PANIC SURGED THROUGH ANDRE'S body. The maple tree ahead of him made an exit barely possible. Juarez and Antonio were already greeting the new arrivals when he decided to shift the transmission into drive. Slowly easing forward, he felt relief when he passed the maple tree. Sharply turning the steering wheel to miss the corner of the root cellar, he pressed down hard on the accelerator. The truck weaved, kicking up dirt and stone as it hit the gravel drive. Focused ahead, he sped along the long drive to the main road. Glancing into his rear mirror, he breathed a sigh of relief. Now, he thought, it was just putting into action what he and Juarez had discussed once he reached the main road.
“Why’s the kid in such a hurry?” asked Doug Irwin, stepping out of the Navigator. He flicked the ash off from his cigar. “Wherever he’s going, I sure hope he makes it.”
“He will,” Antonio replied, smiling, as the passenger door to the Navigator swung open and the other man gingerly stepped out. “Ken, I’m so pleased to meet you again.” He wrapped his arms around him. “We will have some Aguardiente and talk once our meeting is finished. Right now, you and Doug go with Juarez.” He watched them as they headed toward the root cellar. “Juarez!” Juarez stopped and glanced back. He wished things could have been different as he stared at Juarez. “Oh...Nothing." Betrayed, he felt he had no choice about what was about to happen. Still, for a moment, he felt a twinge of regret as he watched the three men walk away.
When Antonio entered the house, he pulled out his phone. “Gervasi!”
“Yes, sir!”
“There’s a truck heading your way.”
“I can see its headlights.”
“Stop it.”
“Anything else?”
“It's supposed to be just carrying eggs and chickens. Call me if you find anything else.” Hanging up, he carried on down the hall to the study.
A short distance from the root cellar Doug stepped in front of Juarez. “Hey! What do you think you're doing?" he asked, coming to a full stop. He did not like how the two men peered at him. Stepping to one side, he prepared for the worse. “What’s going on?”
“Going on?” Ken rejoined. “Nothing’s going on. Is there anything going on, Doug?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Doug replied.
Juarez gauged his foes for weakness. It was obvious to him that their intent was to do him harm. He scanned Ken’s lean, muscular physique for weaknesses and came up empty-handed. Doug was a different story. His obvious poor conditioning and reflexes would not be a challenge. He watched Doug withdraw his Glock as he opened the door to the root cellar. The next words out of Doug’s mouth electrified him. “Enter your grave-site, you fuckin’ copper.”