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with La Eme. Mexican Mafia.
Some totally tough Latinos.
Definitely not the kind of
guys you want to mess over.
No problem. I’ll play straight
with them. Cash and carry.
That’s the only way to deal
with Cesar and La Eme.
Brad Picks Me Up
Right on time. I figure
d we’d
head for the projects. Instead,
he drives well east of the city,
to the little bedroom community
of Fernley. It’s a silent twenty-
minute drive. What’s left to say?
Cesar lives in a well-kept
mobile home on a ten-acre
piece of high desert ground.
When we pull through the gate,
we are greeted by a rottweiler
the size of a Shetland pony.
The animal woofs like a bear,
and drool slides from his jowls.
The commotion brings Cesar
(I assume) to the front door.
León! Abajo! he commands.
The dog drops to the ground.
He’ll expect us to stay at
least a half hour, Brad says.
