THE DEATH KING — A Shadowboxer File action thriller

CHAPTER

They followed the taillights to the border crossing, a sleepy shack on the edge of a ten meter no man’s land.

A single striped bar next to the guard house, one on the inside pressing a button at the wave of the other as he checked identification or waved people through.

They were three cars behind the truck and watched the driver lean out to pass an envelope to the guard on his feet.

He waved to the man in the shack and they let the truck pass with no inspection.

“See,” Em seethed.

“El Cohecho,” said Brill.

She raised an eyebrow at him in the faint glow of the dashboard lights.

“I read a book.”

“Just the one?”

“I had to move my lips,” he said.

Em pulled up next to the guard and presented her license.

The guard leaned down and peered at it, looked at her and licked his lips.

He glanced over at Brill.

“What? No ID?”

Brill leaned over and handed him a twenty dollar bill folded in half.

“Andrew Jackson.”

The guard slipped it into his shirt pocket as he stood up and motioned to the…