Free Green Ice: A Deadly High by Christian Fletcher Page A

out too much though. Those guys will soon vamoose or at least be suspicious if they see a couple of gringos hanging around near their place. We need to be a bit savvy here.”
    Trey slid the Thunderbird into a parking space on the side of the road next to the oncoming intersection. Mancini didn’t like the position they were in, nose first against the sidewalk and a stationary vehicle either side of them.
    “Pull out and back into the space, at least,” he sighed. “We’re boxed right in here.”
    “Okay,” Trey huffed and carried out the vehicle maneuver, stopping traffic in both directions in the process.
    Mancini baulked at the honking horns from the impatient drivers, waiting to carry on their journeys. Trey finally negotiated the steering and eased the Thunderbird into the parking slot. He cut the engine and sat in silence, waiting for the next move.
    Mancini studied the map on his lap, plotting the quickest exit route out of Ensenada. He hoped the shit wouldn’t hit the fan and they wouldn’t have to leave in too much of a hurry. Worst case scenario was they’d both be leaving the city in body bags.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Ten
     
    Mancini figured out the quickest and easiest route out of Ensenada from their position and showed Trey the way by running his finger along the road lines on the map. Trey nodded and flashed him a nervous glance.
    “You still up for this?” Mancini asked.
    Trey gulped and nodded. He wanted to prove himself to Mancini and prove he was capable of carrying out such a dangerous assignment within Oreilles’s network. Mancini went to the trunk and took out the holdall the tall guy had given him. He returned to the passenger seat and placed the bag at his feet. Trey watched Mancini hunch over the holdall, loading the two Heckler and Koch handguns and fill the spare magazines with 9mm rounds.
    “You know how to use one of these?”
    “Sure,” Trey muttered. “I’ve been a member of a gun club since I was old enough to hold one.”
    “How old are you?”
    “Twenty-four,” Trey stated. “How old are you?”
    “You ever fired at anything other than targets or bottles?”
    Trey shrugged. “Sure, I’ve been out hunting a whole bunch of times.”
    “This is way different to firing at deer or swamp rats , or whatever the hell you’ve been used to hunting. You ever fired a shot at another human being?”
    “I shot my sister with a pellet gun once. Does that count?”
    Mancini snickered. “Yeah, that counts,” he mockingly sighed. “Just don’t freeze up on me but don’t do any shooting, unless I do first, okay?”
    Trey nodded and Mancini leaned close to hand him the loaded firearm.
    “Keep it out of sight in the back of your waistband,” Mancini hissed and passed him two spare, loaded magazines.
    Trey shoved the magazines into the side pockets of his shorts, hoping they wouldn’t stand out visibly as an outline too much. Mancini leaned forward and slid his own handgun down the back of his waistband then put his spare magazines in his cargo pants pockets.
    “To answer your question, I’m thirty-five,” he said. “Ready?”
    Trey looked nervous but nodded with false bravado. “Let’s do this,” he croaked, trying to sound convincing. 
    “Okay, let’s go then, Audie Murphy, ” Mancini said, then climbed out of the car.
    “Who the hell is Audie Murphy?” Trey asked, hauling himself out of his seat.
    Mancini shook his head. “Young guys today,” he sighed. “Google him, if we ever get out of this situation alive.”
    “What?”
    “Just kidding, come on. Let’s find this damn house.”
    Mancini placed the holdall back inside the trunk and Trey locked it up. He ensured he locked the glove box and checked he’d left nothing on the seats.
    “I hope nobody thinks of jacking my ride whilst we’re away,” Trey said , slipping on his sunshades.
    “Me too,” Mancini sighed. “It’ll be a hell of a long walk if it’s gone