poured the concoction into a large vat of freshly made cocaine, the feeling was close to orgasmic.
Now, fifty of his lieutenants hit the packed bars and clubs of Ciudad Merliot, pockets full of the new batch of coke. Another fifty spread out through the shanty towns along the city’s fringes. He didn’t trust the operation to his hundreds of foot soldiers. They were simpletons, unable to grasp the magnitude of the plan. Benito figured he’d hook the rich and the poor at the same time. To ensure his plan worked, and people took the bait, he told the men to actually give away hits for free. Between the hundred men, they would be distributing—free of charge—nearly three kilos of cocaine.
The plan was risky financially up front, yet Benito knew the rewards in the future would outweigh the losses in the present.
Benito’s cell phone vibrated and his heart rate spiked. He hoped it was a text from one of his men, not another pathetic, tear-filled communication from the other Alvarado whore, Teresa. During the last day-and-a-half, she’d called him so many times he’d lost count. At first, he took her calls and tried to act worried as well, assuring Teresa he would do whatever necessary to locate the missing Maria. After about the tenth call, he’d lost his temper and shut the whiny bitch down, telling her he would take the next flight to Phoenix to assist in the search.
Extracting the phone from his pocket, Benito smiled. The call was from Roberto’s private number used only for communication with Benito. Figuring he was calling to report on the results of the experiment in Phoenix, Benito answered. Before he could even finish saying hello, Roberto interrupted, his voice strained and sirens wailing in the background.
“Don’t deploy! Don’t deploy! Something’s wrong!”
Benito’s mouth went dry. Heavy static made hearing Roberto’s word difficult. “Calm down and say again? I can’t understand…”
“People…dying…coming…back…spreading…abort! For…sake…abort!”
The sound of Roberto’s terrified voice was drowned out by screams rising up from the city below. Disconnecting the call, Benito stood and lifted the binoculars to his eyes. As he focused the lenses, the smell of smoke wafted through the tropical night air. The screams were joined by numerous sirens from police cruisers and ambulances, their brightly colored lights flooding the streets. He could see throngs of people running through the crowded streets, trampling each other in a panicked effort to flee.
A sense of foreboding squashed the joy he’d felt seconds ago. His cell phone vibrated in quick succession, an indicator texts were flooding the screen. Benito’s stomach churned. Lowering the binoculars, he glanced at the vibrant screen and saw sixteen texts and counting, all from separate numbers.
Stunned, Benito clicked on one. “What have you done? This stuff is poison!”
Then another: “I’m going to hunt you down for this! Slice your fucking balls off!”
And another: “You said this would guarantee clients for life! Instead, they are dying in droves! AND COMING BACK!”
The screams from below grew louder, drawing his attention away from the phone. The sickening feeling in his gut increased. Benito took one last look at the streets, hoping to find the reason behind the chaos was from a gunman or wild animal.
He knew he wouldn’t.
Gunshots rang throughout the area in quick succession. Automatic weapons—he knew the sound. Zooming in on one spot, Benito followed a stream of citizens running down a small alleyway, hands shaking as he searched for what sent them into hysterics. A policeman dressed in full riot gear made his way through the crowd, crouched, and trained his weapon behind them. Benito watched the flashes of light spray out the end as the cop fired off several rounds into a woman’s body.
The bullets ripped through the young woman’s chest, thigh, and shoulder. She fell onto the brick street, landing
Now, fifty of his lieutenants hit the packed bars and clubs of Ciudad Merliot, pockets full of the new batch of coke. Another fifty spread out through the shanty towns along the city’s fringes. He didn’t trust the operation to his hundreds of foot soldiers. They were simpletons, unable to grasp the magnitude of the plan. Benito figured he’d hook the rich and the poor at the same time. To ensure his plan worked, and people took the bait, he told the men to actually give away hits for free. Between the hundred men, they would be distributing—free of charge—nearly three kilos of cocaine.
The plan was risky financially up front, yet Benito knew the rewards in the future would outweigh the losses in the present.
Benito’s cell phone vibrated and his heart rate spiked. He hoped it was a text from one of his men, not another pathetic, tear-filled communication from the other Alvarado whore, Teresa. During the last day-and-a-half, she’d called him so many times he’d lost count. At first, he took her calls and tried to act worried as well, assuring Teresa he would do whatever necessary to locate the missing Maria. After about the tenth call, he’d lost his temper and shut the whiny bitch down, telling her he would take the next flight to Phoenix to assist in the search.
Extracting the phone from his pocket, Benito smiled. The call was from Roberto’s private number used only for communication with Benito. Figuring he was calling to report on the results of the experiment in Phoenix, Benito answered. Before he could even finish saying hello, Roberto interrupted, his voice strained and sirens wailing in the background.
“Don’t deploy! Don’t deploy! Something’s wrong!”
Benito’s mouth went dry. Heavy static made hearing Roberto’s word difficult. “Calm down and say again? I can’t understand…”
“People…dying…coming…back…spreading…abort! For…sake…abort!”
The sound of Roberto’s terrified voice was drowned out by screams rising up from the city below. Disconnecting the call, Benito stood and lifted the binoculars to his eyes. As he focused the lenses, the smell of smoke wafted through the tropical night air. The screams were joined by numerous sirens from police cruisers and ambulances, their brightly colored lights flooding the streets. He could see throngs of people running through the crowded streets, trampling each other in a panicked effort to flee.
A sense of foreboding squashed the joy he’d felt seconds ago. His cell phone vibrated in quick succession, an indicator texts were flooding the screen. Benito’s stomach churned. Lowering the binoculars, he glanced at the vibrant screen and saw sixteen texts and counting, all from separate numbers.
Stunned, Benito clicked on one. “What have you done? This stuff is poison!”
Then another: “I’m going to hunt you down for this! Slice your fucking balls off!”
And another: “You said this would guarantee clients for life! Instead, they are dying in droves! AND COMING BACK!”
The screams from below grew louder, drawing his attention away from the phone. The sickening feeling in his gut increased. Benito took one last look at the streets, hoping to find the reason behind the chaos was from a gunman or wild animal.
He knew he wouldn’t.
Gunshots rang throughout the area in quick succession. Automatic weapons—he knew the sound. Zooming in on one spot, Benito followed a stream of citizens running down a small alleyway, hands shaking as he searched for what sent them into hysterics. A policeman dressed in full riot gear made his way through the crowd, crouched, and trained his weapon behind them. Benito watched the flashes of light spray out the end as the cop fired off several rounds into a woman’s body.
The bullets ripped through the young woman’s chest, thigh, and shoulder. She fell onto the brick street, landing
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