The Relic Runner Origin Story Box Set Ernest Dempsey (top 10 books of all time txt) 📖

table. He let out an appreciative "mmm" and set the glass back down.

"So, what is this? You looking for a job? I have to say, you do quite the interview."

"I'm not looking for a job. I'm looking for a man named Carlito Esperanza."

"Yes, I heard," the man said. "You also said you had a way to get ahead of the Aguilas. I imagine, with a man like you in my organization, we would definitely have an edge."

"I'm not looking for a job," Dak repeated, this time more firmly.

"So you say." His eyes wandered to the weapons the woman and the other guy at the booth aimed at the American. "You know, I could make this simple and tell them to kill you if you don't want to work for me."

"Then you wouldn't get what you want."

"Which is?"

"May I sit?" Dak asked, motioning to the henchman to his right who still held the gun firmly in one hand.

"I'd prefer you stand."

"I'd prefer to be on a beach somewhere, sipping your tequila—preferably on the rocks with margarita mix. Yet, here we are."

The man leaned back, letting his left arm stretch out over the back of the booth, the other still behind the woman's shoulders to his right.

"So, why are you here?" the man asked. His left hand flipped up. "I mean, other than your proposal. I know you say you have a way for me to level the playing field against the Aguilas. But why are you really here? There must be some reason you'd be foolish enough to walk into a known hangout of Esperanza and his men."

"Esperanza and I have a common enemy. I don't think I need to remind you of the old saying about the enemy of my enemy."

The man analyzed Dak for several seconds before responding. "So, friends, then? I wonder, though, who this enemy is? Giovani Mendoza has many, but I'm curious how he would have drawn the ire of such a dangerous man like you."

"Mendoza isn't my target. I'm after his new general, Luis Martinez."

The guy in the booth blinked slowly, then he motioned to the other two. They immediately lowered their weapons. The guy on the right slid out of the booth and patted Dak down. When the guard was certain the American was unarmed, he gave a nod to the man calling the shots.

"Please," the man said, motioning again with his left hand, this time at the seat across from him and the woman.

Dak stepped near and then eased into the seat. He folded his hands on the table as a show of good faith.

"So," the man said, "what is it you have against Mendoza's new pet?"

"We used to work together," Dak confessed. "He betrayed me. Stabbed me in the back, so to speak."

"Ah," the man said, wagging a finger. "Now it makes sense. You're out for revenge."

"I'm out for justice."

"Funny how those two are often intertwined, isn't it?" He looked to the bartender and raised two fingers. "Two more glasses, please, Pedro."

The barkeeper hesitated, still looking as if he was trying to decide whether to grab the shotgun and go to town on the intruder, or do as he was told.

"Yes, sir," he said finally. "Right away."

The bartender hastily poured two more rounds of tequila, scurried around the end of the bar, and delivered to the table as requested.

"Thank you, Pedro. Go back to watching the game. Looks like there are still ten minutes left."

"Yes, sir." The bartender humbly bowed and made his way back around the counter, behind the bar, and reluctantly returned his attention to the game.

"When were you going to tell me your name is Carlito Esperanza?" Dak wondered.

The man let out a snort, then grinned mischievously. "When you asked. Yours?"

"Dak. Let's leave it at that."

"Okay, Dak. Like the quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys. Should be easy to remember."

"I get that a lot."

"I'm sure." Esperanza raised his glass, and Dak took his, lifting it toward Esperanza. "Salud."

"Salud," Esperanza echoed.

The two men took a sip and set the glasses back on the table.

"I like a man who can appreciate good tequila," Esperanza said. "Now, I would love to hear this plan of yours."

Dak leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table. He steepled his fingers and tilted his head. "Do you always trust a stranger this quickly?"

Esperanza shrugged. "You took out some of my best guards in no time."

"They'd been drinking."

"And you keep trying to blow off your efficiency. Most men, if any, who were able to do that, would probably be boasting about it right now, demanding I make them my second-in-command. Which means you aren't here with some egotistical demand. You have a plan. And you have cojones. You've earned my ear."

Dak appreciated the man's assessment. Esperanza was no fool. For a moment, Dak wondered how the man hadn't been able to take his organization ahead of the Aguilas.

"Mendoza isn't satisfied with this region. Or with Mexico. He wants to expand beyond the borders."

Esperanza let his head tilt back and he blinked a few times while he looked at the ceiling. Then he brought his head down and leveled his gaze with Dak's. "I'm not sure how much you know about what we do, but we're all beyond the borders of Mexico, amigo."

"Oh, I'm well aware. I wasn't talking about the United States." He paused until Esperanza's eyes gave away the fact that he was interested. "Mendoza wants the rest of the world."

Esperanza's cheeks tightened, eyelids narrowing to dark slits.

"He wants to have ports on either side of the country. Having those will make him the unrivaled leader in the drug trade for years to come."

"Ports?" He shifted uncomfortably and reeled in both arms, resting his hands on the table around the tequila glass.

"My guess is Mendoza is figuring out which ones he wants. Once he decides, he'll use the usual tactics—sabotage a boat, burn down a warehouse, whatever it takes to lower the value of the business he wishes to buy. Once that happens, he'll have easy access to