Once everyone had settled back into their seats, a scar-faced man sitting by the door said in a low voice, "We're here. Check your weapons and magazines now. Make sure everything is in working order."
The others in the vehicle began checking their gear.
Only after they finished did the man take out a phone and dial a number.
The person on the other end answered almost immediately.
Hector's vicious voice came through the speaker.
"Listen up, all of you. I've already told you this once. This is the last time you'll hear my voice before you set out, and unless something goes wrong, the last time you'll hear it before you die."
"Your mission is a suicide attack. You're going there to die."
"Pour out every last bullet. Empty your magazines. Kill every moving person you see."
"Remember this: you cannot live to see tomorrow's sunrise. You have to die! If any of you get captured, bite off your tongue, smash your head against a wall-whatever it takes. You cannot survive, and you absolutely cannot name me!"
"As long as you do that, I guarantee that when the sun rises tomorrow, I'll personally see to it that all your debts are wiped out. Those pieces of trash who lent you money at exorbitant rates will never harass your families again. And..."
"I'll also give your families a hefty death benefit, enough to guarantee they can still live happy lives after losing you."
"You have my word as Hector Salamanca."
"Now, begin the operation!"
Crack!
The folding phone was snapped in half. No uncertainty remained in anyone aboard the vehicle, only madness and despair.
San Diego City wasn't far from Tijuana. In fact, from a high vantage point in Tijuana, one could look toward San Diego City and see