by Jack Davis
Diamond’s face scrunched up, as he tried to understand what he had just been told. “Our stores won’t lose any money?”
“No,” said Alvaro.
“I don’t believe it,” said Lupe leaning forward. “I can go to,” he hesitated as he tried to think of a name, “Carat Jewelry every day and buy a diamond watch, and as long as my friend Jaime does what the credit card boss tells them to, Jaime won’t have to pay for the lost watches? That’s bullshit. Bullshit!”
Lupe leaned back on the couch and crossed his arms.
Alvaro turned Lupe’s logic against him. He turned to his antagonist. “Lupe, you are right. If stores get hit too often, the credit card company will charge them and take away their credit card machine. That is why I need all the Kings’ stores; I can spread out the charges and make sure that we don’t go to any one store more than once every three or four months.”
Diamond raised his eyebrows, apparently seeing the sense in Alvaro’s argument. He looked at the couch. Carlo shrugged in agreement. Lupe, arms now even more tightly crossed said, “No. I don’t like it.”
Alvaro went for the weak link. “Carlo, let me show you it works in your area. After that we can expand,” said Alvaro, looking from one face to the next, stopping on Diamond’s.
Diamond nodded approval. “That makes sense.”
Alvaro finished another swig of beer. “Jefe, I said I need credit cards from the other areas? But it’s important that they not be taken in violent crimes. The—”
“Now you’re telling the other captains what crimes their Kings can commit,” questioned Lupe. He stood, then with authority based on seniority and rank, said, “You don’t tell me what I can or can’t do. Understand?”
“Lupe, I would never try and tell you, or any of the other captains what to do. I’m just saying, if you give me a credit card that was taken in a violent crime, I can’t use it.”
“Why not? A credit card is a credit card. It doesn’t know who stole it,” said Lupe.
“We all know the Mexican cops don’t care about someone being pickpocketed, or a purse snatching, even most murders as long as it is one of us.” Alvaro looked from Diamond to the couch. “But if we use a card that is tied back to a murder of a non-gang member or worse, a tourist, even the Mexico City Police will have to look into that, especially if it is an American. That they will investigate and see what happened with the card after the murder. If my Kings ordered things on one of those cards, the cops could track the package to where it was sent, and maybe be at the address when we try to pick it up. No one wants that.”
Alvaro could see in Lupe’s eyes that what he said made sense. The older man sat back in his seat, a scowl still imprinted on his face.
Alvaro looked at Diamond.
“I understand,” said Diamond as he took a huge bite of food. He held up the money again. “Thirty percent of all credit card money comes here,” he said, food spilling from the corner of his mouth. “You sure you don’t want to eat?”
It didn’t take long for Diamond to be impressed with the amount of money Alvaro was producing every month. With one third the territory and no hard drug money, he had the same income as prior to going to prison. Effectively, Alvaro had set up a small monopoly with this new type of crime. No one else knew enough to challenge him.
The one time Diamond tried to make Alvaro explain it, he became so confused that after just a minute, he laughed. “I don’t care, I don’t care.” Raising his voice on the second chorus. “Just keep the money coming.”
Between the new source of income, single-handedly escaping Philippe’s trap, and demonstrating his loyalty while in prison, Alvaro had more than proven himself. In the process he had catapulted past his rival in the hierarchy of the Mexico City Latin Kings.
While Philippe had gained some income, he had lost standing in the Kings. Alvaro had tied his adversaries’ hands. Both men knew Diamond wouldn’t allow anything to disrupt the new “plastic money” profits and that no one could replace Alvaro.
Philippe Vasquez had been neutered…almost literally.
20 | Neutered
Mexico City, 10/26/08
Alvaro watched Lupe hurry to his car and tear out of the Store’s parking lot. The initial plan was to wait a reasonable amount of time after the departure to avoid anyone putting two and two together. Another minute in his sweltering car, and realization that neither Diamond nor Carlo could count to four, made Alvaro realize it was safe to continue with the next part of his plan.
“Varo, what the hell’s goin’ on?” Diamond shouted. “What’s Jesus doing beating the shit out of one of Philippe’s lieutenants…at Lupe’s cantina?”
Since Diamond was starting the encounter confused, Alvaro could dispense with that prerequisite. He could start by answering the question, and lead into another. “Philippe’s lieutenant gave Jesus another bad credit card and one of my men got arrested and beaten for it. Jesus is paying him back.”
“What? You said that was okay?”
Alvaro knew Diamond’s response to his next statement was crucial. He set it up with a look of incongruity. “Yes, Jefe, I thought that’s what you’d want.”
“Huh?”
“This is the second time in three months that Philippe’s men have disobeyed your direct order.” Alvaro looked at Paco as if for confirmation, then back at Diamond. “I thought you’d want him to be taught a lesson.”
“Yeah, but, but I—”
Alvaro cut his boss off to fan the coals, “This is causing serious problems with the credit card money.”
Diamond’s expression changed from anger and confusion to anger and a twinge of concern.
Alvaro didn’t want his boss to spend any more time on that thought. “Jefe, I don’t understand what’s going on. You were clear to all the captains that they couldn’t pass me credit cards taken from murders. I was here. I heard you. Everyone heard you.” A little more oxygen for the fire, “Philippe sat right there,” said Alvaro as he pointed to a chair at the end of the room.
“I don’t understand how this could happen, twice.” Alvaro shook his head as if in confusion. He could tell Diamond was in a spin. The older man’s bushy eyebrows seemed to merge as his forehead furrowed.
“Philippe gave you a bad number?” Diamond asked weakly.
“One of the numbers last week was taken from a businessman in El Centro who was knifed. My guy got caught trying to use it. He took a bad beating and is sitting in jail right now. It’ll cost me a lot to get him out. This is the second time I’ve gotten bad numbers from Philippe’s men.”
Diamond continued to frown, open-mouthed, until Alvaro helped him out. “Two months ago, remember he gave me the MasterCard from a tourist who’d been killed in Cancun? My guy is doing two years for just trying to use that card number.”
“Ohhh, yeah, I forgot about that. You’re right.” Diamond’s face began to redden.
Alvaro wasn’t ready for his boss to lose control yet. There was more kindling to be put on the fire before the conflagration could be let loose to scorch the earth. “Jefe, can I have a drink?”
“Sure. Yeah, you want a beer?”
“No, I need some of the hard stuff,” said Alvaro as he sat down.
“You okay,” asked Diamond, a genuine concern showing.
“Yeah, I’m just confused and…I’m just confused.”
“What? We’ll make Philippe’s lieutenant pay,” said Diamond as he handed Alvaro a bottle. “Don’t worry. And I agree with what you did. He should get the shit kicked out of him.”
“It’s your bottle, Jefe, you first.”
Alvaro watched as his boss nodded and then took a swig of tequila.
Excellent. Flame, oxygen, and now alcohol. Things were moving along nicely.
Alvaro took the bottle, put it to his lips but before taking a drink, lowered it slightly. “Jefe, you were crystal clear about the credit cards. Philippe was here and heard you. Either he didn’t tell his men, or his men said fuck Diamond.�
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He handed the bottle back. As his boss took another drink, Alvaro continued, “I can’t believe his men would disobey him. Kings don’t disobey orders.”
“They’d better not,” said Diamond in solidarity as he handed the bottle back.
Alvaro again put it to his mouth but lowering it just before drinking. “No King disobeys orders. They know the consequences.” He raised the bottle, then lowered it. “If they aren’t disobeying orders, then Philippe didn’t tell them what you said, but why?” He handed the bottle back to Diamond who took another drink.
Diamond’s face was less red, but his eyes showed he was focused.
“I know he hates me; he had me sent to prison to get me out of the way,” Alvaro voiced this truth for the first time in the Store. He saw the recognition in Diamond’s face as he continued, “but he knows that fuckin’ with the credit cards doesn’t just hurt me, it hurts you too.”
Alvaro fixed Diamond’s gaze. The older man took another drink and a nasty scowl came across his face as he pulled the bottle away. There, the last log was on the fire. Now to use the bellows to get things red-hot.
“Does he just want part of the credit card profits? Do you think that’s it?” Alvaro looked at Paco, figuring it couldn’t hurt to have his confusion level pegged too.
“I, I don’t know,” said the man on the lumpy couch.
Alvaro shook his head vigorously. “That can’t be it. Philippe had the largest territory even before he took mine. He makes plenty of money. Shit, he has twice as many men as any other captain. He almost has as many men as, well, you, Jefe.”
Diamond took a huge drink, then threw the bottle against the wall. “You leave Philippe to me.”
Philippe’s demeanor told Alvaro his adversary had no idea what he was walking into when he entered Diamond’s office. The stocky man with slicked back black hair was joking with Lupe as he sauntered through the door. When he saw Alvaro, he sneered. “Jesus is gonna fuckin’ pay! Nobody touches my—” was all he was able to say before a nicely intoxicated Diamond set upon him.
“I fuckin’ warned you. I fuckin’ warned you! Don’t fuck up the credit card money.”
Alvaro saw Philippe shift his attention, then make the verbal mistake of addressing his angry boss in too informal a manner, “Diamond, I—”
“Jefe. Fucking Jefe. I’m in charge.” Diamond came around his desk. “You do what I say.” He emphasized the word I by poking his finger in Philippe’s chest. “Your men do what I say.” Another finger poke.
Alvaro could see that the physical nature of the confrontation was making Philippe angry. His breathing was deep and deliberate, but he was maintaining control. “Jefe, I, I’m sorry. I. We. We didn’t know the credit card was hot. He,” Philippe looked at Alvaro, “has to expect this sometimes.”
Alvaro saw his boss losing momentum. “No one else has given me a bad credit card, but you’ve given me two, in a couple months.”
That was all Diamond needed. “I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses. You,” finger now in Philippe’s face, “are gonna personally make sure Alvaro doesn’t get any more hot cards from your crew, and one of your men is gonna confess to the murder that Alvaro’s man is doin’ time for.”
Alvaro could only assume that Diamond’s finger had distracted Philippe enough that he reacted to the second demand without thinking. “What?”
The questioning tone, compounded by the excess volume enraged Diamond. He grabbed Vasquez by the testicles and spoke deliberately, “If you ever try to set anyone of my Kings up again, I will feed you to the crocodiles.” He squeezed. “Do you understand now?”
Philippe winced, grunted, and nodded.
“Get the fuck outta here.”
Diamond released his grip and his victim doubled over, coughing. Vasquez shuffled gingerly out the door holding his crotch.
21 | Fresh Numbers
Mexico City, 11/13/08, 0143 hours
Early morning calls had long ago stopped startling Alvaro. He gave one long full body stretch before picking up the phone at the edge of the bed. “Wait,” he said as he slipped from the covers and walked quietly out of the bedroom. Once in the living room with the door closed, he said, “Okay.”
“Varo, I’m sorry to bother you but we have a problem. We need to talk in person.”
Jesus’s declaration caught Alvaro off guard, but he recovered quickly. “The park? In thirty minutes?”
“I have to pick up Paco. Better make it forty-five.”
Shortly after two a.m., the three, flanked by two of Jose’s men providing security, met at a small park north of Alvaro’s condominium.
After greetings all around, Jesus started, “Jefe, I told you Cervoni got arrested last Wednesday. The next night our guys saw more cops at the dumpsters for other car companies.”
“You think your guy talked,” asked Alvaro.
“No, that’s not it. The next day, Paco did some checking with the cops.” Jesus looked at Paco who picked up the story.
“Jefe, the cops said the credit card companies were able to pinpoint the rental companies at the airport as the place where all their problems started. The US federales got involved and that’s why they’re sitting on the dumpsters waiting to arrest us.”
“Shit,” said Alvaro.
“It’s worse,” said Jose. “The cop says the rental companies are going to have to shred all their copies. So even when the cops leave, there won’t be any contracts for us to take.”
“This is bad.” Alvaro ran both hands through his hair and sat on a bench. “Even if we do find other places to get contracts, when the credit card companies see the pattern, they’ll shut them down too.”
Alvaro closed his eyes momentarily, the cool night air helping him think. We need another source of numbers whose owners don’t know their credit cards have been stolen. And we need it fast. That means only one person.
“Okay, have the men avoid the rental car dumpsters. Send them to the high-end electronics rent-a-centers for now. I’ll find other sources.”
When Alvaro had first talked to Tejada about credit card fraud, there was so much information that he couldn’t process all of it. Overwhelmed, Alvaro only focused on what he thought was the most important and easiest to learn. Alvaro picked up quickest on what he was familiar with and focused on what he understood. That was the “hard copies” of documents that contained credit card numbers. These were tangible; his Kings could put their hands on them. He could count them and know how many he got each week or month. He could explain to his men what to do and what they were looking for.
Everything in Alvaro’s career up to that point was tangible. Drugs, gambling, and protection schemes produced tangible results. Through every step in the process there was something physical that could be touched and counted. That was how Alvaro liked things, simple and relatable. So, while Tejada had mentioned other sources of credit card numbers, Alvaro hadn’t paid much attention. Now, with all his fresh numbers cut off and a sporadic flow of compromised numbers coming in from a source that was suspect, if not hostile, Alvaro recalled Tejada telling him about another source of numbers, something about the internet.
The morning after the meeting in the park, Tejada was walked to the prison’s second-floor bathroom and given a cell phone. It was 1:50 p.m., and he was told he would be getting a call at 2 p.m. He had gone through the procedure dozens of times in the past, but it still made him a little nervous. He knew the range of activities that took place in bathrooms throughout the prison. They were secluded areas that seemed to be off limits to the guards. Tejada had heard and seen enough to know that bathrooms were not places anyone wanted to go into alone or spend any more time than necessary; the horrible smell of feces and urine didn’t help either. Tejada wasn’t able to overcome the fears, the stench, or the flies as he waited for the call. At 2:05 p.m., the phone rang.
“Hola.”
“Hola. How are you doing,” asked Alvaro.
Tejada looked around b
efore he answered “Jefe, I need to get out soon. I’m desperate; I can’t stay here much longer. I can’t.” He started to cry.
“You have to be a man.” Alvaro’s voice was stern. “You fuckin’ cry in jail and someone will give you something to really cry about. Stop that shit right now.”
Tejada gulped as he tried to stop. He sniffled weakly.
Alvaro continued. “You cannot tell anyone—ANYONE! Your appeal is being heard next week. Your lawyer says things look good.”
Tejada was dumbfounded. “My appeal? My lawyer?” He didn’t have a lawyer, and he didn’t know anything about an appeal.
“I’ve had a lawyer working on your case for a while. You should know something within a few weeks.”
“Thank you, Jefe. Thank you. I can’t…I…” Tejada was on the brink of crying again, this time for a completely different reason.
“You must be a man and deal with everything for three more weeks at least,” said Alvaro “If you fuck up again, I’ll leave you in there to rot. Understand?”
Tejada was able to control himself. “Si, Jefe. Thank you. Thank you.”
“Now you need to teach me more. I need to find another source of fresh. The other isn’t going to work anymore.”
Tejada, slightly shocked, wanted to ask why or how, but correctly thought better of it. Less than a minute earlier, Alvaro had given him his life back, so now he didn’t hesitate a second to produce the Holy Grail of numbers.
“This is very complicated. You’ll need to meet MichaelTAA, but you can only meet him on the internet, never in person. He’ll give you everything you need.” Tejada repeated himself to emphasize the point. “It is complicated; I will need to write some things down for you. There are instructions along with dos and don’ts that are just as important.”
He paused before the perfect analogy came to him.
“It is like when I tried to come talk to you my first day in the prison. You know how I needed to learn about respect and the rules? Well, there are rules in here too. I will write everything down today. It will be ready for you tomorrow.”
