“Sorry about that, kid,” the man called Muerto told him. “We have a space problem Cleaner was trying to get a jump start on. Here’s the deal. You’ve traveled down a deadly path, Jess. We’re not into the touchy feely stuff so my friends and I won’t be insulting your intelligence by pretending we care what caused your descent into darkness. We don’t. We also don’t want you to go through more pain than necessary. Tell us where to find your cousin and arrange a meeting with him…” Muerto paused. He smiled at his friends. “Jackpot. You see what I see Payaso?”
The black guy crouched down to look into Jess’s eyes. “You don’t play poker, do you kid. You have a meeting with our star Cornelio.”
“You guys are freaky,” Jess heard the Middle Eastern guy say. “The guy’s mouth is taped. How the hell do you know about a meeting, Muerto?”
“His eyes, Kabong,” Muerto said.
“I’ve told you a thousand times to watch the widening of the eyes, April Fresh,” Payaso added. “The moment Muerto mentioned arranging a meeting Jess’s eyes widened and even the duct tape moved.”
Kabong waved his friend off. “You white men all look the same to me.”
Jess Morado watched the three killers and woman enjoying Kabong’s statement with much mirth as the black man, Payaso, was very dark. Muerto finally turned his attention to Jess.
“Okay Jess, you’re on. We can agree you’re meeting your cousin… today I’d wager. Save yourself some pain. Tell me where and when.”
The knowledge one will die aches within each human being. The knowledge one will be dying within minutes no matter what that person does brings with it a terrifying aspect all its own. Tears began to form at the corners of Jess’s eyes while staring into the man named Muerto’s face. He saw nothing there resembling compassion. Instinctively, he knew no matter what the man needed to do in search of the information he wanted, Muerto would do. If it included making Jess scream for hours then so be it. He nodded at Muerto.
Muerto removed the duct tape over his mouth. “One other item I need to explain, kid – we don’t do freebies. We’ll keep you alive with Cleaner watching over you. If you’ve given us solid leads we’ll ease you into eternity without pain. If you lie or screw up, there are no takebacks. We will come back here and show you the meaning of pain. Show him a sample, Cleaner.”
The woman they called ‘Cleaner’ showed him a tablet video so horrific Jess looked away. “No more! I’ll tell you what you want to know. I’m meeting my cousin within the hour at his place in Seaside. He owns a condo complex there. The complete upper floor is joined into one huge place.”
“The Cleaner’s recording. Give us the address. Speak clearly,” Muerto directed. “Give us the address for the place you punks meet on Phoenix too.”
Jess did as told without hesitation. The thought of going through the torture shown to him on the tablet was unimaginable. Payaso brought out a flask. He gave Jess a couple of deep swallows.
“That will help you pass the time until our return. Cleaner will give you a swallow every twenty minutes or so,” Payaso said. “I can tell you’ve told us the truth, but we always hedge our bets.”
“I have told you the truth. I do not want to die like you’ve shown me.”
“Believe me, kid,” Payaso said, “you have chosen wisely.”
*
Cornelio glanced at the time seeing Jess was due any minute. He sipped the brandy in his hand, leaning into the lounge chair where he sat in front of a huge viewing screen. Crashing noises sounded in the room beyond his home theater space. What the hell are those idiots doing out there?
Morado stood, shutting off his movie with the clap of his hands. “Marco? What the hell?”
“Damn it,” Cornelio muttered. He stalked angrily to the door leading to an adjoining room, opening it to silence. He had five men on the other side of the door. They were never silent. Morado opened the door fully to a nightmare scene of death. His men lie in various positions strewn amongst the furniture like discarded bloody toys. Three costumed figures stood in the middle of the room, two in black masks, and one in a devilish clown face. They posed comically with their silenced machine pistols for Morado. The one in the lead laughed and took off his mask.
“Hi Cornholio. We were having a little fun. I’m Nick McCarty, owner of the Monte Café. You put the Norte?os onto my place to make an example of us. We’re here to return the favor. We’re going to make an example of you. It’s going to hurt because we have to go old school on your ass to make a point.”
Morado made a run for his theater room only to have a burst of fire rake across his legs. He fell screaming in pain, clutching his legs. Nick stood over him with a smile.
“We’re going to make you squeaky clean inside and out, Cornholio. Then we’re going over to watch the kids make the rest of our statement. Hopefully, you Nuestro assholes will take the hint. If not, things are going to get ugly.”
*
Quinn approached the two armed men guarding the door into the Norte?os warehouse meeting place with a big smile. He stopped ten feet away and waved. The two guards traded irritated glances.
“Who the fuck you, man?”