12-15-2020, 08:40 PM
"You have him there?"
"Yep."
"I'm on my way..." Delicato said before turning off her phone.
She arrived at the auto shop just after 4pm but it was Sunday so business wouldn't be conducted until
the next morning. Not that kind of business anyway. Juarez was a hustle. Every street, every corner. From
ladies peddling their wares to those selling themselves; if you had the money anything could be yours.
Two men greeted her at the back door of the building. They were speaking to one another in Spanish
but spoke to her in perfect English. Must be CIA or some other ungodly black-ops team. No matter, they
served a purpose and today they would serve Her.
"We good?" she asked.
"All day." said the taller of the two men.
He stepped aside and she entered. A short trip up the hall to the first door on her right. That's where she
would find the man of the hour. Delicato walked in finding her "informant" sitting freely on an old wooden
chair. He was handcuffed and smoking a cigarette. His eyes met hers and instantly he knew things were
serious. She just had a stare that could cut you in half. Penetrating. She leaned back against a metal table
as the man finished his smoke.
"How do I know I can trust you?" he asked.
Delicato took a few steps towards him, pulling a photo out of her shirt pocket. Holding it in front of him, she
glared down onto what became a mournful expression on his face. He looked up at her, almost in tears.
"When did you take that?"
"This morning." she shot back quickly.
"Is this a threat?"
"No. It's your guarantee." she said as she returned the photo to her pocket, walking back to the metal table.
The man wiped sweat from his dirty face and took a moment to think.
"Guarantee that you'll kill my family?"
Delicato lifted herself up to sit on that table.
"I'm afraid we don't operate in the same way that you and your people do."
"So you're not gonna hurt them?" he asked.
Delicato jumped down from the table and walked over to grab another of the wooden chairs. She placed it right
in front of her querent, backwards, and sat down facing him.
"You're going to get me the information I need or moves will be made."
"So, this is a threat!" he accused.
"More of a promise." Delicato said in a hard tone.
"To do what?" he asked.
The wily Detective gazed into his eyes, locking onto what little bit of a soul this low-life had left.
"I will take your wife and two daughters far away from here. To a place you've probably never even heard of.
And they'll get different names and identities. A whole new life for them. Starting over, fresh and clean. Without
You!"
The man shot up from his chair in anger as Delicato got to her feet. Her hand quickly finding the gun she had
tucked away in the small of her back. She held steady, awaiting his next move.
"I die either way! Nothing you say or do changes that!" he yelled.
Delicato relaxed and rested both arms now at her sides.
"Then maybe child-trafficking wasn't your best career opportunity..." she said before walking from the room.
"Yep."
"I'm on my way..." Delicato said before turning off her phone.
She arrived at the auto shop just after 4pm but it was Sunday so business wouldn't be conducted until
the next morning. Not that kind of business anyway. Juarez was a hustle. Every street, every corner. From
ladies peddling their wares to those selling themselves; if you had the money anything could be yours.
Two men greeted her at the back door of the building. They were speaking to one another in Spanish
but spoke to her in perfect English. Must be CIA or some other ungodly black-ops team. No matter, they
served a purpose and today they would serve Her.
"We good?" she asked.
"All day." said the taller of the two men.
He stepped aside and she entered. A short trip up the hall to the first door on her right. That's where she
would find the man of the hour. Delicato walked in finding her "informant" sitting freely on an old wooden
chair. He was handcuffed and smoking a cigarette. His eyes met hers and instantly he knew things were
serious. She just had a stare that could cut you in half. Penetrating. She leaned back against a metal table
as the man finished his smoke.
"How do I know I can trust you?" he asked.
Delicato took a few steps towards him, pulling a photo out of her shirt pocket. Holding it in front of him, she
glared down onto what became a mournful expression on his face. He looked up at her, almost in tears.
"When did you take that?"
"This morning." she shot back quickly.
"Is this a threat?"
"No. It's your guarantee." she said as she returned the photo to her pocket, walking back to the metal table.
The man wiped sweat from his dirty face and took a moment to think.
"Guarantee that you'll kill my family?"
Delicato lifted herself up to sit on that table.
"I'm afraid we don't operate in the same way that you and your people do."
"So you're not gonna hurt them?" he asked.
Delicato jumped down from the table and walked over to grab another of the wooden chairs. She placed it right
in front of her querent, backwards, and sat down facing him.
"You're going to get me the information I need or moves will be made."
"So, this is a threat!" he accused.
"More of a promise." Delicato said in a hard tone.
"To do what?" he asked.
The wily Detective gazed into his eyes, locking onto what little bit of a soul this low-life had left.
"I will take your wife and two daughters far away from here. To a place you've probably never even heard of.
And they'll get different names and identities. A whole new life for them. Starting over, fresh and clean. Without
You!"
The man shot up from his chair in anger as Delicato got to her feet. Her hand quickly finding the gun she had
tucked away in the small of her back. She held steady, awaiting his next move.
"I die either way! Nothing you say or do changes that!" he yelled.
Delicato relaxed and rested both arms now at her sides.
"Then maybe child-trafficking wasn't your best career opportunity..." she said before walking from the room.
