I was wearing my full kit now. Black tactical pants, boots, gloves, and a balaclava. I didn’t have a rifle, but I had my knife, my hammer, and the darkness. I found warehouse 4. There were two black SUVs parked outside. Victor’s men. I climbed up the side of the adjacent building, moving silently across the corrugated metal roof until I was looking down through a skylight into the warehouse. Below me, I saw Victor.
He was there personally, shouting orders. Move it all now. Victor yelled. If that idiot boy talks to the police, they’ll be here by morning. Burn the paperwork. Load the crates into the truck. Dominic and Evan were there sweating, hauling heavy wooden crates. I knew Mason was weak. Dominic spat. We should have handled him.
Cállate y levanta. Víctor se rompió. Los vi durante 10 minutos. Tomé fotos con una pequeña cámara digital. Guardé en mi bolsa de engranajes, caras, cajas, números de serie en las armas visibles en las cajas abiertas. Era la hora de la prisión federal. Esta fue cadena perpetua para todos ellos. Pero la cárcel era demasiado segura.
