by D B Steward
“Something like this has to be very expensive.” He had some money, but he anticipated the price being much too high for him to afford. “So how much is this?”
“Each client pays a sliding scale senator.” She paused. “What I do requires not only discretion, it also requires protection. Some of my clients are in positions to help me deal with certain nuscinaces that arise from time to time. It is the nature of the business you see. So, men like you recieve substantial discounts. In return for the discount, there is an understanding that if I need a favor they will be there to help.”
“A bargain indeed.” He mused. “How soon can I arrange a session?”
“Tonight senator. I have a driver standing by.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“This feels like a stakeout.” Kelly mused from the passenger seat. “All we need is a box of donuts and two coffees.” She continued to stare out at the storefront with the windows blacked out across the street. “You think they have any donut shops around here?”
Sonny didn’t answer, instead she rolled her eyes from the driverside. “Were you an FBI agent in the movies? Want to light up a cigarette while you’re at it Sam Spade?”
“If I’m Sam Spade, that makes you Miles Archer.”
“Doesn’t Archer die in The Maltese Falcon?” Sonny searched her memory.
“Yeah, so maybe start being a little nicer to Sam Spade huh?” They had been watching the door for over an hour. So far they saw a few people enter and leave but their ages didn’t mesh with the image of gangbangers. They were middle aged men. They weren’t affluent men either, they appeared to be locals. Low class prostitutes entered alone and exited with clients.
“This is a casino? It looks more like bingo night at Sister Mary’s church of creepy old guys.” Kelly muttered, more to herself than to Sonny. “I haven’t seen a single MH4 member go in yet. “Maybe it's a gangbanger American Legion Hall for former gangstas?”
“Trace said that this was one of the places under their control. Maybe they don’t even visit it. This could be a waste of time.”
Kelly turned to face her with a scowl. “Oh, it’s my idea so it has to be a waste of time.”
Sonny was perplexed. “I never said that.”
“Yeah right.” Kelly grumbled and turned away, returning her gaze across the street. Sonny could sense the anger coming off the other woman.
“What is wrong with you?”
“I know what you guys think about me! You, Trace, and Timmerman.” Kelly whirled around, her eyes burning with anger. “I’m just some dumb bitch that you got saddled with! I bring nothing to the table! Why am I even here? It’s obvious to everyone that you don’t need me!”
Sonny’s mouth hung open in surprise. “Where is this coming from? I never said anything like that!”
Kelly’s hand was already on the door handle. “You didn’t have to!” She pushed open the car door, hopped out and slammed it behind her. Sonny watched in astonishment as Kelly stomped across the street and entered the bar.
“What the fuck was that?” Sonny whispered in disbelief.
Kelly yanked open the door and squinted as her eyes adjusted to the darkness inside. It smelled. Her nose crinkled at the acrid smell of stale sweat, stale beer, and cigarette smoke. There was no air conditioning, only a sad little fan sitting on the bar spinning slowly. It was a bar and casino combo. She saw two tables with people seated at each, one for poker, the other for blackjack. There was a crap game in one corner and a bar in the other one that had seen too many happy hours.
There were twenty or so people inside. More than half were old men who looked like they were spending their last pesos on the chance of a big payout. There were a couple of prostitutes that were way past their primes. Their attention was focused on the few players inside that seemed more successful at life than the other gamblers. They were definitely dressed better, but they were still far from the fashion plate whales in Vegas.
Kelly spotted three young thugs with tattoos covering every inch of their bodies. One was behind the bar pouring cheap liquor and cervezas. There was another standing back in a far corner watching the players. The last one was at the door, checking out everyone that entered. Including Kelly, who he was staring at now.
“What you doing here chica?” His tone wasn’t friendly, but he didn’t seem to be threatening her.
Kelly motioned with her hand at the tables. “I came to play. Is that a problem?”
“You got money?” It appeared to her that he was losing interest in talking to her.
“You take American dollars right?”
He chuckled. “Well good luck chica. We don’t do refunds.”
She smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She walked past him towards the bar. The guy playing bartender regarded her with suspicion.
“What do you want?” His tone said what he thought about Kelly being there.
“A shot of Tequila and a bottle of whatever’s cold.” Kelly punctuated it by slapping her palm on the bar. The sound of the smack earned some annoyed glances around the room. Her drinks were set in front of her and she downed the shot without breaking eye contact with the bartender. He smirked and turned away from her. Kelly opened her beer and leaned her back against the bar. She scanned the room. Her practised eyes took in everything. The entrance and exit, the patrons and most importantly the armed thugs. Pushing herself off the bar,
she ambled over to the poker table. There were three players and the dealer playing Texas Hold Em. She plopped down on an empty chair. She put her bottle down with an audible slam that seemed to echo through the tiny casino. “What’s the buy in fellas?”
They all regarded her with amusement. The dealer chuckled. “Let’s say a thousand american dollars for a pretty girl like you.”
Kelly pulled out her roll of hundreds, thanking herself for hitting the ATM with the black card Trace gave them. She peeled off ten of them and let them fall from her fingertips onto the table. The other players raised their eyebrows looking at the bank roll. “I seem to have enough. Let’s play boys.”
While Kelly was gambling and joking around inside, Sonny was busy surveilling the area.
Watching the door was helping her calm down a bit. The anger at Kelly’s recent outburst was fading. Sonny tried to wrap her head around what had happened. For some reason Kelly thought she was useless and the situation had her perplexed. Was Kelly trying to prove her worth by barging into the place, sight unseen? What did she hope to accomplish, Sonny questioned.
If they were going to move forward as partners, Kelly was going to have to understand what being partners meant. It also meant that Sonny would have to learn as well. She was beginning to see that it was not the same as it was in the movies.
Sonny had only ever worked alongside her father. He had taken her on a handful of contracts before his death. Even then. It had been a mentoring dynamic and not a partnership. She didn’t know how to work with someone else. She was unfamiliar with the give and take of equals. There was a mutual understanding in a partnership. An understanding that the input from the other half was to be recognized and listened to.
She was beginning to realize that she had been too dismissive of Kelly’s idea. If they were going to work together, Sonny needed to realize that everything could not always do things her way.
“What are you doing to me Miss King?” Sonny asked herself. She exhaled all her frustration and climbed out of the car. She strode with purpose across the street. She checked the windows while she walked. They were clear of anyone watching the street. She was confident that there was no one watching her as she entered through the door she saw Kelly disappear behind.
Sonny was surprised by what she found inside. There was Kelly at a card table holding court with everyone in the establishment. She saw the wide grin on Kelly’s face and the pile of money spread before her. There was also the same troubling glint in the piercing green eyes that she had observed before.
“Looks like this Iri
sh lassie has come down here to take all your dinero muchachos!” The redhead spread her cards on the table with aplomb and an ear to ear smile. The other players at the table grumbled and tossed their cards on the table angrily. Everyone’s attention was on Kelly and not even the man watching the door had noticed Sonny walk in. Once Kelly had played her cards he turned to Sonny at last.
“You with her?” He scowled and Sonny nodded. “Better get her out of here. She’s pissing us off.” Sonny chuckled, which only irritated him more.
“Oh she excels at that.” She walked past him without a second glance. Kelly noticed her coming and waved her closer.
“About time you showed up. These guys don’t talk a lot and I was getting tired of trying to carry the conversation by myself.”
“What is happening here?” Sonny stopped behind Kelly.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m taking these hombres to esquela!” She scraped her winnings from the last pot over to her pile.
Sonny leaned in close to whisper in Kelly’s ear. “Are you sure you should be doing this? You’re drawing a lot of attention to yourself.” Kelly grabbed her cash with both hands and held the pile to her chest.
“Deal me out of the next hand boys, but don’t give my chair away.” She pushed away from the table and led Sonny to the bar. Making sure that the bartender was out of earshot she whispered. “I am on a roll Sonny! I am cleaning up!” She fanned the money out and wiggled it in front of the assassin.
“I hope you have a plan here, because I can’t see it!” Sonny hissed, her silent promise to herself to compromise already forgotten. “It looks like you’re gambling. How exactly does that help us?”
“I’m pulling a James Bond!” Kelly grinned. “I’m going to win enough money to get one of the brothers’ attention. They’ll come down here and we can get to the bottom of this.”
Sonny scowled. “The bottom of what Miss King? We are down here to eliminate them, remember? What? Are we going to get into a shootout in this dump?”
“There is something going on here Sonny. I can feel it in my gut, something’s not right about this whole thing. I need more information here.”
“I told you before, that is not our job Kelly!” Her whisper rose in volume and she looked around to see if someone was listening.
“Well maybe it should be.” Kelly attempted to calm herself by taking a deep breath. “I’m not like you Sonny, I need to know that I’m doing the right thing. I have to find out if these guys are responsible for the assassination. Among other things.”
“And how exactly are you going to find that out?”
“Simple.” Kelly winked. “I’m going to ask them.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“You are certifiably insane.” Sonny rubbed her temple. “You know that right?”
“Why don’t you sit back and watch a pro work. This is what I do.”
Sonny saw three guns in the room. One in the waistband of the thug at the door and two placed on a table. Sonny shook her head with contempt for the gang bangers putting their guns on display like that. Two of the pistols were huge hand cannons. Both .50 caliber and meant for show, not use. They were gaudy and decorated with skulls, flames. There were a few words engraved in spanish that she couldn’t make out from where she was standing. The gangbangers who used those were using them to look tough. Sonny could tell by looking at some of them that they would fall over trying to fire one of those howitzers.
Still, she was outgunned. She needed to get to the weapons Trace had left for them. She didn’t like what she was about to do but she felt she had no choice. “Okay look, I’m going to go and get the gear and come back. I want you to promise me that you will not do anything stupid until I get back.”
An impatient shout came from the poker table. “You playing or not chica?” Kelly waved her hand without turning to face them.
“I’m coming, hold el caballo!” She flashed her most sparkling smile at Sonny. “Alright you go and I will be right here, owning these fools.”
With one last glance at Kelly, Sonny spun and walked towards the exit. Before she allowed the door to close behind her she snuck a peek at Kelly. The redhead was laughing and looked to be in her element. Sonny hoped that nothing happened to Kelly while she was gone.
They saw him as the weak one, the weak brother. Hector Garcia was one of the four leaders of the MH4. One of the most brutal and feared gangs in Mexico and the United States. But he was still the youngest brother. The baby. He was young when his brothers started the gang. They were the killers. They were hardcore. But, by the time he was old enough to prove himself MH4’s reputation was already established.
Hector had looked up to Angel, he had been like a father to him. Angel was ten years older and until he died he had been Hector’s protector. Ramon had always scared Hector, ever since he was little. To be honest, he was still terrified by his violent brother. But Hector hated Arturo. Arturo was the smart one. The wise one. The one they turned to when decisions had to be made once Angel was gone. Arturo gave the orders. Although the brothers were supposed to lead the gang together, both Hector and Ramon always deferred to Arturo.
Arturo was always right, Arturo always knew what to do. It was sickening. Arturo was the one who ordered Hector to do this or Hector to do that. Now, while the entire United States government was at war with them, Hector had been sent to make the daily collections. He should have been helping organize a plan to defend MH4. But he did what he had always done. The grunt work.
His route consisted of collecting the cash from their lieutenants and the various places they ran. Hector’s last stop of the day was one of their underground casinos. Hector figured he would have a few drinks at the last one to try and calm his nerves. All day during his route he had been looking over his shoulder. Any time he saw a white person he wondered if they were with the FBI, DEA, or the CIA. His eyes had been glued to the rear view mirror as he drove, causing two close calls on the road. Just thinking about the power and reach of the United States chilled him to the bone. He could be living the rest of his life in a concrete hole; perhaps even the needle.
By the time he reached his last stop, he had scared himself so much that he ran from his car to the door. Once inside he nodded at the man watching the door. Jose? Julio? He
couldn’t remember his name. What caught his attention was the loud redhead at the poker table who was acting like she owned the place.
And she was American.
“What the fuck is going on?” Hector questioned the other man. “Who the fuck is that?” The other man shrugged.
“Beats the fuck out of me man. She came in here and started cleaning us out. She had another girl come in, they talked for a minute and then she left. I was about to call you and see what you wanted us to do about her.”
This was no coincidence, Hector thought. First MH4 gets blamed for killing a US senator and now some Americans show up to their place. She was obviously someone from the CIA or the FBI. Maybe some other agency. She was there for a reason, and he was going to find out what it was.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Colonel England examined the plain envelope in his hand. It was on the pillow of his bed, waiting for him when he returned home. It could have been left by one of his staff. Perhaps his maid or cook or his assistant was responsible. His security detail was also a possibility, they had access to his home.
But he knew who had left the envelope in his room. He had somehow gotten past his security detail. He had entered the house without being detected. The colonel wasn’t surprised. The man was the best at being invisible until he wanted to be seen, but by then it was already too late.
The colonel opened the envelope and removed the single sheet of paper from inside it. There would be no sending this in for forensic analysis. He would have to destroy the message right after he finished reading it.
‘You know who was behind it, but everyone loves a show.’
The message was clear. The colonel’s worst fear had n
ow been confirmed. Pierpont had been behind Sanchez’s assassination. Also, somehow, he had an operative break into his house. And whatever Pierpont was planning, he was far from finished.
Trace was already in Timmerman’s office when she got in that morning. She was lying on Nancy Timmerman’s couch along the wall, feet up and laptop on her stomach. “Do I want to know how you got into my office?” She sighed and placed her attache on her desk.
“Probably not.” Trace muttered before she focused on Timmerman behind her desk. “How much do you know about your boss’s past? Like the fact that he used to run a spec ops team with the possible future now deceased senator and a nut job nationalist that’s on the FBI’s most wanted list?”
Nancy remained silent and her face remained passive. But her mind was spinning as she attempted to process what Trace was saying. “How did you know that?”
“I can get info on anything at any time.” Trace sat up and studied Nancy and raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t know did you?”
Nancy straightened up to her full height of 5’5”. “Like you, I know what I need to know to carry out my job.” Her tone said that she would not discuss the subject further. “Your job is to provide support for our assets in the field. Have they checked in yet? And why aren’t you on a plane to Texas?”
