PRIMAL Reckoning (Book 1 in the Redemption Trilogy, the PRIMAL Series Book 5) (26 page)

The lieutenant
nodded. “You sure are, Mr. Pershing.”

Roberto
pursed his lips and it looked like he was going to talk. But, instead he spat
on the desk.

He
sighed. “I didn’t want it to come to this.” He turned over the printed pages and
pushed them to the other side of the desk. “But if you don’t tell me where they
are, the people you love are going to suffer.”

He
watched Roberto’s face as he looked down at the photos of his wife and children.
The images had been taken at a shopping mall in Juarez. His stony glare
softened and tears flowed from both of his eyes. One corner of Pershing’s mouth
turned up in a sinister smirk.

CHAPTER
31

Bishop laid plastic sheeting on the
unfurnished office floor and taped it in place. He stood back and admired his
handy work as Emilio brought in a metal chair and placed it in the middle of
the room. “Thanks Emilio.”

The old rancher stared at him for a
moment.

“What’s up?”

“You work
for the UN?”

Bishop
nodded. “That’s right.”

“What
about the other two?”

“No, let’s
just call them security consultants. We go back a long way and they owe me a
few favors.”

“Mercenaries.”

“Yes,
except they’re not getting paid.”

“There’s
lots of gold at the mine. Maybe they could steal it?”

“That’s
not necessary. It belongs to your people, not us.”

“Then why
would they help us?”

Bishop
grasped him by the shoulder. “Because not everyone in the world is a wolf,
Emilio, some men are sheepdogs.”

He walked
into one of the bedrooms where Mitch was working on his iPRIMAL tablet. The
team had made it off-limits to Emilio and his men. “How’s it going?”

“Great,
the boys in the Bunker have used the system’s license plate identifier to track
the police chief’s movements. By working back through the archives they’ve ID’d
his favorite brothel. He visits the
Loco
Poni
most nights.” He brought up a map of the city and showed Bishop the
location.

“Excellent,
we’ll grab him there. What time does he usually go?”

“Between
seven and ten. I can let you know as soon as he leaves the office. Flash has
given me remote access to the system. If he turns right he’s on his way home.
If he turns left he’s on the way to the titty bar.”

“Let’s
hope he’s in the mood for a little jiggy jiggy.” Bishop left Mitch to monitor
the system and joined Mirza in the living room. The PRIMAL operative was
showing Miguel and Gerardo how to use the
RPG-7
.
At Bishop’s request they had received two of the rocket launchers from Emilio’s
cousin in the Sinaloa Cartel. “How many rockets they give us?” he asked.

“Only
six,” Mirza replied.

“Should
be enough to take out that dozer. What about bang?”

“A lot.
At least two hundred pounds of PowerGel in the back of Emilio’s truck.” Mirza
left the two farmers with the unloaded RPG. “Bish, do you have a minute?”

“Sure, mate.
Let’s jump in with Mitch.” He opened the bedroom door and pulled it shut behind
them. “What’s up?”

“I think
we need to request additional support from the Bunker. We can’t hit the mine
with just the six of us.”

He
nodded. “I’ve already spoken to Vance about deploying the CAT. Some of the boys
are still getting back from Europe but he reckons he can get them here ready to
roll in forty-eight hours. We’re going to wait till then to hit them.”

“OK,
good. And he’s supportive of a kinetic solution now?”

“After
what happened at the Veda ranch, he agrees there’s no alternative. If we can
come up with a sound plan involving the CAT, he’ll green light it.”

“Looks
like our man’s got a hard-on,” whooped Mitch.

“What?” asked
Mirza.

“The
Chief of Police,” said Bishop. “He’s heading to his favorite bang bar.” He
clapped his hands. “Let’s go pick him up.”

***

Bishop
looked out the window as Emilio parked the truck outside the address for the
bar. “You sure this is the right place?” he asked. It was a squat, three-story building,
with no windows. The cinder block walls were painted bright yellow and glowed
under the streetlights.

“Yeah
mate,” said Mitch. “That’s the chief’s car over there.” He pointed at the silver
SUV parked down the street.

“And he’s
alone?”

“Well,
probably not now. But he arrived alone.”

“Right.”
Bishop checked his Beretta and holstered it under his jacket. He double-checked
the
TASER
and stimpack in his pocket. “I’m good to go. Everyone ready?”

“I’m
ready,” said Mirza.

“Me too,”
said Emilio.

“Good,
let’s keep this tight and fast.”

They got
out of the truck and approached a solid metal-clad door. Emilio buzzed the
intercom and spoke to the voice at the other end. They talked for a good
minute, the conversation sounding heated.

“What’s
the problem?”

“He says
it’s a private club. I told them you’re very wealthy American miners. He’s gone
to ask his boss if it’s OK.”

They
stood outside for a few more minutes before the intercom hissed and the voice
returned.

“OK, they
want two hundred US to let you in.”

“What?
That’s robbery. OK, fine.”

“They
want to see the money.”

Bishop
pulled his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He waved it in
front of the camera on the intercom. Finally, the door clicked and Emilio pulled
it open. They walked into a foyer where they were welcomed by a scantily clad
hostess and a stocky, barrel-chested thug.

The
bouncer held out his hand. “Two-hundred dollar.”

Bishop
smiled and held out the wad of notes. As the guard reached for it he dropped
the cash, grabbed the man’s hand, and twisted it. A sharp kick knocked him off
his feet and a moment later he was face down on the floor, hands bound with
flexicuffs.

“Keep an
eye on him, Mitch.” Bishop pocketed the cash.

“Easy as
pie.” Mitch dragged the bouncer into the cloak room.

Emilio
showed the terrified hostess a picture of the Police Chief, asking in Spanish
where he was. She shook her head. Bishop pulled back his jacket and showed her
the Beretta. She started nodding and led them up a staircase to the second
floor.

“What a
shit hole,” he said as they walked down a dimly-lit corridor with thick red
carpet and brightly colored doors on either side. The air was thick with the
stench of cigarettes and booze.

Mirza
scrunched up his nose. “I seem to find myself following you into lots of places
like this.”

“Hey, if you
want to hunt monsters, you got to go into the lair.”

The girl
stopped in front of a bright orange door. Bishop waved her out of the way and
listened. It sounded like someone was filming a porno. He pulled a balaclava
over his face and drew the TASER. Mirza did the same, drawing his pistol.

Emilio grasped
the girl by the shoulder.

Bishop
turned the handle and pushed the door open with his boot. Facing him was a
naked, hairy, overweight man thrusting behind a curvaceous blonde. The girl
screamed as he walked in. The policeman dove for the pistol he had thrown on
the floor with his pants.

The twin
probes from Bishop’s TASER caught him in the side of his flabby torso and he
went down hard. Bishop knelt and injected the stimpack into his neck. The
convulsing mass of fat and hair went limp, sprawled on the floor.

“OK boys,
gift wrap that hairy turd for special delivery.” Bishop gestured for the girl
to grab her clothes and sit in the corner. Emilio brought the hostess in and
told them to sit together.

Mirza
grimaced as he pulled the unconscious man’s legs together and wrapped tape
around them. “How come I get all the unsavory jobs?”

Bishop
grinned from where he was covering the door with his Beretta. “Hey, at least
the TASER killed his boner.”

“Thanks,
real nice.” Mirza finished taping his hands then pulled the bedspread from the
mattress. “Emilio, help me wrap him up.”

They
rolled him in the blanket and taped it securely.

Bishop
kept an eye on the corridor. “OK, guys, let’s go.”

Emilio
and Mirza carried the bundle and Bishop led them out to the corridor, pistol
drawn. A side-door opened and a half-dressed client appeared. Bishop aimed the Beretta.
“Fuck off, yeah.” The man’s eyes widened and he retreated back into his room.

At the
bottom of the stairs Mitch was waiting with a backpack slung over his shoulder.
He pulled out a black nine-inch rubber dildo and waved it around. “I found a
few props to help with the interrogation.”

Bishop
shook his head. “You’re a fucking weirdo, Mitch. Give us a hand with this guy.”

They
carried the bundled up police chief outside and dumped him into the bed of the
truck. Mitch stayed in the back with the prisoner while the others piled into
the cab.

“That
went well,” said Mirza as he pulled off his balaclava.

“About
time we had a win,” replied Bishop as they drove back to the safe house.

***

The Chief of Police for Chihuahua was
strapped naked to a metal chair in an empty room. His head was bowed,
unconscious, and if he were not tied securely, would have slumped to the floor.
Bishop pulled his balaclava down, picked up a bucket of ice-cold water, and
dumped it over the naked prisoner. The man’s head snapped up and he gasped for
air, his eyes wide. “Wakey, wakey, champ!”

The chief started yelling in Spanish so
Bishop slapped him. “Hey, hey, I know you speak English, so how about you wise
the fuck up and start talking, yeah!”

“Do you
know who I am?” spat the policeman. He strained against the tape holding him to
the chair.

“I certainly
do, Comandante Felipe Guzman. I know exactly who you are. I know where you
work, I know where you live, and I know all about your little deals with Mr.
George Henry Pershing.”

Felipe shivered.
“You stupid fucks. You don’t know who you’re messing with. Pershing is CIA,
he’s going to eat you for breakfast.”

“Is he?
That what he told you? Well I’ve got news for you, mate. He’s as CIA as the
pope is Mexican.”

“Who are
you working for, the Sinaloa?”

“I’m the
one who’s going to ask all the questions, Felipe. Now, how long have you been
on the take from Pershing?”

“I’m not
telling you anything.”

“That
right? What’s your wife going to say when she finds out you’re banging whores?”

“You
think my wife gets a say in what I do? This is not America where the men are
weak and the woman is boss. I fuck whoever I want to fuck.”

“Oh, so
you’re a big man are you? Because from where I’m standing things aren’t looking
so big.”

Felipe
stared at a spot on the wall. Bishop had predicted this would happen. Threats
were never going to work. Mexican society was centered on the image of the
macho man. The strong male whose hacienda was his castle, and he was the lord.
He already knew he’d have to get a little creative.

“OK, so
this is what’s going to happen, Felipe. You’re going to tell me exactly what I
want to know or things are going to get… interesting.” He took a syringe out of
his pocket and removed the safety cap. He showed it to the policeman then slid
it into his arm and depressed the plunger.

Felipe
fought against the tape. “What the hell is that?”

“Don’t
worry, it’s nothing dangerous. Just a muscle relaxant and some Viagra.” Bishop leaned
in close. “You can feel it can’t you? A warm fuzzy feeling, all your muscles
relaxing, except one. But that’s not a muscle is it?”

“What,
what are you doing to me?”

“I’m not
going to do anything to you. But my friend is. I’m just going to video it and
send it to all your police buddies. Or maybe I’ll just put it on the internet
for all the perverts to jack off to.” He opened the door. It took every ounce
of his discipline not to burst out laughing. “Tell me, Felipe, are you familiar
with the expression, I’m going to make a playground out of your ass?”

Mitch stood
in the doorway wearing a gimp mask and a pair of cut-off denim shorts. His
muscular, hairy chest was strapped into a harness with a steel ring in the
middle. He was holding a giant black rubber dildo.

“What the
hell?” screamed the bound man.

Bishop
used his knife to cut the tape holding him to the chair. “It’s OK, Felipe. You
seem to be already enjoying this.”

The
policeman looked down at his raging boner.

“Nooo,
you can’t do this. You can’t.” Already his voice was slurring as the drugs
kicked in.

“Then
tell me what I want to know.” Bishop knew he had him cracked. “Pershing’s
operations. I know about the mine, what else is there?”

“Nueva
Piedras. Something going on out near Nueva Piedras. But I don’t know what it
is.”

“You can
do better than that.”

Mitch
strode over and caressed Felipe’s leg with the dildo.

“Off
highway 45, a wheat farm. They bought a wheat farm. I promise that’s all I
know.” The police chief whimpered.