Page 94 of Being Lost

I hear the intake of breath all around me. We were on the wrong track, there is a tunnel, but it’s not being used from what I thought. Sounds to me like Alder’s found a trade to supplement the loss of income from his drugs. Maybe he’s been doing it all along—people trafficking, one way or another. I doubt any of those immigrants coming through that tunnel end up where they expect, and as for people going in the opposite direction, my stomach churns when I think about what’s happening to them.

“We,” I indicate the men standing around me. As I do, I notice the expressions on their faces, in the main disgust, some, like Pennywise, dismay that this was a man they once called brother. “We,” I begin again, “know what part we have to play. But so we don’t trip over each other, what precisely is your role, Shark?”

Again he puffs out his chest. The man’s so stupid, he thinks we’re all in this together. “I get the merchandise onto the transport. Stop any making a break for freedom. See? They’ve paid to get into the States and expect it to be the end of their journey. They want to go meet up with family in some cases, so I need to persuade them to stick around. Alder has other plans for them.”

Yeah. As I suspected, Alder makes a fortune out of people possibly giving him their last cent for the promise of a new life in America. Well, on the whole, illegal immigration doesn’t bother me, I don’t abide by citizen’s laws. What doesn’t sit well is people who take advantage. Wives could be meeting up with husbands or kids, their parents or other family. Instead, my bet is that they’ll find themselves used as slave labour instead.

“You gonna let me down now?” Shark asks hopefully. “I’ve told you everything.”

Not quite. “Which shipment are you waiting on?” Dart asks casually. “Tonight’s?”

“Nah, Tuesday.” He stills. “You mean, there’s one tonight? But it’s Sunday. Enrico never mentioned that.”

Dart slams the heel of his hand against his head. “Fuck me, my bad. I can’t remember what day of the week it is.”

I give a good-natured chuckle while Shark’s expression makes him look like he’s working with a bunch of amateurs. “How many on your team, Shark?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’m just wondering how many I’ll need to send along.”

He thinks for a moment, then answers, “Me and Enrico deal with it.”

“Just the two of you?” I’m genuinely surprised.

Shark gives an unpleasant smirk. “Doesn’t take many when they’re weak and unarmed, and you’re carrying guns and tasers.”

Welcome to the good ol’ US of A.Guns and fucking tasers.

“We’re new to this.” I’m wondering how long I can string him along. “Interested in meeting the top man himself. Will Alder be there?”

“Sometimes he is, sometimes he stays in Mexico. If he’s stateside, he occasionally wants to see what new stock he’s got.”

I’ll just have to hope he’s curious tomorrow.It’s an important shipment.I don’t know why, but hope there’s a chance if it is, he’ll be there to check it all goes well.

“Look, that’s it. I can’t tell you anything else. Seeing as we’re both on the same side, are you going to untie me now?”

I eye him thoughtfully for a moment. Then smile and nod. “Yeah, Shark, you’ve told us everything. Salem?” I wave the enforcer forward as though I’m going to instruct him to let Shark down, then hold up my hand to halt him. “Oh, first. We’ve been asked to watch out for a Patsy Foster. What do you know about her?”

Shark shakes his head. “Not a clue, only what you’ve been told I suspect. Just that Alder wants her found.”

I eye him for a moment, wondering if I’ve got all I’m going to get. I think it is, in comparison to what the enforcer can do, my interrogation methods are tame. So I do what any good manager does, I use the skills at my disposal.

“All yours, Salem.”

Shark grins, then his face starts to fall as instead of approaching him to untie the ropes, Salem instead approaches the workbench and walks back to the out bad member carrying some tools, and a bottle.

It’s when the brandy hits the man’s back that he starts to scream. “You can’t do this. Alder needs me. I’ve got to be there.”

“Is that right?” Salem asks, setting the blowtorch alight.

“Yeah!” Shark yells. “You know him. If I’m not there...” his voice trails off as he realises if he doesn’t turn up it will be because he’ll be somewhere Alder and no one else will be able to hurt him.

Salem stares at me. I reckon we’ve got all we’re going to get, but I hold up my hand to ask one more thing.

“Where are Tinder, DJ, Crow, Rattler and Bastard? They working with Alder too?”

“I’ve no fuckin’ idea!” Shark cries out what I think is a truthful response. “We went separate ways.”

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