The United Cartels of America, Season 6 (Queen of the South)

Part 13 - Mexico, Querido Mio

The wait was exhausting and both men hated it.

At first, they were hesitant to leave the hotel, but an exchange of texts with Castel's agents convinced them that if Wong was not a simple gangster, the Chinese would not grab them; on the contrary they would use them to send a message. Just that the message most likely needed to be sanctioned and this would take time.

So, Pote and James ventured outside and ended up in a restaurant, where they tried local dishes until both felt their stomachs would explode. Then they walked along the Nanjing Road, which was the renowned main street, and tried to avoid talking about the matters at hand.

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Just before Pote swiped the card to open the hotel room, he turned to James and said: "I know I've been out of Mexico for over 20 years now...but it's still my country...and it being torn by the narcs is a pesadilla (nightmare). If I could do anything to stop these yellow folks from setting foot there....I would!"

James nodded, his thoughts not so much on Mexico, but on the Mexicans in his life, and the reality of the country's predicament still affecting their lives.

As the door lock clicked and Poter pushed the door open, James could only see his hand move fast and pull the gun on his belt with an expert motion. James felt startled, then he noticed a fancy ladies' bag on the couch just as two young Chinese women, wearing skimpy clothes and too much make up, walked out from the bathroom.

"What is this?" Pote grumbled, gun still pointing at them.

"No need for guns. We're here for fun. Present to Church men from Mr .Wong!" One of the girls said in a melodic voice with a typical Chinese accent.

"This is a joke, right?" Pote had lowered his gun a little as James did his best to suppress a bout of snigger . Pote turned and stared at him, eye brows over his nose.

"Is he sending us prostitutes?" he mumbled.

"We are just escorts, Mister!" the other girl said in a way more native English.

"Escorts? Why would Wong think we need 'escorting'?" Pote sounded indignant.

"You are from Hong Kong?" James said looking straight at the second girl with the better command of English.

She nodded, took the several steps to him, and put her hand on his chest in a seductive gesture: "I am...but that would make no difference, would it now?"

Pote's breathing was getting louder and noisier.

James removed the girl's hand and said slowly: "You should go back and give Mr. Wong our deepest regards. But we are here on business!"

"That doesn't mean..." the girl was saying as Pote almost shouted: "Get out! I have had my fair share of putas when I was single...We are serious men! Tell Wong he can meta sus putas por el culo! Hey! He can shove his presents up his ass!"

James held his tongue at the rude outburst but was glad to see the two women pick up their purses and leave as fast as their stiletto heels allowed.

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Once the door shut behind them, Pote walked nervously around and glided his hand under the desk, then examined the couch for listening devices.

"You had your fair share?" James, who had checked the bathroom and had walked out satisfied it was 'clean' of bugs, finally said.

"Why're you asking? You haven't?" Pote just grumbled.

"No...I actually haven't!" James said slowly, then sat on the couch, still waiting for Pote to say more.