The Rescue

26

Six hours later, Dan Strickland is at Adolfo’s in Laguna, sitting in a back booth of the restaurant with OGs Frank and Héctor — Carlos Palma’s Barrio Logan diplomats.

Frank is skinny and tall, and has the weirdest golden eyes that Strickland has ever seen. Héctor is thickly muscled. Both wear chinos and hoodies against the early March morning.

Strickland understands that when El Gordo learns what happened to his ambassadors last night — the guy with the dog noose and the stylish blonde were pictured in Blog Narco feature, “The New Sinaloans,” almost a year ago — he’ll send in reinforcements for revenge on Joe and Bettina. Bettina has obviously betrayed him to the DEA, costing him blood and treasure. Joe’s been targeted for death since the Sinaloans first saw the odd little dog humiliating them in their own city.

Strickland also knows it will take El Gordo days, not weeks, to deduce what the DEA has done with his people and his cash. Silence is all the feds will give him now, letting him dangle in the quiet wind. El Gordo will turn to Bettina for information, soon.

Strickland checks the booths around them — just a couple of surfers, blue-lipped with cold — then leans in and keeps his voice low. The kitchen roars with breakfast orders just a yard or two away.

“Joaquín is MIA and Valeria is under federal arrest,” he says. “It happened a few hours ago. So our job just got easier. For now.”

“Good,” says Frank.

“They’ll send better people next time,” says Héctor.

Strickland sips his coffee. He has spent every minute of the last few hours letting his ideas run off-leash, imagining alternatives, measuring risks, comparing angles, and forecasting consequences. All in service of making the world safe and right for the three things he loves — Joe, Bettina, and himself.

And he’s done it.

He’s found a way. It’s going to take all his skills and luck. It’s going to cost him some treasure. But he’s found a way to protect his family.

First, he’ll have to pitch his deal with El Gordo, pretty much immediately.

Of course, El Gordo’s first reaction will be to have Strickland killed along with Bettina and Joe. But El Gordo is smart too. He’ll take the deal because it’s a good one.

Because he’ll be able to inflict the same costly embarrassment to the Jalisco New Generation Cartel that it has inflicted on him — the great El Gordo.

Because he’ll be able to get his money back, plus interest.

Because he will be able to feel powerful, by rescuing an innocent young woman.

There are three downsides to his plan that Strickland can see.

One is that he’ll have to arrange Joe’s kidnapping from Bettina without her knowing he’s behind it. Easy enough. But it will pain him to hurt her like that. He cares for her in a way he’s never cared for anyone. Except, of course, himself and Joe. He needs Joe back, but not just for business. He loves that dog.

The second downside has settled to the bottom of Strickland’s soul like a frozen anchor: after he and Joe are reunited, any future with Bettina may be doomed. But maybe, just maybe he can make it work. There has to be a way. He must remain positive and optimistic.

And count his blessings, such as having Joe again, and all that solid, Joe-generated cash coming in from both the New Generation and the Sinaloa cartels. He’s got no choice really — it’s not like he can give Carlos two weeks’ notice.

Which leads to downside three: Carlos will find him out someday. But Strickland is already working on a plan for that.

He really can’t believe he didn’t think of this sooner. He doesn’t have any problem with the audacity of it. He’s taken risks before that have worked out in his favor because of their audacity. Such as hiring out himself and his dog to help one cartel rob another in the first place.

Working for two cartels and running Apex, he’ll amass a fortune, he thinks. A small fortune — nothing like his father and mother’s — but enough for him to live out this precarious, adrenaline-crazed, take-what-is-offered life he was apparently born for.

“So, my good hombres, Joe is fine and I’ll be handling things here for myself. You can go back to San Diego now.”

“C won’t like this,” says Héctor.

“I’ve already talked to him,” says Strickland. “He’s on board.”

This “on board” claim of Strickland’s is not purely fictional. Just half an hour ago he talked to Carlos, who sounded old and hungover and foggy about why he’d ordered his men to Laguna in the first place.

“We didn’t come all the way up here just to turn around and go home,” says Frank.

“Why not?” asks Strickland. “Breakfast is on me.”

This draws a strange, golden-eyed stare from Frank. “You want the reporter as much as you want the dog.”

“Leave her out of it. Joe is a talented animal, and getting him back to work is what C wants. I’ll see to it.”

“Your Tijuana enemies call you loco,” says Héctor.

“So do your Tijuana friends,” says Frank.

Strickland sets three twenties under his half-finished breakfast plate, stands, and walks out.