Face the Music

Chapter 5

We swung through the lobby of the motel to reserve the room for another night, grabbed some orange juice from the measly breakfast buffet, and then we split up. Collins rented a car and drove south to talk to the border control, while I took a bus to the city. I tried to pick-up on the drug sale patterns that come with any big city.

I walked through downtown San Diego, looking in alleys and trying to find a good place to observe from. It wasn't long before I saw a quick and subtle deal take place. The hand off was smooth, clean, and it would have been invisible if I hadn't been looking for it.

I watched the client look both ways before exiting the alley, and then watched the dealer take off in the opposite direction. I mussed up my hair, un-tucked my shirt, then unbuttoned and re-buttoned it, skipping a few button holes. I put a vacant look on my face and started running. I circled the block at a near sprint in order to get ahead of the dealer and also to work up a bit of sweat to help out with my homeless, drug-addicted man look.

My running paid off as I was already leaning against a building corner when the drug dealer approached.

I stuck my hand out, palm up, adding a subtle tremor. The dealer slowed and looked at me skeptically.

"Help me out." I said, then coughed aggressively. I was impressing myself with my act.

"I don't have any change on me, pal."

"I don't want your money." I told him, letting a shudder ripple through my body, doing my best to imitate the drug-addicted people I'd seen who hadn't had a hit in a while. The dealer understood what I wanted, completely buying my act. He jerked his head toward the alley and I followed him, suppressing a smirk, as we walked into it and stepped into the shadow of the building. It was all too easy.

"It's your lucky day, my man. What're you needing today?" The dealer began pulling drug filled baggies from his pockets.

I let my act dissolve. "I need information."

The dealer's face went from greedy to panicked in no time at all. He lunged away from me but I caught him by the throat and pinned him to the wall before he'd taken a step. He was a scrawny little thing and, though he was putting up his best fight, it wasn't much of a challenge.

"I don't know anything!" He squeaked, clawing at my hand that enveloped his throat.

"Take it easy, sparky," I said. "Who do you work for?"

"I'm freelance. I don't work for anyone." He blurted, his voice was thick with fear.

"Bullshit." I said, and squeezed harder.

He gasped for breath and tried to talk. I loosened my grip to let him.

"He'll kill me."

"Well it seems as if you're in quite a mess then, my friend," I growled, "because if you don't tell me anything then I'll kill you. It all depends on you who want to pull the trigger." His eyes were wild with terror. He said nothing. I squeezed.

"I'm going to ask you one more time before I crush your voice box and let you suffocate to death. If you tell me now, your boss might not find out about it, but if you don't tell me, you'll be dead in less than a minute." I decided the guy needed a graphic picture to motivate him. "Now...who do you work for?"

The guy nodded and swatted at my hand. I let go of his neck and kept him pinned to the wall with my forearm. I was getting impatient.

"I don't know what name he goes by now," I wound up, ready to beat the truth out of him, "BUT...." the guy screamed to stop me, "he used to go by Loretto. Joseph Loretto."