BlackStar Bomber

by T C Miller

  “I do know!” Lemonica yelled at the top of his lungs as his fist slammed down on the table again. “I’m gonna make this perfectly clear. . .You got thirty days to come up with every penny you owe us or your body parts’ll start showing up all over northern California. . .Got it?”

  The group nodded in unison.

  He straightened his tie and adjusted his suit jacket. “Like I said before, we know where you live and where you work. . .And that goes for your families, too. You run and I guarantee you. . .we’ll find your sorry asses. Contact any cops, even the local dogcatcher and we’ll know about it and you’ll regret it for the rest of your unnaturally short lives. . .Is that clear?”

  “Crystal,” Jason mumbled. “We’re not stupid enough to double-cross the mob.”

  “Oh, yeah? Seems to me like you already done that. . .so come up with that money damn quick or you’re history. . .In the meantime, you probably need a reminder of what happens if you don’t.”

  He nodded toward Toby, who walked to the other end of the table and grabbed Bud Anderson by the arm.

  Bud’s eyes went wide. He shook his head from side to side and began shouting something through the duck tape as he jumped up and down in the chair as far as the restraints would allow.

  Toby took a heavy rock hammer out of his suit coat pocket and brought it down squarely on Bud’s forearm.

  The muffled snap of bone breaking was almost drowned out by the stifled cries from the group. Another strike and the arm was broken four inches away. A third blow wasn’t necessary. Bud passed out and slumped over.

  Lemonica nodded and Toby stepped back.

  “You got one month from today. . .not one minute more. . .Or broken bones will be the least of your worries.”

  He opened the door at the end of the room and led Nick Boretti through it.

  The two security guys cut the cable ties binding them and one waved smelling salts under Bud’s nose to bring him back to consciousness.

  Bill wrapped some of the duct tape around Bud’s arm to hold it steady. They could properly dress it later.

  The group hastily tore the duck tape from their mouths and began talking at once while interrupting each other.

  Jason held up his hands to get their attention. “Guys, I think we’re in a shit load of trouble.”

  The others rolled their eyes and returned to exchanging comments in high-pitched voices that conveyed panic and fear. Again, Rick was unusually calm and quiet.

  Jason started to move toward him and stopped. Maybe he’s in shock. There would be time for questions later. All he wanted now was to get out of the casino and face the fact their lives would never be the same.

  CONSORTIUM MAIN OFFICE

  CENTRAL EUROPE

  “I do not like to bother you during your afternoon file review, Commissioner, but I have had an inquiry from one of our clients in Las Vegas.”

  “This is something you cannot dispense with?”

  “Only because of the amount, sir, and because they wish to file a claim against another of our clients.”

  “What is the amount and who is the other client?”

  “The claim is for three hundred thousand US dollars. The other client is Rick Eichner.”

  The Commissioner touched a gold-plated cigar lighter to the end of a Cohiba and puffed until it glowed persimmon red. He leaned back in the chair and blew a fanciful smoke ring toward the ceiling, quickly following up with a more forceful ring that passed through the first.

  “What are the particulars?”

  “It would appear Eichner is pursuing the operation of which we previously spoke and, while in the process, he and his team defrauded the client’s casino.”

  “Is the casino owner connected to the American Mafia?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And their accounts are in good standing?”

  “Yes, sir, as usual. They have approximately three and a half billion dollars in our care.”

  “How much does that yield in interest?”

  The aide did a quick calculation in his head. “Approximately seven hundred sixty thousand dollars per day.”

  “Pay the claim for five hundred thousand, with the condition they do not pursue the matter any further. I do not want Eichner’s operation compromised.”

  “Should I inform Mister Eichner?”

  “Not immediately. . .You may eventually tell him we are providing protection and there will be repayment at a later date. If he asks for details, tell him we have been fair with him, as we are with all our clients. Tell him to ask the client who runs the smuggling ring in California if we have not been more than generous with him.”

  “Very good, sir. I will see to it immediately.”

  “Also, make notes in Mister Eichner’s file indicating my approval of the transaction. Five hundred thousand is a trifling sum compared to what his operation may yield, but none the less, it is still a debt.”

  “Yes, Commissioner. Thank you for your direction.”

  “Not at all, Conrad. . .I am pleased you brought the matter to my attention. Now, if you will close the door behind you, I wish to continue with my work.”

  “Indeed, sir.” The heavy wooden door closed with little effort and a double electric lock secured it.

  ***

  CHAPTER 6

  JASON’S GAME ROOM

  Bet they haven’t gotten eight hours sleep between them. Rick looked at the subdued and sullen group. And they look defeated. . .How gullible these Americans are. Living among them for twenty years had given him a keen insight into their psychology, including the need to gamble to relieve boredom.

  Gambling brought the group together in the beginning and helped him identify their individual talents. He pushed out anybody who didn’t possess a skill he needed to fulfill his plan until he had distilled the group down to the essence he required.

  It was easy to steer conversation over endless card games to the subjects he desired. Their complaints of job dissatisfaction revealed secrets about the Air Force base and its operations that allowed him to perfect his plan. The scopolamine he added to their drinks made them even more pliable. Its nickname was the “Zombie Drug”, and it made people more susceptible to suggestions.

  The game room, as Jason referred to it, was an ordinary two and a half car garage that had been partially converted to recreational use. A Budweiser sign buzzed and flickered occasionally on an unfinished wall.

  A pool table with cigarette burns and scratch marks on the rails and a green frayed felt table took up much of the space and served a variety of purposes. At the moment, three empty Domino’s boxes were spread open on it. Scraps of cheese pizza crust were discarded in one and dried pieces of pepperoni stuck to the bottom of another.

  Jason sat on the edge of the table, picking at chunks of oily pepperoni. Bud, Jack, and Bill sat side-by-side on the couch sipping beers and munching cold day old pizza.

  Rick took a slug of beer. “All right, guys, I think we need to admit that we’re well beyond the old rock and a hard place thing. . .”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” Jason broke in. “Thanks to you, we’re in it up to our asses! And before we go on, I still want to know what happened to the three hundred grand that was in the van?”

  “What the. . .Why the hell you asking me? The goons who searched the van probably took it. . .I remember one of them taking a gym bag over to a car when they pulled us out of the van. Besides, if you were so worried about it, why didn’t you bring it up with Lemonica? Or in the van on the way back from the lake. Why wait ‘til now, hotshot?”

  Jason licked his lips and stammered, “Well, I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. . .I thought maybe you guys hid it. . .Or that Lemonica might be playing us. . .I mean, we’re talking about a lot of money and I didn’t know. . .”

  Rick spat out, “You didn’t know if you could trust us, is that it?”

  “No, not exactly. . .We’re under a lot of stress and like I said, I thought maybe you hid it,” Jason sput
tered and tripped over the words.

  He looked at the others for support, but no one came to his defense. His voice rose in pitch and volume, “Look, I don’t know who to trust anymore! All I know is we’re screwed. . .No two ways about it.”

  “So you start blaming your friends?” Rick calmly replied as he stood up and just as quickly sat back down. “Tell you what. . .Let’s both take a step back here, okay? Pissing all over each other’s shoes will only give us wet feet. . .and blaming each other won’t clean up this mess. We need to think things out, right?” He looked around the room for approval.

  The others slowly nodded. “We need to figure out how to come up with the money or the mob’ll make an example out of us. I know you told Lemonica about borrowing against our houses, but they’re already mortgaged to the hilt. We couldn’t sell them, even if we wanted to. . .In fact, I imagine foreclosure notices will be hitting our mailboxes any day now.”

  “So, what you’re saying is if the mob doesn’t get us, the bankers will?”

  “I’m not worried about the bankers. . .They don’t bust heads or cut people’s throats. All they do is take back their collateral. . .No, we’re in way deeper than that. In fact, let’s start by going over where we stand, point by point.”

  He raised one finger. “First, we tried to cheat not one, but three casinos out of half a million bucks and got caught. . .Which means three groups of bad guys are gunning for us.”

  Another finger went up. “Before that, we borrowed thousands of dollars from friends and relatives on top of the second mortgages. No way we’re ever gonna be able to pay them back in a hundred years.”

  A third finger went up. “And last, we maxd out our credit cards. . .We can’t even afford the minimum monthly payments. So, the way I see it, our resources have pretty much dried up, right?”

  Rick paused long enough to make eye contact with each member of the group and continued before they could interrupt, “We also used up all of our cash, figuring we’d make a killing. We don’t even have the money to run, even if we could get away. We’re all tapped out and short about, oh, two hundred and ninety five thousand, I’d guess. Unless one of you has a fairy godmother, we’re dead men. . .Pure and simple.”

  Jason shot to his feet. “That’s exactly what I said, remember? If this thing goes south, we’re all screwed. . .Didn’t I say that?”

  His look of satisfaction brought no comfort to the others.

  “That’s right, champ,” Jack spoke up. “You get the ‘I Told You So!’ award of the month. We’d have a T-shirt made up that says that. . .but we’re too broke. Now sit your ass down and let Rick go on.”

  Rick lowered his voice, “All right then, I’ll ask the question again. . .Am I right?”

  Rick was right. The logic of his argument sank in and buried them like an avalanche.

  Jason jumped to his feet again and jabbed a finger at Rick. “And you got us into this mess with your bullshit talk of dreams and riches! So, Mister Bigshot Idea man, how are you going to get us out?” He started to move toward Rick, who stood his ground. “Plus, I’m still not sure it was the mob who took the three hundred grand!”

  Rick took a quick step forward and shoved hard on both of Jason’s shoulders, causing him fall back on the couch. “Okay, that’s it. . .I’ve had it right up to here with you getting in my face. I’m in the same boat as everybody else. . .No, I don’t have an answer for you and probably never will! But it’s time for you to quit your bitching and move on. . .This blame game won’t put bucks on the table. Bad mouth me all you want, but we need to come up with some kind of plan. The clock is ticking and the noose is getting tighter as we speak.”

  Jason started to rise from the couch again until Bill stepped in front of him and blocked his way.

  Jason puffed up his chest and yelled at Rick, “It’s just a little too damned easy for you to explain the money away, just like that!” He snapped his fingers for emphasis.

  Bill continued to block Jason’s way. “All right, you two, settle down. I’m serious. . .put a cork in it! Rick’s right. . .Gettin’ all pissed at each other ain’t gonna get us out of this hole. And tryin’ to beat the shit outta him won’t do no good neither.”

  “No,” Jason shot back. “. . .but I’d feel better.”

  “Oh yeah?. . .Bring it on, chump.”

  Jason saw he had no support and sat down after a few moments. “Okay, okay, maybe you’re right. . .Time’s running out and we’re no better off than we were yesterday.”

  “True,” Jack added in a conciliatory way. “And we’re supposed to be partners in this, so we gotta work together like Rick says. . .Otherwise, we all go down the shitter together.”

  They nodded their heads in agreement. Desperation hung thicker in the air than a Tulé fog in the Sacramento Valley. They stared at each other with a sullenness born from fear and the scopolamine drug.

  Bud stuck his finger as far down in the cast as he could trying to scratch his arm. Pale faces and dull eyes displayed the resigned shock that settled in after their release from the back room of the casino and was still evident.

  Bill attempted to restart the conversation. “Man, those casino owners sure were eager to let us go. . .Guess they figure we can’t come up with the money if we’re tied up with arrests and court appearances and such.”

  “What it comes right down to is they don’t want any official record of us. . .You know, in case we should have an unfortunate accident or something,” Bud noted sarcastically.

  “Plus, you gotta figure it won’t take long for other casinos to find out we cheated them,” Bill replied. “We could end up facing guys who use baseball bats instead of croupier sticks.”

  “They gotta give us more time. . .I mean, it’s not like they’re dumb.” Bud offered. “They gotta know it’s gonna take more than a month to come up with that kind of money.”

  “Push comes to shove, I don’t think they give a damn about our money problems,” Bill shot back. He wrung his hands and looked around. “How could I let you guys talk me into this, anyway?”

  He slumped back on the couch as he posed the question. “My Mary’s gonna go ballistic. . .I mean, she’ll dump my ass in a New York minute. She warned me not to throw money away on gambling, but did I listen? Nooo! Went right ahead and did it anyway. . .Should never have listened to you guys. . .”

  “Now, wait just a freakin’ minute there, amigo,” Bud yelled. “Nobody put a stinkin’ gun to your head. You was in this right from the beginning and went along with it just fine. . .Truth is, we all let greed get the best of us and now it’s time to pay the piper.”

  Jason joined back in, “Look, I’m as brave as the next man, but those casino guys scare the hell out of me. No way we can put anything over on them. . .So we need another way out of this mess and the way I see it, this is Rick’s fault. Yeah, you, chump. . .You need to come up with a big chunk of the money on your own. Sell some of your construction equipment or get a loan. . .Do something, anything to help get us out of this mess.”

  Rick started to move toward Jason but stopped in mid-stride. “Okay, maybe I should’ve come clean right from the start. . .So let me tell you where I stand. First of all, the equipment is all leased. . .I don’t own it. My office is rented and I’m three months past due. And I owe the government half a million bucks in back taxs. . .I couldn’t get a loan to buy lunch if I was eating by myself.

  “Sure, I have account payments coming in, but the guys at the bank are getting what the IRS doesn’t. That’s why I was so eager to try this. . .Figured it’d be cash nobody could trace. So, as Bill put it, push comes to shove, I’m in this as deep as anybody, maybe deeper. Nothing I can do about it, so let’s drop the subject and remember why we’re here.”

  “Yeah, because time’s ticking away and none of us have the slightest idea how to get out of this mess.”

  “That’s just it!” Bill clenched his teeth and slammed his fist down on the arm of the couch. “There ain’t no damned way outt
a this bind we’re in. . .Unless we start robbing banks or something.”

  “Actually, that might not be a bad idea,” Rick said it so calmly it caused the others to stop in mid-sentence and turn toward him.

  He went on, “Although, robbing banks is for losers. . . Prisons are filled with guys who tried. They usually end up with a few thousand bucks and an exploding dye pack for their efforts. Putting the casino thing aside, we’re not that dumb, are we?”

  His comment was met with a couple of rude looks and they all began to talk at once.

  Rick waved both hands to get their attention. “Look, guys, I think I may have an answer to our problems. . .I really do. If you’ll just give me a few minutes, I can lay it all out for you.”

  Frustrated, they fell silent and waited.

  “I’m not saying that what’s happening is the way it should be. . .I’m just telling it the way it is. Our day-to-day lives are a thing of the past. . .long gone and deader than road kill. I’ve wracked my brain day and night, like I know you all have and can’t come up with an easy solution. But that doesn’t mean we’re all doomed.

  “And by the way, you’re right, yelling at each other won’t do any good at all. . .And it’s sure not gonna get the mob off our backs. I imagine you’ve already figured out they’ll need to set an example to show they won’t be cheated. My guess is they’ll take every penny we come up with and kill one or all of us in slow and painful ways.”

  The idea had already occurred to each of them and it showed in their faces.

  Gotcha. “Let’s face it, if you’ll pardon the bad pun, we took a gamble and lost. Our options aren’t just limited. . .They flat out don’t exist. On the bright side, though, this whole thing did prove we can work together as a team, didn’t it?”

  They nodded.

  “Well, in that case, I may know a way out of this mess. It might not be my first choice, but it may be the only one we have left.”

  Heads came up slowly at the encouraging note in his voice.