+01:01:57 (6:20pm)

Jesus pulled up to a taco truck sitting on E. Belmont Ave just off of the 180. He felt self-conscious as he hit the alarm on his brand new Ford F-150. Usually when he met with his source out in the field he brought an old unmarked police car and park a block away. But, seeing as he no longer had access to the police fleet and in a bit of a time crunch he had to risk his baby.

His source gave a friendly wave from his table. He sat under a blue canopy that failed to provide any shelter from the low hanging sun. Jesus took a seat across from the source and took another glance at his truck.

“The more you keep looking at it the more people are going to think there’s something good to steal inside,” the source grinned. “You know I could’ve just met you at your place if you’re so worried about that thing.”

“Yeah right, Emmanuel. If I let you in my place you’d find a way to crash for a month; and I only got a week left before I move to L.A.”

“Oh yeah, mom told me! Congratulations bro,” Emmanuel cheered, raising his beer. He took a long swig of it, which Jesus felt was probably more for the sake of drinking than to celebrate his accomplishment.

“Thanks,” Jesus demurred.

“L.A., huh. That means you’ll live kind of close to Alejandra in Bakersfield.”

“Yeah...” Jesus groaned at the reminder that soon their bossy elder sister will be the closest family member to him.

“So when’s your last day?” Emmanuel asked in between sips of beer.

“My last day was a couple of days ago, actually. But a friend asked me too look into something so here we are. Have you heard of any news about the NMB?”

“Naw, but I’ve been here all day. Why what’s up?”

“There was a hit earlier today and the PD is looking to find out if there’s gonna be much blowback.”

“Who got hit?”

F**k if I know, Jesus thought.

“They haven’t identified the body yet. That’s where you come in.”

“Alright, alright. I’ve only partied with them a couple times so I don’t have any solid connections with NMB. I can do the whole friend of a friend thing, though.”

“Here’s what I really want to know though. What can you tell me about Mateo Santos?”

Emmanuel’s eyes went wide and he choked on his beer. He looked around the canopy as he coughed and held his finger to his lips to signal Jesus to not say another word.

“Where did you hear that name?” Emmanuel gurgled.

“They just told me he was a suspect. Why does it matter?” Jesus leaned in.

“That vato is f*****g legend, that’s why! The s**t I heard he’s done made me think he wasn’t real.”

“Like what?”

“S**t...like taking out a house full of like 5 guys all on his own. They tried to creep in on the Sureño territory and he sent them a message that they weren’t welcome. He stapled their fingers to spell bienvenidos on a door mat. But the real crazy s**t is what I heard he did to his own father. They say that his father used to be running things up here, but he was f*****g up big time like losing shipments of drugs, and letting some of the underlings skim money from dealing. Anyways, Mateo had already made a name for himself down in the motherland and they sent him up here to deal with it. Everyone thought he was just going to come up, kick the s**t out of a few dealers, and go home.

“But instead the minute he pulled up to his old man’s house he stabbed the f****r in the chest like 20 times, and then gave pieces of his dad’s broken ribs to people who were skimming money. Well people got their s**t together real quick after that. Even then he killed some of his dad’s close lieutenants before someone else was put in charge up here.”

“Jesus,” Jesus grimaced.

“Don’t take your own name in vain,” Emmanuel punned.

“Who’s in charge now?” Jesus asked, ignoring it. He was used to them after all these years.

“Nobody really knows. Some of the older lieutenants still call the shots, but they get their orders from someone else. At least that’s what I hear anyways,” Emmanuel concluded.

“Well, see what you can find out about him and who got hit.”

“Alright I’ll call you tomorrow with something,” Emmanuel said dismissively as he took a big gulp of his beer.

“Not tomorrow; tonight,” Jesus snapped as he snatched the bottle from his brother’s lips. “It’s really important. Like life and death important, okay?”

“Okay! Okay! I get it,” Emmanuel burped and then pulled out his phone.

Jesus watched his brother for a couple of minutes to make sure he was actually texting some of his friends and then got up to order some tacos for himself and another beer for his brother as payment. He could tell it was going to be a long night.