"What about the rest of his story?" Lyons asked his partners.

Gadgets continued talking. "I can believe that the new gang had military weapons and high-class communication equipment. Money can buy anything."

"What about his refusing to work for the new gang?" Lyons asked.

Blancanales nodded. "It checks out against the information on file. He's a killer. He admits it. But none of the information in the DEA files mentions a civilian murder. He never killed anyone but gangsters. He never committed atrocities."

"Cops don't count?" Lyons snapped. As an ex-LAPD detective, he had gut-level hatred of cop killers. Coral had started his career as a gang gunman after killing two Mexican officers.

"I don't know if he's telling the truth," Blancanales added, "but he said those two hijacked his load of marijuana. They pistol-whipped him and dragged him off the highway to shoot him. He fought, and they got killed."

"I was in there," Lyons said, pointing toward the interrogation room. "I didn't hear that."

"This was one of the stories he told me in Spanish on the way from San Ysidro. Coral said, 'It's finally over,' and we started talking..."

"You informed him of his rights?" Lyons demanded.

"They read him his rights while they had him spread-eagled against the truck. But what does that matter? You think the Feds will subpoena my testimony?"

"Totally impossible," Gadgets said with a laugh. "You weren't even there."

"We never are," Lyons added with a smile.

Blancanales laughed with his partners. "Coral told me that all he ever wanted out of the smuggling operation was money for a ranch. But after he killed the two cops, it was down, down, down. Only the Ochoas could protect him from prosecution. Only the Ochoas paid him enough money so that he could send his kids to school and have a better life. He made the best of a bad situation."