Jack Hardcock: The Wrath of God (Part VII)

“I didn’t know there were jungles around Juarez,” Jack said as he swatted away mosquitoes.

“Si Senor,” responded Jose. “Mexico is nothing but jungle.”

The darkness of night provided the perfect cover for Jack and Jose, along with their motley crew of biker vigilantes. The gang passed around a bottle of tequila as they watched and waited several hundred yards away from the cartel’s compound. “Are you sure my father is being held here?” Jack asked Jose.

“Sí. We’ve been watching this place for several days.”

“I know Pablo Santora is behind this,” Jack added. “I can’t wait to get my hands on him.”

One of the bikers whispered over to Jose. “no reconozco a esta persona,” Jack heard.

Jose gazed through the binoculars towards the compound. “Jack, come here,” Jose said, “do you recognize this woman?”

Jack took the binoculars and scratched his head. “I don’t know who that is,” he replied, “but goddamn she’s tall.” He continued watching this mysterious woman through the window as she handed a large metal briefcase to none other than Pablo Santora. “I knew it!” Jack uttered to himself. The exchange lasted no more than a few minutes before the woman departed in a stretched limousine.

“Now’s a good time to launch the attack,” Jose said. Jack nodded and readied his .38. “Let’s go,” he declared.

The group marched through the muggy jungle until they were right on the perimeter. Without hesitation, a biker launched a flare into the air while another unleashed hell with a 50 cal. Suddenly the compound was lit up with explosions and tracer rounds.

“This is a little much, wouldn’t you say?” Jack shouted to Jose. Then the watchtower exploded from an RPG. Shattered glass and smoldering debris fell onto the men below. “I think it’s the right amount,” Jose retorted.

With the compound covered in fire like it’s the coming apocalypse, the gang marched through the gates and fired on anything that moved. Jack kicked open every door and looked under every pile of rubble looking for his father. Jose found a critically injured member of the cartel whose skin was smoldering and guts splayed out over the ground.

“Donde esta Rod Hardcock?!” Jose shouted to the dying man. But all the poor bastard could utter was “agua…agua.” So Jose emptied his .45 into him.

“No luck so far,” Jose told Jack. Then one of the bikers shouted “lo encontré!” Jack rushed to the portly biker and beside him was a tipped over porter john. And inside the porter john was a shit-caked Rod Hardcock.

“Jack, goddamn you, why did you come?!” Senor Hardcock told his son.

“Don’t worry Dad, I’m gonna make Pablo pay for this!”

Jose inquisitively look around him. “Has anyone found Pablo?”

Suddenly Hueys began whooshing overhead. Before Jack could react, he felt a bullet cut clean through his abdomen.

TO BE CONTINUED….

Jack Hardcock: The Wrath of God (Part VI)

“How many times do I have to explain to you,” Jack stated while blindfolded and strapped to a chair, “I don’t understand the gibberish you are saying. I’m an American. And as an American, it is my goddamn right to only speak English. So you better get to speaking my language or you will be facing the wrath of God which won’t be seen again until the final days.”

Jack heard a loud guffaw then his blindfold was lifted. Before him stood an old, scarred up gentleman covered in tattoos. His teeth were rotted out and his breath reeked of tequila. “I am Jose Altuve and in this country we speak Spanish,” the man said.

Jack looked around and noticed a ragtag gang of Mexican bikers. Then he spat on the ground. “So what do you want from me?” Jack asked, “Are you the cartel?”

Following Jack’s lead, Jose and his gang all spat on the ground. “We are no cartel,” Jose ominously declared.

“Then why the abduction? What do you want with me?”

Jose ordered Jack to be cut free. The old tattered man then opened a bottle of tequila, took a swig and handed it to Jack. “The cartel runs this town,” Jose explained. “They killed my family. They’ve killed everyone I loved. The Federales do nothing! We are ones that stand in their way.”

“Cool story bro,” Jack said, “but what does that have to do with me? I’m in Juárez for one reason and one reason only: to rescue my father from this godforsaken place.”

“I know,” Jose said. Then he picked up an M16 and placed it in Jack’s lap. “We’re going to help you.”

Jack glanced at the weapon and looked back at Jose. “Why?” he asked.

“Because Rod Hardcock was one of us.”

Jack was shocked. “But…but how could that be?” he asked, “my father is a mule! I thought he worked with the cartel!”

Jose laughed. “That’s what he wanted you to believe,” he explained, “he wanted to keep you out of danger. If you believed that he worked with the cartel, Senior Hardcock thought you would stay away from here.”

“My father thought wrong. I can never escape danger. He should have told me this a long time ago!”

Jose popped a magazine into an M16 then placed a Desert Eagle and a Bowie knife under his belt. “Thank the Heavenly Father for sending you here,” he said, “because we’re hitting the cartel tonight. You’re one of us.”

Jack took a big gulp from the tequila bottle and picked up an M16. “Hand me my .38,” he ordered, “and do you guys have AKs? These things are pieces of shit.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Jack Hardcock: The Wrath of God (Part V)

Pablo Santora pushed a shot glass across the bar. Jack picked up the glass and took one look at the liquid. “Tequila is piss water,” Jack said, “fortunately I like piss.”

After he swallowed the drink, Jack asked for another. Pablo laughed as he unscrewed the bottle. “I know why you’re in Juarez, Jack,” he said.

“Why am I in Juarez, Pablo?”

Pablo poured the tequila and leaned forward. “The cartel the coming for you,” he warned, “you’re gonna need more than a gun that’s smaller than your dick.”

Jack reached for his .38 special and grabbed Pablo by the shirt. “How would YOU know how big my dick is?” he asked, “I know you are with the cartel. So give them a message for me: release my father or I’m coming for ALL OF YOU!”

“Estas loco Jack!” Pablo yelled.

Maria quickly broke up the fight. “Come to your senses Jack!” she pleaded. Jack released Pablo and placed .38 back in its holster. “I stopped by La Casa de La Muerte to deliver that message,” he said, “I’ll be back in a few days to see if that message was received.”

Jack straitened himself out and walked out the front doors. Maria rushed out after him. “I’m so sorry Jack,” she said, “but I couldn’t wait on you forever!”

Jack stopped in his tracks. “But why Pablo?” he asked.

She said nothing.

“What Pablo wants, Pablo gets,” Jack said, “and if it’s death he wants, then I’m happy to deliver.”

Jack walked away and a few blocks later he was kidnapped by some desperados in a pedo van.

TO BE CONTINUED..