“No, Ham-Hock, what you are is a greedy motherfucker,” Hunter spat, “and what's more, you know it. And so does everyone, including Gaspar. So he counted on you not to bother questioning the promise of...what was it, 'five million dollars?'” Hunter laughed contemptuously. “Please. What a crock of shit. The cartel were never going to find out about this until Gaspar had already done it, and by then, they certainly wouldn't agree to fork over that kind of cash.”
“You'd be lucky to get anything at all,” Missy said. “Why pay you for something you already did? And what choice would you have after the fact except to just bend over and take it, now that they were in charge and had proof you were dirty?”
“I'll bet you never even asked to talk to anyone from the cartel directly, did you?” Cain jeered. “No, Gaspar said it and that was enough for you, right? Man, he played you for a sucker, big-time.” He looked at the deputies, who were shifting uncomfortably and shooting worried looks at Hemmick. “All of you.”
“Shut your mouths,” Gaspar hissed, “or we'll mow you all down right fucking here.”
Condell lowered his gun, turning to Hemmick. “Hey, uh...this shit ain't true, right, Sheriff? You did talk to someone from the cartel about this deal, right? You didn't just hear it from him?”
“Yeah, I mean, what we agreed to do here...this stuff's enough to get all of us put away for a long fuckin' time if we got caught,” another deputy added. “I wouldn't have said yes to any of this if I didn't think the million you promised us was guaranteed.”
“You'll all get your money!” Gaspar insisted. “Just stay calm and stick to the plan.”
Hemmick's teeth were clenched so tightly that the muscles in his jaw were twitching. Slowly, the muzzle of his shotgun drifted from Hunter to Gaspar.
“Call them,” Hemmick said.
Gaspar raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me? Call who, exactly?”
“The cartel. Eduardo Barros is the big shot down there, right? So get him on the phone, or one of his sons, or whoever you answer to. Dial the number while I watch, and then put me on with them so I can confirm that they know about our deal and are prepared to pay us. You do that right now, and then we can go right back to the plan.”
Gaspar glared at Hemmick. After a long moment, he said, “Whether the cartel knew about this or not is irrelevant.”
“Fuck, I knew it!” Condell whined.
“I have money,” Gaspar continued urgently. “I can pay you myself.”
“Yeah?” Hemmick asked. “You've got eight million dollars? Great. Show me.”
“I have access to a little over half a million,” Gaspar said. “I can get that for you when we're finished here, and once we begin to sell our product in Micanaw, there will be more, lots more...”
“Smells like bullshit to me,” Cain commented mildly.
“Be quiet, fool!” Gaspar snapped.
“No,” Hemmick sighed. “When you come right down to it, I reckon I'm the fool this time around. Get down on your knees, Gaspar, and put your fucking hands on top of your head, and make sure all your men do likewise. Just because we're going to beat the hell out of you and claim you resisted arrest doesn't mean you actually have to do it.”
“That's not going to happen,” Gaspar snickered. Suddenly, his hands were a blur of movement as he whipped the pistols out of their holsters and hit the deck, firing.
Hemmick pulled the trigger of his shotgun, but the shot went wild as two of Gaspar's bullets hit him in the face—one in the left eye and the other just under his nose. He reeled backward, his remaining eye filled with surprise. He was dead before he hit the ground.
Gaspar's men all began to fire their machine guns, spraying bullets at the Eagles and the deputies. The bikers returned fire, trying to aim carefully as they took up positions behind their bikes and the van. The deputies took cover behind their cars and fired off their shotguns a few times, but one of them had his chest peppered by machine gun fire and went down squealing, the front of his uniform a mass of blood.
Condell and the other deputy looked at their fallen comrades, looked at each other, and ran away as fast as they could, leaving their parked patrol cars behind. Bullets hit the spinning blue lights on the tops of the cars, darkening them.
Missy crouched behind the van next to Cain, Hunter, and a few of the other Eagles. She risked a look over the hood of the van and saw that Christina and Pauline were still alive, their chairs in front of the door to room 20. Their eyes were filled with terror. They were a short distance from Gaspar's men, but Missy was still concerned that one of the bikers might accidentally hit them while returning fire.