by JC Kane
“You need a team of bodyguards to apologize?” Green asked as he kept his weapon pointed at the uninvited visitors.
“Just a precaution. That’s all.” Lee placed his hands on the shoulders of the two guys standing in front of him. He gently moved them out of the way so he could go inside. “You guys wait outside. It’s fine.” His guys reluctantly walked away as Lee slowly entered the clubhouse.
Green kept his handgun pointed at Lee as Lee walked forward with his hands raised in the air. “Can you lower your gun?” Lee asked. “Like I said, I would like to apologize.”
“You could’ve just sent a text,” Green said.
“I think you deserve better than that.”
Green lowered his gun and shoved it into his waistband. He directed his attention to his guys. “You guys keep an eye on his bodyguards outside.”
Green looked at Lee. “I’m waiting.”
“I’m sorry I yelled at you the other day. I lost it. I shouldn’t have. It was disrespectful. I apologize. Okay?”
“Is that it?” Green asked.
“What else do you want? I apologized, okay?”
“Well, if that’s it, I guess you can leave now.”
“Come on, don’t be an asshole,” Lee said. “I’m trying to make peace here.”
“Well, you’re doing a hell of a job.”
“Look, you need me,” Lee said. “If you want to keep making tons of money, if your guys want to keep making money, you need me.”
Green laughed. “I have plenty of money. It doesn’t take much to maintain my lifestyle.”
“Yes, you have some money, a little bit of money, but people always need more money. You can never have enough money. You obviously don’t have enough money to fix this place up. It’s a dump.”
“This is how we like it,” Green said.
“Come on. You’re not serious. This place is a shithole.” Lee looked around the room. It certainly lacked beauty, but if they fixed it up it would only be trashed at the next party anyway. It was better to keep it the way it was.
“Bruce is moving on,” Lee said. “I don’t know if he told you yet, but he wants to get out of the drug business and he wants to do other things. Boring things, but hey, it’s his loss. Even though Bruce is leaving, I want you to keep working for me. I can pay you a lot more money as we expand into new markets.”
“I never worked for you. I thought I made that clear. I’m an independent contractor and I don’t want a boss, especially you.”
“Fine, I want to pay you more money, as an independent contractor. I’d like to pay you to eliminate some of the problems as we expand. That’s what you guys like to do, right? Cut people’s heads off. Cut their arms off. Intimidate people. Get rid of people. I will pay you to do what you love.”
Green looked at Lee. He had learned a lot about Lee over the years. He was charming when he wanted to be, but it was all for show. Once Lee got what he wanted, a switch flipped in his brain and Mister Nice Guy was gone. Lee was the worst kind of sociopath - the kind that didn’t hesitate to commit violent acts to further his agenda. It didn’t matter how trivial the issue was, Lee had to win at all costs and he didn’t care who he had to hurt to ensure his victory. There was no distinction between friends and enemies. There was only what needed to be done to win.
“Not interested,” Green said. “The truth is, I don’t like you. Not even a little bit. There’s no way I would work with you.”
Lee’s jaw tightened. “What if I hire someone else to be the middleman so we never have to communicate? I could even let you choose the person.”
Green smiled. “That would make it easier. But still, not interested.”
“Look, we really want your crew to help us out with the transition we’re making right now. How about you help us out, just for a little while, while we adjust our process? We’ll pay you based on the assignment. Make it super-easy. You could walk away anytime you wanted.”
“You want us to do your dirty work for you?”
Lee smiled. “That’s what you like, right? If you don’t want money, then you must want something else. What else do you want?”
“We have plenty of opportunities to get our hands dirty. We’re not really looking for more.”
“Well, what about the other guys in the club? Maybe they want the money? We could hire some of them to work special assignments for us. Is it okay if I ask them directly?”
“I can speak for them. We do things together or not at all. In this case, it’s not at all.”
“You tell me how we can make it work,” Lee said. “How can I get you to keep doing what you guys do best?”
Green turned around and thought about it. He had no desire to work with Lee, but he loved seeing him beg. “I do have one idea.”
“What is it?”
“I will take over the business and you can work for me. I’d be happy to pay you per assignment, when I needed your help. I’m sure we could find something for you to do, like clean the clubhouse, bring us coffee in the morning, you know, things you’re qualified to do.”
Lee smiled even though he didn’t find it the least bit funny. “You know, if you aren’t on my side, then there’s a good chance that you’ll be in my way. Things end badly for people that get in my way.”
Green pushed his face closer to Lee. “I wonder how that would go? If I got in your way?”
“It wouldn’t be pretty. That’s for sure.”
Lee reached towards his back pocket. Green quickly pulled out his Colt handgun and pointed it at Lee’s head. Lee slowly moved his hand up and showed Green his smartphone. “Relax. Just making a phone call.”
Lee turned around and walked towards the door. “I’ll make sure that everyone knows you are no longer part of my team. I can’t protect you anymore.”
Green had to laugh at that comment. The Two Zero Five certainly didn’t need protection and Lee would be the last person that could actually provide it, if they did.
Bruce waved to Lee and Jesus. “Good luck with your transition.”
Chapter 17
Lee, Jesus, and two members of Lee’s executive protection team walked from Lee’s office in the Heavenlee Holdings office building to the large conference room located inside the building. Lee and Jesus sat down at the massive marble conference table and watched a young, bubbly girl arrange an assortment of food and coffee on the side table against the wall. The two members of Lee’s security team scanned the parking lot and surrounding fence for any signs of unusual activity. Nothing out of the ordinary.
A Cadillac ATS-V pulled into the parking lot in front of the building and the security team verified that it was Francisco Carbajal. They showed him where to park his car in the back of the building, two spots away from Lee’s Rolls Royce Phantom Drophead Coupe. Three members of Lee’s executive protection team escorted Francisco inside to meet with Lee.
Francisco Carbajal worked for the Sinaloa drug cartel out of Culiacán, Mexico. He was a high-ranking lieutenant responsible for all business in the San Francisco Bay Area. If anything drug-related happened in the Bay Area, he knew about it.
Lee’s security team brought Francisco to the conference room where Lee and Jesus were waiting for him. Francisco watched three members of Lee’s security team walk away towards the parking lot. Francisco then looked back at Lee and Jesus. “Seems like a lot of security for a friendly meeting. Should I call for my SWAT team?”
“No, no, no, no.” Lee said. “This is definitely a friendly meeting. But, this is my place of business, so I like to have plenty of security around, just in case. I always try to err on the side of caution when it comes to security. And, this security is also to ensure your protection, of course. When I host an important guest in my place of business, I owe them a responsibility. In our business, you have to be prepared for the unexpected.” Lee extended his arm towards the chair across from him. “Come and have a seat. Enjoy some food and drinks.”
Francisco grabbed a raspberry danish and
sat down at the table.
“It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Leonardo Giordano. You can call me Lee. And you know Jesus Acosta, right?”
Francisco pointed at Jesus. “Ah, Jesus Acosta. Antonio told me good things about you. I’m here today because Antonio vouched for you. You spent some time together in San Quentin, yes?”
“That’s right,” Jesus said. “Antonio helped me out when I needed him and I will always be grateful for that.”
“So, what am I doing here today?” Francisco asked. “What is this all about? I know who you are. I know you do business with Severo Moreno. Severo has ties to LFM (La Familia Michoacán). I’m not exactly the guy to ask for a favor under the circumstances.”
Francisco was a high-ranking member of the Sinaloa cartel, the most powerful drug trafficking organization in the world. Their primary expertise was smuggling drugs from Mexico into the United States. They used tunnels, vehicles, airplanes, boats, submarines, people, drones, and anything else they could dream up.
Severo Moreno, on the other hand, Lee’s current supplier, had connections to La Familia Michoacán (LFM), Los Zetas cartel and the notorious street gang MS-13. While LFM had mostly disbanded years ago, they still had a loose affiliation with Los Zetas cartel, which was a fierce rival to the Sinaloa cartel. Severo had supplied Bruce and Lee their cocaine for years. Although Severo wasn’t an official member of Los Zetas, or LFM, he had their full support if he needed it.
“Well, I’ll get straight to the point,” Lee said. “Right now, our operation is limited to California, mostly northern and central California. We sell cocaine, that’s it. But, Jesus and I would like to expand into heroin and meth. Unfortunately, those drugs are hard to come by, apparently. Our supplier, Severo Moreno, can’t get us what we need, so we’re looking for someone that can. That’s where you come in.”
“You want me to supply you with heroin and meth?” Francisco asked. “You buy your cocaine from Severo Moreno, a man that works with my competitor, and you’re asking me to supply you with heroin and meth? Does that seem strange to you?”
“No, it doesn’t seem strange to me,” Lee said. “It seems quite normal. The tides can shift very quickly in our business. You have to adapt to the way things are. Some people die. Some people go to prison. Some people move up. Jesus and I are moving up and we’re offering you an opportunity to move up with us.” Lee smiled.
Francisco laughed. “You’re offering me an opportunity to move up? It sounds more like you’re desperate for product and you want me to help you.”
“Do I look like a desperate man?” Lee asked. “I simply want to make a business arrangement with a man who likes money and is good at what he does. If you don’t want me to pay you millions of dollars in exchange for certain products, then I’ll just make an arrangement with someone else. No problem. No hard feelings. But my guess is that you would like to make more money.”
“Why me? Why not have Severo’s connections supply you with everything you need? You know him. You have a relationship. Why come to me?”
“He’s having problems getting what we need. He claims that heroin and meth are in such high demand that they’re hard to come by, at least in his small network. Apparently, his connections don’t run as deep as we thought they did.”
Francisco nodded. He understood everything. “Ah, I see. Severo told you he can’t get the product and now you want to go around him. Are you willing to abandon Severo and buy everything from us? Or do you want him to continue supplying you with cocaine?”
“If you’re willing to work with us, and give us a good deal, then we’re interested. We’d like to buy everything from you, including our cocaine. We think that with our process and our local infrastructure, we’ll be able to sell a lot of product. More money for us and more money for you.”
Francisco looked at Jesus. “Do you know what this would mean? Severo will not be happy about this. I don’t think he’ll go away quietly. Plus, we already have people selling in this area.”
“We understand the consequences,” Jesus said. “It means we’re all going to make a lot more money. Severo won’t be a problem. We have people in place to handle things like this and anyone that you’re currently working with, we’d be happy to work with them.”
“Well, shit, you sound pretty confident,” Francisco said. “What kind of weight do you do every month?”
“We do roughly eighty kilos every month,” Lee said. “And we should be able to sell a lot of heroin and meth as soon as we can get our hands on it.”
“And who knows how fast we can grow from there,” Jesus said. “We are definitely looking to expand the other product lines as quickly as possible.”
Francisco grabbed another danish from the plate in front of him and took a bite. “Damn, this is good.”
“We make all of this in our factory just a couple miles down the road. I’d be happy to give you a tour if you’d like.”
“Well, it’s an interesting idea, but if I removed Severo from the equation myself, why would I need you at all?”
“Here’s something else to think about,” Lee said. “One of the unique things about our operation is that we have a very close relationship with the Two Zero Five Motorcycle Club. These guys are brutal, man. Some very violent people in the Two Zero Five. They’re based right here in San Jose, so if we go to war, if we have problems, with anyone, we have a very strong group of people willing to do whatever’s necessary to eliminate those problems. We also have our Oceanic Bakery warehouse and eight retail stores in the Bay Area. We have a very solid system that has been tested and improved over time. Just something to think about.”
Francisco stood up. “How soon are you looking to make this change?” Francisco was interested in making money for his bosses, and himself. It would be a big win if he could get the Oceanic Bakery network and the Two Zero Five army. That was much better than the alternative - going to war with them.
“The sooner, the better,” Lee said. “Give us a couple days notice so we can make the necessary adjustments and we should be good.”
“You know I can’t make the call on this without talking to my people. I’ll tell my boss what you told me and I’ll give you an answer as soon as I can.”
“I appreciate you taking the time to meet with us,” Lee said.
Francisco stood and walked away. He stopped just before the door and turned around. “Thanks for the danish.”
Chapter 18
Vallejo wasn’t known as the safest city in California. In fact, it was high on the list of California’s most dangerous cities. Vallejo was an industrial city with a lot of crime and that’s why members of the Two Zero Five liked it, the cops had better things to do than pull over bikers just for the hell of it. The cops in Vallejo had real crimes to deal with.
Grinchy’s was a bar in Vallejo popular with the biker crowd. It was a rough place, a dive, and the owner was a good friend of Green and other members of the Two Zero Five. It was a friendly place to hang out on the weekends if you were a member of the Two Zero Five or one of their friends. In addition to the parties, they also held Confederation of Club meetings at Grinchy’s.
The Confederation of Clubs was an organization created to help protect biker’s rights. Although a small percentage of bikers were, in fact, criminals, they didn’t like being pulled over just because they were members of a motorcycle club. They didn’t like police officers searching their belongings without probable cause. They especially didn’t like being pulled over when the police did have a good reason to pull them over. That was the worst of all. It was important for club members to know their rights when they encountered the police, regardless of whether they were breaking the law or not.
The Confederation of Clubs was broken down into different chapters. The East Bay chapter had a meeting every month and the leaders of the various motorcycle clubs in the San Francisco East Bay area would represent their club at the meeting, share relevant information, and pass the learnings on to the r
est of their crew when they went back to the clubhouse.
On this particular Friday night, representatives from the Hells Angels, Henchmen, Two Zero Five, Mad Miles, and several others were attending this month’s event at Grinchy’s in Vallejo. With that much testosterone in one place, there was always a little bit of tension. These clubs didn’t play nice together, but they came together once a month to share legal information and help one another avoid jail. The one thing that could bring these clubs together was the unified fight against corrupt law enforcement officers they encountered on a regular basis.
Bruce Kennedy was one of two attorneys at the Confederation meeting. There was always an attorney present at these meetings to prevent the police, or any government agency, from claiming that the whole thing was simply a criminal conspiracy by members of an outlaw motorcycle gang. Every Confederation meeting had an attorney present to ensure no laws were broken, facilitate discussion of current legal issues, and maintain some semblance of order, when possible.
Bruce had his own agenda for this event. He was looking for Old Goat and he needed help finding him. He had personally called representatives from several of the major clubs to make sure they attended this meeting, and Green did the same thing. It was a packed house. Double the normal size of the meeting. There was probably more than a million dollars worth of metal parked in front of the bar. That was sure to get some attention from the local law enforcement, even in Vallejo.
This wasn’t a secret meeting. When a hundred bikers rode their obnoxiously loud motorcycles to the same location, at the same time, it was not a subtle thing. Cops noticed. Residents noticed. Driver’s noticed. Motorcycles filled the parking lot and the street in front of Grinchy’s. One unlucky prospect from each club sat outside to guard the bikes. There was always the possibility that someone might want to take their anger out on an individual’s motorcycle, and that was a big no-no. Their bikes were tied to their identity. If it was destroyed, their identity was destroyed along with it.
