by David DeLee
“Javier,” Solis called out. “Move the car.”
His man hesitated but then reluctantly backed away, pocketing the small automatic while he returned to the Highlander. He waved to LaSala’s driver to back the town car up, too. “Move! Move!”
Once the town car backed down to the far end of the row, Javier waved at their own driver to move. Spinning the Highlander’s back wheels, the driver backed up, demonstrating his protest on Javier’s behalf. Solis and LaSala stepped out of the way, then walked the short distance away to the relocated vehicles, suspending their conversation.
The toplift pulled up to the last container in the row and amid a blare of warning bells lowered the container, dropping it next to Solis’s blue container.
LaSala and Solis silently watched him work.
With the container in place, the toplift backed up and retreated back to the yard tractor for another container.
LaSala said, “I have your money. I just can’t get my hands on it…on all of it…just yet.”
“When?”
“Any day now,” LaSala said. “A week at the outside.”
“And my product?” Solis said. “What of it while you sort out your…problem?”
“Leave it here. It’s safe. I’ll pay you a storage fee.”
Solis frowned and shook his head. “No. I want my money. Now.”
“You don’t trust me?” LaSala asked. “Raul would do this. No sweat.”
“I am not my brother,” Solis said. “I am not a fool, LaSala.”
“I’m giving you my word.”
“You gave Raul your word. You told him payment upon receipt. We have delivered. I want my money!”
“That’s the way you want it,” LaSala said, equally angry. “Then take your drugs back and do whatever the hell you want with them. The deal’s off. No fuss. No muss.”
Solis’s face flushed. “It is not that simple. There are costs, bribes paid, risks taken. Too much has already been paid.”
“I can give you the down payment.” LaSala again pointed toward the town car’s open trunk. “Then the rest—”
“No!”
Bannon smiled. “That’s our cue,” he said to Tara.
He emerged from the narrow gap between the two containers concealing them and walked toward the two men. “Perhaps I can help.”
Javier and Bonucci whipped out their guns, aiming them at Bannon and Tara as they approached. Bonucci snarled, “Bannon.”
“Who is this man?” Solis asked, “These people?”
“Relax,” LaSala said. “They work for me.”
Bannon let that go, for now.
“Where the hell have you been?” LaSala asked. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours.”
“I was getting this.” Bannon pulled his hand from his pocket. Bonucci and Javier tensed. He held the Aoi Ikimono keychain in the air.
After learning from Palmer on the sub-chaser what it actually was, Bannon returned to Meredith Palmer’s home in Amherst to retrieve the flash drive, given to her by Singleton with the rest of her son’s recovered things.
“What the hell is that?” LaSala asked.
Addressing Solis, Bannon said, “LaSala explained to you his problem. I’m the solution.”
Solis raised an eyebrow. “You are?”
“I am.”
“How so?” Solis asked.
“I have LaSala’s money right here.” Bannon pinched each end of the cartoon character and pulled it apart, exposing the silver USB connector end.
“The flash drive!” A grin split LaSala’s face. “You got it.” He held his hand out, opening and closing it like a kid reaching out for an offered candy. He even sounded like one. “Gimme.”
Bannon snapped his hand closed around the device. “Not so fast.”
“Bannon, what the hell are you trying to pull?” Bonucci took a step forward.
Tara took a step toward him. Bonucci visibly paled and backed away.
“How did you put it earlier,” Bannon asked. “I’m changing the structure of our deal.”
LaSala’s head looked like it was about to explode. “Bannon, you back-stabbing son of a—”
“Someone better start telling me what’s going on,” Solis said.
“LaSala’s money man got pinched by the local yakuza faction. The plan was to hold this individual hostage, along with this.” Bannon held up the flash drive again. “As leverage against LaSala.”
“What’s so important about that?”
“It contains all the information pertaining to LaSala’s finances. Every institution, every account, every login name and passcode. Whoever has this has access to the syndicate’s money. All of it.”
“Kwon was trying to hold my money for ransom,” LaSala said.
“In essence,” Bannon agreed, going on to explain. “But he wasn’t looking for a single, one-time payout. No, our friend Kwon was much greedier than that. His plan was to dole out LaSala’s money, make him borrow his own money, in exchange for control over the syndicate’s criminal enterprise. Maybe even take over completely.”
“Do you have my money?” Solis asked. “Or not?”
Bannon ignored the cartel leader’s question. “It was a good plan actually, except Kwon underestimated Billy Palmer’s loyalty or simply his pain threshold. Maybe the guy was just too damn stubborn. Either way he never gave up the flash drive.”
“How do we know that’s even the flash drive?” LaSala asked, getting suspicious, wondering if he was getting played. “Maybe Kwon’s still holding Palmer, still has the real flash drive. Maybe you’re just trying to scam us.”
Bannon pulled out his phone and called up the camera function. With a picture of Kwon duct taped to a chair and gagged, still on the sub-chaser, he tossed the phone to LaSala. “See for yourself.”
He looked at the picture, then grunted. “Don’t prove nothing. The drive could still be a fake.”
“Swipe through to the next picture.”
The picture was actually a video. Tara had taken it when Palmer revealed the flash drive was concealed inside the keychain character. “I recovered the keychain from his sunken boat,” Bannon said. “It was in police custody the whole time. We just never realizing it.”
“That’s great,” LaSala said. “You’ve got it. Now give it to me.”
“Not so fast.”
LaSala took a threatening step toward Bannon. “Oh, Bannon, don’t tell me you’re doing what I think you’re doing.”
Tara stepped forward, too. Her Sig out in one hand and the haladie in the other.
“Like I said,” Bannon said again. “Kwon’s plan was good. It was his execution that was lacking.”
“You’re going to be the one executed, you don’t give me that,” LaSala said without moving. His gaze locked on Tara.
“Can you pay me my money, or not?” Solis asked of Bannon, cutting LaSala out of the picture.
“Yes.”
“Then do we have a deal?” Solis waved a hand between himself and Bannon.
“Sure,” Bannon said.
If LaSala had been a cartoon character like Aoi Ikimono steam would’ve been coming out of his ears. “What are you going to do with four thousand kilos of cocaine, Bannon?”
“Don’t you worry,” Bannon said. “I’ve got that covered.”
“Javier, get the laptop,” Solis said. He looked from Bannon to LaSala. “I need to get out of here. You two can settle your squabble on your own time.”
At the Highlander they gathered around Javier who’d propped a laptop on the hood. He opened it and stepped back.
Solis handed Bannon a slip of paper. “Here is the banking information you need. Once I’ve verified you have successfully transferred seventy million dollars into that account, our business will be concluded.” He added, “And I can get out of this damn cold place.”
Bannon inserted the flash drive into the laptop’s USB port.
After securing the flash drive, Bannon had given it to Kayla to
work her magic.
With Palmer’s help, she’d worked through the encryptions and cracked open all the information the drive had to offer. The locations of LaSala’s offshore bank accounts and the amount of funds they held had just been the beginning. There was a treasure trove of information that would support criminal indictments that would tear LaSala’s operation apart, all the way down to his lowest associates.
For now, Bannon called up the banking account information and set about transferring the requested funds from various financial institutions—Palmer spread the funds out well—into Solis’s account. Seventy million dollars.
“Done,” Bannon said.
Solis stepped forward and tapped at the laptop’s keyboard. His face awash in blue light. “This will only take a minute to verify,” he said gleefully. They stood, waiting.
Then Solis smiled. “The deposits are verified. A pleasure doing business with you,” he said to Bannon. “Now, I’ve got a boat to catch.”
“Not just yet.” Bannon prevented him from taking the laptop. “I want to see the product.”
“We did this already,” Solis protested. “Talk with your,” he indicated LaSala, “partner. He verified the contents.”
“But I didn’t,” Bannon insisted. “And we’re not partners.”
“What do you think you’re doing, Bannon?” LaSala shook with rage. “You can’t move the drugs. You’ve got no infrastructure.”
“I told you, I’ve got that covered. Mr. Solis, the product?”
“Javier,” Solis called out.
His lieutenant tossed him the keys. He tossed them to Bannon. “Do whatever the hell you want.”
Bannon handed the keys to Tara.
She walked over to the container, unlocked the padlocks, pulled the heavy metal handles up, and open the container. She swung the doors open, filling the crisp cold air with the grating screech of metal once more.
“Um, Brice,” Tara said. “I think we have a problem.”
“What is it?” Bannon asked.
She swung the doors full open. “You better come see for yourself.”
Bannon gave Solis a dirty look then strolled toward Tara. Solis and LaSala tagged along behind him. When they reached the container, they stopped and stared.
The container. It was completely empty.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Inside the container, there was nothing. No drugs. No nothing. All the pallets were gone.
The only thing left at all inside was a single, torn burlap bundle, the tattered remains of a ripped plastic bag, and a smear of white powder on the floor.
“What is this?” Bannon demanded.
LaSala grabbed Solis by his coat and shook him. “Was this your plan all along? Rip me off?”
Javier raised his small automatic, but Tara already had him covered with her Sig. “Stand down.”
“I swear,” Solis said, looking appropriately bewildered. “I didn’t have anything to do with…why would I?”
“To get the money and keep the drugs,” Tara offered, tossing him a look over her shoulder while keeping her gun trained on Javier.
Solis snapped his head around. “Who asked you, puta?”
He slapped at LaSala’s grip. “Let go of me.”
“Easy,” Bannon warned.
“The money, Bannon.” LaSala indicated the laptop. “Reverse that transfer. Get my money back. Do something!”
“That won’t be necessary,” Bannon said calmly.
Shocked, LaSala said, “What do you mean?”
Solis slapped LaSala’s hands away. “You fool! The money!”
He stumbled away from LaSala, from the others, and raced back to the laptop. He spun it around on the hood, tapping furiously at the keys. “No. No. No!”
The others moved toward the Highlander, surrounding him.
“What’s the matter, Solis?” Bannon asked. His tone a cross between innocent and mocking.
“The money. It’s…it’s gone.”
“Gone?” LaSala said. “What do you mean, gone?”
Solis spun around, a wild look in his eyes. “Don’t you see, you idiot? The transfer. He reversed the transfer. He’s ripping us both off. The drugs and the money. It’s all gone.”
“No. I’ve got all your money. I don’t know what happened to the drugs,” he lied. “Like you said, I’ve got no way to move it. But the money. Thanks, boys.”
LaSala stared at Bannon. “What did you do?”
Javier and Bonucci had their guns drawn. By now, the others in the Highlander and the town car were out and standing by their open doors, guns pointed at the group.
Tara held her Sig out, alternately pointing it from Javier to Bonucci.
To Solis, Bannon said, “You might want to keep looking.”
Confused, Solis said, “Looking…for what?”
“Your other accounts.”
“My other…” Solis spun around and tapped at the keyboard more, stabbing at it. The impact of each strike got harder and harder.
Bannon explained. “Since I had some time once I had my hands on the flash drive, I had a friend of mine, a computer expert, tinker around with it a little. She installed a worm on the drive. Once Solis connected with his bank account, the worm went to work searching for any and all connected financial accounts. Once they were discovered, it was a simple matter to access them.”
“For what purpose?” Solis asked.
“To transfer everything into an account of my choosing.”
“From which accounts?” Solis asked, his voice weaker.
“All of them.”
“How much did you steal?” His swarthy skin paled.
“All of it,” Bannon said. To LaSala, he said, “Yours, too.”
LaSala was beet red. “I’ll kill you. I’ve got this whole place surrounded. I’ll kill you all.”
“As do I,” Solis added without much conviction.
“I wouldn’t suggest that,” Bannon said.
“Why not?” LaSala was nothing if not defiance.
“Because I’ve got two men covering every one of yours.” The voice came from the darkness between the containers from which Bannon and Tara had stepped out of earlier. Accented with a heavy brogue, Paddy Flanagan said, “With one word, I’ll kill ’em all.”
He emerged from the shadows, a big grin on his ruddy face.
“You,” LaSala said. “I should’ve known.” To Bannon, he said, “You’re in bed with him?”
Solis pulled a gun and grabbed LaSala, the person closest to him. He put the barrel of the gun to his head and took a step back. Javier moved with him.
“My money. I want my money back,” Solis said. “And the drugs. Or I’ll kill him.”
Bannon, Flanagan, and Tara exchanged looks.
Bannon shrugged.
Flanagan said, “Shoot him.”
“Yeah, go ahead. Kill him,” Bannon said.
“Bannon,” LaSala said, “You son of a—”
Sirens in the distance cut him off.
“But do it fast,” Bannon said, “Cops’ll be here any second.”
When no one moved, Bannon said, “What are you gonna do, Solis? Time’s running out. No one’s been hurt here. There’s no money. No drugs. No crimes committed by any of us as far as the police are concerned. We’ve got no reason to run. But you…”
“Your immigration status,” Tara said. “The outstanding warrants for your arrest here in the States. Murder, conspiracies, drug trafficking. The cops will love to grab you.”
“My drugs!” he demanded as the sirens grew louder. “What happened to my drugs?”
Bannon, Tara, and Flanagan exchanged looked. All three shrugged.
“If we don’t know, and you don’t know,” Bannon said. He stared at LaSala.
LaSala screamed. “You’re setting me up.”
Solis struggled with indecision. He tugged LaSala backward. He shouted to Javier. “Get the men to the boat. We’re getting out of here.”
Javier ran off.<
br />
Backing away, Solis said, “My brother will put a bounty on your heads for this. You’re all dead. All of you.”
“You really think Raul’s going to blame us when he hears what happened? When you tell him you lost all the cartels drugs and all its money? No.” Bannon shook his head. “I don’t think we’re the ones who have to worry.”
A large cabin cruiser pulled up to the dock. From the bow deck, Javier waved and shouted, “Jefe. Let’s go!”
The sirens were louder now and blue flashing lights reflected off the surrounding containers.
“The only chance you’ve got, Rafael,” Bannon said. “Is maybe you can get Vinnie to tell you what he did with the drugs.”
“Get him to give them back,” Tara added.
Solis pulled a struggling LaSala toward Javier and the waiting cabin cruiser.
“I don’t have the drugs!” LaSala shouted. “I’m getting ripped off here, too.”
When they reached the boat, Solis pushed LaSala over the boat’s railing. He stumbled, fell face to the deck where he was picked up by two of Solis’ men. They dragged him below deck.
LaSala screamed, “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all! Bonucci! Do something!”
His cries for help were drowned out by the roar of the cabin cruiser’s inboard motors and the police sirens almost upon them.
Bonucci turned to Flanagan. “What about my men?”
“Take ’em. Get outta here. Then wait to hear from me. We’ve got some reorganizing to do in this town.”
Bonucci nodded, stepped back. “Bannon. I gotta say, I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Cops are seconds away, Dom.” Bannon waved his hand, shooing him away.
He took off running. Flanagan, Bannon, and Tara watched as the night swallowed up the escaping cabin cruiser and Bonucci disappeared in the town car.
“The DEA’s going to be pissed you let them go,” Tara said.
“Doesn’t matter,” Bannon said.
“Cause they’re both dead, right?”
Bannon nodded. “Probably.”
“The drugs, Bannon,” Flanagan said. “Tell me you do have them.”
“I have them.”
Anxious to skedaddle before the cops arrived, he asked, “Where?”
