Beating the Odds

by Sherrod Tunstall

  Chapter 20

  Plan B

  Two weeks later, the fellas remained in the prison, but under Paco’s protection, no one in the prison dared to touch them unless Paco said so. Stan was being beaten, raped, and passed around the other side of the cell constantly. After a while, he was getting better at his new prison bitch role and even getting some of the profit the Nigerean Warlords were making off of him. They would give him smokes, and cocaine to relieve the pain from the beating and in his anus. But the one thing he was grieving was the blood of the fellas, who had reduced him to this role. In his mind, they were going to pay. At night, he had visions of slicing their heads open and eating their brains. He knew that his vision was going to be a reality before long. He just stayed patient and waited for that day that kept somewhat of a sick smile on his face.

  The guys, especially Brad, wanted to help their friend, but to stay under the protection of Paco they broke all ties and communication with their boy until their court date. They had no clue when that would be.

  Being under Paco’s protection had some greater benefits as well. Not only did other prisoners distance themselves, but they all got to shower in private, thanks to Paco’s connections with the correctional officers. They also didn’t have to eat the pig slop the prison served the inmates. With the hookups in the prison, Paco and his crew, plus Brad and the fellas, ate gourmet foods fit for kings in the dining area every night. For entertainment, they played cards. None of them were delighted about being in prison, but other than what had happened to Stan, it wasn’t as horrific as they had imagined it to be, like on TV or the stories they had heard. They also knew, though, that with the snap of Paco’s fingers, that could all change.

  Aside from trying to make his own escape, Brad thought about Diamond as well. He promised himself that if he managed to get out of there, he would find her and take her back to America with him. For some reason, he felt as if she was still alive. Maybe suffering like he was, but definitely still alive. In private, Brad talked to his crew about his plans.

  They also convinced Swag to utilize the clout he had to try to make a phone call to Zaria. They weren’t sure if money could help them in this situation, but it was good to have something on hand, if needed.

  Swag was escorted by one of the officers to go call Zaria and tell her where his stash was so she could send it to him. He figured she had been wondering where he was, but he didn’t have time to get into details with her. All she needed to know was he would possibly need bail money for him and the fellas—nothing more and nothing less.

  Swag strutted down the hall like he was the pimp of the place because of being under Paco’s protection. As he was walking with the officer behind him, he turned around and looked in the conference room, where Paco and two other gentlemen were sitting down, discussing serious business. Swag shook his head. He couldn’t trust anyone, and he damn sure didn’t trust Paco.

  Man, if I do get outta this shit, maybe I’ll get a real job, go to Job Corps to get my GED, give my life to the Lord, and maybe marry Zaria.

  * * *

  Paco was in the prison conference room with his lawyer, Manny Louis, a slick-looking white man on the chubby side, who was dressed in a gray business suit. He was known as the white Johnnie Cochran of Houston, Texas, and was also known for getting gang leaders, drug lords, and even members of the Hernandez Cartel off by making all of the evidence disappear. It all came at the price of a pretty penny, but it left the judges no choice but to let some of Texas’s most hardcore criminals go scot free.

  Also in the room with Paco was the King of Houston, the most notorious man in the crime world. Deadlier than the Italian Mafia, they even feared him. Paco’s father was named Paco Juan Hernandez, but everyone called him PJ, or the Cocaine and Sex King. He had some of the best cocaine in Texas, thanks to his connections in Colombia and from taking lessons from his late mentor, who was murdered. Her name was Griselda Blanco, also known as the Godmother of Cocaine. Her mentoring also helped him to venture into the sex trade. He kept that business strictly in his native land of Mexico. Kidnapping homeless kids in the Texas area and drugging them up, he’d put them in a whorehouse in Mexico. That new business was making him even richer, especially when the giants in the corporate world came all the way from New York, or even Africa, to get some young ass.

  For a fifty-two-year-old man, PJ had total swagger. He was a very handsome man who resembled actor Ricardo Antonio Chavira. He was working with a very powerful physique that showed well in a Hickey Freeman navy classic-fit suit. He really could have easily graced the cover of GQ or Men’s Health magazine. From the look on PJ’s face, he wasn’t pleased with the shit his son and his friends had done in Brazil, because the whole Hernandez Cartel was under investigation.

  Manny explained to Paco that the incident had gone global, and the D.A. back in Houston was fighting hard to take the Hernandez Cartel down. He wouldn’t rest until the Hernandez Cartel was brought down and PJ was behind bars for good.

  “Papi, maybe we can pay that dickhead off to keep him quiet. Or you know, my favorite, we can always put him out of his misery to shut him up forever,” Paco suggested.

  PJ looked at his son like he was crazy. “Boy, are you stupid? You’re the same fool your uncle was, telling me to give that jerkoff half of what the Hernandez Cartel worked so hard to build. I run Texas, not that asshole. Even if I did pay that ass off, he would blackmail us for the rest of our days, and no one would eat. Hell no. That shit is out.”

  Paco was getting so pissed off. “Papi, get me out this hellhole. Hell, get me out this damn country and back on U.S. soil. I got a family back in Houston. I got my woman and my little girl. Come on, Manny. You’re a lawyer, so scheme.”

  Manny sighed. “Well, the good news is that I can get you out on bail, but you would have to lay low for a while so that me and your father can fix a lot of the bullshit you and your men caused.”

  Paco smiled. “Cool, whatever.”

  “But the bad news is you will have to leave your men behind.” PJ spoke with an emotionless face.

  Dead silence filled the room. Paco couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The one thing Paco believed in was loyalty in the family business. Paco was a loyal dude until the end. No way was he leaving his boys, who had his back since he was in diapers, in that shithole. If they went down, he was going to go down with them like a true G would do.

  “Manny and Papi, have you both lost your damn minds? What part of the game is that? Huh? I would never sell my boys out for not even one second of freedom. Both of you old bastards better figure out something so that my boys and a few of my new friends get out of here and back on U.S. soil.”

  “Come on, son. Take the offer, and I will figure out a way to get your boys and new boys released,” PJ said.

  Paco knew that his father was one of the biggest liars that God ever put on this earth. PJ lied about never breaking Paco’s mother’s heart. Paco’s mother was a good woman with a heart of gold that would give you the shirt off her back. She was the most beautiful Mexican woman, with a tight body giving Salma Hayek a run for her money. She held her man down at any cost, even putting her own dreams of being a doctor on hold. In time, the perfect family she built started crashing down when she found out that PJ had another family in Dallas. Plus, he had women and children all over the state of Texas coming at him for child support. She even caught him in the act twice. With PJ not making an effort to make his marriage work, it caused Paco’s mother to have a nervous breakdown. Soon after, Paco’s mother was committed to a mental hospital on suicide watch.

  Also, Paco knew that his father set his own brother up so that he could take over the Hernandez Cartel. Paco, himself, never understood why he had even gotten involved with the Hernandez Cartel, because there was no loyalty anywhere. Paco remembered when his grandfather was on his deathbed and he told Paco to get as far away from the family as quickly as he could, because he knew when he met his maker, the Hernandez Cartel was goi
ng straight to hell. When he closed his eyes, sure enough he did.

  Paco’s mind wandered until PJ slammed his hand on the wooden table, breaking his son out of his daydream. “Look, boy, you have to choose. Get out of this hellhole and go back to Houston to be with your family that loves and supports you. If you don’t, you will be completely cut off from the Hernandez Cartel and the family forever. So, what’s it going to be, son?” PJ smiled, knowing that his son was going to make the right choice.

  That smile pissed off Paco. He stood up, looking as if he wanted to assassinate both his father and Manny. “Fuck you, Manny, and fuck you too, old man. I don’t give a damn about the Hernandez Cartel. Our family died a long time ago when you screwed Mommy over with your whore and bastard children. I hope you burn in hell, old man. So, fuck you!”

  After hearing those words, PJ and Manny both stood.

  “Okay, Paco. Enjoy prison food, and don’t drop the soap.”

  PJ and Manny walked out of the room.

  “Fuck you both!” Paco gave them the finger.

  Once PJ and Manny were out of the room, the correctional officer walked over to Paco, putting his hand on his shoulder. “You cool, boss?”

  “Yeah, Mario.”

  “So, what now, boss?” Mario asked in a thick Spanish accent.

  Paco smiled at Mario. “Time for plan B: To get the hell out of here!”

  Chapter 21

  Plan In Action

  That evening, Paco and his crew, along with Brad, Swag, Tyler, and Travis were in the prison private dining area, enjoying the perks of being with Paco. They were having a good meal of fried chicken wings, collard greens, T-bone steak, fried rice, baked potatoes, cupcakes from Diamond’s bakery, and all the beer they wanted.

  As the fellas were eating like kings, they noticed Brad slowly licking a chocolate cupcake with pink frosting and sprinkles. Brad knew that those delicious cupcakes were from the bakery Diamond worked for—or, in Brad’s mind, the bakery she was forced to work for. He imagined Diamond’s beautifully manicured hands making cupcakes and mixing up the batter. In his mind, he was having a freaky vision of her in a Victoria’s Secret bra and panty set. Her body was shaped like model Chanel Iman, with a Nicki Minaj booty. He could picture her working in a hot, steamy kitchen with sweat dripping down her sexy body as she was taking cupcakes out of the hot oven. He could imagine watching her frost every cupcake. Brad pretended that his fingers were hers as he licked them passionately.

  The fellas were laughing at him, because they knew what was wrong with Brad. Being in the prison for weeks without any women around was hard on any man, and they all jacked off at night. But Brad had gone too far, and he was looking like a desperate fool. Tyler threw a chicken wing at Brad, knocking him out of his day dream. He looked over at his boys, who were laughing up a storm.

  “Damn, playa,” Swag said, laughing.

  “He workin ’em fingers,” said Paco. “Whose clit you imaginin’ you eatin’ out?”

  They continued to laugh, and Brad gave them all the finger.

  As they continued eating like kings, Paco cleared his throat. His crew knew when he did that, it was time to get down to business.

  “Well, everyone, I have some bad news and some good news,” Paco said.

  Everyone was silent.

  “The bad news is we ain’t getting out of here, because my father wanted only me released, but I said hell naw. I’m loyal to the damn end. So I’m officially cut off from the Hernandez Cartel.”

  The fellas didn’t say a word. They were stunned that their boy had risked his own freedom, wealth, and family to be in a shithole with them. To them, that was true friendship.

  “The good news is I’ve been making contacts, and I’m now hooked up with a very powerful Costa Rican mob boss. We been talking business for years, and I’m thinking of joining that squad. The plan is to bring my father’s piece of shit organization down and make the streets of Houston and Mexico mine, with you all as equal partners.”

  All the fellas clapped, including Swag, Tyler, and Travis, who really didn’t give a shit about anything anymore except getting the hell out of Brazil by any means necessary. Brad felt the same way, but he had to find out what was up with Diamond.

  “Shh!” Paco said. “Calm that shit down ’fore y’all wake up the whole damn prison.”

  The fellas silenced themselves again.

  “But, Paco, if they gon’ make us full partners, how we gon’ do it from in here and they in Costa Rica?” Brad asked.

  “Homies, if you just shut the hell up, I can tell you the rest of the story,” Paco said sarcastically. “Yeah, I know this cat in Costa Rica, and the boss is going to take real good care of us. We all gon’ make more money than we ever dreamed of. We can kick it in Costa Rica for a few years, until I can build my own dynasty and bring my father’s down. Then, Houston can be ours for the taking.”

  Swag, Tyler, Travis, and Paco’s boys were saying, “Hell yeah! Anything to get out of this hellhole.”

  Brad couldn’t believe how his cousin and his boys were acting. He was highly disappointed. They kept making the same mistake over and over again, and even though Brad had agreed to go along with the plan, he didn’t want to. There was nothing to be happy about. He just wanted out. He didn’t give a damn about running the streets with men like Paco, and shame on the others for wanting to be down with him.

  “Yo, B, you wit’ us or what, bro?” Paco asked.

  Brad pretended as if he hadn’t heard him. “What you say, man?”

  “You down wit’ us or what?” Paco smiled.

  “Yeah, I’m down for whatever.”

  “Cool. Gentlemen, in a few short days, we will be free and very rich men.” Paco raised his cup. “To the future.”

  “To the future!” Everyone raised their cups.

  Goodbye, fellas, Brad thought while taking a sip of his drink. I’m so glad this is almost over.

  Chapter 22

  It’s Goin’Down

  In the prison that night, Paco held a little party for all of the inmates in the cell, with jerk chicken, barbecue ribs, corn on the cob, white rice, and cake. No one, not even the faculty at the prison, questioned Paco about having the party. Since he was an ex-member of the Hernandez Cartel, he still had money everywhere, and with money, people still respected him. He had the power, no doubt. All of the prisoners ate like they never had food before. Hell, they hadn’t had good food like that in a minute.

  One prisoner said, “This feast is even better than sex and Christmas combined,” and all of the inmates laughed.

  Paco watched as everyone was enjoying the food. Eat up, ’cause it will be your last meal.

  As everyone was enjoying their meal, the officer brought a big orange water dispenser, which contained red Kool-Aid. Each prisoner grabbed a cup, but Paco warned his crew, Brad, Swag, Tyler, and Travis not to drink it unless they wanted to meet their maker sooner than later. Paco proposed a toast to life and blessings, but in his mind, the real toast he wanted to say was, Fuck you all, and good luck in hell.

  All the prisoners ate and drank, until it got quieter and quieter. The cell went to a deathful silence. Brad and the fellas were scared shitless. Brad looked over and saw his boy Stan, who was now dead to the world. His eyes were wide open and without a blink.

  Good luck in the afterlife, my friend. He tried to hold in his tears. Brad knew that he did wrong by his friend, abandoning Stan when he needed Brad the most. He knew he had to reap punishment for it later, but for now, all he wanted to do was get the hell out of the prison, check up on Diamond, and get out of Brazil with her by his side.

  There was a clicking sound, and the cell door opened.

  “Come on,” Paco said.

  Everyone followed his lead out of the cell. Brad stopped one moment to look back at Stan. “Deuces, my friend,” he said in a whisper.

  When he was heading out to meet his boys, out of nowhere, someone jumped on Brad’s back, pulling him down. The crew pivo
ted to see what was going on, and they saw that it was Stan, fighting with Brad, after everyone thought he was dead.

  “You ain’t going no damn where,” Stan hissed like a demon. “You gon’ stay in here with me and be the new bitch!”

  “Get off me,” Brad said, pushing him back and then putting him into a headlock.

  Stan was no longer the nice, funny guy Brad used to work and hang out with. Stan had turned into a wild beast, thirsty for blood, but Brad couldn’t blame him. Brad had sacrificed his friend to the wolves, seeing and hearing his friend being beaten, raped, and sold for cigarettes or soap. That would make anyone go crazy.

  “All I can say is I’m sorry,” Brad said in a low tone while trying to calm Stan.

  “Fuck you and your sorry. I’ma—”

  The sound of firecrackers went off. Brad was in a state of shock as he had blood splattered all over him from his friend’s brains being blown out. Stan’s lifeless body fell to the ground, and when Brad looked up, he saw the person who had shot Stan. It was one of the officers that worked for Paco.

  “Move it, fat ass, and catch up with your friends if you want your freedom. I’ll take care of this piece of shit. Go!”

  Brad stepped over Stan’s body and hurried to make his way to his crew so they could get the hell out of the prison.

  Once the guys were outside, one of the other guards had a black van waiting for the fellas. Brad smelled the air. It still smelled so sweet. Now that he was smelling the sweet victory of freedom, he thought about how he was going to get away from everyone. He didn’t know his way around, and even if he got to the airport again, how would he be able to board one of those planes and get the hell out of there? He was sure that Diamond could help him, and he could help her too. She appeared to be a trustworthy person, and there weren’t too many other people that Brad trusted right now.

  As the van drove off, they all lifted their hands, waving good-bye.

  * * *

  While the van drove down the streets of downtown Rio, the fellas, Paco, and his crew were shouting, laughing, and drinking beer while saying, “Thank God. Free at last. Costa Rica, here we come.”