T Parker: The border Lords

Later he felt his body return and he got up for another whiskey and retrieved his laptop from the duffel and he wrote an e-mail to Seliah even though he knew it might be a while before she could read it. From: Sean Gravas [sGravas23@zephyr.net] Sent: Monday, October 31, 2011 11:49 p.m. To: Gravas, Seliah Subject: for when you wake up Dear Seliah, Welcome back to the land of the LIVING, sweet woman! You must be exhausted! The important things are to rest and eat right and get up and move around as SOON as you can. You might want to do it in the water. If you're right about that virus, then your aversion to water would be attributable to it, and now that you've awakened and BEATEN BACK that virus, you can return to the water that you always loved. Three alleged wise men PROMISED me that you would live if I repented and I did repent though the whole thing seemed pretty much beside the point. When you've done and seen what I have, does your contrition really matter? To who, and why?

I don't know what happened. I know they can take me but they CAN'T take away my love for you. It will live until the last beat of my heart. And if, as some people say, what we do in life can reach beyond our deaths, then my love WILL touch you someday when you least expect it! I wish it could have been through a daughter or a son. I'll try to get Daisy back to you, though a dog isn't much of a substitute for a child. So listen for me in the silences and I'll be there, standing off to the side, waiting in the shadows, TOUCHING you like the wind, invisible but present. You're young enough to START again and to have it ALL. I want you to have it ALL. Remember me fondly and keep open a comfortable room in your heart for me. I'll be there and I won't be a bother. Live well. Love well. Multiply. The world needs more of you. I'd be honored if you named your first son after me. With Love Everlasting, Sean

A few minutes later Ozburn called Paco's number and gave the time and place to him.

"Bring Silvia or there is no deal, Paco."

"But if there's no deal, we will kill Silvia."

"Paco, evolve. Bring Silvia or you'll never get the guns. I'll take her from there. I'll get her home."

After a long silence Paco agreed.

Next Ozburn called Hood and gave him the same place but an earlier time.

"I heard about Lancaster," he said.

"What a mess, Charlie. LASD?"

"Yes. Two of them died. And three of Herredia's couriers. The other one is critical."

"They tried to take me out, Charlie. I figured someone had tipped the deal to the Gulf Cartel. So I did what I had to do to survive. But I've got your guns. And I've got the Gulf Cartel's money. All I need is a ribbon to tie it all up with. Day after tomorrow, Charlie. Will you be there?"

"I'll be there."

"They'll have a girl named Silvia with them. I saved her from death and she lives in Agua Blanca. Promise me you'll get her home."

"I promise."

"It's been a good run. I'm tired."

"I can see Seliah right now," Hood said.

"What is she doing? How does she look?"

"Sleeping. She looks far away."

"When will they bring her out of it?"

"Soon. The antibody counts are almost there. She's almost fought it off."

Ozburn felt his throat constrict and the tears come to his eyes. They burned hot and spilled over. "It's hard to talk right now."

"Sean, the real test is what's she's got left. There will some brain damage. It might be severe. It might be… not so bad."

Ozburn said nothing. He pictured his wife again, fair and frozen deep within the coma.

"Oz, we still have a deal? You're going to help us take down these creeps day after tomorrow. Then we're going to see Seliah. Is that right?"

"Soriana didn't like my idea."

"No."

Silence. "I didn't think he would. So, I'm yours, Charlie. The guns and money and I will be in a white Chevy Malibu."

He hung up.

Two evenings later Hood sat on the roof of a Vernon warehouse with his knees up and the night-vision binoculars in his hands. He was partially hidden by a ventilation housing in which a canister fan spiraled patiently beside him. He had a good sight line to the parking lot behind the warehouse, where Ozburn would deliver the ninety remaining Love 32s.

Overhead the stars shimmered meekly, their vigor blanched by the lights of L.A. The night was crisp and cool. Vernon was an industrial city with an actual full-time population of ninety-one, making it the smallest city in Los Angeles County. But its dozens of factories and processing and rendering plants employed some fifty-thousand workers. Hood was a fan of Vernon's best-known product-the oversize hot dogs sold at Dodger Stadium. And he knew that this portion of the city had been carved out by MS-13 gangsters tied to Benjamin Armenta's Gulf Cartel.

He looked out at Pacific Avenue, where agent Robert Velasquez sat astride his Kawasaki at the curb. Velasquez was wrapped in black leathers and a black full-face helmet. Bly was in her gray Jeep, parked at the far end of the dark lot. Morris was on the sidewalk just outside the wrought-iron security fence that surrounded the parking lot and the warehouse, wearing a dark hoodie and sweats and beat-up running shoes. Hood could see him limbering up for his run, folding into his hamstring stretches now that his jumping jacks were done. Six more ATF agents in three vehicles were obscured in the darkness within a two-hundred-foot radius from the parking lot, and these would form the second wave. All ten were armed and linked by wireless radio headsets. Blowdown would make the first contact; the six others would do what needed to be done.

Hood watched the white Malibu turn from the avenue into the lot and in the wash of light from the streetlamp he caught the flash of Sean Ozburn's hair and pale face and the dark lenses of his sunglasses. The car prowled the fenced perimeter, past Velasquez on the avenue and Bly in the lot, and finally Ozburn pulled diagonally across two parking places directly below Hood. The engine stopped and the lights went off.

Ozburn sat without moving. Hood watched him through his night-vision binoculars. Oz looked exhausted, his face tilted down as if he were studying something on the steering wheel. He wore a bulky coat with the collar turned up against the chill and his usual sunglasses and a black bandana across his forehead. Hood remembered the Ozburn he had known just a few short months ago, the Ozburn who was alert and brave and strongly made and beautifully trained, and now Hood felt only an angry sadness for the man. Hood wanted to fly down the fire escape ladder and run out and tackle him. Then drag him to UCI Medical where they could try to beat back his disease. So he could see his wife again. And after that? Even with two miracle cures, was there an after that? Hood couldn't picture Ozburn spending the rest of his life in prison. He scanned the interior of the car for signs of Daisy but saw none. Not like Sean to be without her, he thought.

A shiny black Tahoe swung into the lot, blacked-out windows and custom wheels. It followed the same route that Ozburn had, then parked three stalls away from the Malibu. All four doors opened at once and four men stepped out. The driver was tall and slender and the others were short and thick. They looked young, and a lot like the safe house assassins Sean had rubbed out. Like spirits come to take their vengeance, thought Hood.

He saw Dyman Morris jog into his field of view, coming slowly down the sidewalk. Velasquez sat his bike. Bly was not visible but Hood knew she was scrunched down in the seat, watching the deal in her mirrors, using the adjustment toggle to follow the action.

"Oz isn't moving," whispered Hood. By the playbook, Blowdown wouldn't make their move until everyone was out of their vehicles-always the chance somebody would spook and try to speed off. "Four couriers are out. I don't see any guns. Sean's taking his time."