Cartel Clash. Don Pendleton

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СКАЧАТЬ never met.”

      “But you said…” Her eyes sought the door, her body tensing.

      “I said I was on the same side. I came to find out what happened to him.”

      “He was killed.”

      “And why do you think that happened?”

      “If you knew who he was, then you should know why Don was here.”

      “He told you?”

      “He told me many things.” Her face crumpled as she failed to hold in her feelings. “He was going to take me with him when he was finished here.”

      “It was like that?”

      She nodded, drew in a breath and regained control.

      “We didn’t seek what happened. It just did….”

      “Were you helping Don?”

      “A little, sí.”

      “Against Benito Rojas?”

      “Sí. Against Rojas and Dembrow.”

      “Tell me who you are.”

      “Pilar Trujillo.”

      “I told you I came here to find out how Don died. That’s only part of the reason. I’m also here to put a stop to Rojas’s business.” Bolan saw the sudden gleam in her eyes. “You understand that?”

      “Yes. Rojas trades in drugs. And other things. But mainly in drugs. I know that is why Don was here. To gather information for the DEA. He had found out Rojas was waiting for an important cargo. Some new weapon he will use to fight the Americans. It was this information that got him killed. He made a slip, and it exposed who he was—an American DEA undercover agent.” Pilar fell silent. Her eyes mirrored the torment she was struggling to contain. She stared directly at Bolan. “Don was exposed and betrayed. That is why they did what they did to him. To show the Americans you cannot stand against the Rojas Cartel.”

      “Pilar, do you know how it happened? Who betrayed Don?”

      Pilar’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Sí, I know. It was one of Rojas’s lieutenants. His name is Tomas. Tomas Trujillo. He is my brother.”

      2

      “Your brother works for Rojas?”

      “He works for the Rojas Cartel, which also includes Marshal Dembrow. It is something I am not proud of. If our parents were still alive, they would disown him. Tomas is now the head of the family.”

      “What about the pair who attacked you?”

      “They are Mexicans who are part of Dembrow’s crew. They have been following me for some days, watching me because they believed I had more information Don left behind. I think they were waiting to see if I went to get it. Tomas has gone back to Mexico, to Rojas’s ranch. Since Don’s death, Rojas is suspicious of everyone. Even Dembrow.”

      Bolan filed that away. It was an interesting development, maybe something he could play on to give himself some leverage.

      “So, do you?” he asked, picking up on Pilar’s earlier remark.

      “What?”

      “You said Dembrow’s men believed you had information Manners left behind.”

      “Sí,” she said.

      Bolan pointed at the bundle on the bed. “In there?”

      “No. That was simply a distraction. I hoped they would snatch it from me and run. Give me time to get away. Foolish, maybe, but it was all I could think of at the time.”

      She unrolled the bundle and showed Bolan the contents, which were personal items from Manners’s room.

      “This is what they should have been looking for,” Pilar said, sliding her hand from a pocket of her jeans and showing a much-used silver flint lighter.

      Bolan took it from her. Turning it over in his hand he slid the outer casing from the lighter. The wad of absorbent material came free when he tugged at it. Bolan pulled it apart and found a thin, tight roll of clear plastic. He unrolled it and extracted a narrow strip of paper. The strip held a single line of neat writing—figures, and a name. The figures looked like a telephone number: a country code, followed by a local code and the number itself. The name on the paper was Calderon.

      “Don told me if anything happened I was to get the lighter and pass it on to his people in El Paso. He had not been able to transmit this last piece of evidence.”

      “No other information?”

      “Nothing. Do you believe it will help?”

      “Maybe.”

      Bolan walked over to the other side of the room and took out his sat phone and hit the speed dial for his connection to Stony Man.

      “I need a rundown on a possible phone number and a name,” he said when Barbara Price, Stony Man’s mission controller, picked up. He read off the number and the name. “Get back to me ASAP.”

      “Will do. How’s it going?”

      “Interesting,” Bolan said. And with that he ended the call.

      Pilar was watching him closely as he put the phone away.

      “I do not suppose it would do me any good to ask who you were talking to?”

      Bolan smiled. “No good at all. But I have an idea. There’s a diner just along the road. How about we go get coffee and something to eat. I haven’t had a thing since breakfast.”

      Pilar, realizing she was not about to gain any further knowledge, nodded. “Just let me use the bathroom,” she said. “I need to freshen up.”

      Finally alone, Bolan checked out the handgun he had acquired. It was a 9 mm SIG-Sauer P-226, holding a 15-round magazine. His own ordnance was still in a carry-all, secured in the motel room’s closet. The P-226 would serve his needs for the present and conserve his own supply of ammunition. He slid out the clip and saw it was full. Replacing it, he worked the first round into the breech and put the pistol behind his belt, under his shirt.

      “Hey, it’s only a diner we’re going to,” Pilar said, exiting the bathroom.

      “Well, going by some diners I’ve visited, a gun might come in handy,” Bolan said lightly.

      He saw her smile, albeit briefly.

      They left the room and walked away from the motel. The diner, on the same side of the wide street, was a few hundred yards away. The place was empty of customers. Bolan chose a booth at the far end of the room that allowed them a clear view of the interior and the door.

      Pilar watched Bolan’s actions, and it occurred to her that he was just like Manners—cautious and taking in everything СКАЧАТЬ