Why Me?

Chapter 37 They're Coming

Uncle Pedro

     This little puta thinks she has gotten the best of me; I think not! Yes I was currently tied up in the back of a van and yes my nephew had beaten me to a pulp, but Señor Pedro would not be silenced.

     “Juan, mi hijo, why are you doing this to your poor Tío?” I asked, trying to prop myself up. The van  was filthy and cluttered with items ranging from shovels to cement . Beckett was lying across from me, still knocked out.

       “Because Tío, you were conspiring with the Gringo. You were going to set him free and that would put of lives in jeopardy.” Juan’s head was slightly visible through the tiny window that connected the back and front of the van together. He looked torn between being angry and being hurt.

     “The Gringo would not have told a soul!” I yelled back in an oddly high pitched voice. “Beckett only agreed to do this job because he was threatened by this puta loca.”

     “Cómo te atreves!”

     “I will speak anyway I want. I did rent this van you know.”

     “You son of a bitching,”

     “Enough!” The wench had finally spoken. “I’m going to go back there and shoot you in the head if you don’t shut up.”

     “Ok” I said sighing. I need my energy for later and I didn’t need to waste what I had left arguing with it. With a huge bang, Juan slammed the window shut and I was left to listen to the tire scrap against the road. I looked at Beckett. My sweet, little Gringo, he must be having good dreams. After thinking about how peaceful he looked, I shoved my foot into Beckett’s face.

     “Ohhhh ssshhhiiittt.” He groaned, waking up out of his slumber. “What the hell Pedro?” he managed to say as he coughed violently.

     “That’s Uncle Pedro to you and I have a plan.” I said confidently.

     “No offense Uncle Pedro, but every single plan you’ve made has failed miserably.” He said while he attempted to sit himself up.

     “Si, this is true, but this plan is a surefire one.” I said, getting ready to start my briefing. “First, you will retrieve for me that pocket knife that is hidden under those dirty jeans.” He looked to his left where the jeans lay in a filthy pile.

     “I can’t reach that.”

     “Not yet you can’t.” Then, without warning him, I tickled Beckett on the ribs on the left side of his body. He instantly shot up with no problem, showing restraint as he smiled.

     “Stop that.” He said, getting back into his serious manner.

     “I think I shall call you Giggles instead of Gringo.” Beckett’s face immediately turned red from embarrassment.

     “Don’t, please don’t.”

     “Ok Giggles,” I giggled a little myself. “Back to the plan. Now that you are up, scoot over to those pants and retrieve the knife.” He did as I said with ease, seeing as we needed to untie ourselves.

     “Ok, now what?” he asked, sliding the knife over to me.

     “Now you see that pail in the corner, I have a handgun in there. Please get that too.”

     “You have guns in here?”

     “Well of course Gringo. There are three things you always bring to a drug meeting; the drugs, the money and the guns. I also have a grenade launcher taped to the underside of the van.” I said with a smile. Oh how I loved my artillery. Beckett though, he looked perplexed.