CHAPTER 54
The hotel was far nicer than the Sierra. And it was right on the water.
The SUV was parked in the hotel’s garage. The four men had ridden the elevator to the lobby and then gone on to their rooms. They each had their own, a perk of this job. Money obviously was no limitation.
The man who had ridden shotgun in the SUV reached his room on the fifteenth floor and opened the door with his key card. He slipped off his jacket, revealing his holstered Glock nine. He made a beeline for the minibar and mixed a gin and tonic, then went to the window and gazed out over the Gulf. He took a long breath and slipped a cigarette from his pocket and lit up.
It was a nonsmoking room but he apparently didn’t care.
Thirty minutes later there was a knock at the door. Not his hotel room door, but the one connecting the room next to his. One of the other men was staying in that room.
He walked over to it. “Donny?”
“Yep.”
“What’s up?”
“Call from the boss, we got to roll,” replied Donny.
“S
hit.”
“Got something for you,” said Donny.
He opened the door.
The blow hit him so hard it lifted him off his feet and he flew backward and landed on the soft bed, his nose broken and his consciousness gone.
Donny stood there with a gun barrel held against his right temple. Mecho was behind him.
“Please, man, don’t kill me,” moaned Donny.
Mecho shoved him into the room and closed the door behind him. A ferocious blow to Don- ny’s head dropped him to the floor.
When he awoke later he was tied to the bed along with his colleague, who was now awake as well. The two men looked at each other.
Mecho stood over them looking down. He duct-taped their mouths, pulled their pants and underwear down, and held the knife pointed at their privates.
When he cut him there, Donny screamed, but it was a nearly soundless one with the duct tape across his mouth.
The next instant Mecho slammed the knife straight into his chest so hard that the point came out the man’s back and stuck into the mattress.
Donny’s mouth sagged open as he died.
The other man looked in panic at his dead colleague.
Mecho took off the other man’s duct tape.
The man braced for the strike of the knife, but Mecho just looked at him.
The man glanced at dead Donny. “Why did you kill him? He’d tell you anything you wanted to know.”
“I killed him,” said Mecho, “because I could.”
“What do you want to know?” the other man said, his voice panicky.
Mecho sat on the bed next to him. “What is your name?” he asked quietly.
“Joe.”
“Where are you from, Joe?”
“New Jersey.”
“What is this New Jersey?”
“It’s a state. Of the United States.”
“Do you have a family?”
Joe hesitated, but Mecho pointed his blade at his chest and Joe said, “Wife and two little girls.” “In New Jersey?”
Joe nodded, his eyes filling with tears.
“And you want to see them again?”
“Yes,” Joe gasped. “More than anything.”
“And the people from the boats?”
Joe’s chest heaved more and he sobbed. “It’s just a job.”
“They have family too.”
“I just do it for the money, I swear to sweet Jesus. It’s the only reason. I got nothing against those people.”
“They have people they love and who love them.”
“Just a damn job. That’s all,” moaned Joe.
Mecho took out the photo of Rada and held it in front of Joe. “Do you recognize this person? Her name is Rada.”
“Did you get enough to eat?”
He turned and saw her standing by a mailbox.
Julie Carson was not in uniform. She had on jeans, sandals, and a green sleeveless blouse.
She didn’t look like the one-star that she was. She looked like a tourist. A very fit, attractive tourist.
Puller walked over to her.