by Tom Haase
The arrangement for five percent of Ramon’s profits sounded great in theory, but the reality was now proving to be dubious. The guy had a small operation and wasn’t producing enough profit to ensure five percent of what might be no income. Eddie decided he needed to rethink his whole agreement with his ex-lover. He had a growing sense of foreboding that things were not going well in Ramon’s business. He had to reexamine his position.
9
Chuck drove back to his place around five. He briefly considered Roberto’s idea of leaving town for a few days to figure out what to do. On reflection, he didn’t like the idea. A new thought occurred to him, and he decided to make the call to Eddie. The time had arrived to get rid of the drugs and make sure everyone understood he didn’t have them.
“I hear congratulations are in order. Well done, Lieutenant,” Chuck said when Eddie answered.
“Thanks, man. It was a surprise. Still can’t believe it.”
“Listen, I have a problem, and you might help. It might make you look good as a new lieutenant.”
“What could make me look good?”
“On second thought, there’s nothing that could do that,” Chuck chortled.
“Funny, see if I ever help you out again,” Eddie replied in jest.
“I’ve found what looks like contraband from the boat that crashed into my place.”
“What kind of contraband?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a bundle of drugs which fell off the boat when it rammed my wall. I don’t know what kind but I believe it’s most likely heroin. Fifty pounds, I guess, would be close to its weight.”
“Damn, that’s almost a million dollars,” Eddie said in amazement. “I’ll be over later. I’m tied up here for a while. Don’t let it go anywhere. Will you remain there the whole time till I can get there?”
“Yes, I’ll have a friend come over to help me guard it.”
“No need to do that, I’ll get there after I get out of this session with the captain. I have to be present, no way out of it. See you then.” He ended the call.
Chuck sat at the dining room table and took a sip of his beer. Something wasn’t right. Why wouldn’t a cop come and get the goods right away? Why not send over the boys in the drug squad he was in charge of now?
The TV blasted news about a massive bomb attack in New York, and Chuck’s attention switched to finding out all he could about the terrorist attack. The questions flashing through his mind about Eddie moved to the back burner. After listening to the reports on the attack for half an hour, he realized the news talking heads had run out of information. They only filled the screen with gibberish offered by people who wouldn’t know a terrorist from a man on a flying trapeze.
He placed Merlin in his cage and covered it for the night. The bird had eaten the goodies Chuck provided. The animal had spoken not a word even though Darlene had insisted the bird talked up a storm.
Something still bugged at him. The questions returned, and he thought perhaps the “new” lieutenant had too much to do on his first day. His friend, he concluded, was indisputably swamped with paperwork and getting settled into his new position and that made sense. He realized this thing had been on hold for a few days and a few more hours wouldn’t make much difference.
Chuck remembered Roberto giving him a warning. Someone would figure out he discovered the drugs and still had them. They might come for them. If they did, they would try to regain the heroin. That might be at any time, but he suspected any attempt to assault his place would come when it was dark.
If anyone tried to take it from him, he didn’t have the firepower to stop a gang, nor the personnel. He required assistance right now. It wasn’t fear that drove him but practicality. The next thing he did was to call Sam Jones, his Seminole Indian friend.
Chuck remembered the Captain and the Adjutant General had asked for his help in discovering any information on the drug trafficking in Savannah. This might offer him an opportunity to do that, without getting personally involved in police work. After returning from his combat tours against ISIS and recovering from his wound, he wanted no involvement with government entities.
His concentration now focused on getting his newly purchased warehouse converted into his personal residence. The building had been constructed in the forties and sat on the edge of the Savannah River, east of the Truman Parkway where it ended into President Street. There were five buildings in a row, each separated by walkways to the river. A street came close to the front of the buildings, ran along them, and returned up to President Street for about a half-mile in length.
During the recent operation to get rid of the organization engaging in human trafficking in the area, Emma, an undercover agent for the AG posing as an interior decorator, in which discipline she actually held a degree, had helped Chuck. As a result of her efforts, the place now showed like a minimalist designed living space. The second floor contained an office space looking out onto the river and a plush master bedroom with a modern bathroom on-suite.
She had also asked him to become a consultant who would work with her as an undercover asset, or at least one not connected with law enforcement. He had declined. They were still friends, but the romantic fling they had enjoyed was no longer part of their relationship. Chuck turned it off after her approach to get him involved in government business. He had wanted nothing to do with that.
10
Chuck called Sam. He answered on the third ring. Sam was a former special operator for the Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA), the same type of unit in which Chuck had previously served. Their single mission–eliminate terrorists who attempted to operate against the national interest of the United States. They both remembered Matt Higgins and Bridget Donavan from the stories told about them long after those two left the DIA.
“Hey man, what’s up?” was the greeting Chuck received when Sam spoke.
“Hate to call you only when I have a request.”
“Shoot. What you got?” Sam queried.
“You will not believe it. I got myself wrapped up in another bad problem. This time drug running.”
“You are kidding me. No way, Kemo Sabe. Did anyone ever tell you that you are a very dangerous person to be around?”
“Let me tell you what’s been going on.” Chuck told him of the events that transpired after the motorboat crashed into his place. He explained that he thought there might be an imminent danger from the bad guys, whoever they were, if they decided he had the drugs. They would unquestionably come after him, and it would be bloody, probably even his blood.
“Got you. I’ll be coming with a few friends in less than an hour. Can’t have you losing any blood. Then who would provide the beers? You understand we’ll be carrying,” Sam said.
“Of course. Thanks and I’ll hold my fire when you arrive,” Chuck chortled.
While he waited, Chuck prepared his armory. He opened the storage space built behind a fake wall in his upstairs office. He made sure the M-16, the M-4, and the two Glocks had fully loaded magazines. He chambered a round in each. The Glock he kept by his bed always had a round in the chamber.
He had a philosophy: A weapon without a round in the chamber was a toy, useless in a gunfight because in the two seconds it took to chamber a round he could be one second dead.
When the doorbell rang, he checked outside and then greeted Sam with a man hug and shook hands with the three friends he brought along. He remembered them from the assault on the sex trafficking headquarters. These guys were all Army paratroopers and had seen combat.
“What’da you got?” Sam asked.
“Here is the package we’re going to guard.” He pointed to it. He had positioned it on the dining room table.
“What’s it worth?” one Indian asked.
“Somewhere around a million in street value, I guess,” Chuck responded.
“What do you want us to do?” Sam said.
“We have two windows overlooking the street. There is one on the stairway. I see you
guys have handguns. Sam, you take the M-4, and if we need to, you take the window on the stairs. It’ll give you a good field of fire on anyone coming on the street. You two,” he pointed at the remaining two Indians, “take up positions at the front windows on this floor. And you, Thunder, if I remember your name correctly, stay with me behind the dining room table.”
“Good memory, white man.”
They nodded that they understood the assignments.
“Try not to get that table shot up again. I can’t afford to keep replacing things you get full of bullet holes,” Sam, the owner of the furniture store, said. “Next time I’ll charge you for the replacement,” he joked.
“I’ll keep the M-16 in reserve and provide the beer while we wait on the cops,” Chuck said.
“Typical officer, making sure us grunts take the brunt of the fighting,” Sam slapped him on the back.
“Hey, I’m providing the beer. What else could you ask for?” He said to laughter all around.
“Listen up,” one man said and rushed over to the front door.
“That car came to a sudden stop outside your place. Not a good sign this late at night,” said the other Indian.
“Get to your positions,” Chuck ordered.
“I think we have men coming to relieve you of your package,” Sam called from his perch on the stairs. He looked out the window as he yelled this. “I count three.”
Chuck dialed Eddie.
“Men are coming to take the drugs,” he said when Eddie answered.
“On my way,” came the reply.
Eddie speed dialed Ramon.
“Do nothing at McGregor’s place,” he said when Ramon answered. “I’ll be there in less than ten minutes, and he will turn them over to me. He certainly has more guns in his house ready to defend the product. No need for guns as I’ll make the drugs disappear when I get them. Makes it cleaner. Understand?”
“So you’ll pick the package up and hand it over? Will you be able to cover that?”
“I’ll take care of it. You’ll get them without using violence. It will take a little time but it will be clean and no intensive police manhunts for you after you attack McGregor. Remember, he’s a favorite of the Captain, and the man will use every asset to hunt for you. This way you get what you want without the heat. Call your men off. Chuck just called me, and he knows there’re men at his place who are coming for the drugs. I heard other voices in the background, so he has more guns. Got it?”
“Okay, but I had better get them soon. I’ll call my men and tell them to stand down.”
“Do it now,” Eddie ended the call.
You’ll get yours soon, raced through his mind. He needed a new plan. This promotion to lieutenant, only hours old, offered him a new avenue to reach his goal.
His dilemma on which of his two courses of action to take loomed foremost in his mind. What to do?
He needed to decide, and soon.
11
Chuck rushed over to the window on the ground floor to take a peek. Three men deliberately and carefully approached his front door. One man raced to reach the lead man and put his hand on his shoulder. They halted, and he took the cell phone handed to him by the man who stopped them. After a few seconds, the apparent leader motioned with his hands for them to get back in the car. They returned to their vehicle, slammed the car doors and sped away.
Chuck’s phone vibrated, and he saw it was Eddie.
“I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Is everything okay?”
“Weird happening. The guys, who looked like they were here to take the drugs, suddenly stopped and retreated. They have left the area,” Chuck said. “No hurry. See you in a few.”
Chuck called the men together. “Now we can have that beer. The bad guys are gone, and the cop will be here soon to take this thing away and out of my life. I appreciate y’all coming over.”
He opened the fridge to provide the beers and handed one to each man. They chugged the beers.
“We gotta go. Wives are waiting. Thanks for the beer,” said the friends of Sam and waved back on reaching the door and left.
“Come on, Sam. One more,” Chuck said.
“One more,” his friend replied and returned to the dining room table.
They sat in the dining room after they heard the car with the Indians depart. Quiet returned to the area, and they sat in chairs at the table with their beers. Their weapons ended up resting on top of the table.
“Great of you to come. Thanks,” Chuck said.
“You got this place looking good. I love what you have done with it.”
“You sold me the furniture and Emma did the planning. So, how is your furniture business doing?”
“Great, and my sister is doing all the paperwork to keep us on track while I do most of the sales and delivery. She helps out sometimes in many areas. I believe she is a little lonely as she hasn’t had a date in months.”
Chuck remembered Sam left the Army to take over the family business after the death of his father. He had one of the premier furniture stores in the area. He and his sister ran the business together.
“You did a great job in replacing this table. The other one had too many bullet holes in it, even for a modern look. You still haven’t sent me the bill for it.” He checked his watch. A few minutes remained before he expected Eddie to arrive.
The parrot started to squawk.
With no warning or prior sound the front door burst open.
Over and over the bird bellowed before the loud sound pierced the air as the door flew inward. Then came the sound of gunfire erupting as men plowed through the entrance.
Sam and Chuck both grabbed the weapons on the table on the first hearing the parrot’s first screams as a hail of bullets flew over them. They dived to the floor, and as they did so, they pulled the table over. Most of the bullets impacted on the upturned tabletop. Their quick actions and reflexes had saved their lives as rounds continued to slam into the wood table. When the salvo stopped, while the men firing tried to reload, both men jumped up firing their weapons at the attackers. Two went down.
The noise of their weapons firing pierced Chuck’s ears like being inside a bass drum. He heard the glass behind him shatter and explode outwards. The acoustics in this old building amplified the sound and reverberate it back into his ears. The smell of gunpowder filled the air.
Chuck saw more men coming through the door over the bodies of the two fallen attackers. He realized they would overrun his position in a matter of seconds.
“We need to get moving,” he said as Sam already started toward the boat dock door as new assailants rushed in.
Sam fired on the run at one the men in the door. When they shifted their aim to him, Chuck was able to rise and use the M-16 on full automatic. On the first rounds spewing forth from his weapon the attackers fell back, recovered and moved forward again. The intruder’s handgun was no match for his automatic.
Chuck and Sam continued to fire toward the men in the doorway. Suddenly they tried to retreat. Sam still managed to wound one of them. Outside they picked up on why the men were trying to rush away. Police sirens blasted from somewhere nearby. The sound of the approaching sirens caused the attackers to retreat, leaving their fallen comrades.
At long last, the bird ceased the incessant squawking.
“Damn, I’ll need a new dining room table again,” Chuck said observing the bullet holes in the wood.
“Tomorrow, I’ll have a special sale just for you.”
“You mean double the usual price?” Chuck smiled. “You know, those guys don’t look like they are from around here. Could they be from the islands, Jamaica, Bermuda or the Bahamas? I’m only guessing based on the nationality of the man killed in my boat dock.”
The conversation stopped when they saw Eddie enter through the busted open door. He stepped over the two bodies.
“About time the cavalry got here,” Chuck greeted him with a smile. “What took you so long?”
“My firs
t day as a lieutenant and you give me this mess to clean up?”
“You missed all the fun,” Sam said. “I have not been here. That’s a fact, right? See y’all.” Sam waved as he reached for the door.
Eddie nodded that he understood.
Chuck kept watching Sam leave as Eddie turned toward him. Chuck watched Sam reach down and grab the cell from one of the men on the floor and continue out the front door.
“Now give me a full report of what happened here. I’ll have to do the paperwork, starting with calling the coroner for those two. We’ll have to ID them and find out as much as we can on them. I promise I’ll keep you informed.”
“Look at my home. More bullet holes. Your captain wants me to help him in the drug trafficking. See what happens when I even think about helping.”
“You think you got problems. I saw reporters arriving as I did. I have to go out and face them. It’ll be like walking over alligators. You have to do it very carefully.” Eddie rose to leave on that note.
Chuck realized he now had a stake in what would happen. They had shot up his house, and he couldn’t let that go. Nobody did that to him and got off scot free. The one problem he needed to solve rose to his mind.
What to do?
12
Earlier in the day, before getting the call from Chuck about the drugs at his place, Lieutenant Eddie Gordon took his seat behind his new desk on the first day of his new promotion, a definite upgrade which came with the new rank. The office wasn’t much, but at least it possessed a semblance of privacy. The door didn’t exist because of the “open door policy” of the previous occupant. That man had functioned as a mole for the human trafficking and sex trade organization until a short time ago when the brothels were destroyed.
