Ballistic(32)
“You really expect trouble?”
“Organized trouble? Maybe not. But at this point in time, DLR has more fans in Puerto Vallarta than Eddie Gamboa does. Depending on the crowd, the disposition of the cops holding back traffic, the extent to which the pro–de la Rocha group fires up the audience, the number of drunks and lowlifes who stagger into the protest . . . Christ, I could see this getting out of hand really easily.”
With only a moment’s hesitation, Court hefted his green canvas bag off the ground and slapped the older man on the shoulder. “Good call, Chuck. Let’s go.”
They drove south in Cullen’s red two-door CrossFox. Traffic was heavy, but the seventy-two-year-old American weaved through it expertly. Court recognized that he could not have driven these streets half as well as the old man.
Cullen filled Court in as they drove. “It’s Monday, so there will be a cruise ship in port. Thousands of tourists down on the Malecon, the boardwalk lining the beach. Plus locals come into downtown on Mondays. The streets would be tight, even without this protest going on. I know a place I can park east of the event, just up the hill from the action.”
“The site of this rally. What’s it like?”
“It’s called the Parque Hidalgo. Used to be a park, but the city cleared out the grass and the trees and the market, so now it’s just a flat, open cement plaza sitting on top of an underground parking lot. I guess the plaza is about fifty yards square, ’bout three blocks inland from the beach. There is a big staircase running off the plaza to the left that leads up to a street on the hill above. The Talpa Church sits up there.”
“Does the church provide overwatch on the location?”
“Overwatch? Hell, son, I never was a ground pounder, but I get what you mean. Yeah, it might. Not sure, to tell you the truth.”
“And in front of the plaza?”
“Just a busy downtown road. Three lanes, all one way, and gridlocked this time of day. Buildings on the other side. Commercial property. My dentist’s office is right in there. There’s some construction going on if I remember correctly. Everything is four stories high or so.”
“I need a phone,” Court said as a plan of action began to form in his head.
“Here, take mine.” Cullen reached towards the BlackBerry on his belt.
“No, I need my own, so I can contact you after we split up.”
“Why are we splitting up? We need to stay around Elena and the family. She’s seven months pregnant; somebody throws a beer bottle, and she won’t be able to get out of the way. Ernesto and Luz aren’t as old as me, but they aren’t as fit, either. Laura can handle herself, but Eddie’s brothers are worthless; his uncles and aunts are mountain people who’ve probably never even seen a crowd this big before. We need to protect the family.”
“We will. Look, trust me. Let’s do this my way.”
Cullen looked at Court out of the corner of his eye while he drove through thickening traffic. “Help me understand just what skills you are bringing to the table.”
Court’s game face slowly hardened. “If I were armed, I’d be bringing more skills to the table.”
The captain sighed. “We don’t want to do anything to make a bad situation worse. Somebody charging in in a blaze of glory is not going to—”
“I’m not looking for glory. If the shit doesn’t hit the fan, you won’t even know I’m there.”
“Good.”
“This rally . . . Do you expect the press to be there?”
“Most definitely.”
Court reached over to Cullen, pulled the USS Buchanan cap from his head. He put it on his own and pulled it down low.
Cullen looked at him as he drove.
By way of explanation, Court said, “I’m a little camera shy.”
“Do I want to know why?”
Court shook his head, looked out at the road. “You really don’t.”
Cullen turned back to the road himself; the creases in his face deepened in thought and worry.
“What have you done, son?”
“I’m just like the other good guys down here. There are enough bad guys around that I don’t want them to see my face.”
Cullen nodded, but it was obvious he was still suspicious. He reached into the backseat and pulled an identical Buchanan cap from the floorboard and put it on his silver-maned head.
They pulled into a supermarket, and Cullen rushed inside, came back a few minutes later with a cell phone and a wired earpiece in black plastic. Court had already ripped the devices out of their packaging before Cullen had pulled the CrossFox out of the parking lot.