Michael McGarrity - Tularosa

Borderland Storage. Kerney drove past two parked cars and stopped at the locked front gate.

There was no sign of Eddie. He cruised for a block before swinging back for another pass. His headlights picked up fresh skid marks and small bits of reflective plastic in the middle of the street near the cars. One car had a Chihuahua license plate. He couldn't see the other license plate, but there was damage to both vehicles. That was enough for Kerney. He turned onto a side street, killed the engine, and got his pistol from the glove box. His knee barely tolerated the shock as he trotted to the cars. He was halfway there when he heard Eddie scream.

There was something wet and sticky in Eddie's left eye. He blinked, squinted, looked up, and saw Carlos standing over him. Before he could move, he felt a horrible pain in his right hand. He screamed, and screamed again as Carlos stomped on his other hand. Gasping, he shook his head, trying to stay conscious.

"You bastard." It was all he could manage. His hands felt cemented to the asphalt.

"You speak pretty good English for a jorobado," Carlos said, lighting another cigarette, waiting for Eddie to pull himself together.

"What are you doing here, Eddie?"

"Fuck off," Eddie answered, trying to move his right hand. Carlos hit him in the mouth. Eddie's head bounced off the tank. He sucked in a deep breath and waited for the throbbing to stop.

"Are you working with that gringo Kerney?" Carlos asked. Eddie shook his head.

"No."

"You're a lying piece of shit," Carlos retorted, balling his hand to a beefy fist. Eddie turned his head so Carlos wouldn't hit him in the mouth again. The punch caught him high on the cheek. Eddie winced and sucked in more air. Blood made it impossible to see out of his left eye.

"Finished?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"Just starting, you puta. Tell me why you're here."

"I'll tell you," Eddie replied. "Just don't hit me again, all right?" Carlos relaxed and nodded approvingly.

Kerney stood behind Carlos, at the corner of the warehouse, with a finger at his lips.

"Give me a minute, will you?" Eddie asked.

"Sure, but make it fast. I don't have time to play with you." Eddie coughed and mumbled something under his breath.

"What?" Carlos asked.

"I said fuck you," Eddie replied as Kerney brought the pistol butt down on Carlos's head. Eddie liked it a lot when Kerney hit Carlos again.

"Madre de Dios, I'm glad to see you," he said, staring at Carlos's prone body. Kerney reached for his hand to help him to his feet.

"Not the hands," Eddie barked.

"He broke all my fingers."

Kerney knelt down and looked. It was too dark to see the extent of the damage. Kerney grabbed Eddie under the arms, lifted him to his feet, and propped him against the propane tank.

"I think I'm going to faint," Eddie said.

"Hold on." Kerney took out a handkerchief, pushed the flap of loose skin back into place against Eddie's forehead, and dabbed the blood from his eye.

"Thanks," Eddie said weakly. Kerney kept his hand on Eddie's chest to hold him upright. He could feel Eddie's rapid heartbeat.

"How's your head?"

"Spinning."

"Can you stand without falling?" Eddie, eyes closed, waited for the sensation to subside before he answered.

"Of course I can."

"Are you sure?" Eddie opened his eyes and made a face. His teeth hurt.

"Just don't ask me to walk yet." Kerney let go, retrieved Eddie's wallet and badge case from the asphalt, and searched Carlos. He found a key, a card, and some money in a coat pocket. He used Carlos's cigarette lighter to inspect the stuff.

"What have you got?" Eddie asked.

"A way into the storage compound." He held up the folded bills.

"Your money?"

"Army funds," Eddie said. "Keep it for me." Kerney nodded, used his belt to tie Carlos's hands behind his back, flipped him over, and positioned him within kicking distance of Eddie's foot.

"I'll be back in a minute. If Carlos wakes up while I'm gone, kick him in the nuts."

"Gladly," Eddie replied. It took only a few minutes for Kerney to return, cuff Carlos, and dump him in the bed of the truck. Under the glare of the headlights he sat Eddie down and inspected his hands. The knuckles were fractured. He bandaged them with tape from his first-aid kit while Eddie winced and refused to look.

"How are they?" he asked when Kerney finished.

"Broken," Kerney answered, cleaning Eddie's head wound and covering it with a Band-Aid.

"I know that. How bad?" Eddie demanded. Kerney considered what to say as he pulled Eddie to his feet.

"You'll be fine after the doctors work on you," he promised. "I've seen a lot worse."

"You're not lying to me?"

"No, I'm not. Let's get you to a hospital."

"No way," Eddie said gamely.

"First I want to see what's in that storage unit."

"You need a doctor."

"So do you, for chrissake," Eddie retorted.

"Are you sure you're up to it?"

"Yeah. Let's go look. I want to see if all the shit you told me is real."

"So do I," Kerney agreed. He left Eddie alone in the glare of the headlights, got behind the wheel of the truck, and opened the passenger door. If Eddie couldn't walk under his own steam, he would take him directly to the hospital. Eddie stood with a disgusted look on his face, his bandaged hands cradled at his chest. He wobbled to the truck and climbed in. Kerney reached over and closed the door. Kerney opened the overhead garage door to the storage unit, turned on the lights, and drove his truck inside. Scattered around the room were sealed crates, packing boxes, and wardrobe trunks. He got a tire iron from the truck, walked to a large wooden crate, and pried it open while Eddie stood next to him.

"Madre de Dios," Eddie said. The crate was filled with dozens of antique Army rifles, all in mint condition.

"Isn't that something?" Kerney asked with amazement. They moved on and found military uniforms by the dozen, boxes filled with spurs, saddle blankets, and headgear, and crates brimming with sabers, pistols, and scabbards. One large box held cavalry saddles by the score. Reading Gutierrez's list was one thing, but actually seeing the cache was mind boggling The urge to open everything was almost irresistible. Kerney forced himself to stop, checked on Carlos, who hadn't stirred, and dragged him out of the bed of the truck.

"Have you seen enough?" he asked Eddie as he propped Carlos against a packing crate.

"Amazing," Eddie replied.

"It's like something from a movie." Carlos started to come around. He groaned and looked at Kerney with hate-filled eyes.

"You hit me pretty hard, gringo," he said.

"You'll live," Kerney said.

"You won't," Carlos replied, glancing at Eddie. Kerney lifted Carlos's chin with the point of the tire iron.

"Pay attention to me, Carlos. No threats. Cooperate and I won't fuck you up. Give me the names of Benton's partners."

"Eat shit," he answered. Kerney poked the tire iron into Carlos's Adam's apple, cutting the skin. Blood trickled from the wound.

"I'll make a deal with you, Carlos. Talk and I won't rip out your larynx." He dug the tip in farther, and Carlos started choking. Unable to speak, Carlos nodded his head.

"Who were Benton's partners?"

"I know only one other," Carlos answered. "A gringo, like you."

"His name?" Kerney increased the pressure slightly.

"I don't know. Senor De Leon did business with him privately."

"What kind of business?" Kerney demanded, pressing a bit harder at Carlos's Adam's apple.

"I don't know," Carlos gurgled.

A voice behind Kerney spoke.

"He's telling you the truth, Lieutenant."

Kerney pivoted to find James Meehan looking at him over the barrel of a pistol. For some reason, Kerney wasn't surprised. "Captain Meehan."