Page 54 of Mouse Trapped

“Sure, Prez.” As the other brothers make their way to the bar, I follow him into his office. It isn’t empty as I’d expected, there’s a man sitting there. A man with an ugly jagged scar running down his face.

“Devil,” I exclaim, stepping forward and holding out my hand. There’ve been a couple of times the Satan’s Devils and Grade A Security have worked together for our mutual benefit.

His fingers wrap around mine. “Good to see you, Mouse.”

“You on the clock?” Drummer asks. “Or would you like a drink?”

The Englishman attempts a smile, but as only one side of his mouth turns up, it’s not very effective. “Knowing the quality of the whisky you keep behind your desk, Drum, I’ll gladly take a dram.”

As Drummer pours two shots—he doesn’t bother asking me—I take a seat, waiting while Devil smacks his lips in appreciation.

“Have you got any information?” I ask, impatiently. The fact I’m in this meeting means Devil may have answers for me.

He parks himself in the chair by my side, and rather than answering mine, poses a question of his own. “You get very far tracking down De Souza?”

“The father? No. His military records just seem to end for no reason. I passed everything on that I found. I got no further than that.”

The only corner of his mouth which can move, nudges higher. “I thought not.” He takes another sip of his drink. “He’s an interesting character. Or perhaps, I should say, one that very many people are interested in.”

I raise an eyebrow, and jerk my chin toward my prez. “And?” I prompt.

“He was in the army, never made it above sergeant before he got a dishonourable discharge. But he likes to play the soldier, so he’s given the title General to himself.”

Drummer leans his elbows on the desk. “Dishonourable discharge? I thought any behaviour of the type leading to that kind of expulsion would have been encouraged. Wasn’t the army responsible for genocide?”

“Not when you get three members of your own team murdered. And in particularly nasty ways. And when several leads pointed to you being responsible, their deaths being to your benefit.”

“What did he do after that?” Understand the history, join the dots, know the man.

“Well, he was no boy scout. Joined a gang, rose up the ranks.” He pauses to pass his now empty shot glass back to the prez. Drummer refills it. “You know my interest in slave trafficking? Well, he’s come up quite a lot.”

“So why did you have to search for him, if you already know the name?”

“Ah, because that’s not the name he’s known for.” He nods at me. “Already made some useful progress, with the history you’ve passed to me through Drummer, we were able to follow the trail. You started from the beginning, we were able to start at the end and work back. I had a hunch, it paid off. The name we had wasEl Procurador, The Procurer.”

Prez sharpens his eyes. “Procurer of what? Or don’t I want to know?”

Devil raises and lowers his shoulders. “Whatever you want to get a hold of. Guns, drugs, slaves. And on the latter, he’s not too concerned whether it’s women or children for sex, or men to work your fields. Pay the right price, he can get whatever you want.” As my eyebrows rise, he adds, “Heavy artillery if you’re looking for it.”

“Jesus,” Drummer exclaims.

“Yeah. That about sums it up. We knew what they called him, but not who he was or where he came from. When Mouse got me looking for a General De Souza, I tracked down what we knew of him. It was the key to us putting two and two together. Thanks to your man here, his identity is now known.”

I seem to be floating above this conversation. Hearing it, but not participating. I knew it would be bad if Mariana was deported, but just how bad, I’d had no idea. “I’ve got to get this information to her lawyer.” Suddenly I’m spurred into action. As I start rising to my feet, Devil puts his hand on my arm.

“Not so fast, Mouse. We’ve got to think carefully how we handle this new intelligence, and how it affects Mariana. This knowledge is critical to taking him down, and we need to have time to do that. We can’t have it discussed in an open court.”

“You’re worried that once he knows you’ve learned the connection, he’ll disappear?” Prez’s eyebrows rise.

Devil nods. “Seems a fair bet he’d reinvent himself again.”

They’re not worried about my woman. “Mariana will be in danger if she returns…”

The security consultant, or whatever he regards himself as, sighs. “It’s not her who he wants. It’s the boy.”

“Drew? Why?”

“It’s all supposition on my part, Mouse. But I’ve been finding things out and adding them up.” He glances at me, I nod.Data. Joining it all up.“He was injured before he was discharged. Nasty injury, especially for a man. Medical records show he’s infertile.”

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