Redemption

by Dufour, Danny

  “What’s behind those tinted panes overhanging the dance floor?” asked Namara, pointing to the elevated windows.

  “Oh, I forgot to show you! It’s an office that gives us a full view of the floor. You see, the view’s amazing,” she said, sitting on a chair.

  “So it’s going to be a zoo tonight?” asked Guerra.

  “Hundreds and hundreds. Media, celebrities, the Miami elite, they’ll all be here. Get ready, there’s been tons of buzz for a while now. We’re the toast of Miami!” Kamilia raised her arms excitedly, the tattoos visible in her black blouse. Guerra strolled to the bar and seized the two kalis from the counter.

  “What are these doing here?”

  “I practice a bit when I have a few minutes to myself.”

  “I see.”

  Smiling, he began to spin the batons clumsily. He started to deliver strikes to the air in all directions, which exasperated Kamilia, who raised her eyes to the ceiling.

  “Would you put my kalis back where they were!?” cried Kamilia.

  James was delighted that he’d got a rise out of her and was in no way going to stop.

  “Hello, I’m Kamilia! Don’t come any closer unless you want this stick up your ass!” he said in a shrill falsetto, infuriating her further.

  He retreated as he continued thrusting and jabbing without noticing that he was getting closer to the wall. With a snap, he sent one of the little tree branches flailing. A cloud of green leaves exploded into the air. The tree was all but bald. His eyes widened and he froze, paralyzed with fear, as leaves littered the ground one by one.

  “You bloody ingrate! My tree!” cried Kamilia.

  “I didn’t see it,” he tried, visibly nervous.

  “You bastard! I just bought it, and the opening’s tonight! Put the kali’s down and don’t touch another damn thing!”

  Namara guffawed in his chair to see Guerra taking Kamilia’s lecture like a reprimanded child.

  “Bravo, James, you’ve outdone yourself once again! Obviously your genetic code just skipped over the ‘grace’ and ‘refinement’ bits,” added Ming Mei.

  “I’m sorry, Ming Mei, but you’ve got it wrong,” he retorted, switching on the radio behind the counter. A pop song filled the bar and James climbed onto his table to inch his waistband below his pearly white buttocks. He danced languidly in circles. Shinsaku whistled and Namara was wracked with silent laughter, incapable of doing anything but wiping away tears and holding his stomach.

  “You’re going to regret those words, Mingy! If I launch myself into the erotic dance industry, you’ll be finished!” shouted James, doing the robot.

  “Disgusting,” sighed Ming Mei, rolling her eyes.

  “The horror! I need some air,” retorted Kamilia, whose face was red with frustration.

  Ming Mei followed her out. Namara was still dying with mirth on his chair and Shinsaku, grinning, fished out a ten-dollar bill to offer to James.

  “Stop! Please! I’m gonna die,” Namara pleaded, completely out of breath.

  Guerra descended from the table, ass in the air, and switched off the radio.

  CHAPTER 57

  The immense yellow-and-gold neon dragon lit up for the first time on the façade over Ocean Drive. The Redemption sign, on which giant letters glowed like stars, descended vertically beside the illuminated dragon. A huge line of partiers snaked out from the interior along the flashes of so many cameras and luxury cars that scrolled by. An ice sculpture of a dragon stood several meters from the entrance bored no-one with its poise. Hundreds of people still were packed indoors and the ambiance was feverish. It was feasting and glamour on opening night where armies of wait staff swarmed everywhere to serve the clients. Fire-breathers in angry Tengu masks were posted all over the dance floor on elevated platforms. They spat long jets of fire intermittently over the heads of the thronging mass that moved as one in the thumping music.

  Namara, wearing a grey suit, couldn’t count the number of handshakes he’d given since the beginning of the evening. He played the role of “businessman” excellently. Kamilia, dressed in a red evening gown, did the same in other parts of the bar. Shinsaku had opted for a black tuxedo and was mired in conversation with people who were delighted by his affected personality and fictional back story. Ming Mei wore a white gown and reprised her role as Shinsaku’s partner. They seemed to find it easy, chatting with strangers. As for James, he skipped between the different bar counters in his white suit, chasing the lovely females that were omnipresent. Namara joined him at the bar that was James’ current base camp. On the way, he passed two pretty girls who smiled at him; one of them winked. He smiled back and sat beside Namara, who had watched the whole scene.

  “You know, Namara, you never cease to amaze me!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The ladies throw themselves at you and you don’t even notice, you imbecile!”

  “I don’t follow…”

  “The two superb creatures you just passed. You saw the looks they gave you? And you continued on like nothing happened. It’s unbelievable, really.”

  “All they did was smile, James. I think you’re imagining things.”

  “Horseshit. Those girls were looking for an invitation! These things never happen to me!”

  “Listen, you need to concentrate more on the task at hand and less on the X-chromosomes,” said Namara.

  “I give up, you’re a lost cause,” he retorted, shaking his head in consternation as he sipped from a tumbler of scotch.

  “Probably,” said Namara good-naturedly. He leaned against the bar counter and sipped from his own scotch.

  “Fine. Fine. If you’re not going to take your chance, I’m going in.”

  Guerra adjusted his jacket and began to creep toward his prey. Namara finished his glass and winced as the alcohol burned him all the way down. With an easy stride, he moved away from the bar and plunged into the mass of dancing revellers.

  * * *

  Kamilia was making her third search of the club for Namara, but she was as yet unsuccessful. There was a retina scanner in the elevator that permitted access to the top floor; she positioned her face against it and it beeped with recognition. The doors opened to reveal a figure in her office standing up against the imposing panes of glass, seemingly hypnotized by the view.

  “Very much. Very original,” he said, turning from the view to flash her a smile. “You’ve done remarkable work, you know!”

  “Thanks, you’re sweet. And how, how are you? You seem subdued…”

  “I’m thinking of the case… and how we’re going to proceed.”

  “Do you have an idea?”

  “Yes.”

  Kamilia stood behind him and watched the spectacle for a moment in silence.

  “I missed you, you know.”

  “I missed you too,” he said, putting his arms around her. His cell phone interrupted.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Hey, Danny,” said Andy.

  “Andy, surprise me!”

  “Listen to this: I looked up Sauvalito like you asked. It’s insane, what we’re finding with a bit of digging.”

  “Go on…”

  “The restaurant where Ming Mei and Shinsaku ate is the property of Deborah K. Rowl. Nothing abnormal there. The woman isn’t on the run, no criminal record. Well, get this, he found that this little lady, is actually married to Brian Firth, a member of a Neo-Nazi political militia that was kicking around Oklahoma in 1991.

  “So if I’m hearing you, you think Sauvalito belongs to the Neo-Nazis?”

  “Hang on. Not just because some broad shagged a white supremacist. Is she still married to him? Maybe she wised up and decided to change her life. So I went further. The gas station belongs to Austin Jay, a model citizen, native of Texas. Turns out he’s married to Nathaly Edwards, who has a brother named Benjamin Edwards, sworn member of the militia!” cried Andy.

  “I see. It seems pretty clear.”

  “Yeah, the f
arms and businesses were bought through the years by relatives without records to erase suspicion, but in the end… the entire village belongs to members of this group.”

  “That would explain why everyone’s white and most are men.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Tell me about this group. What should we expect?”

  “The FBI did a lot of damage with their investigations in the 90s. Since then, they’ve been more discreet, but according to the FBI, they’re still active. We’ve got the proof right here. They promote the Aryan nation and the elimination of all other races. Right now they’re in the drug traffic, minor charges like auto theft, and they’re distinguishable by their hate crimes of an excessively violent nature like all good ideological groups. The crimes are a means of revenue for their continued assholeishness.”

  “So female trafficking for them could just be a means of making money?”

  “Yes, and furthermore, the women aren’t white. They’re making money and promoting their cause.”

  “Are they well-organized?”

  “Yes. Some are vets, so they’re well-armed. The FBI uncovered several assault weapons and explosives in their caches. So they’re well-equipped and well-structured. You’ve got to be careful.”

  “Yeah, apparently. We may need reinforcements.”

  “Anyone in mind?”

  “I have a few friends…”

  “Remember, you need to stay in the shadow. The more men you implicate, the more you risk blowing your cover.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it. And Gregor Matthew?”

  “He’s for real, insofar as he’s a priest. I haven’t been able to find any evidence to the contrary. No run-ins with the law, no record. We’ve got nothing on him. Model citizen, man of God.”

  “You’ve told me enough. What do you think about that place?”

  “Well... one thing is clear for me. They created that village slowly and now that place would be for me like... an invisible gate between the US and Mexico. It is not hidden, that place exists. At the same time, you don't see it because it is in the middle of nowhere. Perfect for trafficking. It's like a secret vortex to access the US... smart. Anything else?”

  “Not yet. I’ll call you.”

  “Good luck.”

  Namara tucked his phone back into his belt. Below, a human tide swarmed helter-skelter under the speakers and lights, the fire-breathers and the music. Lost in his thoughts and a song pounding in his ears, he realized the Club Redemption was absolutely and irreversibly born.

  CHAPTER 58

  “I forgot to show you something,” said Kamilia, opening the door to the underground garage – several sports cars stood patiently in a line, led by a white Porsche convertible from which Namara couldn’t tear his eyes.

  “Holy shit, it’s beautiful! You bought this?”

  “Yes sir! Who else?” she joked.

  “You really think we need a car like that?” he laughed.

  “I don’t know, but I couldn’t resist! Can you blame me?”

  “Of course not, but Andy’s going to have a heart attack when he sees it!”

  She tossed him the keys.

  “Shall we?” said Kamilia with a smile.

  “What, now? What about your guests!?”

  “They can fend for themselves for a moment. Let’s go!”

  “If you insist!”

  Namara sat, as per Kamilia’s request, and she took a seat by his side. The engine came to life with a powerful roar, which made them smile. He grabbed the stick and threw them into first gear. The tires squealed as they left the garage to take to the streets. The warm aromatic wind ruffled their hair as they blew through the night. As soon as he could, he veered onto the highway, desperate to test out the vehicle’s true power.

  “So I guess you like her?” asked Kamilia.

  “She’s a miracle! You want to give ‘er a spin?”

  “No, thank you. I prefer to sit back and enjoy the ride!”

  Namara glanced at her smiling in her red gown, hair blowing haphazardly in the wind. He thought she must be a mirage, to be so beautiful.

  “So I’ve heard it said that you and James succeeded in joining the Desert Devils?”

  “That we have.”

  “What’s your opinion on them?”

  “It’s disturbing. We met people who’ve lost family members. It’s tragic – there are so many victims. It’s difficult to believe that such a small band of scoundrels could have been behind it all this time! And that now I have to seem like one of them. To be honest, it makes me sick.”

  “I understand. You spoke with Andy about a Gregor…”

  “Yeah, Father Gregor Matthews, the priest of Sauvalito. Ed named him during our discussion. He probably provides the women to American buyers.”

  “A priest that sells women to their deaths, are you serious!?”

  “Yes, absolutely!”

  “It’s senseless!”

  “It’s that, and it’s the reality. He’s probably an adept of the white supremacists. That village belongs to Neo-Nazis. We’re going to have to get close to him to know more… but we’re all already implicated, and we can’t start messing around with double-identities. I don’t know how Ed contacts him. We’re too busy right now to be able to play from different angles.”

  “We’re not all implicated. He doesn’t know me!”

  “Ha-ha. Forget about it. You’re not going in there by yourself. The village is full of human traffickers and you’re doomed if you go in. Out of the question.”

  “They only traffic Mexican girls, I thought.” “You’re a beautiful woman, and even if you’re not Mexican, they’d be willing to sell you for the price you’d fetch! Their goal is to make money and to do that they need beautiful woman and it’s out of the question, so forget about it!”

  “Listen! I’m a part of the team too, remember!? What other choice do you have?”

  “It’s too dangerous. You’ll be alone in there.”

  “I know, and if anyone messes with me I’ll cut his throat and get the fuck out!”

  Namara sighed and shook his head.

  “You don’t know what they’re capable of…”

  “The hell I don’t. It’s dangerous, sure, but it’s our job! It’s nice that you’re worried for me, but I’m going in there! I just need a good cover.”

  “Easy,” he retorted, accelerating and watching the city’s buildings scroll by.

  “Go on?”

  “There’s a counter that provides clothes to homeless people. It seems that they pass through occasionally. Whether that’s true or not, it’s the best way to go in.”

  “You’re saying I should be a hobo?”

  “Exactly. You’ll have to find a way to ugly yourself up,” he said, smiling.

  Namara’s phone rang.

  “Rick, it’s Ed. How’re you doing, amigo?”

  “Great. You?”

  “Ok. We need you and Arthur. We’re going into action in a few hours.”

  “Um… that’s not possible, we have a bit of a situation, Arthur and I. We need to sort out a small problem, but we’ll be back in a day or two.”

  “You went back to the States!? Are you crazy or what!? Are you trying to get arrested?”

  “Calm down, bro. It’s not our first choice, but we didn’t have a choice. Don’t worry, we’ll come back! I’ll call you once we’re in San Matanza.”

  “Ok, fine, but beware! I’m expecting your call, bro.”

  “Soon,” he agreed, and hung up. “Fuck me! They are taking another in a few hours and we’re not even there! We need to go back tomorrow.”

  “Fine, but for tonight, fuck ‘em. Tonight, you belong to me,” she said seductively, turning on the radio. “So, what are you waiting for!? You want to see what this baby can do, don’t you?’ she cried, throwing her arms up, feeling the air between her fingers.

  “You asked for it,” he shot back, accelerating and zig-zagging between the other cars.

&n
bsp; They crossed the whole city like that the rest of the night, not thinking of anything, living in the moment, the intoxication of speed and heat like there was no tomorrow.

  CHAPTER 59

  San Matanza, Mexico.

  The group had returned to Mexico several days ago, bringing Kamilia with them. They were prepared for the final stages of their plan. Namara had told them that they needed more hands, according to the intelligence Andy had rounded up. Without saying what that was, he had told them that they had a certain meeting without being precise. With no further discussion, he lead them to the border, away from curious stares. They waited without saying a word for two hours, and Guerra finally lost it.

  “All right, that’s it! I’m done with your games, Namara. We’re supposed to be a team and yet we’ve all been standing here doing shit-all for two hours!”

  “Patience, James, you won’t regret it,” he said mildly.

  James began to pace, muttering to himself, visibly angry. But now, a black Yukon was barrelling toward them. James glanced at Danny, furrowing his eyebrows:

  “Is that…”

  “Yep,” Namara retorted with a smile. The truck stopped a few meters away from them and four men leapt out. Guerra rubbed his eyes.

  “Is this heat making me hallucinate?”

  “You’re not crazy,” said Namara.

  Taz, Twinkie, Gonzo and Mike were walking toward them in a line. They’d aged somewhat, but it was clearly them.

  “Did someone here order reinforcements?” asked Taz with a grin. Guerra was in shock.

  “Un-bloody-believable! You came to help us?”

  “And how!” retorted Mike.

  “Namara briefed us on the situation. Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” said Gonzo.

  “We read between the lines. Namara asked us for help, but we all knew it was Guerra who was knee-deep in shit and we’ve come charging in to pull him out,” said Twinkie.

  “I’m so chuffed I’m not even going to hit you for that,” Guerra laughed.

  They all embraced in reunion. It had been years. They looked at each other and couldn’t help remembering all they’d been through together. They’d dreamed of the day when they would find each other again without ever really believing they would, but the day had finally come. Ming Mei, Shinsaku and Kamilia stepped forward to introduce themselves. Guerra and Namara stepped back to give them and their new teammates time to get to know each other. They watched, fascinated, as the two groups fused.