When you plan on killing someone, there is something about that state of mind that is kind of scary. You can’t have a conscience, you can’t think about your family, your kids, your hobbies, or anything that brings you joy because if you do, you will back out and not get to the task at hand. I think this is the reason most murders are committed while the killer is under the influence of some sort of drug. Drugs do an excellent job dimming the mind and the conscience. Unless you are a sociopath, psychopath, or functioning under some sort of personality disorder, a stone-cold sober mind can really inhibit what I call “kill drive”.

Kill drive can be incredibly difficult if you are a normally good person trying to set out to do evil because it also make you sloppy. While you are in the mode of shutting the world out, if you aren’t careful you forget to pay attention to the other details that you need to focus on to pull off a successful kill.

The cab ride to the coast was a 25 minute ride. My cab driver spoke English and about two minutes into the ride he said without any kind of fear: “what are you going to do with the gun senor” the words kind of woke me out of a mental slumber that the kill drive had put me in. I looked down and realized that my gun was sitting out in the open on my seat next to me. I was already getting sloppy. I looked up at the cab driver and smiled and said: I’m sorry. I hope that didn’t scare you, I am a collector and just purchased the gun from a friend.”
The cab driver smiled and said:” Senor, you are in Mexico. You can’t just purchase a gun from your friend for your collection. If you do that you have to have friends like mine. He smiled, slowly pulled off to the side of the road, reached down the side of his seat and pulled out a piece of shit Hi Point 9mm. (The Ford Escort of pistols) He pivoted the gun back and pointed it directly at my face. “Senor, we aren’t going to have any problems, are we?”

I found it kind of odd, that the gun in my face did nothing to me. I was not scared. I just did not care. As I looked down the barrel of his gun I could see into the chamber and the sun light was shining just enough that I could see the firing pin of his pistol. The man did not have a round chambered and I knew that I just won the gun fight.

I looked at the man and smiled and said: “Senor, I don’t want any trouble. I just want to get to the coast to find a place to rent so I can take care of some business. You can put your gun down. If I was going to kill you, I would have done it all ready. I can see that you do not have a round chambered. If you try to chamber one, I will pull this .357 up and “tallar una canoa” down the middle of your skull. How about we be friends instead.”

The cabbie smiled, lowered his gun and laughed. “Ok friend. Let’s get you to the coast.” He pulled back into the street and kept driving. I liked my cabby. (No homo) I could tell he was tough, and I could tell that he didn’t shake very easy. I guess driving a cab in TJ will do that to you.

As we drove, I looked out the window at Tijuana and it looked beautiful to me. The people, the taco stands, everything. The time I spent in La Mesa made me appreciate even the freedom of a rough town like TJ.

As the peace of freedom started to enter my mind, I thought “Ed, what the hell are you doing? You have a beautiful family at home, you have a beautiful home, you have an amazing life, you have a hot wife, and you could be on your way home but you are doing this dumbass thing. For what?”

I forced the image of a bleeding JD back into my head and I was immediately back in to kill drive. I pulled my shirt back on and I was back on the mission. Felix was going to die. Felix was going to suffer, and I was going to do it. I had a plan. A good plan. Kill drive was on and It would not be turned off until Felix was dead.