Free Tequila Sunset by Sam Hawken Page A

like?”
    “Nice,” Flip said.
    “‘Nice’? What, are you kidding me? Is she good to go or what?”
    “Not tonight, I don’t think,” Flip said.
    “That’s too bad, because she is fine.”
    “You think maybe you can take me home?” Flip asked.
    “Take you home? The place doesn’t close down until two!”
    “I know, but I think I’m going to call it a night. I don’t have money for cab fare.”
    Emilio rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to take no cab. I’ll do it. But you’re cutting in on my time, man. Don’t forget.”
    “I won’t.”
    Graciela returned with a napkin and gave it to Flip. “Here you go,” she said. “If you can’t get hold of me, just leave a message.”
    Flip folded up the napkin and put it in his pocket. “Thanks. I’ll give you my number when I have one.”
    “All right,” Graciela said and she smiled. “It was good to meet you, Flip.”
    “Same here.”
    Emilio interposed himself between them. “I don’t want to break you two up, but Flip says he has to go right now. So…”
    “Good night, Flip.”
    “Good night.”
    “You want to say thank you to the boss,” Emilio told Flip and jerked his thumb toward José.
    “Yeah, right.”
    Flip went to José. The man’s head bobbled and his eyes were glassy. The short table in front of the couch was crowded with empty glasses. Flip did not know how many were José’s.
    “How’s it going, Flip?” José asked.
    “I’m leaving now. I wanted to thank you for a nice night out.”
    “Leaving?!?”
    “Yeah, I got to go, man.”
    “Well, if you got to go…” José finished the drink in his hand. Immediately the girl at his elbow got up and headed for the bar. “Sure I can’t convince you to stay?”
    “No, but thank you for everything.”
    “ De nada . I hope you had a good time.”
    “I did.”
    “Then it was worth it.”
    Flip came away from José and found Emilio. They left together. Flip looked back once to see if Graciela was watching, but she was already talking to another girl. Then she was out of sight.

SIXTEEN
    M ATÍAS ARRANGED FOR SIX OF THE A ZTECAS to be taken from their jail cells after dark and without warning. Flashlights were shined in their faces and then black bags were put over their heads. They were chained hand and foot and forced to shuffle their way barefoot along to the interrogation rooms where they were slotted away, one after the other.
    He let them sit in the rooms for an hour without anyone coming to remove their hoods. In the meantime Matías gathered with his teammates and discussed what came next.
    Sosa and Galvan were the muscle. They would go in first and Matías would follow after they had a chance to do their interview. Each man would be in the interrogation room for no more than twenty minutes. Some would be waiting a long time to see Matías, while others would see him right away. The goal was to keep them off-balance, never sure when the next interviewer would enter the room, and they would keep this up until dawn.
    Matías found a straight-backed wooden chair and sat in the dingy hallway between interrogation rooms. The walls had not been painted for a long time and the floors were dirty enough that he would not want to touch them with his bare hands. He was impressed by the silence; even those prisoners who had been stirred awake were lying in the darkness hoping it was not their turn next and the others slept without any worry except what would be for breakfast in the morning.
    He could not even hear Sosa and Galvan at work. The doors were thick, the rooms soundproofed. It was just as well because Matías did not have the constitution to do what they did. In times like these, he was content to let experts do their work without interference.
    An officer brought a hot carafe of coffee and Matías indulged himself. It was going to be a long night and he needed to remain alert. There would be no going home until it was evening again. Already he missed having a morning