“I don’t understand you, Hunter.”
“I see that,” he pushed back a strand of hair behind her ear. “Give it time. Let’s get your grandma her cake.”
***
Aliana’s cell phone rang, it was the school and she had to take it. That left Hunter staring at Mrs. Jankovic.
“She doesn’t look upset. You did good.” The old woman looked pleased. “How are you going to fix things for my granddaughter?”
He liked this woman a lot. No wonder she was friends with his Mamie.
“I thought we might finish the cake before we got into the third degree.”
“Third degree?”
“Interrogation,” he explained as he took another bite of cake.
“Do you like it?”
“It’s fantastic. What kind is it again?”
“Marlenka honey cake. It is my mother’s recipe from the old country. Now, how are you going to make things better?”
He considered what to tell her.
“I’m going to call in a friend of mine,” he started.
“Phhhft. Not that. How are you going to fix it with her emotions?”
“What?” What was she talking about?
“My Aliana has been locked up into herself for many years. She has never worked past what happened the year her father died and you left. Were you her boyfriend?”
He set down his empty plate and gave her his full attention.
“She was my best friend in the world.”
“What were you doing in her bedroom that night?”
“At your son-in-law’s wake, she told me she never wanted to see me again. I had to understand why, so I went to see her.”
The old women peered deeply into his eyes. “I believe you. Now tell me what you are going to do to make her happy.”
“I’m still trying to get a handle on that.”
“A handle?” she asked.
“I’m still trying to figure it out.”
She grabbed both of his big hands in her frail ones. “Well, let us figure it out together.”
“I can’t right now, I have to go out and keep watch.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mrs. J. since someone blew up Aliana’s house, I’m worried about both of your safety. I want somebody watching your house at all times.”
“But you can’t do that. You need to sleep.”
“I’ll have a friend who will be here tonight to take over.”
“Who?”
“His name is Dalton Sullivan. He’s a SEAL too. He’s on my team.”
“A sailor?”
“Yes, a sailor,” he sighed.
“Strong like you?”
“Yes.”
“Big like you?”
Hunter paused.
Mrs. Jankovic laughed. “Nobody is as big as you are.”
Hunter thought about Drake Avery and Zed Zaragoza. “I know two who are the same size,” he said wryly. “But I don’t think they’re available.” But maybe…
She let go of his hands and patted his arm. “I like sailors. You’re good boys. Aliana will see that. You come back tomorrow. I’ll make breakfast.”
He got up, picked up his dish, and held out his hand to take hers back to the kitchen. She stood up as well.
“Now bend down.” She kissed his cheek. “You protect us. Find these ugly guys. I want my granddaughter safe.”
“I promise.”
He left her house and went across the street to Mamie’s car. It was a beige Buick that didn’t look out of place in the neighborhood. But him sitting in it for hours on end would. That was fine with him. He wanted to put people on notice that these women were being watched over. He pulled out his phone and called Zed first.
“It’s been a long time. Why the late call?” Zed asked.
“I’m taking a chance. I’m basically on top of the El Monte busway, close to the 60 Freeway.”
“What the fuck are you doing there at this time of night? That’s not where your grandmother lives.” Zed was pissed.
“An old friend has a problem.”
“I don’t care. Get your ass back to Coronado. Unless you’re visiting your grandmother, you stay out of gang territory. I told you that sixteen years ago. That life has to be dead to you.”
Now Hunter was pissed. Zed might be second-in-command of his unit. He might have been the one who put him on the straight and narrow all those years ago, but he sure as hell didn’t need him talking to him like he was some sort of dimwitted child.
“Zed, I called you for a reason. If you’re going to be an asshole, I’ll hang up.”
The silence was so long, Hunter looked down at his phone to see if his friend had hung up. Nope, they were still connected.
“Just got back from a bad one four days ago. Lost a man.”
Hunter was stunned. A SEAL dead, and he hadn’t heard about it? “Did I know him?”
“He was our liaison. Didn’t pay attention to orders. Still doesn’t matter, it was on my watch.” It wouldn’t matter. Hunter might never have served with Dante ‘Zed’ Zaragoza, but he knew what kind of man, what kind of second-in-command he was. He would see this as a personal failure.
“What’s next for you?”
“We just spent a shit ton of time doing debriefs. We’ve got downtime, and it’s been suggested, strongly, that I take some leave. Apparently, they think I’m close to the edge.”
“Are you?”
“No.” Another long pause. “Yeah, maybe a little. I feel guilty, but you suck it up. This is part of the job. If I thought I couldn’t lead men into battle and handle the consequences, I’d hang up my boots.”
Hunter smiled. Now that was the man he knew. “But it would make command happy if you took leave?”
“What do you have in mind? Because as much as I suggested you stay out of the ’hood, same goes for me.”
“I have an old friend. Went to school with her. She was two years younger than me, and―”
“Aliana Novak,” Zed interrupted. “I looked her up when I approached you. I investigated everything about you, Kid.”
Hunter hadn’t been called a kid, well, except for Zed, he’d never been called a kid.
“Anyway, she’s the Vice Principal of Bertrum High School, and her house just got blown up. By sheer luck, she didn’t die.”
“Who’s targeting her?”
“One of the local gangs. I’ve got to find out which one, but she needs protection. I’m calling in a friend from Black Dawn. We’re between missions, so Gray should give him leave. But it would be really helpful to have another set of eyes who know their way around here.”
“She’s a Vice Principal? Who would have guessed it?”
“Not me. But she doesn’t want me here.”
“But you’re staying, anyway?”
“What do you think?”
Zed chuckled. “Let me straighten some things out. I’ll be there day after tomorrow.”
“Sounds good,” Hunter said, hanging up the phone.
Hunter saw a dark Charger coming down the street, driving very slowly. He got out of his car and leaned against the driver’s side door, his arms crossed over his massive chest, waiting to see who was driving. The car was matte black, and he saw two young Hispanic men in the front seat and two in the back. He stared at them. They slowed down even more, the stupid fucks. The passenger put a Smith and Wesson .38 on the dashboard for him to see. He pushed back one side of his windbreaker and gave them a glance of his Sig Sauer pistol. They stopped the car. Even dumber. Who knew, he might be giving his body armor a work out after all. He walked up to the car and waited for them to speak. It didn’t take long for them to break the silence.
“You don’t belong here,” the driver said belligerently.
Hunter just stared at them. They were young, not even twenty.
“Did you hear me? I said pack it up.”
Hunter still didn’t respond. The driver turned to his three friends. “Dummy can’t even sp
eak,” he said in Spanish. “The bitch has got herself a retard to guard her.”
Everyone in the car started laughing. The driver casually reached for the .38 on the dashboard. Hunter waited, knowing what was next. The driver turned his wrist sideways.
“Do you see what I have for you? Do you?” He jabbed the gun into Hunter’s belly, hitting his body armor. It took a split second for Hunter to disarm him and shove the gun into the young man’s skull.
“Don’t call those ladies bitches. Understand?” he said in Spanish. He gave a quick glance to the two in the backseat and laughed. “Don’t make a move for your little pea-shooters. Really, you’re both sporting .22s?”
Neither one of them looked old enough to shave. Both slunk down in their seats. The one in the passenger seat, tattoos crawling up his neck, glared at Hunter.
“What do you want?” the driver asked, a hint of a stutter in his voice.
“It’s not what I want. I was just standing here minding my own business, when you four ass-clowns show up, deciding to wave your pieces. Why are you here?”
“No reason.”
Hunter dug the tip of the pistol into the guy’s flesh, hard, and he hissed out a breath.
“I can do this all day. As a matter of fact, it’s breaking up the monotony.” Hunter twisted the gun so that the tip dug deeper. This time, the man let out a squeak of pain.
“Mateo told us to see if the bitch’s granddaughter was here,” the driver said.
That was good, they weren’t sure Aliana was here, but who was Mateo?
“You Las Nuevas Espadas?” Hunter asked.
A series of ‘No’ and ‘Fuck No’, resounded through the car.
“Those guys are pussies,” the driver said.
“You need to come up with a new insult,” Hunter admonished. “So you’re Los Demonios?”
“Goddamn right, we are,” the one in the in the passenger seat said. He pulled down his wife-beater tank and pointed proudly at a tattoo of some kind Halloween figure. Hunter figured it was supposed to be a demon. “See. We’re Los Demonios,” he said proudly.
“What do the Los Demonios want with Mrs. Jankovic’s granddaughter?” Hunter asked.
“She’s messing with our family,” the driver said. “Mateo is pissed. She’s causing trouble, stirring things up.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
Hunter looked at tattoo boy. “How?”
“It’s above my rank. We’re just supposed to check to see if she’s here. Just Mateo, the other lieutenants, and San Marcos really know what’s going on. We only heard the rumors.”
“Let me get this straight. The leader of the gang called the Demons is St. Mark?”
“Pretty cool, huh?” The tattoo guy smiled. Hunter shook his head. To think he used to be a part of this madness.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the kids in the back fumble with his gun. Hunter, gripped the driver with his left hand by the throat, easily cutting off his air, then aimed his gun at the teen in the back.
“Do you want to die today? Are you straight with God? Been to mass recently? What’s your Mama going to say?”
The kid blanched.
“Put the gun on the floor.” He motioned to the other kid. “You too.” He kept an eye on tattoo boy as well. The driver was trying to break his hold, but it was impossible. He was thrashing and turning purple. “Better hurry before your friend runs out of air.”
“You won’t kill him.”
“Won’t be the first time I killed somebody, not by a long shot. Won’t be the last.”
“Who the fuck are you?” tattoo boy asked.
“I’m a friend of Mrs. Jankovic. I’m also a friend of her granddaughter. I don’t give a shit if she’s messing with your family. I consider them my family. Got it?”
The guns were put on the floor of the car. He released the unconscious driver who slumped onto the steering wheel.
“Guess you’ll be driving,” he said to the guy in the passenger seat. “I want you gone. Tell this guy Mateo to leave these women alone.”
Tattoo boy laughed. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
“No, he doesn’t know who he’s dealing with,” Hunter chuckled. “Just pass the message along. Now you two ass-clowns, pick up your guns by the muzzle and hand them to me.”
“But―”
“Do it,” the guy in the front seat said.
Hunter collected the two small caliber guns, then backed away from the car. He watched as the tattooed guy got out of the car and went to the driver’s side so he could take over driving.
“Mateo is going to be pissed,” he said as he passed Hunter.
“Tell Mateo I’m already pissed, so we’re even. Now get the fuck out of here.”
He watched as the car took off down the street at a much faster speed than when it arrived. Damn, the license plates were missing.
Yep, he definitely needed backup.
He put the three extra guns in the trunk of his grandmother’s Buick. Sitting in the car, he pulled out his phone.
Dalton was number one on his speed dial. They’d been through BUD/S together, but hadn’t ended up on the same team. Hunter was lucky, he’d always been on Black Dawn, Dalton had been assigned to a team which had eventually disbanded. Though they hadn’t been on the same missions together, they’d remained close, even during that miserable final year Dalton spent with Cindy. And the tragic ending that ripped at Hunter’s guts whenever he thought about it.
He blew out a breath through clenched teeth and whispered a quick prayer up to heaven. Then he called Dalton.
“Hey. Wondered when you’d call.”
“Now. I’m calling now.”
Dalton chuckled. “Whatcha need?”
Hunter loved that. No question in his mind, he was going to help Hunter out.
“Did Gray say anything?” Hunter asked.
“You’re kidding, right? Our lieutenant reveal any personal information? Hell, we could waterboard him, and he still wouldn’t tell anyone your favorite fingernail polish. You still like to wear hot pink, right?”
Hunter appreciated Dalton’s teasing. The man knew something was up and was trying to make him relax.
“Fuchsia. They call it fuchsia. We need to work on your metro-sexualness.”
“So, what’s up, Diaz?”
“I’m up in East L.A. Gang territory. There’s a new gang who has its sights set on an old friend.”
“Aliana?”
Hunter didn’t know how to respond.
“You talked a lot about her in BUD/S. I can’t imagine anyone other than your grandmother who would have you going back home.”
“Yeah, it’s her. They blew up her townhome last night. She’s lucky she escaped with her life.” Hunter heard a cabinet closing over the phone.
“How soon do you need me there?”
“How soon can you get here?”
“Just give me the address, I’m already packing.”
“Mamie has a washing machine you can use,” Hunter grinned.
***
Hunter was beginning to get a feel for the neighborhood. It was a good, hard-working, poor community who looked after one another. He’d been approached four times by concerned citizens, usually in groups. But one older lady, who reminded him of Mamie, came bearing a cup of coffee. When he saw her approach, he got out of his car.
“Magda told me what you’re doing. She goes to bed early, but wanted me to make sure you stayed alert.”
“Thank you, ma’am. That’s awfully thoughtful of you.”
He took a sip of the coffee and hid his grimace. This wasn’t coffee, it was ground up coffee beans mixed with a tablespoon of water. He’d never tasted such sludge.
“This isn’t to my taste, but she said you were a sailor and would like it really thick. I brought you some brownies too.” She handed him a Tupperware container. “Do you want me to come and top you off later?”
“I’m goo
d,” he choked out.
“How about some milk to go with the brownies? Magda didn’t say anything about sailors liking milk, but my husband likes milk when he eats my brownies.”
God, yes. Anything to get rid of the taste in his mouth.
“That would be very nice, Ma’am.”
“Call me Beatrice.”
“Thank you, Beatrice.” He continued to look around her so he could keep watch of the Jankovic house.
“I’ll be back.” She gave a small wave. When he saw another car approaching, he leaned into the Buick and grabbed his water bottle and took a quick drink. The police car pulled in behind him, but its lights didn’t come on. The officer got out of the car and came over to him.
“Are you Ernie?” Hunter asked.
“Lottie called me. I assume you’re Hunter Diaz?” Hunter nodded. “Got some I.D.?”
Hunter pulled out his wallet and showed him his driver’s license, military I.D. card, and Concealed Weapons Permit.
“Good to meet you.” Ernie held out his hand.
Hunter stared at it. Ernie scowled. “What’s with the attitude?”
“Why haven’t I seen any cops driving by tonight? You’re the first one in five hours.”
“What are you talking about, there should have been at least one an hour?”
“There hasn’t been.”
“Hold on, let me check on this.” He walked briskly back to his car. He was obviously pissed, which made Hunter happy. Then he spied Beatrice. She had his milk.
“Is something wrong? Is he harassing you? I can go talk to him if you need me to.”
Hunter took the glass of milk and drank down half of it, then swiped his mouth.
“No, he’s a friend.” The last thing he needed was Beatrice going to bat for him with the cop. How had he ended up with a Lady’s Brigade rushing to defend, feed, and investigate things? Mamie, sure, but the rest of them? It was getting kind of spooky. Wait until Zed and Dalton ran up against them.
“You don’t look sure,” she interrupted his musings. “I’m part of the neighborhood watch. I have a badge and everything. Let me go speak with him.”
Hunter put a hand on her shoulder. “Seriously, he’s a good guy. He’s looking over Mrs. Jankovic and Aliana too.”
“Really? Well, he’s not doing a good job of it.” Ernie was walking back. “Shouldn’t you have been here sooner?” Beatrice asked the man. “If you’re watching out for my neighbor, you should do a better job.”
Her Passionate Hero Page 7
