Once they were back on the main road Charlie and Alex found a tavern and decided to wait there for their cab. It had been a long hike and they were ready to slack their thirst so they ordered up a couple pints and settled in to wait. The dispatcher had said it would be about an hour.
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Charlie and Alex looked up to see an olive-skinned man with his black hair pulled back, wearing an expensive suit approaching them. "Who are you?" asked Charlie.
"I heard you were looking for me. My name is Jorge Hernandez. I think you have something that belongs to me."
"And what might that be?" asked Charlie. His mind racing now, the police must be in cahoots with Jorge, and whatever is in that briefcase will incriminate both Jorge and the police, or at least the Sergeant.
"I think you know. Now if you will just hand over the briefcase."
"How did you find out we were coming to talk to you?" asked Alex, as he took a step backward and to the right. This action shielded his right side from Jorge, just in case...
"Why a little bird told me. You see, Sergeant Ricardo works for me," said Jorge as if that explained it all, and frankly it explained a lot. "Since you won't be leaving here," Jorge patted his side, "there's no reason I shouldn't tell you. I believe a condemned man should know why he's dying."
Alex stood still, only a slight nod to Charlie told him he understood the plan. They would just let Jorge talk, and talk he did.
"You see Tomas found out that I was skimming some money from the company and using it to fund my...uh... business. He gathered records...heck he even hired a private investigator to get pictures of me and my associates. He was carrying those back to the Colombian authorities, but since the good Sergeant is in my pocket, so to speak, he arranged to have him and the evidence disappear. So that is why I can't let you leave," Jorge concluded.
So the contracts Tomas was working on were just a story for his wife, and for obvious reasons he couldn't tell her the truth. But they had the evidence, and now it was time to put their plan into action.
"OK, but not here," Charlie indicated the tavern keeper and a few patrons along the bar nursing their beers, trying not to notice what was going on. No one wanted to get involved.
As they moved to the parking lot, Charlie said "NOW." Alex spun, catching Jorge's ankles and knocking him to the ground. Drawing his backup gun, Alex said "Stay down, hands behind your head. Charlie couldn't resist saying, "you really didn't think you could take on the FBI did you," as he grabbed the gun.
"That was way too easy," grinned Alex. His grin faded as he heard the familiar sound of a pump shotgun. Jorge got to his feet, brushing the dirt from his suit. "You really didn't think I would come here alone did you, Mr. FBI man?"
As they turned to face Sergeant Ricardo, dressed in his uniform so everything would look official and above board, Jorge took his gun back and theirs too. He motioned them toward the Jeep with the barrel of the gun. It would look like he was escorting prisoners.
Charlie said, "I'm sorry Alex."
"It's okay Charlie, it's not your fault and besides we're not giving up."
Before they reached the Jeep, their taxi came barreling into the parking lot, throwing gravel and kicking up a cloud of dust. It was just those few seconds of chaos that gave Alex and Charlie the break they needed. Alex lunged at the Sergeant and struggled for the shotgun. Just as Jorge started to raise his gun, the shotgun fired striking Jorge in the shoulder. With Alex controlling the shotgun, Charlie promptly relieved Jorge of his gun for the last time.
"You know my Mama always said, 'he who laughs last, laughs the loudest'. Guess who's laughing now, Jorge?"
To catch up with the story so far:
Beyond the Window