11:00 AM

The magic hour approached. Bro and Sis worked in the garage cleaning and loading their weapons. Earlier they checked their current location on the map against the coordinates Angel provided. The meeting place was less than a half-hour drive. But first, they needed to fill their tank at the Parritas gas station. Another goddamn gas station.

While they worked, Raul Ortiz stepped in dragging a large slab of steel. “This is what you youngsters need,” he said standing the object up against the wall.  

“Is that bulletproof?” Sis asked. 

“Yes!” Raul pulled a forty-five revolver from his waist and shot the slab. The bullet didn’t penetrate.

“Wow!” Sis yelped with her ears covered. 

“I had this metal for four years now. So that means God told me to save it for you,” he said while installing the hunk behind the truck rear-door and fastening it with heavy-duty clamps.  

“We appreciate your help, Raul,” Bro said. “But what did you see in town?”

 “Three young men in a red car at the gas station. They’re watching people. I passed by twice and I don’t know them.”

“Ok,” Bro nodded.

Mr. Ortiz moved closer to inspect the twin’s weapons. “We all live or die with the choices we make.” 

“We choose to fight,” Sis said. 

“Oh?” He smiled at her, “If I wasn't married I'd take down any cartel for you, my beautiful one.” 

“Raul, no!” Sis squeaked and turned away blushing. Then peeked at the elder man with a smile, "I'm not worthy." 

“Je-Je!” He gently took her hand and kissed it. “Your lies don't phase me.”

“Oh?” she purred, "In that case leave your wife and worship me, old man!"

“Ha ha ha!" he bellowed, "My love, your temptation is divine. And yes, I am an old fool! However,” he winked and tipped his hat to the bounty huntress, “if I ran away with you, that lady would hunt me down and stab me to death. I may be a fool but I'm not stupid!"

“Hahaha!” the twins burst out laughing as Mr. Ortiz exited the garage. 

But Bro stopped chuckling first. He climbed into the truck and turned the key to check the fuel gauge. Barely enough to go a few miles. He sat back and inhaled. 

We live or die with the choices we make. And he chose this route. He put his sister in harm’s way and damn near met death at the rest stop. And now…Bro rubbed his eyes and stared at the dashboard for an eternity. Sis approached him on the driver’s side. 

“Yo, Bro?”

“Hm? What’s up?” he snapped out of it. But she saw right through him. 

“You good?” she asked. 

“Yeah, I just.” He exhaled. 

“Right.” Sis yanked his shirt, “Do you want me to call Angel and tell her you're a little bitch?”

“Heh,” he looked down, “Sis, these people, Angel included. They’re out there now. And once we hit the highway they’re coming for us.”

“That ain't news to me,” she tapped his nose, “Oi, you get all that negative BS out of your head and focus on your one responsibility.”

“Responsibility?”

“That’s right, Bro. As fugitive agents, we took an oath to the great state of New York to ena-”

“What? No. Sis, our bounty hunter’s licenses are from Pennsylvania.”

“Oh shit! I forgot! Stupid New York gun laws!”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your speech,” he said. 

“My speech? Dammit, Bro! We took an oath to America to enact rule number four of the bounty hunters' code, which is what?” she pointed at him. 

“Protect the bounty,” he replied. 

“That’s right! Protect the bounty. And you’d better own up to that choice because Lupita became our responsibility the minute you invited her into the truck, you whacky simp! 

Bro gaped at her, “What the heck is a simp?”

“You, motherfucker!”  

“Ah, right,” he smirked, “Don't worry, Sis. I hear you and I'm with you."

“Ok then,” she pinched his gut.

"Ow." 

“Embrace the pain, Bro. And heed my pep talk, you ingrate.” 

“I will, good job.” 

“Praise me more.” 

He patted her head, “Armor up, Sis.” 

"That’s my line!" 

 

Let’s Go

Ready to depart, the twins said their goodbyes to Mr. and Mrs. Ortiz. The older women burst into tears and begged Bro, “Please, please, I prayed to god every hour to keep you children safe.”

"Thank you," Bro hugged the woman, “We’ll do what we need to do, Mrs. Ortiz.”

“But you can stay here with us,” she pleaded, “Just until all of this dies down.”

“Tia, please,” Lupita said, “They have kept me safe so far, now all we can do is have faith.”

Vera Ortiz bawled louder as Lupita climbed into the truck. Mr. Ortiz settled her down, “Vera, enough! We provided what they needed, and yes, they need more. But let them walk their path.”

The elder woman covered her face in tears as the engine started. Everyone was aware of the danger. Everyone accepted it. And with a last inhale, Bro put the truck in gear to roll out. 

“You guys ready?” he asked Sis and Lupita. 

They both nodded, and Lupita gave the final command, “Let’s go.”

 

11:35 AM: Parritas Gas Station

Chris “Keeke” Trujillo got the call from the Romero cartel around five-am. His orders, take two, guys and station yourself at the Parritas gas station. They texted him a description of a vehicle and the suspects: 

Old grey Ford Bronco, Texas license plates. Two Mexican Americans with Asian eyes. A guy and a girl with black hair. They are with Guadalupe “Lupita” Suarez. Fernando’s old girlfriend. Do not hurt Lupita. Juan Pablo wants her alive. Kill the Americans on sight.   

"The striker sucks, how could he miss that shot?" Keeke griped to his two partners. 

The three men sat in Keeke's car watching a soccer match on a phone. Every minute or so they would check out the cars stopping at the gas station.

"Yo, we've been here since seven a.m. what the fuck? Those Americans are long gone," Osa said from the backseat.

"Quit your bitchin, homie! It's not like you got any place to be," Barbo replied from the front. "Right, Keeke?"

Keeke didn't answer as he stared out at the road in front of the gas station. "Hey, that's the third time that old man in that pickup passed us."

"If he ain't stopping for gas then he ain't our problem," Osa said.

"I guess, I'm just bored," Keeke said. "I shouldn't want to kill an old man for nothing. But if he passes by again we're gonna stop him."

"Whatever, man... Oh shit, baby!" Barbo said before jumping out of the passenger side. 

"What?" Keeke asked, then glanced up at the commotion. "Oh wow!"

Behind their vehicle, a beautiful black-haired girl walked toward the gas station’s store. Small framed with the sweetest ass.

Within a millisecond Barbo leaped behind her and tapped her arm, "Excuse me miss, there's a tax for walking in this direction."

Keeke and Osa exited the car laughing at Barbo. As they reached him, the girl turned around. Her Asian eyes, fused with Latina beauty. This girl had to belong to someone.

“How much is the tax?” she asked in non-native Spanish.

"Babydoll, don't listen to that idiot," Keeke said smiling. But as he approached the girl he broke into a cold sweat, "Yo! She's wearing a bulletproof vest!" he screamed and reached for his gun.

But Keeke's arm never elevated as the crack of steel smashed the back of his head. The impact of the blow blacked him out. His body didn't remember hitting the ground.

A moment later he opened his eyes. Above him, the beautiful girl fired a suppressed Glock-19 point-blank at Barbo's forehead. His friend’s lifeless body crumpled to the pavement, never knowing what hit him.

To Keeke's right, a man matching the description of the American the Romeros gave, fired three shots into Osa, killing him. 

"Shit!" Keeke rolled over to get up. But the moment he turned his back on the assailants, a barrage of pistol whips and kicks struck his head and body. "Fuck away from me!" he tried to yell, but the savage beating muffled the words. 

His gun taken, Keeke tried to block the blows to his face. The attackers thrashed him until he curled into a fetal position. Even then, the guy and the girl kicked his teeth in and cracked his ribs. "Please!" he cried, but they wouldn't stop, as if they hated him.

During the commotion, a grey Ford Bronco pulled into the gas station. A young Mexican girl jumped out and immediately began filing the tank. 

When that happened the man stopped the beating and hurried toward the truck to take over the fueling. But the beautiful girl remained, lifted Keeke to his feet, and pistol-whipped him again.

"Walk, bitch, or I'll fuck you up!" she growled, dragging Keeke to his car. He could barely breathe as she slammed him against the vehicle door and ripped his phone out of his pocket.

"What's Juan Pablo's number?"

"What? I..."

When Keeke hesitated, the girl struck him so hard his left eye shut for good. Blood ran down his head, nose, and mouth. He slumped down to the ground, defeated. 

"What's the number?"

"Press star six," he whispered.

"You should have said that the first time, you stupid fuck!" She kicked him again, keeling his face to the concrete.

Now half-blind, Keeke gazed out at his two dead partners laid out before him. It all happened so fast. The girl then spoke on the phone.

"Is this Juan Pablo? I just called to tell you that you're my bitch. Mhm...Me? Now? I'm at Parritas gas station on route 2... Who's Keeke? Oh yeah, you want to talk to him?"

The girl lowered the phone to Keeke's face, "Go ahead, dummy. Tell your boss how my pussy distracted you but now you're paralyzed."

Keeke said nothing, but Juan Pablo's presence emanated from the phone. He turned away.

"He can't speak because I castrated him!" the girl said to Juan Pablo. "And listen, you shouldn't have started this fight with me, motherfucker. Because when I catch you, Ima gut you like a stuck pig!" Click! She hung up and placed the phone in her pocket.

"Hey, let's go!" the male partner yelled in English from the truck.

"Copy!" she replied, then pointed her gun at Keeke and fired, blowing off his knee cap.

"Grrraaah!" he screamed in agony, grabbing his leg.

"Lucky you ain't dead," she said to him before climbing in the passenger seat of the old grey Bronco with Texas plates. 

A moment later, the trio in the truck started the engine and raced East, While Keeke lay in his own blood at the gas station. Paralyzed.

 

..