Chapter 39

We passed through a maze of concrete walkways lined with thick shrubs and landscaped gardens, but the place remained devoid of people. It wasn’t even eight p.m., yet it seemed to be past everyone’s bedtime. A couple of kids were kicking a soccer ball around on a patch of green off in a distance; they seemed to move in slow motion through a haze of fluorescent lights. It felt surreal, to be sure. I peeked over my shoulder only to find no one in sight. The goon who was tagging along had taken a wrong turn, it seemed. Carina was a few steps ahead, weirdly indifferent to my presence. Something was amiss about this setup, but I had no time to ruminate; I turned to make a run for it. Just then a scraggly haired, feral-looking youth appeared from twenty yards away. He was thin and gangly, but his vigilant and focused manner left no doubt as to his bloodthirsty intentions. I turned right back around and beat a trail behind Carina.

His youth frightened me even more. These gangster kids were like baby rattlesnakes, unpredictable and primed to let loose with all their venom – in his case, bullets. He caught up immediately and joined in our walkathon a few yards behind. I assumed he had a gun, so making a run for it was not an option. We proceeded in single file. Carina hadn’t turned around even once to check if I was still behind her, which was strange to say the least. We finally entered one of the buildings in the complex. Our young friend didn’t miss a beat and joined us on the elevator ride up.

Carina pressed the eighth floor button and smiled at me. I wondered if they planned on throwing me out a window instead. Mr. Howard suffered the same fate and now it was my turn, I feared.

The youth kept his head down the entire time it took to reach the eighth floor. He looked remorseful, I thought. Perhaps it was a need for contemplation and prayer to ease his conscience; even murderers succumb to guilt feelings from time to time. Carina and I hung a right as we got out, and he took a left, but before we got through the apartment door I spied him staring at us from down the hall with shrewd businesslike comportment. He didn’t look like a kid anymore, and his guilt trip seemed to have disappeared into sock heaven. I expected him to be joining us shortly.

She locked the door once we got in, but it made no difference. A smooth operator like Sandoval had scores of spare keys for all the hit men he employed. The place was bare with just a couch in the middle of the room and a stiff wooden chair set in a corner. She began undressing and settled down on the couch, bare-chested, leaving on only her jeans and a pair of high-heeled shoes. For a moment I forgot the frightening mess I was in. She looked at me and smiled.

“Sit.”

“Yes, of course,” I replied, dumbfounded. I sat down next to her. “Kiss, please...” she insisted, so we started kissing. She kept her bag right up by her leg which was odd, I thought, unless she was planning to slip a condom out in a hurry. But I was quite used to things not being what they seemed so I threw caution to the wind and our kissing became passionate very quickly. Movie titles suddenly came to mind: Kiss Me Deadly…One Kiss Before I Die….

I pulled away in a panic.

But she was relentless and shifted herself on the couch to get a better grip on me. I was suddenly staring into a couple of swollen nipples that looked like a double serving of chocolate marshmallows. I dove in like a hawk – kissing, nibbling and licking every inch of flesh I could get my mouth around. It was quite a finale, so to speak, and an incongruous way to get knocked off. Nevertheless, I proceeded to pull my clothes off in a frenzy and began ravishing every inch of her. I didn’t even bother slipping off my loafers. She stripped away the rest of her gear and was stretched out naked on the couch, ready for business. But just as I got on top I heard jostling at the door.

That lean, scraggly kid came through like clockwork. I had forgotten about him. He was halfway through the door when I noticed Carina leaning over to get a better view of the young party pooper. She had one hand hanging over the sofa stuck in that bag of hers. I sat right up when he leaned in with his gun and was just about to say my prayers when a couple of rounds went off from inside Carina’s pouch. I watched her zero in like a marksman; this was no call girl I was about to make love to. The kid fell to the floor, moaning and in a lot of pain, shot through the ribs and upper arm. She got up off the couch in a flash and quickly took hold of the situation.

I joined her, picking up his gun and aiming it at his head. She had hers pointed in the same direction. There were now two naked people holding guns on this kid. You couldn’t make this up. She went back to her bag and pulled out her cell phone, sat down, dialed a number, and started ranting in Spanish. When she finished her call she got up and started to dress.

“You, too, put on clothes,” she said with a laugh. “You speak English?”

“A little,” she said modestly.

I started dressing while she kept an eye on the kid. “You work for Battista?” I inquired.

“Yes...and you kiss good.”

“Thanks. What do we do now?”

“Mr. Battista arrest men who follow us. He will soon arrest Augie Sandoval, too.” She looked down on the kid. “Battista’s men will come pick up this puta. We need him for to convict Sandoval.”

“How did Battista know that it was the last...”

“You have questions for Senõr Battista?” she broke in. “You talk to him.”

I kept asking nonetheless. “Augie could have killed me on the way here. Why did he want to go through this facade?”

“You are American. You are too much trouble for them if they kill you in the car or on street. Here they make it look like you are predator, sexual, kinky thing. It make less suspicion for drug gangs.”

“They’re worried about their image now?”

“They work very smart. Drug gangs have many tricks.”

“How did you become one of Augie’s girls?”

“Sandoval interview me last month. We fuck after that. I gain his trust, as you say, no?”

“You undercover cops are put through a lot.”

“It’s terrible, no?” she laughed. It didn’t sound like she minded at all.

“Tell me…why did you go through the charade of getting undressed and taking me to bed? You could have just told me what you were up to…”

“Was it problem for you?”

“Not at all.”

“Me, too.” She smiled.

“What’s your real name?” I ventured. “Maribel.”

“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”

“Do you want to make love?”

I thought I heard her right. “What about the puta on the floor...he’ll be watching.”

“El bano.” She pointed to the bathroom. “It’s a little tight in there, no?”

“Not us,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “We throw the puta in there.”

“What about Battista’s men?”

“Is twenty minutes not enough time for you?”

“I’ll try,” I said.

We got right to work.