Oz Drakos: Loving Mick the Tick's Daughter

by Mallory Monroe

  “Hello, Mr. Sinatra,” said Andreas. “It’s an honor to finally meet you, sir.”

  “The honor is all yours,” said Mick. “What do you want?”

  Andreas was attempting to be cool about it. He didn’t want this man to see him sweat. But he was sweating like a pig. Him and the other heads. “We need you to understand our innocence in this affair.”

  “Innocence?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Holt Denasis. “We didn’t realize what Oz was doing.”

  “Tell me what you know,” Mick said.

  “Odysseus came to us,” said Andreas. “He said he had this plan to expand our base of support with him as our leader. We were all onboard with that idea. In Greece, he was a good leader for us. And then he started acquiring territories, and assigning them to us. Which we loved. We didn’t ask questions. We should have. But we knew Odysseus. We believed he knew what he was doing. But then, he casually mentions that the territories he’s been acquiring belongs to you. To you, Mick Sinatra! We were stunned, to say the least.”

  “So stunned,” said Denasis, “that we knew we had to get out of the mess Odysseus dragged us into. But then he killed Madinis, the head of one of our most faithful families. He claimed it was your men. He also claimed your men took out Morpheus.”

  “I thought you took out Madinis,” Mick said.

  “Me?” Andreas asked.

  “Your organization.”

  “No, we did not do any such thing. Why would we take out our own man? That was all Oz. And then, just when we were going to get out, and contact you personally, he killed two of your men to keep us in. That was all Oz too. He wanted a turf war with you. He wanted to elevate his name by coming for you, and, by the way, for your daughter. Well, when it all came to light, we knew we were in trouble then.”

  Mick stared at them. “What makes you think you’re no longer in trouble?”

  “We don’t think that,” said Andreas. “But when we saw Odysseus ingratiating himself into your daughter’s heart, we knew what he was up to.”

  “He was going to blame everything on us,” said Denasis. “That’s why, when our men on the ground informed us that you were in town, we hurried back to Florida too. To warn you.”

  Mick shook his head. “Do I look like I’m a foolish man to you?” he asked them.

  Andreas stared at him. “No. We would never claim that.”

  “Do I look like I’m a stupid man?”

  “No,” Andrea replied, wondering why he would ask such a question. “We would never think that Mick Sinatra is a stupid man.”

  “But that’s exactly what you’re claiming if you think you can tell a bullshit story like that to me, and I’ll believe it.”

  Andreas looked at Denasis. Then he looked back at Mick. “What are you saying?” he asked him.

  “I’m saying I wasn’t born at night,” Mick said, “so I couldn’t possibly have been born last night.”

  “Neither could I.”

  They heard the voice, and knew the voice, but they didn’t see the man.

  “Here I am,” said Oz. “Up here.”

  When the Greeks looked up, and saw Oz on the dilapidated stairs walking down, their hearts began to pound. Mick didn’t buy their story. He wasn’t buying their story at all!

  And they decided the only thing they could decide: they had to initiate their backup plan.

  They quickly pulled their guns on Mick and Oz. “Stay right where you are,” Andreas said, “and nobody will get hurt. Try to leave,” he added, “and will not hesitate to take both of you out.”

  Andreas gave the nod, and he and the Greeks began hurrying toward the back exit. They walked backwards, all with their guns still drawn, determined to make a clean getaway.

  But when they went to open that back exit, it was locked. They pushed on it and pulled on it, but it wouldn’t un-attach. Their men kicked on it, and tried to kick it down, but they quickly realized the door was jammed-from the outside! There was no kicking it down.

  Mick and Oz, in the meantime, had positioned themselves to take immediate cover. Because they knew what was next. And as soon as the Greeks realized they were stuck, and the only way out was to go through Mick and Oz, they began firing. But the shooting started just before Mick and Oz had dived into a walled off cubicle where the former occupants had undoubtedly, once upon a time, hacked up chickens. The Greeks might have picked the place, and had come early just in case. But Mick’s men had already been to the place (they went as soon as the call came in), and prepared for the confrontation.

  Now their advance work was paying off. Because Mick and Oz stayed behind their fortified position, and watched as Mick’s men upstairs showed themselves and as soon as the shooting started and began taking out every underboss, one by one by one.

  Until nobody was left, but the heads of the families themselves.

  “Drop your weapons now!” one of Mick’s men ordered.

  The family heads did not hesitate. They dropped their weapons and put up their arms.

  Mick and Oz reemerged, and slowly began walking toward the Greeks. When they stood in front of them, Oz took over.

  “Blamed it all on me,” he said. “I heard your speech, Andreas. You blamed it all on me. When you know it was you who recruited me. Begged me to lead the families out of the wilderness you yourselves had put them in. And I agreed,” Oz said. “Against everything screaming within me, I agreed. You once worked for me. Each and every one of you were once in my employ. I trusted each and every one of you. And what did you do? You stole from the biggest boss in the business, and tried to turn that shit on me. What you thought Mick the Tick wouldn’t do his homework? Did you think he’d just take your word for it? You fools!” Oz yelled.

  Although Mick wasn’t looking at Oz, he felt his energy. And his energy was of a man torn. He did not want to do what they both knew had to be done. If he allowed those men to turn on him, and blame him for their own misdeeds, then he might as well get ready for open season on Oz Drakos. Which would have been his choice. But not with Gloria involved. There was going to be no open season, Mick knew for a fact, on his daughter.

  Which meant there could be no open season on his daughter’s man.

  Mick was just about to handle it himself. He was just about to pull his gun and take all three of those motherfuckers out. But then he heard shots fired. And then the bodies of those scum heads of families dropped. Mick looked at Oz. He had taken them all out himself.

  Oz didn’t choke, Mick was pleased to see. He didn’t let sentimentality take him away from his duty. He did what he had to do.

  Mick patted Oz on the back. “Let’s get out of here and let the cleanup crew take over.”

  Oz turned to leave, too, although Mick could tell his heart was heavy. But then Oz turned back around. And stared at the dead men before him.

  Mick looked at him. “What is it?” he asked.

  “Someone’s missing.”

  “Who?”

  “Where’s Petrakis?”

  Mick looked around and realized it too.

  “Why wouldn’t Petrakis, one of the main heads of families, not be present? His underboss is here. Why isn’t he here?”

  Then Oz and Mick looked at each other. And they said, “Gloria,” simultaneously, and then they both quickly got on their cell phones while they ran.

  Alex had hurried down from the penthouse as soon as Oz phoned, and he got to Oz’s apartment first. But the security team Mick had phoned was right behind him. They kicked the door in before Alex could swipe the key, and Alex ran in first, his gun drawn too.

  But there was no Gloria.

  And the two guards that had been planted outside of the apartment door to watch over here had been killed and dragged inside.

  And the room looked as if a hurricane had struck it.

  Alex’s heart dropped, and he called Oz immediately.

  Oz and Mick were already in the SUV, with Oz speeding back to The Drakos when the call came in.


  “She’s not here,” Alex said anxiously to his brother.

  “Are there any signs of trouble?” Oz asked with even more anxiousness.

  “Yes,” Alex said. “Everywhere. They took her, Oz. Forcibly they took her.”

  Oz hit the steering wheel in anger.

  “Gotdammit!” Mick yelled, angry too.

  But then Oz slammed on brakes. And quickly began turning around.

  “What is it?” Mick asked him.

  “I know where,” Oz said. “I think I know where.”

  “Where?” Mick asked him.

  “Where Greeks go,” Oz said, as he flew.

  They arrived at Fotia, Oz’s favorite Greek restaurant, in record time, and both men jumped out of the car and ran inside.

  Dody, the owner, was still behind the bar like he usually was, and had a warm greeting for Oz like he always had. “Odysseus!” he said excitedly. “I see you brought a guest along.”

  But Oz didn’t smile back or offer some cute joke like he usually did. Oz, instead, jumped over the bar counter, ran up to Dody, forcing Dody backwards into a rack of glasses, causing them all to fall and break, and put a gun in his mouth.

  As soon as the customers saw that gun, they ran out of the restaurant whatever way they could, and Mick, his gun drawn too, looked around.

  “I’ll pull this trigger without batting an eye, Dody,” Oz said. “Where is she?”

  Dody didn’t hesitate. He immediately started pointing toward a back area that Oz didn’t know existed. He always went to the left of the bar, through a curtain and down a hall, and to the office where he always conducted his business. But Dody was pointing to the right of the bar.

  If Dody thought that admission would absolve him, and he could take off after Oz and Mick ran back there, he had, as Mick would say, flawed reasoning. Because Oz knew Dody was in bed with those Greek families just as much as Oz had been. He was as much a part of the setup as those family heads had been.

  Oz kept his gun in Dody’s mouth, and forced him to escort him to the back.

  Mick followed behind, just in case there was someone else in that restaurant involved in the action, as they made their way to a door that led, not down a hall, but down a set of steps. When they got down there, there was a door.

  Dody looked at Oz, as if to tell him without saying a word because of the position of Oz’s gun, that the girl was in that room. But Oz motioned for Dody to knock on the door. Dody knocked.

  “Who is it?” Oz knew that voice. It was Petrakis.

  Oz whispered to Dody. “Say your name,” he ordered, and then removed the gun from Dody’s mouth.

  “It’s me, Trak,” said Dody. “It’s Dody.”

  “You can come in,” said Petrakis, and then Oz nodded.

  But as soon as Dody opened that door, Mick grabbed Oz and slung him against the side wall as bullets sailed out of that room. Dody was shot repeatedly, over and over, until Petrakis realized his error. And he stopped firing in horror. He had been certain that it was a trick. That it was Oz. He was mortified that he was wrong.

  But just when he let his guard down, he realized another startling truth. Because Oz and Mick showed themselves, with their weapons drawn.

  “Drop it,” Oz started saying to his longtime friend, until he realized what he was seeing.

  Gloria was in that room, too, gagged and tied and sitting right beside Petrakis. And Petrakis, standing, didn’t have his gun on her. It was worse than that. He had a remote in his hand. A remote that would ignite the bomb Gloria had strapped around her. Petrakis had her wired.

  And when Oz and Mick saw Gloria in that position, and realized it wasn’t going to be some ordinary shootout, their collective hearts dropped.

  “No,” said Petrakis to his longtime friend, “you drop it!” And Petrakis showed them the remote.

  But Oz was staring at Gloria. He prayed she remembered what he had said to her.

  “Whenever you’re in trouble, and there’s no talking it out, I want you to look into my eyes. My eyes,” Oz had said, “will tell you what to do.”

  Gloria remembered. But she had to flip it. Because she needed Oz to look into her eyes. Her eyes needed to tell Oz what to do!

  And as soon as Gloria made eye contact with Oz, she began looking down and to her left.

  “Let’s not do anything rash,” Mick was saying to the nervous Greek, as Oz looked at Gloria, and attempted to see what her eyes needed him to see.

  “I’ve got the remote right here in my hand,” Petrakis was saying. “All I have to do is apply pressure, and she dies. Drop your guns now!”

  Oz slyly looked down, at the bottom of the chair where Gloria appeared to want him to look. But at first, he didn’t see anything.

  “Drop it now!” Petrakis was saying.

  Mick realized Gloria and Oz were making eye contact. He therefore pulled all of Petrakis attention to him. “I’m going to lay my weapon down,” he started saying. “Give me a chance to do it.”

  “Just do it!” Petrakis yelled.

  “You have to promise you will not harm my daughter.”

  “You are not in control here,” said Petrakis. “You do not tell me what I must do! Drop your guns!”

  “Don’t harm my daughter,” Mick said as he was laying his weapon down. “You press that button and we all die. Including you,” he added.

  But Oz was still trying to see what Gloria’s eyes were begging him to see. And as Mick was speaking, he saw it. He saw it! A tiny button on the bottom of the chair. A button that had a tiny wire attached. It was the trigger. Not that remote in Petrakis’s hand. That button on that chair was the trigger! That was why Petrakis had his foot so close to that button. It was the trigger.

  Or, at least, Oz prayed that was what Gloria wanted him to see.

  “You hear me, Odysseus?” Petrakis was saying. “You drop yours too. Now!” he yelled.

  “I’m putting it down,” Oz said, as he showed his gun and began bending over as if he was going to lay his weapon down.

  But then Oz yelled, Do it! And as soon as she heard those two words, Gloria took all of her strength to lean the chair away from Petrakis, and thereby the button he would need to press to destroy them all. And Oz shot Petrakis in the gut, and then between the eyes. Petrakis seemed shocked by the turn of events, and just stood there. And then he dropped dead.

  Oz ran to Gloria, to get her out of that contraption, while Mick ran to Petrakis, to remove that remote control from his hand. And he was angry with Oz.

  “Are you nuts?” he yelled, as he hurried to Gloria too. “You could have killed my child!”

  But Gloria was shaking her head. Oz removed the gag from her mouth. “It’s on this chair, Daddy,” she said. “That remote isn’t the trigger. It’s on this chair!”

  Oz pointed out the button, and the tiny wire that led up to the bomb. And then Mick exhaled.

  But it was only brief relief as he and Oz worked feverishly to get Gloria out of that chair and away from that trigger.

  They untied her as fast as they could, constantly looking down to make sure nothing was disturbing that button.

  And then, as they heard sirens outside, they freed her. Gloria got out of that chair, and fell into Oz’s arms.

  Mick felt odd seeing his daughter with a go-to man that wasn’t him, but he also was pleased that Oz Drakos was that go-to man. Because Oz was a man as Mick counted men. He knew how to handle himself. He, Mick concluded, could handle Gloria.

  But not to be outdone, Mick placed his arm around Gloria, too, as they hurried as far away from that room, and that chair, as they could get.

  EPILOGUE

  They were in the Biltmore club at The Drakos, and Oz was the life of the party. He had on his big hat, and had his unlit cigar between his teeth, and was passing out drinks and laughing and joking as he and his buddies took over the bar.

  Gloria and her girlfriends, including Leyla, were at the center table, sipping wine and enjoying the party too. It was supposed t
o be just a little weekend get-together so that Oz’s friends and Gloria’s friends could get to know each other. Gloria invited her close friends, including her brother Teddy and his girlfriend Nikki. All told: about twenty people. And Oz invited his friends too. All told: about three hundred. Teddy was over with the guys, too, having a blast. Nikki was with the girls.

  “So,” Gloria said to her girlfriends with a smile on her face, “what do you think?”

  “He’s a lot, girl,” said Nikki. “I’m not gonna lie. You’re going to have your hands full with that one.”

  “I know,” Gloria said, but she couldn’t stop smiling even as she said it.

  “He’s definitely extra,” agreed Leyla. “But in a loveable way.”

  “A loveable rogue,” said another friend.

  And Gloria was still smiling. “I agree,” she said.

  “But how do you feel about having a man that larger than life?” Nikki asked her.

  Gloria thought about it. “He certainly keeps me on my toes,” she said. “But how do I feel about it? I love it, actually.”

  “I’ve never seen you happier,” said Leyla. “That’s a good thing. But I have one bone to pick with you,” she added.

  Everybody looked at Leyla. “What?” asked Gloria.

  “This music, girl,” Leyla said, “is horrible!” They all laughed. “Who’s picking these sorry-ass songs?”

  Gloria hadn’t even paid the music any attention. But when Leyla said it, that was when they heard it. It was Hootie and the Blowfish bloviating on some song none of them recognized. It sounded so country to them, and so removed from what they were used to hearing, that they all were laughing.

  “I think it sounds great,” Gloria said honestly, but they all laughed as if she was joking.

  Until Oz came over and asked Gloria if she wanted to dance. “Dance, babe?” he asked her.

  Her girlfriends just knew she was going to pass. The leader of their hip girls group dancing to a Hootie record? Was he crazy?

  He apparently was because he asked, and Gloria gladly accepted. She got up, away from her girls, and gladly went to Oz.