He'd sold out to feds, and he was paying for it now. They'd left him to be taken by his own after he redirected them to the targets they wanted. He lay here now, dying in the sun. He was beaten. Both of them were.
Klet sat on the back seat, holding his leg, Avan was racing down the Mexican highway. Klet wasn't the most talkative, and Avan would of preferred not talking too. That was how they were. But Avan figured Klet would just get more worried in the silence, so he passed a few cars and started talking.
"You never get the right connections, eh?"
Klet was silent, but Avan wanted him to get off the idea of his wound.
"What were you thinking? To trust the guy with the crooked shades you had just met...He was more crooked than the shades, I tell ya, and you thought he'd give you a fair cut for the job. Look at what happened! You didn't get anything."
Klet opened his eyes after that, they were pale. Avan knew he could get something to wake him up.
"I didn't get anything 'cause the guy got busted...turned out he was getting the packages from the feds...He screwed me over...said I was the head of...ungh...of the whole operation since the...rest of his crew had fled to Mexico...by then...I had to...I had to flee, myself..."
Flight to MexicoEdit
Three hours ago Klet had heard knocks at his door just after hanging up the phone. His connection's crew had threatened him, and he figured it was the feds. He knew escape by window might be expected, so he prepared to get into his attic and hide under the rafters for awhile before making leaping off his bungalow in an attempt for a mad dash.
He managed to close the trapdoor seconds before his front door was rammed open and a "Mr. Orealy, this is the FBI! You're under arrest for drug trafficking!" echoed throughout his house. He could hear them running all over his house, opening his drawers, and probably already found the packages of drug filled candles. He decided he shouldn't stick around any longer when they tried to force the trapdoor and jumped through his attic window.
His landing wasn't exactly as good as he planned. He got several bruises, since he didn't fall on his feet and at least two cuts due to the glass shards. He commented to himself that life isn't as easy as the movies, and chuckled while running towards the home of the only person he knew that could help him, ignoring the pain. Four feds were there, two were inside the house while one waited in a car, to prevent a possible run.
He had to take a quick run to through his yard. That left his main threat chasing after him. He took a quick run around a house, passing a garbage since it probably wouldn't hold safe for very long. He had to act quick though. Search dogs, who had been brought for finding drugs, could now be heard, and he figured he couldn't outrun them. He took off his vest and made it through another yard.
Before he knew, a dog was behind him. Klet quickly turned around, muffled its face and stabbed it with some glass in its legs before running off again, the feds right on his back. He jumped in some bushes, hearing a gunshot. While a fed was tending to the hurt dog, Klet rolled downhill, getting up to run towards the ravine. He felt one of his legs get hit by second shot that was fired at him, and was only able to leap in the shallow water and go with the current, which fortunately went to Avan's living.
The fed was following him with less enthusiasm, probably instructing a fed in the car where they were. He wished he had taken his cell phone, though he wouldn't have time to call anyone. He took a break after he was deeper into the woods, he'd have to hike towards Avan's.
It was about half an hour before Klet could hear a helicopter in the distance, they probably were going to search him out with thermal detectors. He had stayed just out of view of the river, and decided to cool himself off by diving under with his leg which was really starting to hurt. He could see it was behind him, so he hurried towards Avan's.
When it got close, he took a breath and tried to go as low as he could, and held on to the bottom, the flowing water taking the heat. Eventually, he lost his oxygen reserves and instinct alone forced him to surface. Klet hurried to Avan's, and was there within the next half of an hour.
The house was also a bungalow, and blended in with the neighbourhood. Avan's compact was pulled in on the lot. Klet limped to the door, jumping as a car drove by. He knocked at the door frantically. Hoping Avan would open the door before the feds catch up with hi...Oh, his leg hurt so much!
A short while after he started whacking the door even harder, it opened and, seeing the awful state of his friend, Avan couldn't help but to exclaim "Oh my God! What happened to you!?". Klet didn't answer, he just said: "I need your car.".
"You can't drive like this!" exclaimed a surprised Avan.
Klet rolled his eyes, grunted in pain and said "Look...the feds are after me...just give me your...ungh...your car.". Avan, oh loyal Avan, went inside his home and came back, less than a minute later, with his car keys "Get in the car. I'll drive. How the hell did ya get in this mess anyway? It better not be your newest connection in Mexico."
"The bitches sure love the smell of coke in the morning, eh, ese?" The man with crooked shades had said a few days ago. He had called Klet for a "business meeting" in his palatial three story mansion, the biggest in all Esperanza. The whole place seemed to be hand-picked for ostentation. Everything was either from ivory, ebony, silver or gold. Women in "bikinis" walking around, rubbing themselves on the man and sniffing coke, like the happy well-paid prostitutes they were.
"Anyone does. Though I prefer selling it, really.", he gave a small chuckle, "You seem to have a bit of a border crossing to do. I could carry it over. Haven't crossed for awhile, so it wouldn't be suspicious, especially since I have a clean record. And I'm not one to ask for a nominal fee, just a bit of slack for carrying it over a red zone. I wouldn't be able to stab you in the back, since I don't know your name."
Klet sat back. This commission would work great, since his new friend needed to send a shipment over quickly, and his connections were a little weak from a recent border project. The shipment would fit well enough as padding, so he could even get by from a trunk search.
"Bueno amigo, bueno. Mexico is the new Colombia, you know? Your presidente is too busy protecting the air-space from their planes to care with little things, like land. And you gringos whine so much about how easy it is for illegals to get in, huh, ese? Now you make money doing the same." he said, sipping from a wine glass.
"Well, it looks like we gringos aren't the only ones making money here." Klet said, chuckling, "You got a nice place.". The man took his shades off and said, in a more serious tone and a thicker accent: "You keep working for me, you buy one in less than a year. You cross me, and I'll cut you in so many pieces that what's left of you will fit in...una caja de fosforos."
Klet nodded, he knew he had to be careful with these people and the shades made it hard to tell when his connection was poking fun and when it was a serious threat. He knew he couldn't ask for references, it was common policy to avoid the feds spreading like a disease through their trade. Klet preferred staying sober, but he knew their was profit and he always liked finding holes in systems, especially political systems. But his new friend seemed a little cocky, and he wanted to look into the links. Still, besides seeming like a fed, it'd also be a strike at the man's pride. And striking pride was a bad move, Klet had learned that first hand before he figured out the thick net of taboos.
"If you take job for small cut, I'll let you in on bigger projects. Shipment to Brazil in a few months, beautiful country.". Klet put the wine glass on the center table, got up from the sofa and said "It's a deal then. It'll be good doing business with you. The package will be in place by tomorrow, then?".
"Sí. Take it, drive it across the border, wait a few weeks and you'll have mucho dinero waiting for you in that account, un trabajo fácil. I hope this is only the beginning of a very profitable friendship, for both of nosotros, ese." he took Klet's hand an shook it. Klet nodded.
Back to The PresentEdit
"Yeah, so that wasn't the wisest of choices...ungh...I should have noted his arrogance, but I was blinded by what it had got him...How much time till we get into Mexico anyway?" said Klet, sill holding his leg. It has been only fifty minutes since they left Avan's bungalow, but he he already couldn't wait until they got into Mexico.
He just hoped they managed to reach it before the FBI got him. He should have never entered this business. If only he hadn...
His thoughts were interrupted by an exclamation of "Fuck!" from Avan. Sirens could be heard and a blue and red light blinked many times. The cops had found them. Avan gave Klet an old jacket and told him to cover his legs and pretend he was sleeping, facing away from the cop while Avan stopped the car. He was driving faster than the speed limit and hoped all the cop wanted was to tell him that. Thankfully he was sober, so he'd just have to find an excuse. Either way, he pulled over. The cop got out, and walked over to the car, Avan had already rolled down the window.
"Sorry officer, I just was in a bit of a rush."
"I don't care what you are in a rush for, this ain't the autoband."
"It's just that my..." Avan changed his voice tone to a whisper "It's just that my mother is in her deathbed, and my brother is mentally deficient, got cancer of the mind and so he's been getting more unpredictable. I just wanna have one last good talk with my mother and brother. We wanted to reach her before she died, to make her last days on Earth happier. But you're right, we should not use this as an excuse to disobey the law. I think I'll just give her a call, today. Her last birthday. Yes, I think I should just give'er a call."
The cop didn't look impressed, so he said. "Whatever. I should impound your car for inventing such a stupid story, and expecting me to believe it. Tell you what, since I'm such a nice guy, you pay 300 dollars as a "fine" and we'll say I'm an idiot."
After Avan paid the guy and started driving at a more agreeable speed, Klet asked him "Mentally deficient?". Avan smiled, to reassure him "It's not too far from the truth, since you managed to get yourself in that mess. Lucky you got me to save your ass, eh?". Klet closed his eyes and groaned. He should have never entered the biz, but that's how the cards were laid.
Klet had ran into some bad luck after getting expelled from university for shafting. He had done some deals in high school, the jobs made enough cash and time was flexible. But he'd never done much. He knew the main issue people had with growops was overuse of power and improper electrical wiring. His times shafting had taught him enough in wiring, and the power grid was simple enough to bypass, especially when he got some solar panels. After growing for awhile, a few of his connections decided to buy him out and introduce him to doing runs.
It started with small packages, many times transfered by foot. But as he looked over statistics and guessed when customs would be more into getting off the job then doing it, he started plotting bigger schemes. He'd subcontract people, truckers who were expected to go over day by day and people with a clean slate of infrequent crossings.
Not that he didn't still do runs. But not for the money, this time. But for respect. As in any business, trafficking wasn't about skill, it was about respect. A scientist that knows everything about quantum physics won't be taken seriously if he commits many grammar mistakes, or wear pajamas all day. Conversely, a scientist that knows nothing about quantum physics but can make everyone think he does by writing extensively and correctly, may easily get a Nobel prize or two.
So the runs Klet still did were usually high-profile, so that he could get close to the right people. And strike deals. Soon, they started telling him of contacts, and he started trafficking on his own. He normally did the first run with someone, make a good first impression. He had a way of knowing when he was dealing with feds, as he had once almost got caught with. Never reached his record.