The Prosecution of General Hastings

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Thursday morning dawned over Hermosillo with the promise of being a carbon copy of the day before, and the day before that… and so on. Not much seemed to change from day to day in this town that appeared so benign, so slow paced.

  Harry Kincaid held the curtain an inch to the side with one finger and looked outside, a habit with which he began every day no matter where he was. He saw nothing unusual thinking how deceiving looks could be. Who would ever guess at the activities that he and Von Karmenn had uncovered that could lead to such destruction and potential loss of life, all here in this sleepy little town. He took a shower in the community bathroom at the end of the hall. Von Karmenn had assured him that they were the only guests at the boarding house. When he returned to his room, he dressed, wearing the same jeans of the day before with a clean shirt. He heard Pete leave his room and go down to shower.

  Kincaid moved restlessly about with nothing to do. He searched through his bag and removed a military novel by W.E.B. Griffin and started to read. He would give it an hour before calling Capitán Juan Luis Lopez to arrange for their meeting with Rafael Carmello, el Lobo.

  Twenty minutes had passed when Von Karmenn knocked and came into Harry’s room carrying a deck of playing cards. “How about some Gin?” he asked.

  “Sure, Pete,” Harry answered, “just like old times over in Injun Country?”

  “One difference,” Pete said. “Let’s play ‘I win’ this time. As I recall you relieved me of several hundred dollars one night in Tora Bora.”

  “Aw, that was just beginner’s luck, Pete. You’re a much better player than I am,” Harry joked. “Same stakes… a buck a point?”

  Pete tossed the cards down on the table and sat. “Deal ‘em,” he said.

  Some time went by while the two guys played their game making idle conversation. It was just after ten o’clock in the morning when Harry stood and reached for his phone. “Time to call el Capitán,” he said.

  He pulled up the number that he had been given by Sluggo Decker two days before. Von Karmenn gathered up the cards and began to deal a hand of Solitaire while Kincaid made his call. If tensions were high, no casual observer would have guessed it. He hit ‘Send’ and waited for the connection. Von Karmenn could hear the indistinguishable voice of someone answering Kincaid’s call.

  “This is Harry Kincaid,” he said in his perfect Mexican Spanish. “I’m calling for Capitán Lopez. He’s expecting me.”

  After a very short wait, Lopez came on the line. “Señor Kincaid, I’ve been expecting you.”

  “Si, Capitán,” Harry said. “I am here to do business. At your convenience, today?”

  “Yes, of course. Señor Carmello is looking forward to our discussion. We can meet with you at twelve o’clock. Is that agreeable?”

  “Twelve o’clock will be fine, Capitán. Shall I come to your office?” asked Harry.

  “Oh, no, Señor Kincaid,” Lopez contested. “I have arranged a nice place for us at La Hacienda. It is a pleasant little hotel on avenida de la Huerta, near the university. Room 104. Do you think you can find it?”

  “I’m sure I will be able to find it, Capitán,” Harry responded. “Twelve o’clock?” he asked.

  “Si,” Lopez confirmed. “And, Señor Kincaid? Are you prepared to effect shipment of the pistols we seek? Today?” he asked.

  “We shall see, Capitán. If a minor request is met, I’m sure you will be pleased with our arrangements.” Kincaid was pleased that Lopez seemed anxious. That should make his bargain easier.

  “Bueno” he said. “We will see you there at twelve.” Kincaid disconnected from the call.

  He looked over at Von Karmenn. “Your deal,” he said.