“Why not? It’s the truth. You know damn well that I took out Salvador Castillo for you. We both pretended at the time, but you knew.”
“I cannot believe we’re having this conversation,” Sylvia said, this time in a low hush. “I really cannot.”
“As I said ma’am, I have neither the time nor the patience to mince words. The next time Rafael Castillo will make sure he hires professionals and not a bunch of hopped up cowboys. Bonnie and Danny will never be safe again as long as he is alive.”
Sylvia stared at him, the shock remained plastered on her face.
“I have to take care of this and there is only one way I know how to do that.”
“Dear God, Jimmy. You are making a bargain with the devil.”
“And as I said, you know exactly what that feels like.”
“We are not having this conversation,” Sylvia walked around the desk and headed toward the door of the office. Jimmy stepped in front of her, blocking her path. She stopped and glared at him.
“What are you going to do, Jimmy? Are you going to beat me until you get a name? Just as you did my husband?”
“Again, I did that for you. I did that for Emily. And you didn’t have a problem with it at the time.”
“I had a huge problem with it! I have nightmares about it!”
Sylvia, visibly shaken, stared wild-eyed at her friend. She fought for control as the recollection of that horrible day was written all over her face. Harris looked and noticed her hands were trembling. He could see that she had as many demons as he did. His mood shifted and he felt tremendous guilt for having dredged up her pain. He admonished himself inwardly for causing her this anguish.
“Yeah,” Harris said, his tone softened. “I get that.”
He turned slightly and looked off into the far corner of the room. He wasn’t focusing on anything, instead his mind was staring at one of the mental pictures he carried within him. The weight of it showed in his demeanor. He looked much older than he had just a week ago. “I know, Sylvia. I know.”
She looked and saw his pain, his sacrifice, both present and past. Jimmy Harris was a warrior and he bore the terrible price of being a man who did what was necessary. He took actions that others could not. Actions that needed to be taken. But they couldn’t be easy to live with. Not some of them. She reached out and took his arm in a soft grip.
“Jimmy, believe me, I do understand. But there has to be another way. There has to be.”
“Yeah, there may be,” he spoke hesitantly. His brain struggled with a thought.
“What Jimmy? What can we offer them? Would a million dollars be enough? Two million?”
Jimmy smiled at her and shook his head.
“Stop,” she said. “I will give it to you. I will give you more.”
“No Sylvia, Scalaro knows they’re all facing life in prison. They need the informant.”
Sylvia walked around him and headed for the couch. She sat down and clasped her hands together, laying them on her lap. Her mind raced as she tried to come up with an angle. Finally she just shook her head in frustration. She looked up to see Jimmy gazing out the bay window. He looked tired, beaten.
“It’s impossible, Jimmy. For so many reasons I can’t even begin to tell you. This is a lot bigger than me. A lot bigger. The Feds are running this from D.C. We handle the C.I. but they call the shots. The repercussions would be extraordinary.”
“Yeah,” Harris said with a sigh. His demeanor had changed. The enormity of what he was asking of her hit home. “I’m sorry, Sylvia. I really am. This was a mistake. I’m-I’m not thinking straight. I need some sleep.”
“Oh Jimmy,” Sylvia gushed, sorrow and compassion softening her words. “You are under so much pressure. I understand what you are going through. I really do.”
Harris said nothing. He continued to stare out the window, down to the coves waters. There were only a few white puffs of clouds drifting against a perfect blue backdrop. The day was so peaceful. He couldn’t remember the last time his life had been peaceful. After a few moments he began to nod softly. A decision had been reached and he turned to lock eyes with Sylvia.
“There is another way.”
“What way, Jimmy?”
Harris paused momentarily. And then he spoke.
“I will tell them I have the name of their rat but first I expect them to handle my problem.”
“Can they do that? Can they reach that far away? All the way to Colombia?” She asked with a hushed voice as if speaking it aloud would violate some type of unwritten law. These were things that neither of them should be thinking, much less saying.
“I don’t know. Probably.”
“But then what? What if they help you and you don’t come through for them? What will happen then, Jimmy?”
Harris looked at her and pursed his lips. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
“Jimmy?” Sylvia’s face grew troubled.
Harris just stared at her. He breathed deeply for a second time and then offered a soft smile as he shrugged his shoulders.
“No,” Sylvia said as she stood. She balled her fists, holding them at her side. “No Jimmy. No way.”
“It doesn’t matter, Sylvia,” Harris replied in a low voice. He suddenly sounded extremely tired. “It doesn’t matter at all.”
“The hell you say!” She said with a mixture of fear and anger. “The hell it does not matter! It matters to a lot of people!”
“At least Danny and Bonnie will be safe. They won’t go after them.”
“Jimmy, stop! There has to be another way, we just haven’t thought of it yet!”
“I need the Franco families help. It’s the only way.”
“This is bullshit! How do you know they won’t go after Bonnie and Danny if you cross them?!”
“They won’t.”
“You don’t know that!”
“They won’t. They aren’t like the cartels. It’s against mob rules.”
“Rules!?” Sylvia gasped loudly. “These are fucking gangsters! What rules?!”
“Sylvia,” Harris walked over and place a hand on her shoulder. “They won’t.”
“Jimmy, we can help. We can put you and your family in witness protection!”
“We aren’t witnesses and even if we were, running and hiding isn’t my style.”
“Your style?!” Sylvia spat with anger. “Your fucking style?!”
“I’m not running.”
“Oh goddamn you and your pride. Your son needs his father!”
Harris stepped forward and put both arms around her. He pulled her towards him and hugged her gently.
“I’m sorry, Sylvia,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have come here. I should never have asked you what I did. I’m sorry.”
Harris kissed her forehead and released her. He then walked towards the office doors, passing through them and into the foyer.
“Please, Jimmy.” Sylvia spoke hoarsely as a sob stuck in her throat. She made no attempt to follow him. It was though she was rooted to that spot of the floor. She turned her head and watched him walk away. “Please don’t do this.”
He made it to the front door.
“Jimmy! I’m sorry!” Sylvia yelled from the study. “I’m sorry!”
Harris opened the door and walked through, closing it behind him. He never looked back.
Mob Rules
54
Harris was almost back to his house when his cell phone rang. Keeping his eye on the road, he gripped the steering wheel gingerly with his injured hand as he searched with his right hand under several loose papers and the assorted trash that had piled up on his passenger seat. It didn’t help that it was pitch black outside. Streetlights whipped past, briefly illuminating his cars interior at three second intervals. He finally found the phone and raised it to his ear.
“Hello,” he said quietly. Gone from his voice was the usual, take charge assertiveness.
“Holy shit, Jimmy, I got your message. Are you okay?” It sounded like the
old Bonnie, a caring voice, full of love and concern.
Harris smiled as it brought back feelings he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Don’t give me that! What did they do to you? Are you injured?”
“Nothing major. Don’t give it another thought.”
“What do you mean nothing major?” She insisted. “What happened, Jimmy? Did you get them? Is it over?”
“No, but it will be soon.”
“Holy shit,” Bonnie said for the second time.
“Almost, Bonnie. I just have one more thing to do.”
“So there are still people looking for us?”
“Not exactly.”
“What the hell does that mean?” The chilly tone had returned. Old, loving Bonnie had retreated back into the murky shadows.
“It means that the initial threat has been dealt with. And now I have just one more thing to do.”
“Such as?”
Harris said nothing. He turned onto his street and although it was dark and he was still several houses away, he could see the yellow strips of police tape that surrounded his porch, fluttering in the slight breeze.
“Let’s talk tomorrow, Bonnie. I have to get some sleep.”
“Well it must be nice, being able to sleep in your own bed,” his wife chided, the hostility he had grown accustomed to was back in spades.
He pulled into his driveway and killed the engine. Sitting in silence, Harris flashed back to the day they had purchased this house. Danny was just a baby and after years of apartment dwelling they’d finally saved enough for a down payment. That and a loan through the police credit union had helped them finally realize their dream of home ownership. It was one of the happiest times in his life and he remembered pulling into this driveway for the first time as its owner. Now, all these years later, it was all gone. His marriage was ending, he never saw his boy and soon this house would be on the market.
Harris felt alone. He felt like a failure but more importantly, he felt as if he’d brought misery to those he cared about most in the world. He looked at the front of the house and past the waving police tape. The cardboard that covered the shattered windows and the multiple bullet holes were so eerily metaphoric that for a brief second it almost made him smile with the parody of it all.
“Are you still there?” Bonnie asked. Harris could hear the loathing in her voice. He wondered how he’d ever let it get so out of his control.
“I love you, Bonnie. And I just want to let you know that I’m sorry for any pain I ever caused you. I never meant to.”
It was Bonnie’s turn to be silent as she digested his words. This wasn’t the way her husband normally sounded. She could feel the change in his demeanor through the phone.
“What’s the matter?” She asked, a wary concern ringing in her question.
“Nothing,” he answered.
“You sound,” Bonnie hesitated, searching for the word. “Different.”
“I’m fine, Bonnie.”
“You’re not telling me something.”
“Just remember what I said, okay?”
Bonnie hesitated briefly. “Why are you acting like this?”
“Please tell Danny I love him very much.”
“You’re scaring me, Jimmy.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said as he changed his tone. “I’m just tired and feeling kind of…”
“Feeling what?” She asked as refused to finish his sentence.
“Good night, Bonnie.”
Bonnie sighed. She realized that it was pointless to push him further.
“Get some sleep, Jimmy. You sound like shit.”
The call disconnected as Bonnie hung up.
Harris sat in the car for a few more seconds. He really was tired. He hadn’t felt this type of exhaustion since the war. As this thought occurred to him, he realized that the wars had never really ended for him. He just went from one to the next. But that would be over soon as well. And it didn’t matter.
He thought of those last words to Sylvia. It didn’t matter.
It really didn’t, he thought. He accepted it. As long as Bonnie and Danny were safe, nothing else mattered. He was okay with it.
Harris climbed out of the car and headed for his front door.
Mob Rules
55
Harris reflected back to the first time he’d entered this pool hall. It seemed like a long time ago but in reality, it was less than a week. He had been met with open hostility and ridicule that time. And it had turned violent as one of the mob thugs had tried to brace him. He had fought for, and earned, their respect.
Now, as he walked through the pool tables towards the bar, he recognized at least two of the men who had saved him from Rabi and the Loco’s. They nodded a greeting to him and he returned the gesture as he walked towards the back room. It was almost as if he now fit in with the group.
He gave a soft knock on the office door.
“Enter,” a gruff voice commanded.
Harris twisted the knob and pushed the door open. He walked into the dimly lit room, closing the door behind him.
Anthony Scalaro sat behind his desk. A blunt cigar burned in an ashtray, the thick white smoke wafting in a twisting rise to the ceiling. He smiled warmly as Harris approached his desk.
“How’s the hand?” Scalaro pointed as he spoke.
“I don’t even notice it, Tony.”
“I’ll say this, Captain,” the underboss laughed and shook his head. “You are one tough bastard.”
Harris accepted the compliment with a smile and a small shrug.
“Too bad you aren’t Italian,” Scalaro continued. “You’d have made a great member of our organization. You probably be running it someday.”
“Yeah,” Harris spoke as the smile left his face. “Well there are still a hell of a lot of differences between you and me, Tony.”
“Not where it matters,” Scalaro answered. He grabbed the cigar and thrust it between his teeth.
“Anyway, Tony, I owe you my life. Saying thank you seems kind of weak.”
“An astute observation, Captain,” Scalaro said with a smile. He extended an arm and gestured to the empty seat in front of his desk. “But you know exactly how to thank us.”
Harris nodded. He smiled grimly as he took a seat.
“And I’ve got the information you need.”
Scalaro’s eyebrows rose suddenly and his face froze. He did not blink. Harris watched and saw the transformation from skilled politician, from a man who could shake hands and exchange pleasantries, to that of a cold blooded killer. The underbosses eyes darkened and clouded over.
“Tell me,” he ordered.
“I plan on it. But what I’m offering is worth more than just my life. I need something else.”
“Really?” Scalaro spoke ominously, a simmering rage just below the surface. “And what do you think that psychopath would have done to your wife and child after he finished with you? You owe me a lot more than just your life, Captain.”
“But you haven’t saved them. Rabi may not get to them, but the man who put out the contract is still alive and breathing. And he will hire somebody else, somebody much better. He won’t make the same mistake twice.”
“And?” Tony growled, playing the game. “What do you want me to do about it? Assign a few of my boys as your families personal bodyguards?”
“No,” Harris spoke bluntly. He looked Scalaro in the eye without blinking. “I want you to kill him for me.”
There was no hesitation. No clever words spun as a web of double meanings. No padding to protect himself.
Scalaro smiled and leaned back in his chair. He chewed the end of his cigar and let Harris’ words hang in the air. The tension in the room was thick and the stakes couldn’t be any higher. Scalaro was in his natural environment and he held home field advantage.
“Why, Captain Harris,” he said with a subtle smirk. “You must have me confused with somebody else. I don’t
do things like that.”
“Of course you don’t,” Harris answered, playing along. “But the man who ordered my family killed is the cousin of the drug lord that kidnapped Emily Blumquist last Thanksgiving. I’m sure you know about the case.”
“Naturally,” Scalaro answered matter-of-factly. “Didn’t the man in question end up in the East River? What was his name?”
“Salvador Castillo.”
“Yeah, that’s it. Some big shot out of Colombia if memory serves correct.”
“Rafael Castillo runs the business now. He wants revenge for his cousin.”
“Well,” Scalaro shrugged. “La famiglia è la famiglia.”
“Well put, Tony,” Harris said as he fixed the man with a steely gaze. “But there are many familes to consider, aren’t there?”
Scalaro took a pull on his cigar and blew the smoke upwards where it mingled with the white cloud that hung like fog just above their heads.
“Indeed, Captain. But there are many problems with what you ask not the least of which is geography. What makes you think I can extend my arm such a distance?”
“I’m sure a capable man such as yourself could find a way,” Harris answered.
“Perhaps. But the other problem is the matter of payment. As you’ve acknowlegded, you are already in my debt. I believe you already owe me the name. If, by chance, your problem in Colombia suddenly disappears, I want more than just this rat’s name.”
“How do you figure?”
“This would be the second time I save your ass. And your wife and child. Yet you are only offering one man.”
“You’re not looking at this the right way, Tony,” Harris said as he leaned forward in his chair. “The rat is not the bargaining chip.”
“And what is?”
“Do you know how many people I am saving if I give this man to you?”
Scalaro said nothing. He chomped on the cigar and allowed Harris to continue.
“If this man testifies you will go to prison for the rest of your life. So will all of the high ranking members of your family as well as some high ranking members of the other four families.”
Harris paused and let this sink in. He looked for any type of angst behind the underbosses hard eyes but the man held his poker face. He glared back in quiet defiance.
MOB RULES (James Harris Book 2) Page 20
