She poured them coffee in delicate china cups, set out sugar cubes and a pitcher of cream, accepted their thanks with a nod, and disappeared through a doorway. Garza toasted in her direction, then took a sip. "My daughter, Aracelia. Beautiful girl, like her mother."
"You're a lucky man," Conor said, dropping two sugars and a huge drizzle of cream into his cup.
Matt's black coffee tasted as good as it smelled, strong and just bitter enough.
"Yes," Garza replied. "Forgive me, but I have much to do today, so let us get straight to business. Your superiors said you have an offer for me."
Matt ran his tongue over his front teeth. As an investigator for the Tennessee State Police, he'd cut dozens of deals with criminals for one reason or another, but none of those criminals were drug lords. The man across from him wasn't a two-bit thug selling dime bags on the corner. Busting a syndicate boss like Onofre Garza would make a policeman's career. Hell, it would make the head of the DEA's career. Garza had enough outstanding warrants that the only hard part about arresting him would be dealing with the Mexican authorities, and under UN treaty, ICAP had wide latitude when prosecuting the Jade market.
Matt suppressed the thought and the accompanying sigh. Conor had tagged along just in case he needed a translator en route, but Garza spoke perfect English, so it fell to Matt to make the deal, no matter how slimy it made him feel.
"Senor Garza, thank you for your hospitality." He took another sip. "As you know, ICAP's main goal is the containment of Gerstner technologies, in particular Jade, and above and beyond that we have a vested interest in apprehending and prosecuting Dawkins. We're looking for information: who he is, where he operates, known associates. He's made this personal, and we're inclined to take him up on it."
Garza smiled. "This distinction between business and personal is for the movies, no? Business is livelihood, livelihood is personal." He shook off the thought. "No matter. The real question is why I would do such a thing for you. As they say, what's in it for me?" He smiled his red smile.
Conor folded his hands under his chin. "What do you want?" Matt suppressed an annoyed grunt. Conor wasn't trained in negotiation, and his instructions were to keep his trap shut.
Garza sighed and leaned back in his chair. "What do any of us want? Money? Power? Beautiful women? The freedom to live in a paradise of my own making? I have these things already."
Then why aren't you retired? Conor opened his mouth to ask.
Matt cut him off before he could start. "I'm sure there's something of value to your business interests that we could provide. A foothold in Florida?"
"Senor Dawkins has provided this already. Your adventure in the Keys cost him a great deal of money but has made me more still. Money doesn't disappear, it just goes elsewhere. To me and my associates, for example. This drug war is not a winnable fight for your — "
Conor cut him off. "As soon as he's up and running again, you're out of Florida. The only way that's not true is if — "
Matt grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the entrance, his vision flushing red. Through clenched teeth he said, "If you can't keep your goddamned mouth shut, wait outside." He opened the door, shoved Conor through, and shut it. He walked back to the table, where Garza looked at him with raised eyebrows. "I'm sorry, Senor Garza, for my colleague's behavior. If we may continue?"
Garza gestured to the chair, so Matt sat.
"As I was saying, my organization already has a foothold in Florida because of the supply vacuum you so graciously created. Dawkins will like this territory back, to be sure, but that does not mean we will surrender what we have gained, and he knows it. We have the matter well in hand and are confident that our plans going forward do not require your assistance. Let's not dance around with these petty offerings. What do you have that I want?"
"Hernando,"
"You're a lucky man," Conor said, dropping two sugars and a huge drizzle of cream into his cup.
Matt's black coffee tasted as good as it smelled, strong and just bitter enough.
"Yes," Garza replied. "Forgive me, but I have much to do today, so let us get straight to business. Your superiors said you have an offer for me."
Matt ran his tongue over his front teeth. As an investigator for the Tennessee State Police, he'd cut dozens of deals with criminals for one reason or another, but none of those criminals were drug lords. The man across from him wasn't a two-bit thug selling dime bags on the corner. Busting a syndicate boss like Onofre Garza would make a policeman's career. Hell, it would make the head of the DEA's career. Garza had enough outstanding warrants that the only hard part about arresting him would be dealing with the Mexican authorities, and under UN treaty, ICAP had wide latitude when prosecuting the Jade market.
Matt suppressed the thought and the accompanying sigh. Conor had tagged along just in case he needed a translator en route, but Garza spoke perfect English, so it fell to Matt to make the deal, no matter how slimy it made him feel.
"Senor Garza, thank you for your hospitality." He took another sip. "As you know, ICAP's main goal is the containment of Gerstner technologies, in particular Jade, and above and beyond that we have a vested interest in apprehending and prosecuting Dawkins. We're looking for information: who he is, where he operates, known associates. He's made this personal, and we're inclined to take him up on it."
Garza smiled. "This distinction between business and personal is for the movies, no? Business is livelihood, livelihood is personal." He shook off the thought. "No matter. The real question is why I would do such a thing for you. As they say, what's in it for me?" He smiled his red smile.
Conor folded his hands under his chin. "What do you want?" Matt suppressed an annoyed grunt. Conor wasn't trained in negotiation, and his instructions were to keep his trap shut.
Garza sighed and leaned back in his chair. "What do any of us want? Money? Power? Beautiful women? The freedom to live in a paradise of my own making? I have these things already."
Then why aren't you retired? Conor opened his mouth to ask.
Matt cut him off before he could start. "I'm sure there's something of value to your business interests that we could provide. A foothold in Florida?"
"Senor Dawkins has provided this already. Your adventure in the Keys cost him a great deal of money but has made me more still. Money doesn't disappear, it just goes elsewhere. To me and my associates, for example. This drug war is not a winnable fight for your — "
Conor cut him off. "As soon as he's up and running again, you're out of Florida. The only way that's not true is if — "
Matt grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the entrance, his vision flushing red. Through clenched teeth he said, "If you can't keep your goddamned mouth shut, wait outside." He opened the door, shoved Conor through, and shut it. He walked back to the table, where Garza looked at him with raised eyebrows. "I'm sorry, Senor Garza, for my colleague's behavior. If we may continue?"
Garza gestured to the chair, so Matt sat.
"As I was saying, my organization already has a foothold in Florida because of the supply vacuum you so graciously created. Dawkins will like this territory back, to be sure, but that does not mean we will surrender what we have gained, and he knows it. We have the matter well in hand and are confident that our plans going forward do not require your assistance. Let's not dance around with these petty offerings. What do you have that I want?"
"Hernando,"
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