The Beasts of Juarez by R.B. Schow (story books to read .txt) 📗
- Author: R.B. Schow
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“What do you think they’re doing?” Cira asked when they were gone.
“Jerking each other off,” Atlas said calmly. “How do I know?”
“Surely you have an idea,” Cira pressed. Up front, Kiera unbuckled her seatbelt. Atlas followed suit. Cira looked at them both. “Atlas, are we in trouble?”
“Maybe, I’m not sure,” Atlas said.
Cira looked around then it dawned on her. “If shit goes south, we’re sitting ducks in here.”
“Tactically speaking,” Atlas said, “you’re exactly right.”
When the guys were done loading the trunk, someone shut the lid then Leopold shook a couple of hands and got back in the car. They slowly drove out of the warehouse, Leopold’s eyes on the rearview mirror and the side mirrors the whole way.
When they reached the end of the dirt road and turned onto the highway, Cira said, “What the hell was that?”
Atlas told her the truth. “A drug deal.”
“We’re smuggling drugs over the border?” Cira asked.
“It was last minute so I had to put something together fast,” Leopold said. “Plus I’m still nurturing connections all over the world. Connections like these can be made quickly, but the clean connections, well, those take time and patience, two luxuries we don’t have right now.”
“That doesn’t explain why we’re taking drugs across the border,” Cira asked.
“Because we’re going into a gun-free zone with only Atlas’s bad hairdo and that gross beard for defense,” Leopold said.
Atlas scoffed out loud. Cira snorted out a laugh.
“As unsightly and smelly as he is,” Leopold said, “I’m afraid his ghastly appearance is no match for a Glock or an M5.”
“Are you sure?” Atlas asked with a grin.
He had been so pissed off for so long, but being back with these people and tasting freedom for the first time in half a year lightened his mood so much that not even the prospect of being caught at the border could dampen his spirits.
“Now we just need to get over the border,” Leopold said. “After that, we’ll link up with a friend who will be happy to empty our trunk with one thing and fill it with another.”
Atlas took a big bite of his taco. Talking with his mouth full, he said, “This is some rinky-dink shit, Leo.”
“It’s all rinky-dink,” Leopold said. “But that’s why I have you and Kiera. And even though you’re the real weapons, you can’t fight a war in a third-world dump with your B.O. and her winning personality and expect to come out unscathed.”
“Maybe his B.O.,” Cira said before taking another big bite of her Gordita.
“And definitely her personality,” Leopold said about Kiera, who didn’t smile. “Oh, c’mon, Kiera, that was worth at least a sideways eye stare.”
She didn’t move, not even to blink.
“She’s been a tough crowd all morning,” Leopold said. “Bald chicks and me are pretty much 0 for 2.”
“When do we link up with Yergha and Esty?” Cira asked, changing the subject before Kiera decided Leopold’s humor was too much.
“They ran into the hot center of a shit storm but it looks like they’re clear of it for now, and with a solid lead no less. They got us rooms at the Hotel Montecarlo, which isn’t too far from the border. If those two aren’t recharged and ready to level up, Atlas and Kiera will run point.”
“Who are we delivering the drugs to?” Atlas asked. “And what exactly did you buy?”
“We’ve got fifty kilos of pot. There are thirty-five kilos of the Jack Herer strain and fifteen kilos of Blueberry Widow. Don’t ask me the difference because I don’t have a clue. I’m addicted to women, not drugs. To answer your other question, my buyer is on the outskirts of Juárez. We’re getting guns and ammo in exchange for what is arguably some very good weed.”
“How are we not going to get totally fisted on the way into Mexico?” Atlas asked. “There’s this thing called the border and there are border guards just waiting for people like us.”
“You let me worry about that. As for Juárez, after we fully stock our arsenal, we’re going to kick a hornet’s nest so damn hard it will be felt in trafficking circles all around the world. And then we’re going to step on the nuts of everyone involved in the kidnapping.”
“Damn straight,” Cira said.
“The rules of engagement are to give every last one of these cocksuckers a dirt nap,” Leopold continued. “Are you two ready or what?”
In response to the awesome pep talk Leopold just gave, Atlas said, “Yeah, but do you have salsa and chips, or napkins?”
Cira tried stifling a laugh but it didn’t work. Even Kiera had to turn away for a moment. Atlas looked up when everyone started laughing at him.
“Sorry, this food is worlds better than the prison chow I’m used to eating. In there, it’s like they’re feeding you your own asshole and saying it’s a meal.”
Shaking his head, he turned to Kiera and said, “If you ever get clearance to speak, whatever Atlas says, just don’t say that and you’ll be golden.”
“So,” Atlas asked, “no salsa then?”
Chapter Thirty-One
LEOPOLD WENTWORTH
When Leopold entered the funnel of cars waiting to cross over the border, he tried not to sweat. Sweating like he was would be a dead giveaway. He turned on the radio, found one of the local stations playing classic rock then went through a number of breathing exercises to keep his blood pressure level. He’d been in high-level meetings before where hundreds of millions of dollars were on the line, but none of them were nearly as stressful as this.
He looked from face to face at the passengers in the car. Kiera was a non-registered
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