling something unintelligible, he then
understood, as the tall guy with the scattergun pushed a color photograph in
front of his face that these folks were not Castro’s people, but very different
kind of animals indeed.
“Where girl? Talk now.” Pilar said in
Spanish, as she removed the silencer from his trembling lips.
“How much do you want? How much? I don’t
know any fucking girl. Do you know who I am?”
Whacking him along side of his bean with
her pistol barrel, she saw his head jerk, and with homicide in his eyes, he
turned his face back to her as she seethed. “I know you dead man, if you no
tell where girl is.”
Looking back and forth from the photo to
her eyes, he said. “I don’t know what the fuck you talking about.”
Exhaling her annoyance, she thought for a
moment, and tired of gun-play for the evening, she decided to be creative, for
after all she was an artist of what she did so well.
“Mal, put Mossberg on face.”
Mal lifted the shotgun, nudged the tip
against his heavy jowls.
Placing her Beretta under her bare arm,
and as Maccas’s eyes kept darting at the hard character the girl kept calling
Mal, he watched as she dug into her front pocket, and from it she withdrew a
small white, plastic vial. Opening the lid of the tiny vial, she withdrew a small
glassine bag, which she laid on the palm of her gloved hand. Looking at Mal,
she winked, got a wink in return, and ever so carefully, she opened the bag and
tilting it, aimed the open lip to her palm. A small yellow pill fell into the
center of her palm, as she smiled seeing it.
Tilting her hand, she saw Maccas’s eyes
leering at it, and then she glanced at Mal, who seemed mesmerized by the small
yellow tablet, as Senor Maccas was terrified by it.
“Senor Maccas, do you know what is this?”
Not wanting to know, he shook his head
back and forth.
“Is Cyanide…Very bad for you.
what a gal, is there no end to her magnificence.” Mal thought, as Maccas
gulped and his eyes kept skipping over the yellow tablet in the horrible girl’s
“Now…Where is girl, I count to three. No
tell. Very bad thing this…very bad. Tell.”
“You…You don’t know who I am…Fuck you…I
ain’t tellin’ you nothin’.”
“Time up.” Pilar whispered, as she glanced
“Mal, please, grab back of head, pull
back. Use Mossberg to open mouth.”
Mal leaned forward, grabbed a tuft of the
jefe’s thick black hair, ripped it back, dug the tip of the shotgun between
Maccas’s sputtering lips, then pried it open.
Maccas kept trying to tell her something,
but it came out as stutters and disjointed babble-speak. Pilar moved her gloved
hand over his open mouth and began to tilt the yellow pill. Maccas’s eyes
bolted wide open, gawking at it.
The pill took a small tumble and, then on
the edge of her glove, it began to make one last roll, almost as if in slow
motion. With sweat pouring down his obese brown face, Maccas began to stutter
again. “Si…Si…Si…Yo Conosco…Yo Conosco.”
The pill began to tumble off of the edge
of her palm, and as it found air, she swept her other hand so fast, that Mal
almost missed it. An inch from his bulbous lips, she caught it, brought her
hand up and playfully looked at the pill in her glove, as she whispered, “Oooh,
so close. No, it’s here…Now, where is girl?”
Mal pulled the gun tip out of his mouth,
released his grip on his hair and as he did he could see the man
hyperventilating and his barrel chest heaving and a copious amount of
perspiration raining down his face neck and chest.
“Si…Girl at airport…no…Now…Jet just
come…Han…Hangar 4…she go to Mexi….Mex…Mexico City…No kill…no…No kill me…por
He bowed his head and began to weep as his
breathing increased and his chest grew huge along his body and his face lifted
and his eyes went stark.
“Where…What kind of jet…Where she go…Who
waiting for her…What they do to her…Talk.”
Suddenly having problems breathing and
talking, the panic-stricken man jutted out the words, as his eyeballs began to
roll into the back of his head.
cut…cut her…Doc…Doc…Doctoooor Trinidad…Le…Lear Jet…Ahhhh”
Instantly, his entire body went rigid, as
a massive gush of air exploded out of his chest. His eyes rolled back into the
back of his head, as Pilar leaned forward, and grabbed the hair on the back of
his head, and then whispered. “What name doctor?”
With his last breath, and as he died of a
massive heart attack, the obese man whispered…Do…Doctor…Tri…Trin…aaahhhhhh.”
And then he was dead from a massive heart
attack, and with no more breath in his body, and only being supported by Pilar’s
muscled grip, she released him, thus allowing him to slump to the floor.
Turning to Mal, they exchanged glances and then they heard police sirens not
that far away, which brought Pilar back to the moment. She glanced out of the
window at blue and red blinking lights flashing in their direction.
“No time, Mal. We go airport. You have
Bobby friend there, official, yes.”
Glancing at his dive watch, which was
splattered with blood, he whispered. “Yes, but it’s past 3 AM.”
“No matter Mal, you have big money,
yes. You call from car,
he come, Pilar sure, help us get through airport, to hangar, maybe we not too
“Yes, you’re right.”
Turning her eyes to the front window
again, she saw two blue and white Tijuana cop cars, lights blazing on their
roofs, pull up in front of the Condo. As the police spilled out of the cars
with their weapons drawn and began to run towards the front door, Pilar smiled.
“Come, we go same way we come.”
Just about to turn and flee, she then felt
the yellow-pill in her hand. Looking at Mal, she winked at him, popped it into
her beautiful mouth, swallowed it, looked at Mal, and smiled at his shocked
“Excedrin, for Pilar headache.”
She giggled, as Mal shook his head back
and forth in wonder.
She then turned, walked over to her
bullet proof vest coat, picked it up and then ran across the room, with Mal in
Now once again, they were moving into a
war they thought once they would never know again and what they would find at
the end of that move would be more carnage.
More Bullets. More death, perhaps even
The war had begun again,
and perhaps no
one would get out alive.
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