Today’s excerpt is from Bigfoot
Bait, Book #2 of the Becker Trilogy.
Salazar offers to work undercover for ATF to help bust an arms running
motorcycle gang. Enjoy and have a fantastic day.
m.j.
Carl looked
surprised. “You didn’t tell us that, Salazar.”
“Sorry—guess I
just forgot. Doesn’t mess you up, does
it?”
“No, my guys are
ready now. This bar in Columbia?”
Salazar nodded,
“Yeah,” then gave the name and address of the bar, before he added, “Might be a
good idea if I go to my place, get my bike, then go there, with your guys along
with me.”
Carl looked at
Tank and shrugged. “Sounds like a
plan. We’ll wire you up here, then
better shake a leg. I doubt we’ll be
able to make the bar by nine.”
Salazar nodded,
“Probably not, but by nine-thirty or so, I’d guess, if it doesn’t take you too
long to wire me up.”
Even as Salazar
had been speaking, Carl was up and headed out to get the gear he had in his car
to do the job. Less than ten minutes
later, the three men left in two cars—Salazar’s and the ATF car Carl was using.
After Michelle
told the three goodbye, she called Bob to report what had transpired. When she finished her report, he
laughed. “I’ll bet dollars to donuts he
winds up going with this Briefcase jerk.
Hope the ATF guy isn’t being too cute by half. Sure would hate for something bad to happen
to Salazar. Not many guys can get by
with shooting a Governor’s ear.”
Michelle laughed
before she told Bob she loved him.
Later, at the
bar—closer to ten than nine-thirty—Salazar (with Carl and Tank already inside)
went in, trailed by the six ATF agents Salazar had been introduced to when he
stopped at his apartment to get his motorcycle.
By the time he walked in, he had already forgotten four of the names
being used by the six. As he walked to
the table where Briefcase Bradley was sitting, the six ATF agents went to two
other tables.
Salazar sat
down. “I got you six guys. I can vouch for all of ‘em.”
“The six who
just followed you in?”
“Yeah.”
“Can one of them
speak for the six?”
“Sure…why?”
“Go get
him. Bring him to my table.”
“Got it.”
Salazar went to
stand between the two tables, and told them one would have to come with him, to
talk to Briefcase Bradley. Before any of
them could move, he pointed at one. “You…since
I can remember the name you gave me.”
It was all the
six could do to keep from laughing as the man pointed at got up to follow
Salazar back to the table. Once there,
Salazar introduced the two men before he and the ATF agent sat down.
Briefcase
Bradley looked at the club jacket the ATF agent was wearing. “Never heard of your outfit.”
“We like it that
way in our line of work. We’ve been
doing quite a bit of transportation work.
Not tryin’ to get a rep—except with the people we’re hauling things for. Normally don’t take work outside those we
know, and know well. But Salazar says
you’re good people. Salazar, we trust.”
“Same deal
here…as far as Salazar vouching for you guys.
Okay, here’s what I got. I’ve got
four more riders—besides you seven—so we’ve got twelve total. We’re gonna ride up to Washington…state, not
D.C. The stuff is stashed there. We load up, haul it near the Canadian border,
where we meet some folks waiting for what we have. With twelve of us, it’ll take three
trips. I’m paying three grand each, per
trip. We make one trip, get paid, then
do the next one, and so forth. You
interested?”
The ATF agent
whistled, “Wow, must be some fine product you have.”
“It is…you in?”
“You paying
expenses to get there?”
“Yeah.”
“We get paid
each trip when you get paid?”
“You do.”
“We’re in. When are we making the trip?”
“Now. As soon as I pay for my drink…and your guys
over there have paid for what they ordered.”
Salazar shook
his head. “Briefcase, I don’t know about
me going along. I might lose my job,
being gone that long.”
“Salazar, where
in the hell are you gonna make nine grand in five days? Call your boss from the road tomorrow—tell
him something came up. Lie—somebody in
the family died, or something he’s likely to go for.”
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