DEATH SENTENCE
by B. Stewart

He glanced nervously at the Pima Country Sheriff on the motorbike as he pulled out of the WENDY'S RESTAURANT. 'It didn't matter even if they arrested him and sent him back.' He thought. 'He would make the trip again and again. Nothing would keep him from America the land of opportunity.'
The week he had left el Salvador had been an education he would never forget. He had survived. He had left El Salvador almost a week earlier with the eight hundred dollars his uncle in Denver had sent them and had earned a lifetime degree in survival of the fittest. he had promised his girl Luchita he would send for her. They would raise their family in America.
" Where are you going?" The ticket seller asked him at the small rural Greyhound station in Bisbee.
" Phoenix." Was all he could say. He didn't understand many words of English but he was confident he could get by with what little he knew. He slid over three crumpled up ten-dollar bills and took the ticket. He'd trained himself to go without food but he smelled the hot dogs cooking in the refreshment stand and walked over to get one. A Vietnam vet wearing an old army jacket and sporting a beard and dark shades bumped into him nearly knocking him over.
" Watch where you're going. " The vet said to him spitting out hatred like venom. "Why don't you wetbacks stay in your own country?"
Paco didn't understand the accented words but sensed hatred and steered clear. It was the first time he felt like an outsider and fear gripped him like a claw wrapping itself around his intestines. He found himself staring at the hotdogs roasting on the grill.
" Excuse me?" the lunch lady said. "Are you getting anything or just enjoying the view."
Paco could feel the sarcasm in the tone of her voice. He pointed to a hotdog and pulled out the few dollars he had left. He began to wonder if he ever should have left home. He'd seen hate before when he was young and the soldiers had come and killed an uncle and his grandfather. He thought America was going to be different. The lunch lady looked at him like his money was diseased and pushed the hot dog towards him. She said something else to him in English but he didn't understand. He chewed on it and sat down by the passenger gate. He stretched out every bite like it was to be his last.
The trip up to Phoenix was pretty uneventful. There were many people on the bus who were speaking Spanish and Paco moved over by a young man and struck up a conversation.
" Where are you going?" Paco asked. "My name is Paco I'm from El Salvador.'
The young fellow studied him. Paco could see he had teardrop tattoos on the sides of his eyes and letters tattooed on his knuckles.
" I'm going to Phoenix hermano. My name is Juan." He gave him a greeting that Paco didn't recognize his thumb and small finger extended. "You must be new to the States. I just got out of prison in Texas no way am I ever going back to Texas. Three long years man no women, no drugs, no booze what a drag. I'm going back to see some of my people in Phoenix and I'm going to get so high. What about you what are you going to do?"
" I'm going to look for a job." Paco stated feeling a bit uncomfortable wishing he'd kept to himself.
" You need a place to crash?" Juan asked. "We could probably put you up until you get settled in with a job. What do you do?"
" I worked on a ranch some in El Salvador, farm work mostly. I'll do anything. I'm goodwith my hands."
Juan's eyes lit up. "I think my friend can line up some work for you amigo. He's got a demolition and repossession business. He's always looking for somebody handy with tools. "
In the pit of his stomach Paco felt something was wrong but he found himself answering automatically. "Sure I'll work."
" Don't sweat it. It'll be easy."
They got off the bus in downtown Phoenix in view of the Bank One Ballpark home to the rapidly growing cities major league baseball team the World Series Champion Diamondbacks. It was winter and even though it wouldn't have affected the ability of the teams to play baseball in Phoenix where it averaged around seventy five degrees all winter the stadium was still empty and the place looked deserted like a ghost town. Paco followed Juan to the phone and watched him drop in a few coins. He sat down opting not to listen in but to keep his smarts about him.
Juan hung up the phone and approached him. "I talked to Big Pete. He says you can crash there tonight and start working for him tomorrow. He's got a trailer in the yard you can stay in and he'll pay you a hundred a week until he sees what you're worth."
" A hundred dollars?" Paco's eyes lit up. "Every week!"
" I know where you're from it seems like a lot of money but here it's not that much here but at least it'll keep you in food and stuff. As for me I got other plans and I've got friends I can stay with. I'll come and check up on you Paco. Oh, you don't have to worry about papers all the money is under the table."
Paco didn't know what "under the table" meant but money was money and he wanted to pay his uncle back and send for his girlfirend. Juan was true to his word. After a ride to Pete's wrecking yard located on South Central in Phoenix, Juan introduced Paco to Pete and accompanied him into the trailer. Paco was surprised to find it had it's own refrigerator, stove, black and white television and bed. He thought he was in Heaven with all the luxury. He turned on the television and was surprised to find several channels broadcasting exclusively Spanish language programming. His stomach was hungry and to his disappointment the refrigerator was empty with nothing but a water bottle and a jar of pickles. He had a little of both and fell asleep watching a loco variety show.
He awoke to a loud pounding on the door. He stumbled to the door and looked up at Big Pete standing next to his German shepherd.
" Let's go." Pete said motioning Paco to follow.
The property was narrow but deep going back nearly 300 feet from the street where a chain link fence topped with barbed wire and a gate kept out unwanted visitors. They walked back towards a brick building covered with a tin roof surrounded by tumbleweeds, old tires, fenders and bumpers scattered about. Outside of the building the remains of a 1959 Chevy Impala sitting on blocks it's rubber decomposing in the sun served as a grizzly reminder just how quickly many things decayed.
The building was another story. The overhead door was solid steel and the huge lock looked almost bulletproof. Pete pulled out a huge ring of keys and opened the lock the door opened by pushbutton. Inside the building was a nearly new dark blue BMW. It was the most beautiful piece of machinery Paco had ever seen. Outside of the crowbar mark on the driver's door it was perfect.
" You want me to work on this car?" Paco asked in Spanish looking at all the tools recklessly scattered about.
" No." Pete smiled replying back in Spanish. "I want you to take it apart piece by piece, windshield, dashboard, gauges, fenders, engine everything." Pete walked over to where the compressor was and showed Paco some of the hydraulic tools. "Juan said you were from El Salvador so I don't think you're that familiar with this equipment so let me give you a little demonstration."
Pete picked up a Dewalt 18volt drill and grabbed several of the bits in a case on the bench next to it. He opened the hood and showed Paco how the drill bits could undo the many bolts holding the car together. Paco was amazed.
" We ship these car parts all over so just separate them into these boxes. The fenders and big stuff you can rest against the wall. If you run into weld joints that don't come apart like on the frame you just got to take them apart joint by joint but first you remove everything that can be screwed off and taken off. This is a valuable parts car please handle them like they were your own baby. There are some sodas in the refrigerator and I'll bring you some food in a little bit. There's the radio listen to whatever you want."
Paco clicked on Jose Jose and began humming along as he began his new job.
He pulled off the driver's door and passenger door and began taking off the fenders. By the time Pete came back with a few burritos and chips for him he had already dismantled the body of the car. He had never handled power tools before but once he got going nothing could stop him. He pulled out the seats, the dashboard, the steering wheel, and the windshield carefully putting the smaller items in boxes and handling the larger one with ease using the shop dolly to move things around. He marveled at the engine and before long had disconnected the alternator, radiator, starter, air conditioner, belts, hoses and had loosened the engine from the transmission. In eight hours the BMW had been transformed into a skeleton only the roof still shined with resplendent glory. He worked until seven o'clock when Pete came back to get him. Pete was shocked at how much he had taken apart; all that remained was the basic frame and the engine.
" You got little elves working here with you Paco." Pete laughed. "That is amazing. You broke this thing right down. It's time to knock it off though. We don't like to make that much noise this hour of the night. Besides I'm going to take you to get something to eat."
They drove to Casa Molina near the South Mountain preserve where Pete ordered them a few Coronas and they sampled the fine salsa made out of Hatch chilies arguably the best in the west. Their hostess was beautiful and tall with long dark hair and she smiled at Big Pete and showed them to one of their best tables dispensing with their normal thirty-minute wait. A waitress brought them over chips and salsa and dropped a few menus on the table. Pete was all about eating and they wasted no time Paco had never seen anyone put away so much food. Paco though Pete must have toped a hundred and fifty kilos three hundred and twenty pounds and wondered if a lot of Americans were as big as Pete. He knew he never met anyone before that big. The only thing bigger than Pete's appetite was his wallet and Paco was shocked to see how much cash Pete carried. To settle the tab he pulled out a roll of hundred dollar bills nearly three inches thick and laid one down in front of him. He pushed his huge girth up from the table and turned to Paco still eating..
" Let's go little buddy." Paco shoved one last bite in his mouth and followed Pete out tagging along like a Chihuahua after a St. Bernard.
Pete's truck, a Dodge Ram 4x4, was painted a blood red with flames down the sides. Neither of them noticed a group of low riders parked on the other side of the street with Juan sitting in the back seat.
" See man. I told you he was loaded look at that truck. He carries at least twenty grand on him too. Come on lets follow him." Juan said to Louis and Rollo.
The three low riders followed in their Chevy Impala like a wolf pack hunting a plump cow; they were intent on making sure they weren't seen.
Pete pulled into the Circle K convenience store to grab his nightly twelve pack of Corona. Things were going well. His Los Angeles fences were paying top dollar for his luxury car parts and now he had someone who could take apart a car as fast as they could steal them. He did some quick calculation and figured he would get at least $25,000 for the parts on the BMW after paying only three thousand for the car and a few hundred to have it taken apart that was a profit of over $22,000. He mentally added that to the several hundred thousand in gold coins he had stashed in a lockbox buried in the backyard and knew he could retire a wealthy man before he hit forty. As he walked in the store his mobile phone rang. He checked the caller id it was an unidentified caller. He picked it up.
" Big Pete." The man said. "It's Juan how's the new fellow doing?'
" He's working out great, better than I expected. I owe you big time. How about you did you guys find me a 500SL yet?"
" We're working on it my man working on it."
" Good." Pete answered. "If you bring one by tomorrow there's an extra grand on the side for you."
Juan hung up the pay phone across the street from the Circle K.
He walked back to the large Buick low rider car and got back in.
" Let go get us that 500. He's sweetening the pot." Juan wasn't dumb enough to hold back the thousand for himself. "He just put in another G."
" Where too?" asked Rollo, a short stubby guy with forearms as big as Popeye covered with graffiti style tattoos.
" Durant's." Luis answered. "The Phoenix Suns are playing tonight there should be a few 500's there after the game."
They drove up Central to Durant's an old-fashioned steak and martini place that catered to the well-heeled crowd. The dark parking lot was paved. They figured they'd have enough time to pop a car. They weren't disappointed. A beautiful gold 500SL with custom rims antennas the works pulled up. A tall black athletic male got out and then opened the door for his date. He had parked right alongside the front entrance making his own parking spot. He and his date walked inside.
" That's it." Juan said. "Just what the man wants. It looks like a 99."
" You crazy." Luis answered. "It's right near the front door. Anybody sees you messing with that police gonna be here in three minutes.'
" I don't need three minutes." Juan answered pulling out his black jack. "You with me Rollo? Nobody comes out that door."
" I got you." Rollo pulled out a crowbar from underneath the seat.
Durant's overhead lights cast off uneven shadows peering down from the tall palm trees lining the street. Juan and Rollo moved swiftly over to the Mercedes. Rollo helped Juan bash the driver's window and then went up to the restaurant and slipped the crow bar into the door pulls. Juan smiled to himself and approached the car opening the front hood. Lights were blinking and the car's siren was howling. His switchblade cut the alarm wires. It was over. A car turned and pulled past them. It was an elderly couple in an ancient Chevy Nova. They paid no mind. Juan struggled with the steering wheel column and the wires and finally got the motor running. Rollo slammed the hood and jumped in shotgun with Juan and they drove down the side street to their crib on 19th and McDowell where they stashed the car into a one-car garage and went inside the house to celebrate.
" Teresa. "Rollo shouted to his live-in girlfriend. "Get us some beer. It's time to party."
Teresa walked into the living room where they had already crashed out and were sharing weed and she laid out a six-pack.
" Rollo don't stay up all night again baby." Teresa said. "You promised that tomorrow we'd go visit my brother Bobby in jail. I told momma we'd go. I just put little Chollo down."
" O.K." Rollo said. "Tomorrow's good."
" Hey Teresa." Juan yelled. "Why don't you have your cousins Lolita and Anna come over? We could use a few more women around here. I'm getting tired of looking at Rollo's face.'
" Yea?" Rollo stood up pulling out a Smith and Wesson 38 from his waistband and pointing it said. "Maybe you won't have to look at it no more."
Juan put his hands up. "Just kidding homes, sorry. I guess I've been in prison too long. Lighten up can't you take a joke?"
Teresa walked back in the room and saw the gun. "Put that away Rollo. It might go off and hit the baby."
Rollo put away the gun and sat down grabbing the beer.
" What time tomorrow we taking the car to Pete's." Juan said.
" Early in the morning. They'll be other traffic and we should be able to blend right in. You really want to hit Big Pete up for all his money. I mean we can keep popping cars till we're old." Luis answered
" Only so many times you can play the lottery man. Eventually your ticket comes up and it's off to jail no two hundred dollars. It's better to make a big score and then get out. Just disappear. Besides there is more than just the thirty grand or so he carries around in his pocket. There's got to be at least a half million or so buried on his property." Juan responded
" Who told you that?" Rollo asked. "What kind of loco buries a half a million dollars?"
" One with more money than brains. My brother Eddy told me before he died that when he worked for Big Pete he would sometime see Pete sneaking out to the back lot in the middle of the night carrying bags. Then he said he would hear some digging and some things being dragged around. So it's got to be well hidden. That's where you come in Rollo. You the man. You gotta make im talk.'
Rollo smiled sadistically his upper lip involuntarily quivering. "No problemo. I'll introduce him to Senior Smith and Wesson."
Big Pete twitched about nervously in bed. About three in the morning he woke up in a cold sweat. He looked out the back window. The lights were off in the trailer. Shep was sound asleep at his usual post by the front and only door. Pete knew it was a premonition. His mom had always warned him. He would know when his time was coming. He couldn't count on tomorrow. There were very few deathbed conversions people died as they lived. She had pleaded with him when he was a teenager to give up his gang banging, popping cars, mugging, drinking, smoking, and fornicating. He had dished her like she was some old rag. He'd taken her Bible and thrown it on the floor and told her it was a bunch of fairy tales. He told her he wasn't going to believe in any God whose idea of fun was throwing people into Hell. He had shut her out of his life but he hadn't shut her up. Years later her words of warning and pleading with him to ask God for forgiveness were still sounding in his ears.
He was like a ship lost in a gale. He didn't know how to pray, didn't even know where to start. He'd seen the shows on the television but so many of those had just wanted his money. He could feel the dark presence the sense of dread clutching his chest like a rockslide. "God help me." He muttered. "I'm so lost and I know I don't have much time. Jesus wherever you are. I'm sorry. I know I am messing up big time. Give me a chance I'll change."
Big Pete walked into his front room and opened a plywood cabinet he had built into the closet. Inside was a video screen showing a wide angled shot of his front driveway. He had kept its existence secret. There was no one there. Even the street was deserted He switched unto camera four. It covered the back fence. His dog grew restless and padded his way into the front room looking up at Pete as if to ask. "What's wrong?"
" Go back to sleep Shep. I'm just checking the cameras."
The monitor took a picture every four minutes and recorded it on a long-playing video player. By entering a day and time Pete could tell who had been in and out of his property and who might be stealing stuff. It didn't record a continuous stream of video but enough to make identifications. With four cameras recording every four minutes it gave a pretty good overall view of his property.
The dark presence lifted and he felt better. He went back to sleep and dreamt of fields full of white flowers and beautiful music.
*
Back in the trailer Paco was tossing and turning in his sleep. He woke up. 'These cars are stolen.' He thought aloud. 'That's the reason he has me taking them apart.' That was also the reason Pete gave him the job so easily. Being new and fresh out of the jungle they probably figured he wouldn't even discover for a long time he had been working on stolen vehicles and then if he wanted to leave it would be too late. No wonder Big Pete had so much money.
Paco determined to get out of there as quick as possible. He knew he was getting a hundred dollars at the end of the week. He figured he would buy a bus ticket further north and maybe find a job on a nice quite farm. He was certain of one thing: He hadn't come to America to be arrested and spend his life in prison.
*
Rollo took some bolt cutters and easily sliced his way through the metal fence surrounding Big Pete's place. He pulled it back to let Juan and Louis into the back yard. Juan slipped a bandana over his face to cover up his identity.
They entered the trailer and pressed a gun to Paco's head.
" Don't say nada, hermano." Rollo addressed him. "You are going for a little ride."
Paco was frightened and wet his underwear. Louis laughed at him. Paco could smell the alcohol on their breath and put up no resistance hoping to escape with his life. They thrust his pants and shoes into his hands and pushed him out into the backyard. The video surveillance camera photographed the back of their heads as they exited the yard. Rollo kicked a piece of tumbleweed over to the fence and wedged it into the sliced section to hold it open.
" What do we do with homeboy?" Rollo asked.
" Let's just dump him in Guadaloupe. He can find some work there. Give him a few bucks to keep him rollin'. There's no need to kill him." Juan answered still covered up.
" What if he talks?" Rollo questioned.
" About what?" Louis reasoned.
Paco was dropped off at a convenience store in Guadaloupe a small Mexican/Indian community in the heart of Tempe. It was still dark and Juan got out of the car and handed him three twenty-dollar bills.
" Stay away from Big Pete's. No more job."
*
The next morning Pete got up early and went to wake up Paco. The door was ajar and he entered. The bed was unmade and several of Paco's things were lying about. He picked up Paco's small gym bag and looked inside. There was a picture of Paco with a young girl, a school identification card from El Salvador with an address for Paco's family in El Salvador and the stub from Paco's bus ticket. Pete stuffed it back in the gym bag and left it where it was sitting. He went out back to check on his buried money and noticed a cut in the fence. He saw that the dirt and barrels packed over his horde of rare coins was undisturbed. He looked at his watch and saw that it was almost time for Rollo to deliver his Mercedes. He remembered his prayer and wondered if Paco's leaving was an omen that he should quit. He shrugged off the bad feeling his conscience telling him to walk away and decided he had to keep his word to the homies. There was no way he could have them steal a car and then refuse to give them the money. He looked up and saw two vehicles sitting in front of his fence and he went up to open it. Rollo stepped out of the passenger seat.
" Move it inside quick." Pete answered mumbled.
Shep came out to see what was happening and followed after Pete.
Juan pulled the car up and got out. His shirt was open and Pete didn't notice the gun he had in the small of his back.
"Pete. We're ready for the money. You won't find a nicer 500SL anywhere." Juan said.
Pete sensed that something wasn't right. Shep sensed it too and walked nearer to Pete. Juan pulled his gun and pointed it at Pete.
" Tell your dog to back off or I'll blow its head off. "
Shep reacted automatically. He been a trained watchdog and he jumped up in the air catching Juan's pistol hand and knocking him to the ground. Before he could do any harm Rollo had his Smith and Wesson out and fired a shot into the dog's chest. The dog mortally wounded struggled up on his front paws to walk over to Pete but fell over dead."
Juan got up nursing his wounded arm and picked up his gun and pointed it at Pete's temple swearing and cursing at him. Pete was in shock and was crying over his dog.
" You shouldn't have pulled that gun. Shep was a trained guard dog." Pete said not realizing that the death of his dog was the least of his worries.
" Look Pete. We know you've got some big time money and gold buried on this property. You show us where it is you'll get to live. You don't you'll die slowly."
Louis walked up to speak to Juan holding a videotape he found in Pete's house. "I was inside checking the house and found a closet full of tape recorders. We're on tape this tape. There are cameras all over the place."
" You'd better get going fast. My security firm monitors those and when they see what's going on they'll send out the police." Big Pete bluffed.
Rollo thought for a moment. "I don't think so Pete. I think the only one who watches the cameras is you. You couldn't afford to have the police come sniffing around here. They'd uncover a little too much and you'd be off for a long visit to Florence prison. Make it easy on yourself tell us where the gold is buried."
Ever since Rollo was young and had seen the TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE on television he had been obsessed with being rich. He had grown up poor his family's only source of money being government handouts and food stamps. They shared rundown tenement apartment with roaches and mice. The walls were so thin that he could hear his mother entertaining many late night visitors trying to raise enough money for food. He had sworn he was going to get out and do whatever he had to do to escape the cycle of poverty he had been born into. Even if it meant killing. Nothing mattered to him. He'd spent his life in and out of detention centers, caught for jacking car stereos, breaking and entering; most of the sentences were just slaps on the wrists. He was finally going to make the big score and if Pete died in the process who would care. The investigation would be open and shut. Nobody would be losing sleep over a petty chop shop owner taking a bullet to the head.
Pete grabbed the roll of money in his pants. "This is all I got. Take it. Whoever told you I had buried treasure was high. I don't have anything buried."
Big Pete was starting to sweat profusely. His armpits were drenched with perspiration. His eyes grew wide with fear and he wondered how long he could lie to Rollo.
Juan picked up the money Pete put on the hood of the car and shuffled the edges. "It's a nice start Big Pete but we both know there is a lot more. The question is not if your gonna give it up but whether you are going to give it up the easy way or the hard way."
Louis snuck up behind Pete and put a chain around his neck and pulled him down into the dirt tightening the chain. Pete began to thrash around like a beached whale that had lost it's heading. Pete couldn't think of anything except he needed to breathe. His face started to turn blue and he began to go into cardiac arrest. Louis loosened the chain. Pete rolled in the dirt gasping for breath.
" I told you Pete we are gonna find out. Either the easy way or the hard way." Juan continued. "My brother told me all about it before he died."
Pete looked disorientated then his eyes focused on Rollo holding a portable welding torch he had taken from the trunk of their car. Pete tried to kick out of the way but couldn't move because of the chain around his neck. Rollo brought the flame within an inch of his face.
" Do you remember where you buried the treasure Petey?" Rollo said. Juan laughed sadistically in the background.
" Come on Pete." Louis begged. "We just want the money we don't want to torture you just tell him."
Rollo began to burn Pete's face. Pete screamed out in pain his face blistering from the hot steam of fire.
" I think he's ready to talk." Rollo said calmly as if torture was an everyday thing. "Let him up"
Pete struggled up. "I'll tell you. It's buried under those barrels."
" Good." Juan said. "I knew you'd come through Pete. Louis get the shovels will you. Maybe Pete will be so kind as to help us dig it up"
After they moved the fifty-five gallon drums Pete began digging. He took his time wondering whether it was going to be his last day on earth or not. He wondered if they'd let him live. He no longer cared about the money, the cars, his retirement home. All that mattered to him was survival. He tried to scoop out as little dirt as possible and still look like he was working. Finally his shovel hit the metal box. His mom's words came to him. 'What shall it profit a man to gain the world and lose his soul?' Again he prayed silently. 'Forgive me for my wicked life Jesus. Everything I've made is here in this box and now I know how worthless it is. You didn't create me to love money. You created me to love you and others. I am so sorry.'
" Quit poking around in there Pete. Haul that box up here." Rollo said.
" It's heavy I'm going to need a hand." Pete answered.
Rollo jumped into the hole and tried to lift it out with Pete. It was too heavy to move. Rollo pulled his thirty-eight out of his belt and began to blast at the lock on the side. It took two direct bullets to shatter the lock. Rollo was driven by greed and tore open the box. It was full of wrapped coins; he took out a bundle from their plastic sheaths. They were uncirculated Liberty twenty-dollar coins.
Pete was shocked by his treatment of the coins. "Those are special gold coins. You scratch them up they are not going to be worth much.'
" They are still gold aren't they?" Rollo answered.
" I'll get a tool box to put them in. " Juan said. "Maybe we should handle them a little more carefully. They do look like new."
Louis and Juan carried over a couple of toolboxes and began transferring the coins. Pete grabbed his favorite 1924 Saint Gaudens in a plastic sheath and cupped it in his hand. He sat down in the dirt his head in his hands.
" What are you going to do with me?" He questioned. "You got your coins. I can't report them stolen. They were all bought with illegal funds anyway."
Rollo angrily leaned over. "How do we know you don't have more? This doesn't seem like very much - one box worth."
" I swear to God." Pete answered. "That's everything. Some of those coins are worth fifteen thousand dollars. Just take them go you can sell then anywhere. They're not hot."
" And what are we supposed to do with you? You just going to let us walk out of here without saying anything to anybody. I don't think so. Now get up."
" What are you going to do to him Rollo?" Juan asked loading in the coins.
" Just make sure you got them all. Move it Petey." Rollo commanded.
Rollo marched Pete out through the hole in the fence over to the big green metal dumpster. "Now get in."
Pete was sweating. "Now wait Rollo. You don't have to kill me. If you need more money I can get you more. I've got an account opened in an offshore bank. Big money."
Rollo aimed the gun at Pete's chest. "Close your eyes man. I'm sorry I gotta do you. Nothing personal. I just can't be walking around the next twenty years wondering when you are going to show up.
Rollo pulled the trigger and Pete slumped over. Rollo put another shot into the back of his head and closed the lid of the dumpster walking away as if he had just taken out the garbage. On the way back through the fence, Rollo caught his shirt and had to rip it away from the sharp wires.
Juan looked at Rollo. "You did him didn't you?"
" Had to bro. Eventually he would talk you both know it. I think it is time to get out of here. We can dump the Mercedes downtown in a parking lot. Wipe up our footprints Louis. There should be a broom in the shop. Juan give me a hand filling in this hole. Let's get out of here. I don't think anybody heard the shots but I don't want to take any chances."