“How will he feel about meeting me?”

“He’s the type of guy who will help anyone he thinks is working for the right side. The first time I went to his office to meet him, he pretended to throw me out, but slipped me a piece of paper with a time and location to meet him later. We’ll also show him the pictures of those two guys from the apartment security cameras who did the hit in Canada.”

“I nicknamed the one guy El Burla for sneer and Lobulo for —”

“Hey, guys! How are you doing?” interrupted Weber as he and Davidson arrived.

“Doing great.” Jack smiled.

“What did you do this afternoon?” asked Davidson casually.

“We checked out the Cactus Sunset and then the Armadillo Motel to see where I would be staying on Wednesday,” replied Jack. “After that we went for a drive and had a cold beer.”

“What do you think of our city?” asked Weber.

“I like it,” replied Jack. He glanced at Adams and added, “Seems like there are some really good people around here.”

Jack saw the trace of a smile of appreciation on Adams’s face as they briefly stared at each other. What he didn’t notice was the subtle wink Davidson gave Weber.

chapter twenty-four

Jack woke, had breakfast, and was waiting in the lobby at nine o’clock when he spotted the metallic-silver Camaro and went out to meet Adams.

“Hey there, two-gun gringo, how you doin’?” asked Jack.

“I don’t have a hangover, so that’s good.”

“You only had two drinks last night.”

“I don’t like to drink much in front of Davidson and Weber. Besides, I had to drive. How long did you have to put up with them?” asked Adams.

“Not late,” replied Jack. “They left shortly after you did. I was tired. I wanted to get a good night’s sleep.”

“Good. This morning when I dropped in to pick up the car, I told them I was taking you around to familiarize you with the various nightspots in El Paso. I said it might come in handy for you to know the area for when you do your undercover stuff.”

“Good thinking.”

“You have breakfast yet?”

“Already ate.”

“Likewise. Let’s get to work.”

An hour later, Adams pulled up and parked near a small bridge southwest of the city. A U.S. Customs booth was on one end and a Mexican Customs booth was on the other.

“Get out and take a look,” said Adams. “You probably won’t believe it.”

Jack got out of the car and walked up to the bridge. A small stream of Mexicans walked across the bridge and were stopping to be checked at U.S. Customs. Jack walked to the far side of the bridge, stopping short of the Mexican Customs. Below the bridge on one side was a clump of bushes. The growth on the opposite side the bank was sparse and he could see dozens of Mexicans walking across the small stream and clamouring up the far bank to enter the United States without clearing customs.

“You’re right, I don’t believe it,” said Jack, getting back in the car.

“Only the honest ones clear customs,” said Adams bitterly. “We don’t have the manpower to rein in the thousands who cross illegally. Most work here during the day and go back the same way at night.”

“That shallow stream they walk through … I thought it was the Rio Grande that separated you from Mexico?”

“That is the Rio Grande. Most of the water has been run off for irrigation long before the river reaches here. Out here it is easy to cross, although there is talk of building a high wall as a barrier, so maybe that will change. I’ll take you back to El Paso and show you other places in the city that aren’t quite as easy as out here in the countryside.”

As they approached El Paso, Adams turned up the volume on a police radio. It was a report of gunfire at the bridge where they had just been. The customs agents in the booth at the end of the bridge said someone was firing shots at them from the clump of bushes on the Mexican side.

“Are we heading back to help?” asked Jack.

Adams shook his head. “It would be over before we got there. They do it all the time. The good news is the Mexicans are lousy shots, except of course for the ones we trained and who were then hired by the cartels.”

“Actually, I’m a crummy shot, too,” admitted Jack. “What did you mean about that last comment? The ones you trained who joined the cartels?”

“It’s not common knowledge and normally I wouldn’t talk about it, but someone has already let the cat out of the bag on the Internet.

“Like toothpaste out of the tube. Hard to put it back in once it’s out.”

“Exactly. What happened was someone in Washington woke up and realized we were losing this so-called War on Drugs. Cartels are popping up everywhere in Mexico and a lot of them are at war with each other as they continue to expand and take over territory. Washington realized it would only be a matter of time before they firmly establish themselves in the U.S. and elsewhere.”

“Like Canada.”

“Yeah, so someone figured it would be a good idea to try and contain the bloodbath in Mexico. Our government trained an elite group of Mexican soldiers to be expert commandos and snipers. I don’t think there would be anything on paper about it, but basically it was implied that the Mexican government could use these guys to selectively take out the heads of some of the cartels.”

“Can’t say as I feel real opposed to that idea,” replied Jack.

“I feel the same way. Except it backfired. The cartels pay a lot more money than the military does. A lot of the commandos we trained were hired by the cartels … and they can shoot the eye out of a scorpion up to a mile away.”

“Something I should probably keep in mind,” said Jack sombrely.

The next spot Adams took Jack was near the centre of El Paso. The Rio Grande basin had widened a little and a high chain-link fence acted as a barrier. Adams parked the car and said, “No use getting your feet wet. Sit and watch a moment.”

Within a couple of minutes, Jack saw two Mexican men and a woman approach the fence from the Mexican side. They walked a short distance to a clump of bushes and suddenly appeared on the American side.

“The fence has been cut there,” noted Adams. “Happens all the time. When we repair it, they cut it again someplace else.”

“Sounds like that wall you said they’re thinking of building is needed.”

“It should help.” Adams gestured to the Mexican side of the border. “I want you to take a good look at all the buildings so you can remember them in case you have to come through that way to escape. We’re only about a mile upstream from the Bridge of the Americas, which is the biggest legal entry and exit point into Juarez. Don’t under any circumstances think of trying to cross that bridge if you’re on the run.”

“The Mexican Customs are bought off?”

“Everyone is. The police, military, customs … everyone.”

“Dangerous country,” replied Jack.

“I doubt you have any idea how dangerous. I stayed awake half the night last night wondering whether I should tell you some stuff.”

“What sort of stuff?”

“I have special military training. Occasionally I’m still used for covert missions. There are some things I’ve learned that people wouldn’t appreciate me talking about.”

“Then don’t tell me.”

“A couple of things I think I should, just so you’ll appreciate what goes on around here. The first thing I already told you.”

“About the U.S. training assassins?”

“Exactly. Something else that happened is we Americans are getting blamed for something in Mexico we didn’t do. There was a third powerful cartel in Juarez and all the kingpins of it were basically family members. They lived in five mansions on a mammoth estate out in the desert. They had their own runway, planes, helicopter crews … and a small army guarding it. One night seven unmarked Huey choppers packed with commandos flew in and killed all the top guys and anyone else they thought was involved with the cartel. The choppers then flew away, apparently without suffering a casualty. Everybody was pointing their fingers at us … but I know it wasn’t us.”