chapter 64
THE TENNESSEE MEXICANS not only were professionally organized but also had talent—not just muscle. They had players with sophisticated computer skills. The technical guy spent hours each day tracking their various money exchanges and drug shipments thanks to tiny, state-of-the-art GPS chips.
This Sunday morning he logged on to check the status of five different packages. He immediately noticed that the Mississippi money had moved overnight. Following protocol, he alerted his boss via prepaid cell phone.
“The Mississippi money has moved.”
“Where is it right now?” he asked, and then took a sip of a Starbucks canned coffee.
“It’s moved west about seventeen miles. It’s still there right now.”
“¿Dónde está?”
“Commerce Street. West Point, Mississippi. I can get exact if you want.”
“No. They probably made the exchange last night. Keep an eye on it. We’re to settle the deal un pequeño número de días. Until then, I want to know where the money goes. Also, el Jefe wants to know everything we can provide about this organization. I want to cut Moon Pie completely out.”
“¡Sí, por supuesto!”
“¡Gracias!”