The Border Lords by T. Jefferson Parker Read Free Book Online Page B

clean, that’s me.”
    “I see you have an ankle gun.”
    “It’s an eight-shot Smith AirLite. Charlie Hood turned me on to them.”
    “Never had to draw my gun on duty. Not once.”
    “They’ll kill that boy if they don’t get their ransom fast enough. They might kill him anyway.”
    “Kill a kid over business,” said Clovis. “Pure animals. Nothing’s the same in this world anymore.”
    “Everything’s the same as it always was.”
    “Can’t say I really agree with that.”
    “And that’s why I have two guns.”
    “Coffee?” asked Clovis.
    “Let’s just drive fast, make something happen, arrest somebody.”
    “Oh, man, you’ve got a lot to learn. First patrol shift, right?”
    Bradley nodded, smiling. “I’m kidding, Jerry. Coffee would be good.”
     
     
    L.A. Sheriff’s Department patrol area two includes the rough territory along the broken Los Angeles River, from Maywood down to Compton, which was where Bradley Jones and Jerry Clovis were now patrolling, fresh coffees in hand. These were no longer the days of Winchell’s coffee but of specialty double espressos and low-fat lattes, which Clovis and Bradley drank respectively.
    Clovis drove. Bradley looked out the very clean windshield at the city of South Gate, unassuming and unbeautiful in the smog-muted autumn light. They cruised Tweedy out to South Gate Park, looped it once slowly with an eye for drug peddlers, but it was quiet and the cover of darkness was still more than an hour away.
    “You ever do anything heroic?” asked Bradley.
    “I actually delivered a baby once.”
    “Fantastic. How did it go?”
    “I didn’t do much, really. Put her in back with a blanket from the trunk, then drove under siren, lights on full. Then when the screams got too loud, I got worried so I pulled over and held on to the lady’s head while she screamed and pushed and thrashed around in the back. Then out it came. A girl. Bloody mess but she started bawling, too, and by the time we got to the hospital they were waiting for us and the mom was wrung out but smiling.”
    “Now, that’s a good tale.”
    “Not sure how heroic it really was.”
    “You up for some heroics tonight?”
    “Yeah, right, we’ll bust a nickel-bag crack dealer in Compton.”
    “How about we rescue Stevie Carrasco?”
    Clovis looked over at him. “Sure. Anytime.”
    “I’m going to find out where he is.”
    Clovis looked over at him again. “No, you aren’t.”
    Bradley sighed. “Old men.”
    “You’re joking again, right, Jones?”
    “You in or out?”
    “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
    “Pretend we really are having it. Rescue Stevie Carrasco. Would you be in or out?”
    Clovis said nothing for a long time. “Give me more details.”
    “Happy to: Carlos Herredia’s North Baja Cartel has an old alliance with La Eme and Florencia Thirteen. A loose alliance. They’ve been here in L.A. awhile, low-profile, doing business, building market share. But the Gulf Cartel has moved in. Benjamin Armenta and his MS-13 gangstas mean business. They’ve taken out six Florence boys in four months but nobody has figured the why. That’s because our brethren in law enforcement think the cartels are still safely confined south of the border. Well, guess what? Armenta and the Salvadorans have pretty much sewn up the east side and now they want South Central. Stevie’s dad is Rocky Carrasco, an Eme favorite. The Salvadorans grabbed his kid. Rocky’s already gotten a ransom demand for half a million in small dirty bills that smell like herb, crack, crank and Mexican brown H. With me?”
    “How do you know this stuff?”
    “Does it matter?”
    “You’re serious.”
    “I’m serious. What if you got a chance to do something good tonight? To use all your training, all your preparation, to do a good act. Delivering the baby? Absolutely fabulous, Jerry. But now you’ve got a chance to take it up a notch. Pull over, please.”
    Clovis pulled the prowler