THIRTY
Hard Bargaining
I paused as I stepped out of the conference room. Mother was sitting in a chair in a small waiting area, casually flipping through a
Fortune
magazine. After a moment she sensed my presence, looked up, and then smiled.
"Finished?" she asked as she placed the magazine aside and stood.
"That's what they tell me."
I'd been the guest of the DEA for the past five days. When Mother delivered Valencia and me to the McAllen office, I was separated from the two women, and I hadn't seen Mother or Val since. I'd been put up in a hotel room, first in McAllen, and then in Houston, and I'd had two agents as my shadow since. My world had shrunk to the hotel room, the conference room in the DEA's Division Office in Houston, where I was debriefed, and the drive between the two. After the second day in Houston, I'd started asking about Valencia and Mother, but had received only placating non-answers.
I was glad the debrief was over. The agents who were questioning me never directly accused me of lying, but I had the distinct impression they were trying to catch me in an inconsistency. They asked the same questions over and over--'Why'd you do this?' or 'Where'd you do that?'--but subtly changing the wording each time. Anytime they thought they'd caught me contradicting myself, they'd seized on the perceived discrepancy and the questions became more direct and intense. 'Yesterday you said A, B, and C. Today you're saying X, Y, and Z. Which is it?' I'd then explain what they thought was an inconsistency, and once they were satisfied, the normal questions would resume. Had the interrogating continued many more days, someone was going to get punched... or I'd have started refusing to answer their questions.
She nodded. "I thought I'd give you a ride home."
"Thanks."
She led me through the warren of offices and down to the parking garage where her Cadillac waited, the lights flashing as we approached. I opened the passenger door and settled into the car. A moment later, Mother slid behind the wheel and pressed the starter button. She snapped her seatbelt and then opened the center console before reaching inside and withdrawing my Sig.
She handed it to me with a smile. "I think this is yours."
"Thanks," I said as I took the weapon and quickly checked it. The weapon was loaded, but there wasn't one in the chamber, and the safety was on. Normally I carried with one in the pipe, but I placed the weapon in the cup holders as it was. "So?"
"So... you and Agent Cantor did good."
"Was she able to convince the bozo's she hadn't turned?"
Mother snicked the car into gear and said nothing until she was out of the parking space. "She's still being debriefed, but let's say she's winning them over. Some of the information she's given us has checked out."
"But not all?"
"I wouldn't say that. Some of it is incomplete and will require more digging, but what we could easily check seems legit." She turned out of the garage and accelerated away. "Some of it, if it checks out, is... incredible. Almost unbelievable." She glanced at me and smiled. "I've been following her debrief, and yours. That was some wild shit you did."
"Yeah."
"Did you really fight Víctor like you said?"
"Are you talking about the last time, in the box, or the time before when our cocks were in that pussy vice thing?"
"Yes. Both."
"Yeah. Not fun."
"Fuck..."
she growled, drawing the world out long. "Those are some sick bastards."
I shrugged. "Didn't you already know that?"
"We had suspicions, but we didn't know there were formalized games, with rules and such. We thought it was just a bunch of men and women getting together to fuck in an orgy while people watched. Not that it matters for why I sent you in, but..."
"But?" I prompted.
"But... I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"It wasn't all bad," I said with a small smile.
Not only had I experienced the best sex I'd ever had, and may ever have, the DEA hadn't asked me about the money Voice paid me, I hadn't mentioned it, and I still had it. I'd spent a lot getting out of Mexico, but I had much more left. Now that I was back in the states, I'd convert my pesos back to dollars and see how much of Voice's money I still had.
"No, I suppose it wasn't."
"So, did I earn my bonus?"
She glanced at me and smiled. "I guess you haven't been able to check your account."
"No. They wouldn't let me use a computer."
"It's there. Three hundred twenty-five thousand, just like we agreed."
I glared at her. "That's not what we agreed on. The deal was five hundred thousand."
"And that's what I paid you. You didn't really think you were going to get that without the IRS getting theirs first, did you?" She grinned at me. "I've done some sketchy shit in my day, but I'm not fucking with the IRS."
I quickly calculated. "A hundred and seventy-five thousand?"
"That's right. Thirty-five percent. Don't bitch. If you'd gotten what you wanted, they'd have taken thirty-seven percent of it."
"Fuck," I grunted. I couldn't explain why I was pissed off. Three-twenty-five was more money than I'd ever had in my life, but I was still pissed the government took such a big chunk of what Mother had paid me.
She grinned at me. "Sorry. Nothing I could do about it."
"Yeah, I know... but still... fuck."
As she worked her way across town to my apartment, we talked about my time in Mexico. I'd given the examiner all the important details, but I'm sure her report was as dry as burnt toast, and Mother was clearly wanting more intimate and nuanced details.
