The Dogs of Mexico Read Online Free PDF Page B

Costco and Home Depot. There’s a McDonald’s and a Walmart on every corner. Besides, you never had an assignment yet that didn’t have a few rough edges.”
    “Assignment? You’re calling this an assignment?”  
    Fowler took a manila folder from the satchel and unwrapped the string from around the two button-tabs. “Superior Seacraft. Right here in Miami.” He removed a DVD disk in a customized jewel case. “PowerPoint pitch to the client. I had that made up professionally. Tools of the trade. You’re an ace salesman, nothing if not prepared.”
    “If it’s all that easy, why don’t you do it yourself? Save yourself a big cut?”
    Fowler observed him, cool again. “What I’m doing is offering you an opportunity. I can’t believe you’re not jumping at it.”
    “Oh, I can see why you thought of me all right. I’m off the books and there’s a warrant out for my arrest in Texas. I get caught, it’s nothing to you. Just another ex crossed over. A mental case no less.”
    Fowler grinned a little. “Well, that’s colder than I would’ve put it. Thing is, I know you’re reliable, and you can use the money.” Fowler glanced around the room, a dismissive gesture with both hands. “I mean, look at this dump. You want to go on like this forever? Listen, we’re not kids anymore. This may be our last chance at the brass ring.”  
    Robert shot a derisive nod at the projector. “This the latest from OTS?”
    Fowler wasn’t amused. “Simplicity, Bohnert. That’s the beauty of it.” He took a second envelope from the case. “New passport, credit card and a Miami driver’s license along with an inter-American duplicate. There’s four thousand dollars cash money in there. Buy yourself some decent threads. Our people dress for success. Tastefully conservative. And don’t forget, boat shoes. Topsiders.”
    “Hell, I could wade across the Rio Grande with that canister in a backpack.”
    “Maybe you could and maybe you couldn’t. This isn’t Poncho Villa’s Rio Grande. It isn’t worth chancing. Not for this kind of money.”
    Robert considered it. True, the Secure Border Initiative with their fences, cameras, ATVs and helicopters with night vision had slowed illegal crossings to a trickle. Even so, many still made it. But it was also true that in addition to the Border Patrol, illegals and coyotes alike would be suspicious of a gringo alone, sneaking a backpack into the US.  
    Robert looked at the new passport. A three-year-old photo. He kinked one eyebrow at Fowler. “Otis Tandy Baker?”
    Fowler grinned. “A whole new identity.”
    How about non-identity, easily disposed of.  
    Even so, Robert determined to go for it. For here was a chance to rectify his failures and in some obscure way he wasn’t quite clear on, absolve himself of guilt. More, it was a chance to get even with Fowler for denying him the leave that had cost him everything. He would go along with Fowler, then take the diamonds and skip when the opportunity presented itself. Make sure Fowler knew why. See then how self-satisfied he was.  
    Robert was going to do it, but in that moment of decision he felt fundamentally altered in some way; a grainy flood of something darkly unpleasant washed through his entire being.  
    Fowler studied him, a frown of suspicious disapproval. “What’s wrong with you?”
    Robert eyed him in turn, his furious lust for revenge barely restrained beneath a facade of good-old-boy joshing. “You really want to know? I was thinking I might just kick your sorry ass anyway, coming in here like this, assuming you can browbeat me into playing your fall guy.”  
    Fowler actually appeared to relax a little. “Hey, nice to see you too, Bohnert! C’mon. Get your shower on. Suit up and I’ll take you to dinner.”
    It was a fine line, maintaining your balance while going for the gold with a guy like Fowler. The foreboding he felt might be simple resentment over Fowler’s dictatorial attitude—resentment