Chapter 32: Late 1986, Conrad's Empire Grows

The city of Zitacuaro sits on the edge of Mexico's Tierra Caliente, an oven-like expanse of lime orchards and agave spikes. Sammy Pardo drove and Conrad sat alongside him, holding the map and acting as navigator.

"Don't worry, Sammy, we'll find the place."

"Christ, Conrad, this place is at the end of the world."

"Exactly why they can operate the way they do. Man's taking over the government's what I heard; makes it easier for us all around."

"Conrad, we could'a done a deal with them guys in Columbia. Would you mind telling me why you passed?"

"Sure. They want too much for the product. It's that simple. Later on, maybe they get more reasonable."

Sammy nodded and swerved to miss a huge pothole. The highway was anything but smooth.

"Funny thing," Conrad said, "these guys started as vigilantes. They were anti-crime, but push came to shove they learned trafficking in drugs was even more beneficial to them then stopping crime."

"Sounds like if you can't beat 'em, join 'em," Sammy laughed, then lit a cigarette.

"Been a lot of killing in these parts. Don't shoot your mouth off. Follow my lead. All we want is a price. Way I heard it they'll sell it on the cheap, cause it costs them next to nothing to grow and process."

"You know best, boss," Sammy said as he slowed to read a road sign. "Hey, there it is. Says 30 kilometers. How many miles is that?"

"Damned if I know. Maybe a little more than 30 miles."

Cesar Larios, the leader of the cartel, was standing in the doorway waiting to greet them personally. Up to this point they had 'talked' through intermediaries. They did have one thing in common. Larios had product to sell and Conrad Gentner had to buy product to satisfy his European partners.

The two men shook hands. Gentner noticed that Sammy was all but ignored by Larios, and accepted it without comment. Larios offered Conrad a Cuban cigar, which he accepted. Larios then lit Gentner's cigar and then his own, blowing the blue smoke into the air and watching swirl through the breeze created by the air-conditioner. "Nothing like these Cuban cigars, eh, Mr. Gentner?"

"No, I can't say there is. It's a really fine cigar, Mr. Larios."

Standing off to one side was a rail thin youth, perhaps twenty years of age. Both Conrad and Sammy knew a hit man or stone killer when they saw one, and this boy whose name they learned was Nazario Moreno had already garnered a big reputation by posing as a supermarket bag boy who carried his intended victim's groceries out to the parking lot to get close enough for a head shot.

Larios wasted no time at all in showing Gentner and Pardo his cocaine. Pardo opened his briefcase and withdrew a test kit and began a series of tests to determine the quality of the drug.

Larios left them alone, and midway through the tests Sammy whispered to Gentner, telling him the product was testing out at 96% pure, a phenomenal level. This cocaine could be cut several times before being added to the heroin, meaning the overall profit was at least double that expected. Added to that, Larios' asking price was more than reasonable.

When Larios and his men returned, Conrad stood up and walked over to him and took his hand. "Senior Larios, it is indeed a pleasure doing business with you. Now if we can clear up one minor problem I will be asking you to provide an equal amount each month, except for December, when I want to double the size of the order."

"And what is this minor problem, Mr. Gentner?"

"Can you assist me in getting the coke out of Mexico?"

"Where would you want it to go?"

"I'd prefer Italy, Genoa preferably, but if you have another option it's alright with me."

"Genoa..." Larios said quietly, and nodded to himself, "And your second choice, Mr. Gentner?"

"The States. Texas, Louisiana, California or Florida would be fine. But Italy is where it's going to wind up."

"Hmmm, let me think about this a moment, Mr. Gentner."

Nazario Moreno, who had been leaning against the wall, came alert at his words; a machete was on the table just to his left. Pardo and Gentner knew this might result in their being killed by having their heads cut off. Beheading was becoming a signature from this cartel. The former Mayor had met such a fate. His successor was Larios' cousin.

"Well, Mr. Gentner, we can deliver the product to Genoa. But I'm afraid it will cost another 15% over the cost of the cocaine."

Conrad quickly did the math and saw that he was getting a good deal. He nodded, and said, "I can live with that," hoping his words would prove prophetic, and that he would walk out of the cartel head intact.

"Good!" Larios boomed, "Let us celebrate our business dealing with a few drinks and dinner."

Conrad found the food to be surprisingly good, and had several more drinks. Eventually, Larios sat down next to him. "We talk some more, eh?"

"Of course," Gentner replied.

"You work for, or with, Klass Bruinsma, is that not right?"

"Mr. Larios, you are remarkably well informed. I supply him with roughly half the cocaine he needs."

"I could easily do that myself, Mr. Gentner. Perhaps you can tell me why I shouldn't."

Conrad felt a chill run up his spine, but forced a smile and said, "Because, after they mix it with the heroin, three quarters of the finished product is sent to my sources in the United States and sold on the streets."

Larios nodded thoughtfully, and Conrad added, "I don't mean to offend you Mr. Larios, but I don't think you can do that. At least not for the foreseeable future."

Larios laughed and slapped Gentner on the shoulder. "I like you, Mr. Gentner. You have the right answers to my questions. We will do business together, and both of us will profit greatly."

"That's exactly the way I see it, Mr. Larios."

"Tell me, Mr. Gentner, do you prefer blondes or brunettes?"

"If you're offering me a woman for the night, I must tell you I have no preference. I am certain that any woman provided me will be most enjoyable, and a memorable experience."