Texas Trilogy: 1. The Legacy

By Lee Gabor

Alberto Garcia, the cartel's top capo in the United States, is flamboyant and extravagant. When his behavior attracts the attention of the Drug Enforcement Agency, Berto becomes dispensable and dies in a violent street murder in Dallas, headquarters for his topless bar businesses in Texas through which he distributes drugs to cities and towns around the country. Alberto's Uncle Ernesto has a replacement in mind to assume power. His actions are thwarted when Alberto's legacy falls to his daughter, the strong and determined Victoria. She will take over the topless bar businesses and continue the drug trafficking. Her inheritance enrages her younger brother, who, knowing nothing of his dad's drug activities, contacts a different Mexican cartel in order to set up his own downline distribution network. Victoria must learn how to operate a topless bar and a drug business. There to help her is Alberto's manager for many years, Rocko Valdez. Unfortunately, Rocko is caught in a cat-and-mouse game of violence with his old nemesis, the menacing El Limpiador The Cleaner, recently released from prison in California and well known for his many murders. When Victoria learns who ordered the hit on her father, she vows revenge. The language is harsh and the violence is brutal. But this is simply standard behavior in the ugly world of drug trafficking in the United States.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lee Gabor
• Release date: Nov 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301279555

Lee Gabor

I am first and foremost inquisitive, always wanting to know what goes on globally and locally and wanting to understand WHY! Being a newspaper reporter was the career with which I began. Then, as a pianist and vocalist, I spent a number of years entertaining throughout the U.S. I also owned a talent agency during that time. After those 25 years, my next career was in public education, which was something I never intended to do. Getting "drafted" into teaching and the time I spent as an Academic Coordinator were very interesting and I do so love the students and teachers, administrators, and staff members I met. I'm very proud of our students. After six years, I left teaching and moved near my son and his family. I became a Master Gardener and Master Composter, joined local organizations, and have been able to enjoy more time with my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. I am thrilled that my professional focus now is limited to writing. I will be publishing both fiction and non-fiction works and begin that in new venture in 2012.

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Dedication

This book is dedicated to my son, Rocky Carlson, and family friend, Johnny B.

*****

Introduction

The United Nations estimates the illegal drug trade worldwide is over 300 billion dollars annually. Of that, the illicit drug trade in the United States is said to be as high as 50 billion dollars each year.

The border between the U.S. and Mexico is 1,969 miles long and is the most frequently traveled international border in the world with about 350 million authorized crossings each year at the 16 official ports of entry. We can only speculate as to the unlawful crossings.

The Texas-Mexico border, bounded by the Rio Grand River, stretches 1,254 miles. It is said to be among the locations most utilized by the cartels for smuggling into the U.S. their cargos of Columbian cocaine, heroin, methamphetamines, marijuana of all grades, and other illegal drugs.

Dallas, Texas, the largest financial center in the Southwest, is a major hub for warehousing and distributing these drugs to the streets of cities and towns where they cause heartaches, family breakups, premature deaths, job losses, financial devastations, illnesses, and, of course, violence.

*****

Chapter 1

The July 1st night is hot and dark in the downtown Dallas alley. Standing in the shadow of an office building, El Limpiador, known as The Cleaner, lifts a cigarette to his lips and draws the dangerous nicotine into his lungs. The red glow of the cylinder's end is not observed by anyone. Sweat is too frightened of him to appear in the heat.

He watches his 34-year-old brother and three Mexicans in Raphael's gang finish the last few seconds of a gunfight with two teenage shooters. Three teenagers and two of the crew lay dead on the blacktop and will be discovered soon by Dallas Police called by a homeless person with a cell phone.

The two teen boys stop shooting and take off running, leaving Raphael and his three remaining crew members as the victors.

Get on back to the car, Raphael's orders his men. Carrying their weapons, they begin walking the alley toward their vehicle parked near the street. The trunk of the car is open to display kilos of cocaine, the bricks wrapped in red paper with no graphic.

Raphael had thought he was exchanging the goods for stacks of money from adult gangbangers who would cut the coke and sell it to make their own profit. He had been shocked to see the alleged buyers were teens who had no money and had planned to rob him of the drugs.

Raphael worries that his upline will learn the truth. It's a big mistake in a career that doesn't allow mistakes.

Raphael walks toward his two dead crew members and stands a moment to look at them, their blood oozing onto the blacktop amid strewn papers and trash. He brushes away flies that have flown from the nearby trash container to accost him and thinks it's too bad bullets from the automatic weapon in his hand aren't fast enough to kill the little black pests.

He grimaces. As he turns to walk to the car, he hears his nickname.

Rafa, the low gravelly voice of El Limpiador explodes.

Raphael spins toward the voice, instinctively lifting and pointing his automatic weapon. Recognizing the man, he lowers the gun and walks toward him, stopping about five feet from the speaker and announcing, Ain't heard that in years and I don't let nobody call me Rafa. What the fuck you doin' here?

Watchin' out for my little bro.

Don't need you spyin' on me.

El Limpiador snaps, Yeah, you do. Look at this mess. You're the leader of an important crew and you're blastin' kids.

"Fuckin' kids thought they could rob my inventory. Won't be trying that again with me.

That you even took on this sale says you ain't got things under control.

Well, Asshole, it's my crew, none of your biz, and we're doin' fine. You had your chance!

Before I got sent up, it was mine and we did things the right way. You've fucked up before.

What makes you say that? You ain't been around to know shit!

"Scars tell me. That shirt you're wearing ain't hiding 'em.

They listen quietly as an 18-wheel big rig rolls along the street. Finally, Rafael snaps, You can't help it, can you? Always got to be smarter and more competent.

That's what big brothers are for. Teach the younger ones.

Raphael snarls, I don't want a teacher. Already said that. So Whadda ya want here?

You're my only family. I wanna help, show you the ropes. And I wanna see my nephew when he's born.

"I'm old enough now. I don't need or want your help anymore. I needed my big brother back then, but you had to fuck everything up.

I paid my dues for that, Rafa. You know that!

To the State of California. Not to me.

I'm here to pay you back now.

It's way too late for that.

It's never too late to pay a debt. You're all I got left and that baby's coming. He's the only shred of decency you or me will ever see.

Stay away from Marie. She told me you called. Look, Bro, you was doing great, but you never could listen to nobody. Shit man, you did over 60 contracts, never got caught.

Wasn't luck.

I warned you about going to LA.

Everybody makes a mistake sometime. And nobody caught me for that job.

Would 'uv been smart to come home right after.

Didn't expect I'd run into...you know! That motherfucker was stupid. Should'uv stayed hidin' in Mexico.

No. You should'uv let it go. I did a long time ago.

"I don't know how you could let it go. It wasn't even me he messed with and I can't forget. I hate sicko pervert child molesters and what they do. You, of all people, know why!

Was it worth the twenty fuckin' years they gave you for icin' him?

Without raising his voice or showing any emotion, the big man says, Yeah. It was worth it. It was worth seein' the fear in his eyes, hearing his screams when I cut off his dick, watchin' him cry and beg for his life. It was worth every minute of it. And it was worth watchin' his blood flow all over the street. And in the joint, it was worth every minute of being there for what we did to the sickos that got sent up!

Raphael counters with, Don't act like you're so smart. You killed the motherfucker during the day on a public street so people could see. That was stupid, man.

Naw. It gave a message to all the cocksucking molesters out there that day. And I'd do it again. Anyway, early release in 15 and I'm back for good now.

Well, that ain't jack shit to me and I don't need you anymore. Get that through your thick skull.

Little bro, from what I just saw, I say you do.

Their heads quickly turn at the sound of police sirens. Raphael does a 180-degree spin when he hears Gabe in his crew yelling, Come on, Raphael, let's go. Cops are on their way.

Raphael silently stares a moment, then turns back to his brother who is quietly says, Rafa, I left my number with your wife. I'll be around.....watchin'.

Fuck off, Raphael yells as he turns and hustles toward the car. He doesn't see his brother seem to evaporate from the alley.

*****

Chapter 2

On July 20th the sun has barely risen over the Dallas skyline and already it's heating the terra cotta roof tiles on the Garcia mansion. Forty-year-old Teresa Garcia sits at the long damask covered table in the formal dining room. She delicately grasps the glass of orange juice and slowly brings it to her lips, takes a small sip, sets down the glass, and lifts a linen napkin to the corners of her mouth.

Her exquisitely polished thumb and index fingers press the handle of the Flora Danica fine bona china cup from England's Royal Copenhagen Company and lifts the fluted cup to her lips. She imbibes the smallest sip of coffee.

Every move of the thin and elegant woman is slow and meticulous.

Her left hand reaches to the nape of her neck to ensure each strand of hair is tucked perfectly into the chignon. She slowly adjusts the left strap of the expensive crimson workout top she wears. Her lipstick perfectly matches the color of the silk.

I'm off, Mom, daughter Victoria announces as she walks into the large room. The 28-year-old dark beauty opens her large handbag to drop in a bottle of water.

You know I don't like you wearing that color! Teresa whispers.

Mom, I love dove gray.

It's too dull for your coloring, Victoria.

It's fine, Mom. And I'm too old for you to still be telling me how to dress.

You'll learn someday that a mother's job is never done. And you should at least eat breakfast!

No thanks. I'm saving calories for lunch.

You should at least eat a bite of eggs and a piece of toast. You'll stay thinner by eating small meals throughout the day. Trying to save calories by skipping meals is only going to make you more hungry and that will lead to a fat body someday.

If I didn't work out, maybe. Anyway, it's my body and I don't intend to gain weight. I haven't yet, have I? And I'm just not hungry right now.

Teresa ignored her daughter's question and asked, What do you have planned today?

Lots. After Mass, I'm going to help Father Manuel with the accounts.

Teresa interjects, He'll appreciate that. Finances are not his strong suit. You'd think The Church would give priests more training in finance and accounting.

You'd think The Church could get over having only men at the top of the hierarchy and past the idea of no birth control for women. Those ideas are relics.

Victoria, I don't want to hear any criticism. Father Manual and the nuns helped me out greatly years ago and, if it hadn't been for The Church, my life would have been much different. She failed to add, although she wanted to, Yours would have been, too.

Okay. But you're always expecting me to have no opinions about anything. I wish you could just accept that I keep up with current events, what's going on in the world, and I think about things. I'm not an 'ignorance is bliss' type of person.

Victoria didn't notice her mother's lips firm just a millimeter at the innuendo the matriarch of the family is blissfully ignorant.

Anyway, after I help the Father, some of us are delivering food to the homeless shelters and then I'm working on the church's food bank inventory.

Will you be home for lunch?

No. At 11, Juan's picking me up at St. Mary's and we're going to the World Aquarium and then to an expensive restaurant for, he says, something special.

It's about time you pay attention to him. Between your charity activities and graduate school, and thank God that's finished, you've put that young man on the shelf for years.

He's been okay with our relationship. When he wasn't studying, he restored classic cars. Now he's busy with the dealership.

Victoria, all this delay has upset your dad and me. I'm calling Father Manuel today to set an appointment for us.

What for? I hope you aren't still trying to push me again into getting married soon. I'm going to, but when I decide the time is right.

If we don't book the church soon, it will be a year before there's an opening. You've finished that final college degree. You have no excuse now for not getting married.

Victoria clenches her jaw and looks at her watch.

Mom, I know you mean well, but it's my life. I'll say when I'm ready.

Ignoring the