Drew stood outside the building. He had a wire, but it only went to a recorder hidden under his bomber jacket. His partners didn’t know he was here. They thought the drug king pin worked out of a warehouse somewhere on the edges of Albuquerque. Drew’s informant said the man could be found here and he could get in by saying, “Tell El Jefe that Dave sent me.”
The dogs were chained. They buzzed him through the gate when he said the right words to the intercom. The door opened just as he was adjusting the camera in the button of his breast pocket.
“Wrong house. El Jefe moved. But if you need a fix…”
Drew hesitated. A long time.
The Hub: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Photo credit: © ceayr
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