by Glenn, Roy
Mike stood and watched while Jackie continued drop to money on losing hands. Once he had seen enough, Mike went and sat down. When Jackie lost all her money and got up from the table, Mike motioned for her to join him.
"Bad night," Mike said to her, stating the obvious.
"No more than any other night." Jackie laughed, trying to make light of it.
"Freeze says that you’re good people; that you and your boy are good earners. But you’re here a lot. Drop a lot of money." Mike signaled a waitress for a drink.
"I’d say that was the truth."
"It’s the way you play," Mike said nonchalantly.
"What do you mean?"
"I watched you play. I could tell when you had a good hand, and when your cards weren’t shit. I could tell when you were nervous. I could even tell every time you had a strong card, and when you were bluffing."
"Could you let me in on it, or is it a secret? I lost a lot of money to the house too. Your house."
"No, I don’t mind tellin’ you, Jackie. It’s written all over your face. It’s your eyes, actually."
Jackie smiled. "So, you were looking at my eyes?"
"You have very pretty eyes, but they betray you every hand. All anyone you’re gambling with has to do is watch your eyes."
"Anything else?" Jackie asked as the waitress set a glass of Remy Martin VSOP in front of Mike and asked her if she wanted anything.
"Hennessy."
"You’re reckless and greedy."
"Reckless and greedy!" Jackie barked, looking very incensed. "What do you mean by that?"
Mike took a sip of his Remy. "Before I answer your question, let me ask you one."
"Okay, go ahead," Jackie said excitedly. This was the longest conversation she’d had with Mike, and she planned on dragging it out for as long as she could. And that voice, hmm. Maybe I gave up on you a bit too soon, Mr. Black, Mike Black.
"Are you trying to make money gambling, or is this just a sport to you?"
"I’m trying to make money, no doubt. But I would be interested in hearing you explain the difference between the two." I’d be interested in hearing you explain how grass grows. "If you have time. I know that you’re a busy man, and I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me." I can’t believe you said that.
Mike looked at Jackie and let out a little laugh. "If you’re gambling for sport, you really don’t care if you make money or not. You just enjoy the game, the tension, the anticipation, and the camaraderie; that’s sport. But when you’re gambling to make money, then that’s all it’s about—money; fuck all the rest of that shit."
"From what you see, which one am I?"
"You gamble for the sport of it. That’s what makes you reckless and greedy." Mike paused and then went on to explain his point. "When you got money sittin’ in front of you, you make reckless bets, and when you lose, you try to laugh it off, like it’s only money."
Jackie had to laugh because she knew it was true. "That’s me."
"You chase the big pots." Mike paused to emphasize his point. "Greedy. And you chase them with weak hands, and since we already talked about your inability to bluff, that makes you reckless and greedy."
"Damn," Jackie said slowly. "You really have been watching me."
"Watching you lose, Jackie. Watching you lose money to me," Mike said and sat back in his chair.
"You have any advice for me? ’Cause I really am trying to make money. Yes, I enjoy the game, the tension, the anticipation, the camaraderie, all that good shit, but I need to make money. I ain’t making money like I used to."
"Then you have to learn some discipline. Get yourself and your emotions under control like you would be when you’re doin’ a job. And the most important thing is that you know how much money you want to make every time you sit down. When you’re gambling, you’re gonna win some and you’re gonna lose some. But if you’re any type of player, at some point during the night, you are going to have in front of you the amount of money you wanna make. Get up and say goodnight."
"Discipline."
"Jackie, I’ve seen you with ten, fifteen grand in front of you and then watched you lose it all. Discipline. You see, what the house wants is to keep you there and keep you coming back, because sooner or later, you’re gonna lose."
With that thought in mind, Jackie made a few changes the next time she sat down at the table; changes not only to her look, but to her attitude. Focus and discipline, baby, ’cause Jackie is here to get paid. She figured that if they were paying that much attention to her face, she would give them something else to look at. Her new "uniform" became a tight red leather jumpsuit that zipped up the front, which she opened just far enough to give everybody an excellent view of her cleavage. She even wore a push-up bra to make the twins outstanding.
On this particular night, her attire was a black leather jacket and pants. Jackie had on sunglasses, and her hair hung over the frames. When Travis and Freeze approached her, Jackie was raking in a nice-sized pot. Travis tapped her on the shoulder. "Jackie."
"What’s up, Travis?"
"Let me holla at you, Jackie."
Jackie turned around and lookedto look at Travis and saw Freeze standing next to him. "Hello, Freeze." Jackie pulled back from the table and stood up. "This must be something important."
"Of course it is," Freeze said and looked around the table. "Otherwise I wouldn’t bother you." This stopped any grumbles about Jackie leaving before they got started.
Jackie looked down at the money she had in front of her, trying to decide whether she needed to come back. "Fellas, as much as I’d love to stay here and continue to take your money, I gotta say goodnight."
Once they were away from the table, Jackie asked, "What’s up?"
"I need you to watch my back," Freeze replied. "You armed?"
Jackie unbuttoned her jacket and opened both sides to reveal her now signature push-up bra and a 9-millimeter in each holster. "Always armed and extremely dangerous."
Travis and Jackie followed behind Freeze until he saw Cynt coming toward him. "Where they at, Cynt?" Freeze asked.
Cynt looked around her spot. "There were three of them, but I don’t see them now," she replied. "No, wait. There they are."
"Where?"
Cynt pointed them out. "The two of them over by the bar," she said, and Freeze wasted no time heading in their direction.
Travis and Jackie had to walk quickly to keep up with Freeze. As he walked, Freeze took a gun out of his left pocket and held it close to his side. Travis and Jackie took out their guns and Freeze grabbed a bottle off a table as he passed.
"Hey, muthafucka!" Freeze yelled over the music.
One of the men turned toward him. At that moment, Freeze smashed the bottle into his face and pointed the barrel of his gun in the face of the other. "Thought you dumb niggas woulda learned something from last night. Maybe this will convince y’all," Freeze said as he cocked the hammer.
As Freeze prepared to shoot, he didn’t see the third man, who Cynt had told him about, pulling out his gun. But Jackie did.
"Freeze! Look out!" Jackie yelled. She raised her weapon and fired twice, hitting him in the chest with both shots.
Freeze fired his weapon and killed one of the men. Travis pointed his gun to the head of the man Freeze busted with the bottle.
"No!" Freeze yelled. "Don’t kill him."
With his gun still pointed at the man’s head, Travis took a step back slowly. Freeze grabbed the man’s shirt with one hand and a bottle with the other. "You tell D-Train to stay the fuck out my spots!" Freeze yelled and smashed another bottle into his face before dragging him out into the street. "Take those two to the parlor."
Travis looked at Jackie, who was still standing there with her gun raised. Travis took the gun out of her hand and put his arm around her as they left the spot. "Don’t worry, Jackie. You did what you had to do."
Chapter Five
It was after 11 p.m. when Mike and Nick arrived at the airport
in Miami. As soon as they got off the plane, Mike turned on his cell phone and it rang.
"I’m at the airport. Where are you?" asked Bobby.
"We just got here. We’re going to rent a car. Meet us there."
While Mike talked to Bobby, Nick stood by and listened nervously. This would be the first time that he saw Bobby since the night Bobby threatened to kill him. After that night, Nick joined the Army.
He became part of a special operations unit. On their last assignment, they were stationed in South America, working on an illegal drug eradication effort. They were killing drug dealers, blowing up drug plants, and seizing financial records. However, something went wrong on their final assignment, and the plant blew up with the servicemen still inside. Only three members of the unit, Nick, Jett Bronson, and Monika Wynn got out alive.
They were flown back to Fort Bragg, where they were promptly debriefed and processed out. A man who called himself Uncle Felix approached them the day after. He recruited them to do jobs for him that required their special skills. Jett’s specialty was electronic surveillance, and computers. Monika’s specialty was munitions. Nick’s specialty was weapons and special tactics.
Felix set them up in a front business as private investigators. To maintain their cover, they actually did some surveillance jobs. The real money was in doing those little jobs for Felix; hacking into computer systems, some light demolition, and the occasional termination. They would do jobs that couldn’t be done through normal channels.
It was after Chilly’s wife, Gee, hired them for a missing persons case that things started to go wrong for the trio. When it was all over, Felix and their Army commander, the General, were dead, as was Jett and Monika was in the hospital after an attempt on her life. Nick had flown to the Bahamas to recuperate after the ordeal, and that was when all hell broke loose in Black’s club.
And now, here he was standing with Mike, knowing he had no choice but to face Bobby again after all these years. Even though he didn’t think that Bobby would pull out his gun and shoot him on sight, the idea of finally having to confront Bobby made Nick very apprehensive.
Before all the shooting started, he had talked openly about the situation with Shy, more openly than he had with anybody. Shy told him that it was about betrayal. When Nick betrayed Bobby’s trust, she pointed out, "You said you felt like you betrayed everybody."
"And?" Nick asked.
"That includes you. You betrayed yourself. And that’s what hurts you," Shy told Nick. "So, now that you know the whole story, you’re gonna have to forgive yourself for what happened. You were just a pawn in whatever game this woman was playing. Maybe when you forgive yourself, it will be easier for you to ask Bobby to forgive you." Nick understood that, and he even pretty much agreed with her.
But that was then. Now Shy had been kidnapped, and Bobby was in Miami to help Mike look for her. Nick would have preferred better circumstances to put this Camille business to rest.
Thoughts of that night when Bobby wanted to kill him had haunted Nick for years, like a bad dream that never ended. Bobby, with his gun in Nick’s mouth, screaming that he would kill both Nick and Camille. It should have never happened, but Nick had never met any woman like Camille. It was the way she looked at him when they made love. For years, when he closed his eyes, it was Camille’s eyes looking up at him.
It began the first time Nick saw Camille and she walked right up to him. She put her left hand on his chest and looked into his eyes. From that moment on, Camille had Nick and she knew it. Each time he saw her after that, Camille made that point clear. When she called, Nick would come. What Camille wanted, he got for her. What she said, Nick did, without so much as a kiss. He felt like a fool carrying this around all these years. It was time for him and Bobby to make peace and finally lay their beef over Camille to rest. After all, the bitch has been dead for ten fuckin’ years.
When Nick and Mike arrived at the rental car counter, Bobby was already there and had begun the process of renting a car. Mike walked up behind Bobby and tapped him on the shoulder.
"I hope you got a black car."
Bobby turned around quickly. "No, it’s red," Bobby replied as he shook Black’s hand. Then he looked at Nick. Bobby nodded his head to acknowledge Nick’s presence before returning his attention to the reservation clerk. Nick stood back awkwardly and watched as Mike leaned on the counter and whispered to Bobby, who would glance over at him and the two of them would laugh. Nick felt like an outsider.
Once the rental was secured, Mike and Bobby came toward Nick. Mike passed by, but Bobby walked straight up to him.
Nick started, "Look, Bobby, I just wanna say—"
Bobby cut him off. "You can save whatever it is you think you gotta say to me. That shit is over, been over since the day somebody put two bullets in her brain." Bobby started to walk away, but turned around quickly. "Damn, it’s good to see you, Nick."
"You ladies coming?" Mike asked.
"Yeah, we’re coming," Bobby said as he hugged Nick.
Once they were in the car, Mike called Wanda. She told him where he could find the boat Destiny docked. He asked if she was able to find out who the boat was registered to. She informed him that it was registered to somebody named Esperanza Valasquez, and gave Mike her address. "You heard from Freeze?"
"Yes, but I’ll explain that to you when I see you," Wanda replied.
When they arrived at the place where Destiny was docked, Nick took a look around the area and could see one man standing guard on deck with an AK. "I can pick him off from here," Nick told Mike and Bobby.
"Bullshit," Bobby said quietly, not wanting to attract any attention.
"Go ahead," Mike said with a laugh as Nick put a silencer on his gun and took aim with his .45. He fired one shot and the hit the guard in the head.
Mike turned to Nick with a very serious look. "Why couldn’t you save Cassandra?"
"She pours a mean drink."
"She sure does," Mike said quietly, dropped his head a little and started for the boat. Even though he was doing his best not to show it, this shit was fuckin’ with Mike, and it was fuckin’ with him bad. No matter how he felt about it, he had to remain calm and strong. But it wasn’t easy. He couldn’t blame Nick for what happened. The only one he could blame was himself. He should have been there.
If I hadn’t lost my mind when Cassandra said that she would rather go to jail, then I would have been there to save her, instead of being off somewhere pouting like some spoiled fuckin’ child.
The worst part of it was that he felt so helpless. Well, at least now he was doing something. Mike wanted to scream, to hit somebody, to hurt somebody, to cause somebody pain. Mike wanted to kill somebody. He made a vow then to kill everybody involved, no matter how long it took.
When they got on the deck, Nick checked the pulse of the man he’d shot. "He’s dead," he said and began to drag the man below.
"You sure this time? I mean, he ain’t gonna get up and kidnap me later, is he?" Bobby asked.
"Stop fuckin’ with him, Bobby. He probably feels bad enough already," Mike said.
"Oh, it’s all right when you fuck with him, huh?" Bobby asked as they went below.
When Bobby opened the door with his gun drawn, he found two men. Julio was lying on the bed with his eyes closed, and another man was seated in the chair next to him. As soon as he saw Bobby come through the door with his gun pointed at him, the man stood up and raised his hands.
"Please don’t kill me."
Nick patted down the man to be sure that he wasn’t armed, then took a look around the room and left to check the rest of the boat. Mike stepped up to the man.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Carlton, Daniel Carlton. I’m a doctor. I was brought here by force to treat this man."
"You can put your hands down," Mike said and put his arm around the doctor. "Is he gonna be okay?"
"He suffered a gunshot wound to the abdomen. He is very weak from the blood loss. I thi
nk that he’ll be fine if he is allowed to rest and give the wound time to heal," the doctor went on to explain.
"Where’s the woman they had with them?"
"I don’t know. I left her and the other man on deck, and I came down here to treat this man."
"You know what this other man’s name was?"
"No, I don’t. Nobody said any names, and they always spoke in Spanish, except when he was talking to me."
"Was he a white man?"
"Yes."
"The woman, was she all right?" Mike asked.
"Yes, from what I could tell. But she looked scared."
"Did you hear them say where they were goin’?"
"If they said where they were going, they said it in Spanish, and I wouldn’t have understood them anyway. Sorry I can’t be any more help," the doctor said. It was obvious from the way his voice cracked when he talked that he was scared too.
Nick came back into the room. "Rest of the ship is clean."
Mike picked up the doctor’s bag, handed it to him. "You can go now, doctor. I think that we can handle it from here." Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out some money. He peeled off five hundred-dollar bills and handed them to the doctor, then he turned to Nick. "Would you mind showing the doctor out?"
"Not at all."
"Thank you, thank you," the doctor said as he left the room, thankful to be leaving with his life.
When Nick returned, Bobby slapped the shit of out Julio. "Wake up, asshole! Where’s the woman you took from the club?" he demanded to know. Julio opened his eyes and looked at Bobby and then to Black. When he saw Nick, his eyes opened wide.
"Remember me?" Nick asked.
"He feels that pain in his gut, Nick," Bobby said and punched Julio in the face. "Yeah, he remembers it was you that put that bullet in him," he said and punched Julio in the face.
Mike put his foot on Julio’s stomach and put his weight on it. "Who are you working for?"
Julio screamed in pain and spit at Black. "Usted no puede entender una palabra yo digo y yo no le diría nada si usted puede," Julio said in Spanish.
Nick stepped up and leaned over Julio. "Puedo . . . y usted hace," Nick replied in Spanish.
