A Shark in Calle Ocho by Joe Curtis Page A

loading your product as soon as I see the payment.”
    Hector smiled and motioned to Mary Catherine to put the suitcase on the desk. She obeyed. From the disease of greed, Ayize’s eyes widened as he clutched the case.
    He opened it and said, “Yes, nice.” He caressed the money. “Start loading,” he said to Berko.
    A few men started loading the precious cargo in the truck. Hector stopped them, picked out a box and ordered them to open it. Inside he saw African ceremonial masks staring back at him. He picked one up, examining the large eyes with white circles around them. The mouth was open grotesquely and rounded at the corners. The blond straw hair was sticking straight up.
    “This is an African fertilization mask, although it is quite more valuable than the ones you find on the streets,” Ayize said, walking up beside Hector and turning it over to reveal a brown plastic package. Ayize took and opened the package into the open hands of Hector. The diamonds’ allure put Hector into a wide-eyed trance. “Many people have lost their lands hunting these sparkling rocks.” Ayize’s remark broke the trance.
    “Maybe not today,” Hector said, putting the diamonds back into the case with the mask. “Let’s go. You staying here or coming with us, woman?”
    Mary Catherine did not answer the Latino—she just walked past him and got into the truck.
    “Berko will take you back to the airport,” Ayize said, holding on to the suitcase. “Have a safe trip.” Neither Hector nor the associates responded. All were very suspicious of the unfamiliar surroundings and their chauffeur.
    Back on the bumpy road, Berko gave the travelers a history lesson.
    “Port Nolloth was built from the copper mines. We are a very strong and proud people who live in this land. We are survivors. When the copper and ore began to run out the gods smiled down upon us and gave us these wonderful diamonds. My people are now wealthier than they have ever been.” He paused, gave Mary Catherine and Hector a long stare and added, “If they play their cards right.”
    “Do you have a good hand?” Mary Catherine asked.
    “Oh, yes—a very good hand,” Berko said, setting off alarms in Mary Catherine’s mind.
    Berko swerved to miss a silver 2008 BMW 3 Series sedan. As it passed, Mary Catherine strained to see inside the dark tinted windows and spotted two other silver BMWs speeding toward them. She turned to Hector in the back seat, but before she could get a word out, Berko slammed on the brake and turned the wheel sharply, sending the passengers flying. Mary Catherine received the worst of it, slamming her head into the windshield and knocking her unconscious.
    Berko ripped out a semiautomatic and screamed to Hector and his men, “Get out of the truck. You will die. Get out of the truck. You will die.” They had no choice but to follow the deadly directions. Hector cursed under his breath. His men, hardened by drug wars, kept their cool. Hector motioned to wait for the right moment. Seeing Ayize and his subordinates getting out of the cars, Berko jumped out of the truck and started pushing the men.
    “Throw your guns down on the ground,” Ayize commanded, spitting in Hector’s face. “You Americans with your Hollywood movies and your flashy women think you can come into our country and take whatever you want.”
    As if he were a drill sergeant conducting an inspection, he barked, “Who do you think you are? The cavalry?” His eight henchmen roared with laughter, and some fired their weapons in the air. On a roll before his captive audience, Ayize returned to Hector and added, “You are looking at a real cowboy. What is my name?” He put his Uzi to his head and thought. “Billy the Kid,” he proclaimed, putting the Uzi to Hector’s head now. “Yeah, that’s right! I’m Billy the Kid!” As he started to strut, he was startled by an interruption.
    “Where’s your hat then?” Mary Catherine said, gingerly getting out of the truck