Page 162 of The Fourth Option
Kimbel hesitated.
“You’ll let me live?”
“Depends on your answers.”
“Did you give Dupuis and Gormley the same option?”
Walker remained silent, unholstering his Staccato.
“You can take solace in the fact that you really don’t have a choice.”
“Fuck! Okay, okay, just don’t fucking kill me. Nectar’s a partner. A sugar company. We combine certain pharma shipments coming up from Central America.”
Walker stepped closer, boots crunching on damp leaves. “I saw the pallets. I saw the codes and have the manifests. Don’t lie to me.”
“There’s more to it.”
Walker stepped in so that his face was just inches from Kimbel’s. “Tell me. Or you’ll die right here.”
Kimbel hesitated. “We have a deal, right? I tell you, and I live. Like a protected witness.”
“Just like that.”
“I can help you take these people down. I’m only a manager. You want the higher-ups, not me.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Kimbel cleared his throat. “I’m dying here. Can I get some water?”
“No.”
The executive swallowed and went on. “Nectar’s been around forever. It’s owned by a man named Fulgencio Vargas, but people call him Cuchillo. It’s a legit company with a major sugar refinery downriver.”
“What about them?”
“They bring product in via ship. It offloads at Dorado. They offload our product, separate it from the sugar.”
“By product you mean Snowball?”
A nod. “Pills from his factories down south.”
“Who moves it at Dorado?”
“Cops.”
“Their names?”
“Detective Gormley heads up that part of the operation.”
“Not anymore.”
“Fuck.”
“What about Bates?”
“Bates, I never should have listened to that guy.”
“Why?”
