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“Finally, some good news.” Python lit his own smoke.
“How?” Cobra spit out the one word instinctively knowing there was way more to this fucked up story.
“Marita came into Wicked two weeks ago when I was working, and she said she needed something moved, and she offered a big chunk of change to do it.”
“Yeah?” Cobra’s ice-cold blue eyes bore through him.
“So, I took her up on her offer.”
“Without running it past your president or your other brothers?” Cobra’s rhetorical question spoke volumes.
“I didn’t think it was necessary.”
“You didn’t think it was necessary to mention you’d be working with a key player in the cartel?”
Mamba heaved out a breath. “Look, I get I fucked up, but hear me out.” He gazed around the table and all his brothers were on the edge of their seat. “I go down to Searchlight and drive the van up to Barstow. When I get to the drop-off some tweaker is waiting for me along with two guys with semi-automatics. The tweaker can’t wait to see the cargo, so he opens the back up and I nearly lost my shit. They’ve got at least ten pre-teens zip-tied together.”
“What the fuck?” Joker mumbled.
“Seems Marita has hit a new low and she and her crew are into human trafficking.” Mamba looked to Cobra. “Obviously, the ring you’ve been hearing about.”
Cobra slowly nodded his head.
“Okay,” Python leaned in resting his elbows on the table. “So as fucked up as this is, it sounds like you did the job without a hitch, so why all the drama up at Cobra’s cabin?”
“After seeing what I was involved in I kinda lost my shit with Marita. I not only didn’t take her money, but I told her I didn’t wanna be involved in any of this shit again. I may be desperate for the money, but I’m not dipping my fingers in that messed up shit. Not only is it a federal rap, but it is fucked up on every level.”
“Maybe it wasn’t Marita who was spooking you, maybe it was the guys you owe the money to,” Rattler offered.
“I don’t think so cause all this shit happened right after I turned Marita down.”
“We gotta shut this shit down,” Cobra said. “And we gotta do it now.”
The boulder sitting on Mamba’s chest lifted a bit. He never doubted his brothers would help him; he just didn’t want to admit he needed their help.
* * *
An hour later,they were still arguing over the best way to handle the situation. Ideas ranged from Rattler saying they should go in guns blazing and ambush Marita and her crew in their hideout in Tijuana—to Boa wanting to plant a tracker on one of their vehicles and cut them off in the act.
Typical reactions from their wild, seat-of-the-pants road captain, to their practical computer genius. Somehow they had to formulate a plan somewhere in the middle.
“Settle the fuck down.” Cobra slammed the gavel against the thick wood table for what seemed like the tenth time. “We all agree this shit needs to end, but I don’t wanna put any of you in the line of fire needlessly.”
Boa shot Rattler an “I told you so look” to which Rattler flipped him off.
“But,” Cobra continued, “sometimes you gotta hit hard and hit fast.”
Rattler’s lips twisted into the smirky grin that made most men want to shove their fist in his face.
Cobra rolled his eyes at their antics. “So, this is how we’re gonna handle it.”
* * *
Mamba swipedat the sweat on his brow as he stood in the sweltering main room of The Frontier. Either the fuckin’ air conditioning was out in this dump or his nerves were amped up to the limit. Probably a little of both.
He drew in a slow breath as he waited for Marita’s muscle to give him the okay to enter her inner sanctum. A fuckin’ joke all around because beyond the splintered wooden door sat an office with thick pile carpet, soft leather chairs and an ornate desk trimmed in gold. Fuckin’ ridiculous but the queen of the cartel liked everybody to know how high she stood on the food chain.
Another fifteen minutes passed before the muscle finally reappeared and jerked his head toward Marita’s office. Mamba moved forward keeping his swagger intact as his brain spun with the act he was about to sell. An ounce of groveling with a heavy dose of tough guy bullshit.
