Sedona Chip, Book #9 of the Janitors Series - Dan checks into the wrong motel.

Today’s excerpt is from Sedona Chip, Book #9 of the nine-book Janitors Series.  Dan and Hector get a bit of an unexpected problem in Mexico to deal with…and do.  Enjoy and have a great day.

m.j.

 

Hector soon took out his cell phone and called Harry.  “Get out of that place now.  Don’t check out.  Don’t speak.  I’ll be right over to cover your back.”

With that, Hector was out of the hotel and heading for his car.  The young cousin had wanted to come along, but Hector told him “no” quite firmly.  He sped to the beachfront motel in time to see Harry walking out without his luggage.  Hector watched as Harry went to his car and drove off.  In a matter of seconds, another car pulled out and followed Harry—who spotted the tail, quickly put the hands-free attachment of his cell phone on, and waited for Hector’s call.

Hector called him.  “You’re being followed.  I know a nice little place to trap these bastards, where no one will be able to see our action.  You managed to pick a winner of a motel.  The damned place is probably owned by a drug big-shot.  We know al-Qaida is getting into drugs, so the connection might be there.”

“Yeah, whatever.  Give me directions.”

Hector laughed and directed Harry to a road out of Ensenada.  When he told Harry to turn off on a road barely more than a cow path, Harry grumbled, “Holy shit, Hec.  I’m bouncing around like a ping pong ball in my car.” 

“Then speed up.”

“Funny.”

When the car following Harry made the turn onto the same bumpy road, Hector was ready.  “Swing your car and block the road.  Um, you might want to get out the far side—and have your gun ready.”

Harry didn’t bother to offer a curt reply to that, he just did as told.  He had his seat belt off before he stopped, slid across the front seat, and got out.  He had his gun leveled at the approaching car as the driver noticed the car now blocking his way, and tried to swerve around and head the other way, but didn’t have room, and bounced into some underbrush.

By this time, Hector had bounced down the path himself, and slammed on his brakes to stop about seventy feet from the other car.  As he got out of his car, he yelled, ‘Shoot to wound, if you can—we need someone to talk to.”

At the exact moment, the driver of the middle car got out and started to raise a gun in Hector’s direction.  Ignoring what he had just told Harry, Hector shot him in the head.  The other two men in the car got out the other side.  One raised a gun in Harry’s direction, just as Harry shot the other one in the knee.  He quickly swung his gun and shot the man aiming the gun in the gun-hand shoulder.  Undaunted, the gunman grabbed the gun out of his right with his left, and started to raise the gun again.  Harry shot him in the forehead.

By then the wounded man had hopped around the car, took his gun out, and tried to aim at Harry.  Hector shot him in the wrist—shattering it and nearly severing the hand.  The rounds used by the Janitors were explosive in nature, and very destructive when they hit.

Hector raced forward, quickly checked the pulse of the first man he’d shot, then went to the twice-wounded man.  He was slumping down, and soon collapsed to the ground.  He was bleeding to death.  Hector looked down and saw the blood gushing out of the wound in his knee—and the same from the nearly severed hand—and shrugged his shoulders as Harry, who had checked to find the other man dead, walked up.  He looked down at the dying man and joked, “You gonna question him, you better hurry.”

Hector just gave him a dirty look, then looked at the position of the car that had carried the dead men, and asked, “You think you can pull around them, without trashing your car?”

“Yeah, I think so.  I have a question.  Who are we gonna question, now that these guys didn’t cooperate?”

“I’ve got a few ideas, but let’s keep in mind that Nasser is our first concern, and I don’t want to get in the middle of a drug gang out for our hides.”

“I’ve got an idea.  What say I go back and check out of the motel?”

“Are you nuts?”

“Hear me out.  These three thugs are now dead.  How many can one motel conveniently keep around for little errands—like trying to kill me, or whatever they were going to do?”

“Probably too damn many.  But I do see your point.  They had time to call for these guys after I left, and before I called you.  Let’s do it.  I’ll go in first and hang around.  You do your thing, and we’ll see what we see.”

 

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