Chapter 11 #3
He shook his head, a flicker of caution crossing his face, as if he had almost revealed too much. “Nothing. Boss is making a few changes… starting with you.”
Marcos turned behind him and snagged a phone along with a couple of other items, placing them decisively on the table between us.
He picked up the phone first and handed it to me. “Keep this on you and charged at all times. This is your new lifeline. Lose this phone, and you might as well start writing your goodbye speech.”
I nodded, examining the phone.
“In most cases, these phones are used for runners to report in and out, check their route… things like that,” he continued.
“But again… boss is switching things up a little. So since you’ll have a schedule, that route won’t apply to you; you’ll basically just be checking in and out.
As a matter of fact, that one will strictly be for communication between me and you.
So if you saved my number in your personal phone… delete it.”
I nodded slowly.
“Next,” he moved on with a sense of urgency, sliding a small, unmarked device across the table.
I picked it up and turned it over in my hand. “What is this?”
“It’s a camera,” he replied, a slight glint in his eyes.
I blinked in surprise. “A camera?”
“A very expensive camera,” he clarified. “Small, discreet, but powerful as hell. That little thing can see inside a vehicle better than your own eyes. Sound, movement, everything.”
A knot formed in my stomach, a sense of dread creeping in.
“You’ll keep it with you during every run and clip it to the sun visor so we get a clear view,” he explained matter-of-factly.
“So you’ll be watching me the whole time?” I asked, trying to mask my rising anxiety.
“We’ll be watching you—me and boss—especially these first few runs.”
That revelation did nothing to ease my tension; in fact, it amplified it, making my heart race.
“If we see we can trust you, we’ll ease back… a little,” he continued, attempting to provide some reassurance. “But the camera stays on regardless. It records everything, so if something goes wrong, we can rewind and see exactly what happened.”
Great… a stranger watching me drive around like I’m in some twisted reality show called Cartel Uber.
Marcos studied me, gauging my reaction, then reached under the table again. "Last thing.”
He pulled out a small black case and slid it across the table toward me with an unsettling calm.
I stared at it, unsure of what to expect.
“Open it,” Marcos instructed.
I hesitated momentarily, heart pounding in my chest, before flipping the latches.
Inside was a gun, glinting ominously under the overhead light.
I immediately looked up at him, shock etched across my features. “A gun?” I shrilled, my voice leaping an octave before I could rein it in. “W-What do I need this for?”
Marcos leaned back calmly, like he had just handed me a set of car keys, and replied, “Protection.”
“Protection from what? Is this job that dangerous?”
For the first time since I’d met him, Marcos didn’t dodge the truth. “It can be.”
Marcos must’ve seen the shift in my face because his voice softened just a little.
“Relax. You’re not going to war. Nobody’s sending you into chaos. You’re working with people who understand risks. Rest assured that routes are planned carefully. We watch everything. So if something even looks off, we shut it down before it becomes a problem.”
He reached over and patted my shoulder reassuringly. “You won’t be out there alone the way you think you will. But out here? Being prepared keeps people alive.”
That wasn’t exactly comforting, but it was honest. And for some reason, honesty made it easier to accept.
I nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Marcos studied me for a moment, almost impressed. “Good… because panicking ain’t useful in this line of work.”
I folded my arms slightly, still staring at the weapon.
“Still,” he added, his tone firm now. “You carry it.”
“I’ve never shot a gun before, though,” I admitted, a tinge of embarrassment creeping into my voice.
“That’s fine,” Marcos replied calmly. “Hopefully, you never have to.” He snapped the case shut decisively. “But hope ain’t a plan.”
I hesitated for a second before the question finally slipped out.
“So… when exactly will I know what I’m transporting?
Or will I ever know?” I asked, studying his face for any tell-tale sign of the truth.
“Because right now I’m just guessing. Drugs?
Money? Something illegal, obviously. It’s too secretive for it not to be.
” I exhaled. “I’m not asking so I can go run my mouth.
I just want to know what kind of situation I’m walking into. ”
Marcos rubbed the side of his nose, a thoughtful gesture before stepping closer to me. Not threatening exactly, but close enough to reinforce the boundaries of this world I was stepping into.
“You ever heard the phrase, ‘If I tell you, I’d have to kill you?’”
I nodded slowly.
“Yeah… that applies right here.”
My stomach twisted uncomfortably.
“It’s not personal, Ajori, it’s just business. I don’t know you well enough to trust you with details like that… not yet.”
“So I’m just supposed to drive blind?”
“For now,” he said with a small shrug, his expression unreadable. “Eventually, when the time’s right, you’ll know what you need to know.”
His eyes hardened just a little.
“Until then, treat it like any other drive. You do that, Ajori, and we’ll get along just fine.”
That job was starting to feel a lot bigger than I originally thought.
Marcos tapped the gun case. “Just like that phone, guard this motherfucker like it’s your social security number and your last dollar.”
I exhaled slowly.
Marcos leaned forward, and the shift in his tone made the room feel colder. “Now listen carefully, Ajori.” His eyes locked on mine. “If you fuck up, you’re done… and I don’t mean fired. This isn’t a nine-to-five job. You mess up, you don’t just lose employment, you lose everything.”
Every nerve in my body tightened.
Inside, my brain was yelling What the hell did you sign up for? But my face stayed calm.
Marcos sat back again. “Just follow instructions exactly. You drive from point A to point B exactly how you’re told.
Keep your head straight, keep your mouth shut, no questions, no sightseeing, no detours, and don’t go digging where you weren’t invited.
Look at the bright side, if this works out the way I think it will, you’re about to make more money than you ever have in your life. ”
And for the first time since I walked in that warehouse… I believed him.
I took a breath and nodded.
He tapped the table once. “Anything else you want to ask before you get on the road? No question is a dumb question.”
“I have two questions, actually. First, how many runs will I have to do in a week? Just curious.”
“No more than four,” he answered immediately.
“Boss doesn’t like drivers burning themselves out.
A driver who’s exhausted starts missing details—wrong turn, wrong person, wrong reaction.
And mistakes in this line of work don’t just cost money, they cost freedom…
sometimes lives. So we keep it controlled.
Four runs max in a week unless Boss says otherwise.
Enough money to make it worth it, but not enough pressure to make you sloppy. ”
That actually made sense.
“Oh, and I’m glad you brought that up,” he added, reaching for a sheet of paper. “Here’s your schedule for this week.”
He handed me the schedule.
I picked it up.
Saturday – 7:30 PM
Sunday – 9:15 PM
Tuesday – 10:45 PM
Thursday – 8:00 PM
All night runs.
My eyes scanned the locations scribbled next to each time; anxiety mingled with anticipation. Each drop point was within driving distance of Charlotte, just different neighborhoods and different drop-off spots.
“So as you see, your routes are close for now. Thirty minutes out, maybe forty depending on traffic. Simple drops… in and out. You’ll get a new schedule every Friday," he explained, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the surface.
My grip on the paper tightened slightly, the reality of my new responsibilities sinking in.
“You familiar with those areas?”
I looked up. “Yeah. This shouldn’t be a problem,” I replied, trying to sound confident.
“Good.”
Then, the question that had been gnawing at me since the moment I decided to step into that world finally rose to the surface.
“Second question,” I said, locking eyes with him. “When and how will I get paid?”
He grinned, his demeanor shifting slightly. “You really thinking about that money now, huh?”
I didn’t even bother lying. “Yeah.”
“Good… that’s motivation. To answer your question, you’ll get paid in cash… only.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
“No direct deposits, no records, no apps, no paper trails. Banks ask questions. Questions create attention. And attention creates problems,” he broke down.
That made sense… unfortunately.
“I’ll be handling your payments for the first two weeks,” he continued. “You finish a run, you come back here, and if everything checks out, you get paid on the spot.”
“And after that?”
“We have someone who handles payouts… a trustee. And trust me, he’s not going to try and fuck you over. If he does that, then he’ll be fucking us over.” His smile faded slightly. “And people who mess with our money tend to disappear.”
Message received… loud and clear.
Over the next few minutes, we delved into the intricacies of the job. Most of it sounded simple enough on the surface, but Marcos’s demeanor made it abundantly clear that mistakes weren't an option.
“Okay, so where is the package?” I asked, looking around for the mysterious cargo Marcos was being so secretive about.
Marcos tilted his head toward the paper in my hand. “Look back over your schedule.”
I glanced down.
“The first address is pickup; the second is drop-off,” he explained. “So nah, I won’t be the guy handing you anything. Remember what I told you… I’m just the recruiter.” He smirked. “The guy you’ll be meeting for the pickup is named Drico.”
“Drico,” I repeated slowly.
“He’ll be your only pickup contact unless one of us tells you differently. If anybody else gets out that car besides him, you call us immediately. Don’t ask questions… don’t try to figure it out… don’t call your mama or your friend… call us.”
“Got it.”
“I’ll warn you, though. Drico is a lil’ rough around the edges.
He’s dangerous, but I’m referring to his face.
You ever seen them movie villains who look like life tried to kill them a few times but failed?
Yeah… Drico look like that. Nigga got scars on his face that look like he lost a fight with a lawnmower and came back for round two. ”
I chuckled lightly.
“But he’s solid and loyal as hell. Been rocking with us for years.
You can talk to him if you need to, no problem.
Just as long as he don’t start saying no weird shit to you.
And if he does, trust me… we’ll know. As for the people at the drop-off spots?
You don’t help them and you definitely don’t start conversations.
Don’t tell them your name, where you’re from, or where you’re headed after.
Sit there, keep your hands on the wheel, and let them do their thing.
Just sit there, look pretty, and act like you’ve done it a thousand times. ”
I nodded slowly, taking it all in.
“Some of them might be new, and new people sometimes try to test the waters by asking questions or cracking jokes—try to see if you’ll slip up and start talking. Don’t.”
His eyes hardened just enough to let me know he wasn’t joking.
“But for the most part, they’ll just walk up, pop the trunk, grab what belongs to them, and keep it moving.
You’ll start recognizing faces after a while.
This world ain’t as big as it seems. And don’t let the looks fool you either.
Most of these dudes just look meaner than they actually are.
” He paused, then he gave a small smirk. “Most of them.”
I exhaled quietly.
Afterward, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, holding them out to me.
“These are for the car you’ll be driving tonight. If there’s nothing else you need… then you’re free to go. Drive safely. And remember… we’ll be watching.”
I nodded, pivoted on my heels, and started toward the door, the weight of everything settling on my shoulders. Just as I reached it, Marcos called out.
“Ajori.”
I swung around to face him once more.
His expression had changed. The relaxed attitude was gone and was replaced by a stern seriousness.
“Just remember,” he reminded me, holding my gaze, “the money only comes if everything goes smoothly.”
“It will,” I replied confidently.
Even as the words left my mouth, a small voice in the back of my head whispered that my life had officially stepped into something dangerous… and possibly the only thing standing between Kyrin and time running out.