by Frank, S. W.
Anarchy
Alfonzo Book III
COPYRIGHT April 2012 S.W.FRANK
All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be stored in a retrieval system or used without the author’s written permission.
Note: All characters and events are fictitious. Any likeness to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental and a product of the author’s vivid imagination.
Acknowledgments
To the enthusiastic readers who enjoyed the Alfonzo series and encouraged me to do more, well I have listened and here’s more. Congratulations to Kiki, your name is now a character’s name in this book. Hooray, girl!
To my wonderful friends Robin, her daughter Skyy, Rachelle and Celeste, thank you. Carlos, your spirit, charisma and giving heart were the beginnings of my inspiration. To my relatives, friends and supporters from the U.K., Puerto Rico and Barbados, love is universal. Thanks Sally, umwah, chica!
-And most of all to my group of young soldiers who are steadfast and loyal. My loves; Cam, Brit and Kris, you see beauty in all things, lament at the injustices of the world and the suffering of the innocent. Hold still; hear the whisper of truth, for goodness is mighty and hatred is a malady of an infirmed and diseased soul. Stay true to goodness; it is the path through a chaotic world. Goodness blooms, inspires and loves. Hatred, decays the heart, and corrodes everything in its path, even innocence!
Thank you family for the encouragement, especially on days when the world is whistling by and I’ve retreated to my writer’s corner to do what brings me immense pleasure. I reiterate, you all provide the fuel for this passion and I love you dearly –Umwah!
-S. W. frank
NOVELS BY S.W.FRANK
ASCENSION: ALFONZO VOLUME ii
ALFONZO
A HOUSE OF BRICK AND MORTAR
THE SISTERS OF CAIN AND ABEL
Table of contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
PROLOGUE
~In a perfect world without greed or ambitions there exists no anarchy; but this is not that world. ~
~Alfonzo
WINTER. TOLEDO, OHIO.
Mirshman loved the nightshift. It allowed him autonomy in the lab. There was none of the incessant chatter from co-workers or an annoying supervisor to hover over his shoulder. At night, he had none of the external distractions which might interfere with his personal project. If management discovered his extra-curricular activity, he’d get fired on the spot. He examined the risks, very carefully. Dissecting it like a grade school biology experiment, fearful at first, then as testing progressed, realized the puny frog was dead and could not hurt him.
Perhaps, they might have him arrested, or he’d lose his pharmacology license –but that was highly unlikely. He knew the company very well. Their pristine reputation was at stake; they were similar to the lifeless frog. The worst they’d do is let him go with an empty warning. You see, the danger with good reputations are companies, even people would do anything to protect it.
A senior chemist formulating street drugs in their lab would tarnish the perfect image, certainly open the door to inquiry and negatively affect their stock value. Therefore, they’d lie there like a dead frog, green and mottled.
It’s true, he violated the company trust for personal gain, but a quarter of a million dollars was an attractive inducement. It was equivalent to five years’ salary without tax deductions. He could pay off the house, take an overdue vacation and buy his wife a new minivan. All-in-all, a nice chunk of money for developing an oral drug for human consumption. The monetary reward was too tempting to reject!
Anyway, it hadn’t taken long to concoct a usable product, only two weeks, during which time he experimented with synthetic and natural substances, mindful of his client’s request for a cost effective product, one which was easily replicable. He chose a natural substance and a trace amount of a synthetic compound found OTC.
Ideally, new drugs underwent four phases of testing and subjects were carefully monitored before receiving approval from the FDA. Mirshman’s limited testing consisted of a trial study using hamsters over the course of fourteen days. In the first week, Smurfy, one of his son’s pet hamsters died, the other became hyperactive and during the second week, grew listless before going into a comatose state. They buried Murfy out in the backyard next to his rodent friend Smurfy, all the while he comforted his nine year old son who couldn’t quite understand why his healthy beloved pets died. He feigned ignorance and went out and replaced the crepuscular animals, making the boy happy once more!
This spurred him to adjust the dosage, to include a benign ingredient to the mixture which resulted in a near perfect designer drug ready for immediate street distribution.
Mirshman removed his jacket, put on the dingy white lab coat and settled on a rolling stool in front of the long counter filled with everything he needed, courtesy of Hilbrendt Pharmaceuticals. He snapped on a pair of blue latex gloves, concentrated on the items spread neatly in front of him then went to work. He ground the tablets with a pestle into a fine powder, measured, and then used a small funnel to insert the ingredients into an empty dissolvable capsule. Throughout the night he alternated between the boring task of punching in formulary codes and packaging capsules before tomorrow’s deadline.
He glanced at a cheap aesthetic clock on the wall. To think, the company made billions of dollars and skimped on a more appealing timekeeper. Functional and minimalist work stations were throughout the building, except for the administrative offices upstairs. The company splurged there. Companies like Hilbrendt stayed in the black by giving workers the bare necessities, even when it came to salaries.
Time passed quickly and by two a.m. he was done. At three in the morning the client arrived through a back door using the key Mirshman had given. When he entered the lab Mirshman waved the tall, muscular man over where his order waited.
“It’s done?”
“Not a complicated formula, good eye-hand coordination and anyone can manufacture it. Won’t pass FDA, though, a CNS depressant combined with a stimulant can have adverse, even fatal effects for people with compromised immune systems. ”
The muscular man leaned his elbows on the hard counter eyeing the assortment of instruments. He wasn’t interested in the chemists’ warnings; his only objective was retrieving the formulary compound. “Walk me through the process and I’ll judge for myself how simple it is.”
He gave the client a rudimentary lesson in chemistry, simultaneously pointing to the unprocessed chalky substance, as he directed the man on the proper weights and measures. The man followed instruction to the letter, a natural, judging by the ease in which he worked.
“You’re right, anyone can do it.”
“The capsule is completely dissolvable, has a sugar coating, giving it a candy taste.” Mirshman chuckled pleased with himself, “I added that little touch myself.”
“Clever.”
“Have you stored any records during the experimentation process?”
“He
ll no, it’s in my head.”
“Our business is finished, then?”
“Yes,” Mirshman smiled agreeably. The only thing left to do was settle the balance of his fee. The client reached in his pocket for what Mirshman believed was payment for services rendered; instead his smile faded as metal pierced his throat.
The chemist’s lifeless body dropped at the man’s feet. He stooped down, removed Mirshman’s wallet, watch and cell phone then looked around. Atop a corner desk he spotted a backpack and laptop. The items were scooped up, stuffed inside the backpack and carried to the counter. He casually searched under the cabinet for cleaning products, found some and meticulously sterilized the work station, removing any trace of his existence or Mirshman’s moonlighting activities.
CHAPTER ONE
“Do not remember the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions; according to your mercy remember me, for your goodness sake, o lord.”
~Psalms 25:7
A gloved fist skid across Alfonzo’s golden skin; it squealed as it contacted with the moisture on his forearm, stopped in mid-air then retracted. Alfonzo skipped away, shuffled his feet, and took a jab at his opponent’s flat stomach. He advanced, putting his opponent on the defensive with a series of left-right combinations which landed with lightning precision.
“Come on Selange block, block!” He exclaimed.
Her hands went up, and the light brown eyes tinged with hazel peered over the red boxing gloves in search of an opening. The eyes settled on Alfonzo’s shirtless torso and his glistening skin. The sweat highlighted the muscular contours and deep ridges etched along his well-conditioned form.
“Elbows close to the body!”
‘Pap, pap, pap, pap-pap-pap,’ echoed in the gym as Alfonzo’s feathered strikes contacted with Selange’s cheek, midsection and other unguarded spots. Their gym shoes squeaked as they crisscrossed the mat, perspiration dripping from their bodies. Alfonzo’s offensive technique dominated his less disciplined opponent’s counter-attacks with ease. He shouted instructions, frowned at novice mistakes and smiled when she advanced with renewed vigor. She struck and danced away in time to avoid his counterpunch. After forty-nine minutes of this, she had finally established a rhythm.
“Much better…that’s it...yes…good!” He exclaimed while moving effortlessly from side-to-side giving her an opportunity to rethink her strategy.
Selange lowered her hands, “Hold up.”
Alfonzo halted, shook his head and waited patiently for his wife to adjust her Nike sports top. Her boobs floated to the rim of the spandex material, beckoning him. Aqua blue eyes traveled to her cleavage; she looked so goddamn hot, his pulse accelerated.
The clinging black shorts displayed her curvaceous hips, slim waist and long shapely legs. The more he ogled her body, the warmer he became. Her gloved hands went to her hips and Alfonzo lost focus when his sexy sparring partner smiled. Selange noticed the direction of his gaze and seized the opportunity. The distraction worked and she struck. An explosive jab landed atop his kidney and he coughed then clutched his flank. Sweat rolled from his freshly trimmed hairline down the bridge of his nose and he wiped it away. His broad chest heaved up and down, “Cheap shot, babe. You set me up.”
Pleased at her ability to go longer in the ring without getting winded, Selange smiled, “In a street fight, there aren’t rules, isn’t that what you said?
His blue eyes sparkled with pride. He certainly had. “Okay, that’s enough for today,” he said, feeling the effects of exertion and the minor pain to his bruised organ. He unlaced a glove with his teeth. Once his hands were free, Selange held out her wrists and he assisted in loosening her binds, “You’re getting better.”
“You make it fun.”
He scoffed, “Are you kidding, there’s another sport which is way more fun, feel me?”
Her eyes roved over his body, “Ummm, I feel you.” She stood on her tip-toes and brought her lips to his. He let her kiss away, smiling the entire time. She sucked his mouth, tasting the salt-mint flavored saliva. He opened wider, enjoying the pleasurable invasion, until finally his body caught fire and he chuckled, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
They lounged in bed, resting. Exercise and an intense lovemaking session had their repercussions. Exhaustion was one of them. Selange’s plush buttocks rested against Alfonzo’s stomach. He brushed aside her long curly hair and planted a lingering kiss to her neck. “Ummm,” she purred, pressing her head back.
His hand caressed her shoulder, sliding down her arm to the slope of her hips, “I love you.”
“I know. I love you, more.” She said to the air then turned on her back to stare into his face.
The closed drapes prevented the sun from filtering in the room, yet there was enough light to see her clearly. Alfonzo experienced an overwhelming sensation; love and doom.
“Hey, what’s going on in that head of yours?”
He didn’t know where or why it surfaced, the doom that is, but it crept like moss across his body and clung to it. He’d trained himself to listen to his gut, yet he had no idea what it was saying. He’d given up the life to become a doting husband and father; a son a mother would be proud to claim.
The base of his real estate operation was located here in Puerto Rico, however he maintained a New York office out of necessity. He recently completed a fifteen million dollar project in Carolina, a ten story commercial property for an international export company. Last week he received notification from the city of New York that his company’s RFQ got accepted. His development company was chosen to build eight affordable housing units in the Bronx. The contractual amount for construction wouldn’t yield much in profits, he didn’t care about that, instead he considered it a sort of recompense for wreaking havoc during his youth throughout the New York.
Next Monday he had a meeting with the Procuring Contracting Officer to finalize the contract. So far, life was good and his relationship with his wife, solid. Yet, the seeds of a sordid past were ever present and altruistic deeds did not eradicate it. The feds continuously snooped. Their failure to tie him to organized crime or any wrong-doings wasn’t a deterrent. Their covert operations were the main reasons Alfonzo stayed clean, maintained the highest level of security and didn’t trust anybody!
Over-all he was happy, not stupid. He was from the streets, not some rich or sheltered gringo without a clue about the real world. Inevitably, there’s a cost to living, the only question is how much?
“Where did you go?” She asked.
He blinked to reality, “I can’t believe I actually snagged a beautiful, smart and sexy woman.”
“Liar, you’re worried about something. Your eye’s twitching…right there,” she said pointing a finger to one of the corners.
“I’m thinking. Maybe we should cancel New York, and stay home this summer.”
She leaned up on her elbows, glorious breasts pointing to the ceiling; however it’s the questioning eyes he noticed. “We’ve already arranged for Sal to have a vacation with your family. Your mom will have a fit, besides Shanda and I plan to take Allie to the Muppet Show and FAO Schwartz –and what about your meeting and didn’t you ship your car to New York already?”
He shook off the apprehension, “No…no…you’re right, forget about it...it’s cool.”
“If something’s bothering you honey, please tell me. I can handle anything.”
“I know you can. I guess the thought of hanging out with you,” he kissed her rosy mouth for emphasis, “seems more appealing than going to New York.”
Selange relaxed, wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him down to her and said, “Anywhere with you is appealing.” Her tongue licked his throat, traveling slowly over his clean-shaven chin until it reached his lips. There came a provocative smile, “I’ll take care of you, I promise.”
Her supple tongue entered through the slits of his closed mouth. Gentle fingers stroked his thighs, moving to his phallus with slow deliberation. The dual stimulation cause
d him to thrust aside his concerns; he needed her badly. An all-consuming lust for his wife filled his head, naturally, it flowed throughout his body prompting action.
CHAPTER TWO
The unkempt apartment smelled of marijuana. The good, seedless kind. Homegrown shit, packaged and distributed in the good U-S-of A. Juan took a hit, pointed his pinky finger at the box of sweets delivered by a white-boy in a brown uniform a minute ago. He addressed his companion, Jésus. “Right there is a hundred g’s, believe it?”
Jésus whipped out a box-cutter, sliced open the top, reached in and pulled out a large striped bag. The contents rattled when he shook it, “These mother-fuckers are nice!”
“They’re selling at fifty a dime. You do the math, yo!”
A minimum of two thousand individual packages, containing ten tubular pills were right there in front of him. Juan’s math was about right. He hadn’t finished high school but when it came to money, the dude was a fucking mathematician. “There were five in each last time, they upped the amount. We’re in good, word!”
“I said it.” Juan took a long pull then leaned forward, “Distribute it to the boys, make sure they know fifty or nothing. Anybody come back short, gonna’ make it up with an ass-whupping, here me?”
Jésus nodded and began filling the duffle bag, aware of Juan’s eyes watching closely as he counted. Once done, he put the straps over the slim shoulders and hurried out the door. Juan finished off the blunt, settled back in the worn old love seat, smiling.
He pat his pants’ pocket, took out a folded paper and held it in the air. Some crackhead slipped a note under the door this morning. Likely, asking for a favor. The word got out about how good his shit was and now the crack heads came looking for a discount. He laughed, fucking maggots!
