Hector’s Lament

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I slammed the Audi into gear and the backend fishtailed as the Pirelli’s grabbed asphalt. I looked at my watch and pounded the steering wheel with a gloved hand. It was going to be close. They would have been at the house by now. Two of them, black garb and facemasks. The claymores I planted at the front and back doors wouldn’t leave much for Hector or the cops to pick through, but it would buy me a little time.

As the Audi cut a path through the damp night, I looked over at the street sweeper in the passenger seat. Twelve rounds of buckshot death with two extra cylinders. Hector was going to hit back hard, but I wasn’t going to wait for that, I was going for shock and awe.

I looked at my watch again; I had ten minutes to get to Carlo’s house and grab the cash. If I didn’t make it in time… well I could count on Carlo to unleash hell’s fury, but he couldn’t hold out against Hector not after the mess down in Havana. A dead wife and two mil worth of missing Peruvian blue flake can motivate a man in unforeseen ways. I paddle shifted the Audi down a gear and skidded though an empty intersection, ignoring the glaring red light.

When I got to the house, Carlo was tucked into the corner of the living room with the lights out. He had a Glock in each hand and a Mossberg pump in his lap. Needless to say he was glad to see me. I slung the street sweeper over my shoulder and grabbed the duffle bag of cash.

“I see you brought South Africa’s finest.” He said pointing at the automatic shotgun. His eyes were wide and glazed with madness, like he was reliving his days with the Sandinistas. “I hope you know how to use it?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty head Carlita. Me and the old Bulldog have danced a time or two. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” I said.

Before I could move, we both heard a car pull up out front. It crept into the driveway with the headlights off. I could hear four doors open and shut quickly. Hector’s guys were already forming a tactical position around the perimeter. I looked at Carlo as I readied the shotgun. “They’ll come in careful, looking for claymores. You ready for this?”

Carlo grinned and lifted the shotgun. “Wish I had hit that blue flake before you got here.”

I ducked down by the front door ready to evaporate anything that came over the threshold. I heard a voice from the yard, it was Hector.

“Atencion mierda de perro! I know you’re in there, and I know you have what belongs to me. Let me be very clear. Make this easy and I will kill you quick.” He said.

“What happened to Sarah, that wasn’t in the plan Hector. She was my sister, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. But otherwise you can kiss my gringo ass!” I shouted back. I gave Carlo the signal and we both opened up with the shotguns. Fire, smoke and lead painted the canvas of the night and the masterpiece was signed in blood.

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