The night hung heavy over El Paso, painting its darkest corners with shades of uncertainty and danger. I found myself in a neighbourhood where the streetlights flickered as if even they were reluctant to shed light on what transpired below. Buildings, worn by time and neglect, loomed over me, their walls covered in graffiti that spoke of territorial claims and faded dreams. The air was thick with the scent of refuse and the distant, yet ever-present, echo of sirens that seemed to be the area’s haunting soundtrack.
Jamie was right. The steely resolve in her eyes replayed in my mind as I walked the shadowed streets. I needed to arm myself and be ready for whatever Rashmoor might throw my way. But this transaction couldn’t exist in any official records; if Rashmoor caught wind, it’d spell instant disaster.
El Paso’s proximity to Ciudad Juarez, infamous for its violence, meant that the black market for firearms wasn’t just a myth; it was thriving. I’d made contact with a dealer on the dark web, a shadowy figure who promised untraceable protection—at a price.
The Merchant was a notorious person, rumoured to be as ruthless as the weapons he trafficked. When I finally laid eyes on him, he was leaning against the crumbling brick wall, a silhouette almost blending into the darkness. A blend of American and Mexican heritage evident in his accent and features, scrutinized me under the dim flicker of a lone lightbulb in the derelict building we stood in.
Meeting the Mexican
“Heard you’re looking for a piece, amigo?” he called out as I approached with an eerily calm voice.
“That’s right,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “Something… discreet.”
He chuckled, a sound that seemed to scrape the very air between us. “Discretion is expensive,” he said, eyes glinting with a mix of danger and opportunity. “Especially for someone with your… affiliations.”
Hi lifted his sombrero and I could feel the gaze dissecting me, trying to unearth any hint of weakness. “I can pay,” I asserted, more to convince myself than him.
“Money talks, but it also whispers secrets wey,” he mused cryptically adding in Spanish words here and there. “How do I know I can trust a military man?”
We were two players in a game of chess, and I knew any misstep could be fatal. “Because if words get out about this transaction, I have as much to lose as you,” I said, letting the truth lend weight to my words.
The Merchant scrutinized me for a moment longer before seemingly making up his mind. “Alright,” he conceded, producing a compact handgun from the depths of his coat. “This will do the job. But it’ll cost you more than you’ve got there.”
I clenched my jaw, realizing the serious consequences of this deal. “How much more?” I asked. My mind was racing through figures and assets I could liquidate without raising suspicion.
Protection has a high price
“Twice what you’re offering,” he replied sharply. My heart sank, but before I could respond, he continued, “You have a week. I find out you’re setting me up, and it’s not the authorities you’ll have to worry about.”
Taking the gun felt like sealing a pact with the devil. The cold metal in my hand was a stark reminder of the path I had just taken. “You’ll get your money,” I assured him but the words tasted like ash in my mouth.
As I turned to leave, he called out, “Oh, Papi” pausing for dramatic effect, “don’t even think about crossing me. I have eyes everywhere, even inside your precious base.”
The final warning wasn’t really necessary. I would never risk betraying a man of his calibre.
The drive back was a blur. I felt like the weight of the gun in my pocket was anchoring me to the reality of what I had done. The familiar sight of the base brought a wave of relief, but it was tainted by the fear of what lay ahead.
I approached the gate where the familiar guard was more interested in his sports news than his duties. “Tough game, huh?” I said, nodding toward the website I noticed he had opened on his phone.
“You have no idea,” he grumbled, waving me through without a second glance.
I got in and I had my protection.
