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“Shut the fuck up,” Lead Guy ordered, and we both kept quiet for the rest of the trip.
The van drove for about 20 minutes, then finally came to a stop in some sort of gated garage. I heard the metallic door squeal and rattle down as the driver cut the engine.
They roughly pulled us out, frog-marched us down a hallway, and led us into a room. They uncuffed one of my hands but locked the other one to a table, shoved me down onto a chair, and took off my hood.
The first thing I saw was Jack sitting four feet to my left, his hand cuffed to the same table as me.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded, though I was terrified. “Yeah.”
“Well, you’re not going to be for long,” a vaguely familiar voice said.
I looked over. It was a grey concrete room with one of those four-foot-long mirrors you see in TV shows – definitely a one-way glass for surveillance. The table and chairs were bolted to the floor so they wouldn’t move. In front of the glass mirror stood the lead guy, one of the men with the assault rifles, and somebody new: a balding man in suit pants, tie, and a white button-up shirt. He was long-faced, mid-to-late 50’s, with no discernible sense of humor. He stood with his arms crossed, looking at us like you might look at a smear of dog crap on your shoe.
“You guys can go, I’ve got it from here,” the buttoned-up prick said.
Lead Guy and the other minion shuffled out.
The voice – it was the gruff man on the phone I’d talked to back in LA.
“Where’s Eddie?” I asked angrily.
“That’s a good question,” the prick said. “One we’ll get to shortly. I’m Agent Fordham… and you’re both in a barrel-full of shit.”
“I brought Jack with me to talk to Eddie,” I said.
“Well, now you’re talking to me. You are aware that revealing the identity of an undercover federal agent – especially to one of the suspects under investigation – is a felony that can get you up to 20 years in jail?”
“Jack came with me because he wants to take down Lou Shaw.”
“I’ll bet he does, after that night at the Roadhouse. I’m sure he thought he could just have us arrest Shaw and Eyeball and a couple of others, we’d go on our merry way, and he could have control of the Midnight Riders again.” Fordham gave Jack a tight smile. “Sorry to burst your bubble, pal, but not gonna happen.”
Shit.
This guy knew everything.
I was panicking, but Jack looked frosty as a block of ice. “What are you going to get me on?”
“Trafficking and distribution of marijuana. And the weapons charge on your .45.”
Jack looked the guy dead in the eyes and shook his head. “That’s not what you want.”
“No?”
“No, or you would have arrested me years ago.”
“We didn’t have enough on you until recently.”
“Bullshit. Fiona said Eddie wanted the entire distribution network.”
Fordham smiled. “Is this where you promise me the moon, the stars, and Pablo Escobar?”
“Pablo Escobar’s dead.”
“I didn’t think you’d know who Ismael Zambada was.”
“El Mayo? Rumor is his cartel’s behind the Santa Muertes.”
