Burning Bridges by Heath Stallcup

Author:Heath Stallcup [Stallcup, Heath]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DevilDogPress

Near Chapala, Mexico

* * *

Miguel stood stiffly in the doorway. “Señor, I told him to make the call.” He stared straight ahead, not daring to look the cartel boss in the eye. “At the time, we did not know who we were dealing with. They had already killed Luis and his crew.” He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw to keep it from shaking. “I vouch for Ricardo, señor.”

El jefe stood from behind his desk and walked slowly towards the barrel chested man. “You know that this organization has been infiltrated by the Americans before, si?”

Miguel looked down and met his gaze. “I did not know this.”

“Oh, it’s very true.” He pulled a cigar from the humidor on his desk and snipped the end. He glanced at Miguel and noted the sweat forming on his forehead. “The Americans sent in a mole.” He lit a match and held it to the end of the cigar, puffing gently and forming blue grey clouds of smoke. Dropping the match he stepped back towards Miguel. “This mole worked his way deep into the organization and do you know what Señor Murillo did?”

“No, Jefe, I don’t.”

El Fantasma smiled, and it didn’t reach his eyes. “Señor Murillo presented this mole with a gift.” He puffed the cigar and blew smoke towards Miguel. “A gold plated pistola.”

Miguel’s face twisted in confusion. “Jefe?”

He pulled back the edge of his coat and revealed a gold and silver plated pistol nestled snugly in a shoulder holster. He slowly drew it and the heft of it in his hand surprised him. He was used to wearing it, but so seldom actually held it in his hand. “This pistola.”

Miguel swallowed hard and nodded slightly. “It is beautiful.”

“Si, it is.” El Fantasma locked eyes with Miguel and slowly lifted the pistol. “Do you know what he did next?”

Miguel shook his head nervously. “No, señor.”

“While the mole’s men stood nearby, and without anybody’s knowledge, Murillo pulled the pistola from the beautiful, hand carved, wooden presentation box and shot the mole.” He tapped Miguel’s chest. “Right here. En el corazón.”

Miguel tried to swallow but found that his throat had gone dry. “Señor, I swear. Ricardo is no mole. I have known him and his familia since we were—”

“That is not the point.” El Fantasma slipped the weapon back into his holster and sighed. “You should have told me that you had him make inquiries.” He sighed heavily and shook his head. “Now, because of your actions, people in their government may be alerted to our activities.”

Miguel gave him another confused look. “Señor?”

He sighed and sat on the edge of his desk. “My contacts in the American government have legitimate dealings in our country. Nobody thinks twice if they make inquiries because it is part of their jobs.” He spat a small speck of tobacco from his lip and came to his feet. “But you…” He forced himself to take a deep, cleansing breath. “You have your amigo call a woman of low moral character and have her make inquiries on your behalf.

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