My Life for Yours

by Margaret McHeyzer

  ‘DeLuca,

  Your time to end is near.

  Enjoy the last few days you still breathe.

  Time to pay for The Senator or BANG.’

  I snatch the paper out of G’s hand and reread it. And reread it, and reread it.

  When my eyes look at the paper and the words finally register, I stumble back and let go of the letter. The paper like a lone feather curves gently and softly through the air until it finds the floor to stop its travels.

  My heart falls from the cavity that houses it, my legs collapse from under me and my body finds the same resting area as the paper.

  “What have I done?” I sigh as my hands find my face and moisture runs down through my fingers.

  “Frankie, you can’t fall apart. You need to pull yourself together.”

  “I’ve killed him.”

  “No you haven’t. This isn’t on you, Frankie.”

  My new phone pings with an incoming message. I slowly stand to get it as I try to calm myself down with deep breaths. The message is from Jeremy, I exhale a huge sigh of relief knowing he’s alright.

  “Jeremy,” I swipe my finger left to right to unlock the screen and click on the new message icon.

  It’s not a message from Jeremy.

  It’s a picture of Jeremy.

  Tied to a chair.

  Blind folded.

  Beaten.

  Slumped back.

  Today’s newspaper lies in his lap.

  “Fuck,” I show the picture to G who repeats the same word that escaped me. As I look at the picture and try to study the background, my phone vibrates in my hand with another incoming message.

  I prepare myself for the worst. This time it’s a video, of Jeremy.

  “Don’t give………..” He screams into the camera but the clip’s cut short. Nothing else is said from anyone. The clip ends only seconds after it begins.

  A moment later another message comes through.

  Don’t do anything and your boy dies. Is that what you want?

  No – I immediately type back

  I want you on your own.

  Where?

  I’ll be in touch.

  When?

  I stand and stare at the phone in my hand, no response. I don’t dare move, I’m waiting for the response.

  WHEN? I type again.

  No response.

  “G, can we track his phone?”

  “I’m already on it.” G must’ve gone and gotten his laptop because he’s already sitting at the desk trying to find Jeremy.

  “Whoever took him has to die.” Anger finds my body, my fists tighten and my jaw clenches as my heart rate spikes and I feel like a bull to a red cloth. I’m going to kill whoever took him.

  “I know.”

  “No, G, you don’t understand.”

  “I hear ya, Frankie. They’ve gotta die.”

  “G” I snap at him. He looks up and away from the laptop. I raise my eyebrows at him and tilt my head down a little. The corner of my mouth twitches as G realises the importance of my words.

  “Frankie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I never pull the trigger; I just give the order to. But today, I’ll be pulling that trigger.” My body goose bump as an eerily calm feeling washes over me.

  “That’ll be blood on your hands, are you sure?”

  “The moment my father died from his heart attack, the moment I took over, I had blood on my hands. This business isn’t unicorns and fairy floss. I can sleep soundly at night and this’ll be no different, G. They took something that belongs to me, they’re hurting someone close to me, and now they must meet their maker. I’d do it for you, and I’ll do it for him.” My voice has a steady tone.

  “Then we’d best find who took him and get him back to you,” G continues working on his laptop. “His phone’s been switched off; I can’t get a signal for him.”

  “Keep it locked on him, where was the last signal for him?”

  G taps away, his fingers not leaving the keyboard and his eyes are glued to the screen. He turns the laptop around and on the screen is a map. “Last signal was here.” He taps at the screen and indicates an area we run a lot of our drugs through.

  “Who do we have down there?”

  “Our main guy down there’s Antonio, we’ve got a crew and a few houses. If they’ve taken him there, our boys should have word. We’ve got eyes everywhere.”

  “Call Antonio, tell him we’re coming to see him.”

  G pulls his phone out and mine starts ringing in my hand.

  Blocked call, flashes up on the screen.

  “DeLuca.” I answer

  “Miss DeLuca. Have you had time to consider my offer?” That snake Betsy starts the call.

  “Yes I have, now go fuck yourself,” and I hang up on her.

  “What was that about?” G looks over to me.

  “Betsy wanting money, stupid money hungry bitch.”

  “We’re set to meet up with Antonio, he’s waiting for us.”

  I walk over to my desk, open the bottom drawer and take out my Glock. I check the rounds, and it’s good to go. G eyes me then the gun and lets out a huge sigh.

  “Thank God I taught you how to shoot, Frankie or I’d be worried you’d shoot your damn foot off.”

  “Piss off old man, you know my aim’s good. Now let’s find these damn mother fuckers and get back to business.”

  Chapter 15

  We arrive at one of our distribution houses and the outside’s surrounded with a tall brick wall with barbed wire above stopping anyone from getting in, or out, without the knowledge of my crew inside. There are security cameras staring down at the gated entrance and various cameras throughout the midsize lot where the small house is placed. Dad had bought this place and he used it as a lab for cutting and making ice. But once I took over, I got rid of that shit and now this house is effectively a distribution house for cocaine, the largest we have. Built beneath the house is a huge storage container, totally concealed and unable to be detected, and completely filled with hundreds and hundreds of kilos of cocaine. We’ve been raided by police trying to make a name for themselves many times before. DEA has tried, even FBI has made their appearance. The room below is so well hidden, that it’s virtually impossible to know it’s there, unless you know it’s there.

  The gates to the house open and we park right in front. When we enter all the security guys stand to the side and look down at the floor.

  “Boys,” I greet them in a general sense.

  “Mam,” is repeated by virtually all of them. Antonio emerges from one of the back rooms.

  “Leave us,” I instruct all the men.

  “Frankie, you’re looking good.” Antonio leads us into his office.

  “What’s happening down here, Tony?” I sit at the chair behind the desk, giving me the power and giving Antonio the very clear message he’s not in control. He takes a seat opposite me and G sits over on the small lounge in the office.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, word on the street is Miloni wants to take you down and bombed one of your restaurants this morning.”

  “He didn’t bomb it. But someone else did and took a few of his men out, trying to start a war between us.”

  “I heard that your, um, friend was taken this morning, too.” He averts his eyes.

  “And his phone was last active around here.”

  “I really don’t know what to tell ya, Frankie, my boys are…”

  “My boys, Tony, not yours. You all work for me.”

  “Yeah yeah, that’s what I meant. The boys are talking shit saying you’re losing your touch.”

  “They are, are they?”

  “Not all of them, but a couple are running their mouths.”

  “Interesting. Who?”

  “I’ll take care of it, you don’t need to…”

  “Who?” I study my fingernails as I ask with more malice in my tone.

  “Jason, Rocky and Lance.”

 
; “Is that all?”

  “The only ones I heard speaking about everything.”

  “Did they give anything else away, Antonio?” I look up from studying my nails and sit back in the seat.

  “Nah, just that they think that you’re going, um, soft and letting this Senator bloke rule you. They think you’re losing control and that you’ll kill the business, they’re worried about themselves and their families.” Gee, how quickly word travels.

  I flick a look over to G and slightly raise my eyebrows.

  G stands up and claps a hand to the back of Antonio’s shoulder.

  “You did good, Tony,” he says as he slaps his back once more before he leaves the room.

  “What else is happening down here, Tony? What have I missed out on these past few days?”

  “Nothing, everyone’s behaving. Do you wanna take a look at the supply room?”

  “Do I need to?”

  “Not at all. G’s on top of it and comes down for his inspections.”

  “Show me the books.”

  Antonio stands up and leaves the room. Moments later he’s back with his laptop. He opens it up and sets it in front of me, producing a USB, he plugs it in and a few spread sheets open up.

  “Have you got the hard copy, Tony?”

  “Yep, hang on.” Again he leaves and as he leaves G enters the room, wiping his hands on his pants. No blood’s on him, so I assume it all went to plan.

  “All good, G?”

  “We will be; we’ve got another meeting after here. Down at one of our storage sheds. The boys are meeting us down there; I sent them on an errand first.”

  Tony walks back in carrying an exercise book. He hands it to me and sits down. His eyes dart around and I notice sweat beading on his forehead.

  “What’s wrong, Antonio? You look nervous.” I ask him.

  “Not at all.”

  I open the book to the latest pages and start looking over the figures. I correlate between the spread sheets and the books and see a few minor discrepancies. Working backwards, the missing figures are getting larger and larger. I flick my eyes up to Antonio and he’s now sweating profusely. He’s squirming around in his seat and he can’t make eye contact with me. I look over to G who now stands to his full height behind Antonio.

  “Anything you wanna tell us, Tony?”

  “No no, I mean no. Nothing,” He’s shaking his head as he’s looking around.

  I go back to the book and notice the last three pages are all written in the same color pen, by the same handwriting, whereas all the other pages have been written with different color pens and different styles of hand writing. Examining the book I see where the staples are in the centre, a small piece of paper clinging to it, like pages that have been ripped out and re written.

  “Last chance before G takes your tongue out of your mouth with a pair of scissors,” G clasps his shoulder and I watch as his fingers are digging into Tony’s skin.

  The next thirty seconds happen as time is completely suspended. Nothing moves forward, nothing moves back. The hands on the clock still and the air in the room smothers with contempt and hatred.

  Tony pushes his chair back, swings around, upper cuts G, tossing him to the floor. As G stumbles back and falls, Tony produces a gun from his waist band and aims it at G.

  I stand with so much force that my chair topples over and hits my calf.

  With my heart throbbing in my ears, adrenalin has now taken over.

  Simultaneously Tony shoots G, as I draw my gun from my waist band and shoot Tony.

  Tony swings around and points his gun to me; I’ve shot him in the left shoulder, temporarily stunning him not to shoot G again. With his gun pointed to me I aim for his head but G gets to him first. With another ringing of the gun, Tony stumbles back a few steps and crumbles to the floor. G hoists himself up using the desk for support and I come around to stand next to him.

  Tony’s gurgling on the cold hard cement. He’s not dead yet, but the death rattle’s already set in and it won’t take long for his blackened soul to leave his body. I squat down next to him and bring my gun to his temple as I lift his head. I don’t care if I get blood on me.

  “Tell me who’s behind this.”

  “He… said… that… you…”his speech is broken, he can barely inhale air. “Must…be….” A small shallow breath, his chest isn’t working as hard as it was, his body relaxes, his head lolls back, his eyes half closed, his heart stops working.

  “Fuck!” I scream out as I drop his heavy head to the floor.

  I look over at G and he’s breathing’s a little erratic as I see ribbons of red coming from his shoulder.

  The door flings open and Marko runs in with his gun drawn flanked by several more men from the house.

  They look at G, their eyes then dart over to me and finally find the body that’s lying dead on the floor. Marko holsters his weapon and in three large strides is by my side.

  “You okay, Boss? No holes anywhere?”

  “I’m fine. G, you alright?”

  “Just a scrape.” But the blood’s seeping through his shirt, he’s holding his arm from his elbow close to his body as the crimson liquid falls fairly fast.

  “First aid kit,” I holler at Marko as he darts out of the room. The rest of the men in the house are gathering around the door to see what’s happening.

  Within minutes or possibly seconds Marko returns with a medical bag, he rips the top open and is already getting gauzes out.

  “It’s really not that bad,” G rolls his eyes as he’s sitting back in the chair that Tony was sitting on.

  Marko rips G’s shirt taking it off him and I see he’s right, the bullet’s only skimmed his right shoulder. It looks worse than it actually is.

  “Told ya, Frankie, you fucking stress for nothing. A damn band aid will fix this. I’ve had worse, and inflicted by worse.” He grins at me.

  “You’re a damn arsehole, G. Scared the shit out of me.” I kneel beside him and let my head lean on the arm of the chair as Marko applies a bandage.

  “You aren’t getting rid of me that easy, it’ll take more than a bullet to stop me.” He chuckles.

  Marko finishes with the wound and silently packs up to leave. The rest of the guys have left their hovering by the door. I walk over, close the office door and sit back down at the desk.

  “If Tony was dirty, that’ll mean more of the boys are, too. He was either working for someone or helping someone close to our family, G.”

  “Yeah I was thinking the same thing, what do you wanna do?”

  “Let’s go talk to the boys down at the storage shed, but I doubt they’ve got anything to do with this. Actually, I think they may have not agreed with Antonio about what was happening.”

  “I’ll meet you at the car, I wanna do a quick check on the merchandise downstairs.”

  “Sure.” G disappears and I walk out towards the car. All the guys are gathered around in the makeshift lounge room. Marko’s beside me when I stop to address the men.

  “Your gun ready?” I ask Marko, he gives me one small nod.

  “Antonio’s dead, and I’m after answers. If you know and don’t talk, then expect your family to die when I find out you’re involved. If you talk now, Marko will put one bullet in your head and that’ll be the end of it. The choice is yours and no one else’s. You run, I’ll find you, I’ll torture your family as you watch, then I’ll kill them and maim you but leave you alive to know that I fucked with your life; I’ll make sure you’re broken and I’ll make sure that you don’t take your own life because I’ll have you suffer for the rest of your natural born existence. One chance is all I’m giving. Step forward to meet your death if you’re involved.” I stand back and watch as some of the men stare around the room, some are shuffling on the spot and a couple are looking nervous. “Can you sit there and watch as I give the order to have your wife sodomised? Or remove the eyes of your sister? Because if you can, then remain silent and get ready for the show.” I look a
round once more and two men step forward. With a look to Marko, he’s instantly drawn and fired his weapon. Both men are dead, the others standing in close proximity have blood and brain matter splattered on them. But I don’t move, I wait to see if I have any other takers. No one says a word, no one makes eye contact, and no one even breathes wrongly.

  “Clean them up. Next time I’m here I don’t want a stain or a stench in the house.”

  A few move around and start lifting the bodies, I leave them to it. I don’t need to be here to watch the clean-up.

  Marko opens the front door for me and once I’m through, he jogs ahead of me to open the car door. I slide in and wait for G. G gets in next to me after only a few moments.

  “We good down there, G?”

  “Everything looks fine, I’ll come back tomorrow and check it all out properly.”

  I nod but remain quiet. My mind starts thinking about the situation at hand.

  Antonio was working for or with someone else to take me down.

  Two men stepped forward who were working for the unknown.

  The unknown has Jeremy.

  The unknown could still be one of my men. A smarter one who’s been plotting to take me down, using the others as puppets by hiding behind them.

  Then there’s Betsy, Jeremy’s mother who doesn’t give a shit about him and just wants to line her pockets.

  I’ve not heard nor have I listened to any conversation that’s been happening in the car, if there’s been any talk. But when I look out the window, Marko’s brought us to the Brent Street storage shed we own.

  The storage shed is essentially an old factory unit, surrounded by the same old factory units. The DeLuca family owns the entire block but only one’s been sound proofed, has steel walls and floors with drainage pipes, making blood and broken bodies easier to dispense of. It’s a little different to the chamber I’ve got back at the house, this one’s used more for slow painful extractions of admissions and information.

  Jason, Rocky and Lance are already here and waiting inside, but before I get to go through the door that G’s holding open for me my phone pings with a text message. It’s Jeremy’s number, as I open the text it’s another picture of Jeremy looking worse than he was in the first message and video. I can tell by the way he’s slumped and his head’s hanging to the side that he’s not going to withstand much more of whatever they’re doing to him. His clothes are blood stained, his eye has swelled up and is closed, he’s tied to the chair and he looks defeated.