chapter 100
THE MEXICAN DRUG dealers had an interesting night. After casing the police station and the Henry Clay Hotel and not learning anything they didn’t already know, they decided to eat supper. Julio wanted to experience the local vibe and cuisine. He felt this was the only way to connect, albeit indirectly, with the target. Based upon the almost-unanimous recommendation from everyone in town they asked, they pulled up to the front of Anthony’s Market. From the outside, it appeared to be a dive. Once inside, however, Julio loved the atmosphere. He ordered one of every Cajun appetizer on the menu, just to sample it. The men gorged themselves on spicy food and drank nearly a case of Corona while watching Monday Night Football on a huge flat-screen. Guillermo had kept his laptop powered up, monitoring the movements of Moon Pie’s ankle bracelet.
Full as ticks, and feeling bulletproof, the Mexicans decided to follow the GPS tracking of the ankle bracelet as it moved from Chocolate City. They asked for the check and then spoke quickly to each other in Spanish so no one would understand. Both watched the red dot on the screen as it traveled closer to them. When it stopped moving three blocks north, Julio dropped three hundred-dollar bills on the table and thanked the waitstaff as they walked out. At the front door, Julio’s stomach rumbled once and then again before he got to the car. He paused and considered going back inside to use the restroom, but the anticipation of the chase overpowered his guts.
As the Mexicans approached the location of the tracking device, they noticed that the street was lined with run-down shotgun-style homes. The beer had contributed to Julio’s conviction that he understood the dynamics of the neighborhood. He believed that they had the element of surprise on their side and didn’t have to worry about a big crowd. They drove by once and saw the purple car pulling into the yard. Only a few lights were on inside the house. Turning around, they turned off their headlights and rolled silently to a stop, putting the purple Cadillac between them and the house. Julio grabbed his pistol and Guillermo his laptop as they silently approached the house.
Julio’s stomach rumbled again. Guillermo heard it and looked at him, but Julio was focused on his approach to the dwelling. When they walked past the car, Guillermo noticed that the tracking program indicated that the ankle monitor was inside the car. He gave Julio a quick whistle.
“Es en el coche.”
“What?” Julio asked in a loud whisper.
Turning the computer screen toward Julio, Guillermo said in Spanish, “It’s in the car, not the house.”
Julio shook his head in disbelief and then looked for movement in the old house. Not seeing anything, he walked back to the car and tried looking inside it, but the windows were darkly tinted.
“Está dentro,” Guillermo insisted.
Julio knew to trust this technology. Since they had started using this program, it had proven to be accurate to within three feet. He quickly glanced around for anyone watching and saw no one. As he pulled up on the door handle, he was surprised that it was unlocked. He opened the door, pointing his pistol inside. When he saw no one, he pocketed the pistol and began looking inside the car for the anklet. Guillermo studied the screen and then began helping search the car.
The car reeked of menthol cigarettes. The dashboard was greasy and shiny, as though it had just been wiped down with Armor All. There was a golden crown-shaped air freshener in the back window. Julio didn’t see the tracking device.
“Look under seat,” Guillermo advised.
Julio felt under the seats until he finally found the ankle monitor.
When he straightened to show Guillermo, he saw a pistol pointed right at his head and one pointed at Guillermo’s. A short, fat black man had a gun in each hand.
“You wetbacks ain’t taking Heavy G’s car! I done told that fool I’d make a payment on my rims next week when I get my check!”
In heavily accented English, Julio said, “We just want this.” He held up the anklet.
“That shit ain’t Heavy G’s!”
“Do you know where Mr. Moon Pie is?”
“What the hell you talking ’bout, fool? I don’t know no Moon Pie! All I knows is that you ain’t taking Heavy G’s car. Now, get yo’ jalapeno-eatin’ asses outta here ’fo I pop a cap in ’em!”
Julio and Guillermo glanced quickly at each other. Guillermo held his computer with his back turned to Heavy G. Julio had his hands raised, showing he was unarmed.
“I said I’m gonna pop a cap in your ass if y’all don’t get the hell away from here!”
“We leave, señor. We make mistake.”
“You damn right you made a mistake. Don’t nobody mess with Heavy G’s shit!”
Julio and Guillermo starting to back away. Heavy G continued to hold the pistols sideways, pointed at their faces, until they got into their car.
“Go, Guillermo,” Julio said, holstering his gun. He was embarrassed and angry.
Guillermo floored the accelerator, squealing the tires as they sped away.