Señor Vivo and the Coca Lord Read Online Free PDF Page B

they were scared of him, and agree, ‘OK, cabron, just one more, but then we go.’ There was a relentless force behind Hectoro’s unsmiling eyes, his haze of blue smoke that reminded them of El Jerarca, his tight lips, his sinewy leanness, and the imperiousness of his order to drink up, cabron. They were terrified of the way in which Hectoro became more icily sober as he tossed down one copa after another without flinching and without losing one iota of his cold intensity.
    Misael and Pedro came in and clapped them on the back, engaging them in a torrent of conversation which they could not follow and in which it was impossible to participate. Their eyes grew steadily more glazed and unfocused. They slurred pointless responses, saying, ‘Si, si, amigo, I agree, just so, that is the way it is,’ even when their heads were on the bar and Misael was amusing himself by saying, ‘You are an hijo de puta, your mouth is vertical like a woman’s chucha, your mother bore you by a pig, your culo has known a thousand pricks, your mother’s milk was rat’s piss, your cojones are smaller than raisins,’ and everyone in the bar was laughing overtly at the humiliation of the slickers, even the whores, who were happy to take a break for a while from all the kissing and cuddling.
    And then Misael produced two pitillos. They were no ordinary pitillos, but were thick as a millionaire’s Havana, and full of the best smoking marijuana. They were the kind of pitillo that one smokes in bed with one’s lover before making love somewhere in the outer spaces of reality, the kind of pitillo that is the ultimate, one true Platonic Idea of a pitillo. Misael gave them to the slickers, and Hectoro made them smoke them down to the stub until the whole brothel smelled aromatic and the victims were giggling every time they fell over, and demanding more drink every time they vomited.
    Hectoro and Misael dragged them to their helicopter as night was falling in, and heaved them into it. They slapped their faces and pinched their thighs until the machine was started and warmed up, and then they watched it depart at a crazy speed in the wrong direction.
    The machine was discovered a few days later high up in the snows of the sierra. The Indians who found it came from the village of Chachi. The two slickers were frozen solid, and it gave the cholos the idea of keeping meat in it instead of burying it in the snow and marking it with a stake. The two gangsters remained frozen forever to their seats, having been appointed by the cholos to be the perpetual spirit guardians of the metal meatbox that had been vouchsafed to them through the beneficent dispensations of Viracocha.

9
Knives
    ‘OK CHICOS,’ SAID El Jerarca, ‘you have the picture? I want it to look like a perfectly ordinary theft that became a little violent, you understand? Make sure you take his money and anything else valuable, OK? And as far as I am concerned, what you take you keep. And when you have done the job you both get your little ganancias, and you both get your new motorcycle, and maybe then I will promote you and you will both be sicarios, OK? And then I will give you both a magnum that can blow the balls from an elephant, OK?’
    Dionisio and Anica were walking hand in hand through the streets, taking a little paseo before meeting Ramon for a drink. The two assassins were following ten metres behind, their hands going nervously to the concealed hilts of their knives, and they were talking in subdued tones.
    ‘What if he resists?’ said one.
    ‘Mierda,’ said the other, ‘you can see he is fat, so he is probably slow as well. We just spill his guts and run for it.’
    ‘We will rob the girl as well?’
    ‘Well, why not? Maybe she has her pocket money with her. She has a fine ring.’
    ‘El Jerarca said not to harm her, though.’
    ‘He did not say not to rob her.’ He winked, and the other nodded and smiled his assent.
    Anica was feeling very relaxed and happy, and she