Don't Say No

by Linda Verji

  Narco-subs.

  “Fuck!” Despite himself, Vance was shocked. He hopped off the jeep, staring goggle-eyed at the submarines. He’d heard of these things but never seen one. Dubbed the newest and most efficient way of moving product, only the wealthiest barons could afford them. And Cabrera had four. Four!

  Three of the four bloated metallic beasts were already half-submerged in the creek as if ready for launching. The last one was being loaded. Men clambered in through the top hatch to deposit the bricks of cocaine then exited to get more.

  How much?

  “Five tones per sub,” Cabrera answered his unvoiced question.

  Fuck and damn!

  Immediate excitement surged through Vance. This! This is what he’d been waiting for. Shit, if he’d known this was where Cabrera was bringing him, he would’ve piloted that airplane himself. He could already see big things happening in his future.

  Dollars falling from trees! No longer having to mooch off of RayRay.

  Over on the other side of the Isthmus of Panama, someone else wasn’t as impressed by Cabrera.

  Last night was a mistake.

  How could she have let everything go so far? She’d lost every ounce of common sense the moment Nic had scooted closer to her. The thought of everything he’d done to her, everything she’d let him do to her; the kissing, the touching, the fingeri…oh, Melanie’s body heated at the very thought.

  She shut her eyes, blocking the computer screen in front of her, as she recalled her responses to his sensual kisses. She mentally savored the erotic movement of his hands over her body, the way every part of her that had died with his disappearance had come alive spectacularly. The tremulous pulsing of her pussy at the memory was a clear reminder that she was in trouble.

  Big trouble!

  Sitting back in the chair, Melanie raised a shaking hand to her temple. Whoever said ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ had it right. Her feelings for Nic hadn’t waned with the passing years. In fact after last night they felt sharper, more intense. It was like she’d never fallen out of love with him. And judging by the article dancing on her desktop screen, those were the last possible feelings she should have for him.

  José Cabrera (1928 –2012) better known as Cabrera was a Colombian rancher, businessman and politician. It was alleged that before his death, Cabrera led or at the very least facilitated a drug smuggling operation. The operation moved approximately thirty tons of powder cocaine per month into the United States and Europe. None of these rumors were ever substantiated and there is no reported investigation either by Colombian authorities or other foreign entities.

  “Aunty,” Sly interrupted her reading. Like her, the little boy was seated on a teal accent chair in front of a gray desktop computer. “I’m done with my report. Can I go to funology?”

  “Let me see first.” Melanie arched towards Sly’s station. After making sure that he was done with his science report and transferring it to a flash-drive, she gave him the green light to go to the site.

  She didn’t know what time Nic had left this morning, but she had a vague memory of hearing him answer the phone as Cabrera in her sleep. She thought she’d dreamed the name. In fact today’s excursion to the cybercafé was for Sly and not for her research purposes. He had a report due next week, they didn’t have a home-computer and the office one was still stuck in Iona’s clutches. But once she was here she couldn’t prevent herself from throwing the name Cabrera into the search engine. A few strategic pairings with other search terms and the internet had unearthed this article buried deep in its annals.

  Cabrera married Elena Romero in October 1950, with whom he had two children, Ernesto and Anna. Elena died in a road accident and both his children were murdered under unclear circumstances that have been linked to cartel infighting. On September 2, 2012, Cabrera was in his office with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. Authorities ruled his death a suicide. He is survived by his grandson by Anna, Nicolás Cabrera, who inherited the bulk of his billion-dollar empire. Little is known of the younger Cabrera. To date there are no known pictures of him, but reports persist that he may have taken over where his grandfather left off with the cartels.

  Well, she’d wanted to know who Nic was. Now she did!

  Sure there were some discrepancies like the article saying Anna was murdered. Anna had died in hospital of cancer related-issues. But there were too many coincidences to ignore. Like the story Nic had told her of how his mother had run away from Colombia to escape the cartel. Like the secret letters Anna would receive from someone called Ernesto that she’d insisted Melanie burn on her death. Like Nic’s sudden unexplainable wealth and aversion to dealing with the police.

  Melanie had the feeling she was way in over her head.

  Was Nic involved in drug trafficking?

  She wanted to say no, and that the article was throwing around baseless accusations. The Nic she knew would never be involved in something illegal. For crying out loud he’d joined the military after completing a degree in Computer Information Systems so he’d be better qualified to join the FBI.

  There was no way.

  But then again, what did she know of this new Nic? Nine years had changed him a lot. If he’d disappeared without even a word to her, who’s to say he couldn’t do worse. Was it even safe for her to trust him? What if Nic was everything she was trying to extract herself and her family from? It explained why he refused to say anything about why he’d left or where he’d gone.

  She cast a glance towards Sly.

  The last thing she wanted was to expose her nephew to any more danger. Maybe it was a good thing Nic hadn’t talked of staying. If he was involved in that world, there was no future for them. Regardless of how drawn she was to him, Melanie would pick Sly’s safety over her feelings, anytime, any day.

  That didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like hell.

  Nic had underestimated Vance’s business savvy. There might’ve been dollar signs in his eyes when he’d seen the fleet of narco-subs, but he was negotiating like a man who wasn’t desperate.

  “I don’t give a fuck how much snow you’re bringing in.” Vance twirled the Cuban cigar in his fingers casually and blew out smoke through the side of his mouth. “I ain’t showing you my trap houses.”

  It took all of Nic’s control not to huff in frustration. “I’m not asking to see your trap houses. I want to know the extent of your retail capabilities.”

  They’d been at this, holed up in Nic’s office, for the last three hours. Nic was ready to shoot the guy and be done with him and the negotiation.

  Masking his irritation with a blasé smile and a cocked eyebrow, Nic said, “You think I’m going to ship you ten million dollars worth without knowing if you’re capable of moving it?”

  “Ten million?” Vance’s eyes bulged at the number.

  “How much blow did you think I was talking about?” Nic asked in weary amusement. He hunched forward in his seat and pressed his elbows to the white wood desk. “Each of those subs holds five tons. One of those tons is headed your way. I need hard proof you can handle it.”

  Vance didn’t look convinced. “How much you selling it for?”

  “Two point five.” He could see Vance doing the mental calculations. Ten million was a cautious estimate. If Vance was as good a businessman as he claimed, he could cut a ton for way more than ten million. To encourage Vance further, Nic added, “And I send out shipments every month. With that you take over from Ernesto as the top supplier.”

  Vance rubbed a kink out of his neck as he reached for his glass of bourbon and took a gulp. Finally he said, “Nigga, trust. We can move it.”

  Nic’s answer was prompt. “Trust is a commodity only fools can afford.”

  A long silence begun during which Vance stood from his chair, strolled to the glass double-doors that faced the swimming pool and the ocean. He stood by the doors staring out at the sparkling water lit by the lights surrounding the edges of the pool. An amateur would�
��ve used the silence to press further. But Nic knew that sounding too desperate would raise Vance’s guard. So he waited.

  Vance turned away from the doors to face him. “So what you want from me ‘xactly?”

  “A list of who you’ve got on the ground, how much they move and how fast.” Nic settled farther back in his chair and sipped his drink. “My accountant will verify your financials and once I’m sure you can handle my business we’re good to go.” Nic eyebrows shot up in curiosity. “You do keep financial records, don’t you?”

  “I’m a businessman,” Vance offered dismissively. He strode back to his chair and sat down. Watching Nic carefully, he asked, “How do I know you not gon’ snitch on my people?”

  Nic fingered his own glass of bourbon and laughed. “You think I’ll snitch on you when I just showed you my operation?”

  Vance grunted. “What about Ernesto? Word on the street is that even though he’s doing all day he’s still trying to get back in the game.”

  Before Vance, there was Ernesto. As the biggest supplier in California, he’d supplied almost every drug dealer in the state. Ernesto had recently had a bad run with the feds and folded his whole operation. Hence Nic’s current dilemma.

  “Ernesto is my middle man.” Nic gave him an easy nod. “I’ll handle him.”

  At last, Vance said the magical words. “I’ma need two days to get you those financials.”

  “Two days it is.” Nic smiled.

  Vance didn’t know it, but he’d just hammered the first nail into his empire’s coffin.

  They spent another hour or two more ironing out the details of the deal before they parted ways. Ignacio led Vance to the room they’d prepared for him while Nic padded down the hallways to his own bedroom.

  This was the first night in a couple that he was spending away from Melanie, and he already hated it. Common sense said that they’d gone too far yesterday, but common sense be damned. It was the first time he’d felt whole in a hell of a long time and he would savor it.

  He was mad for her. Mad for the sexy sounds she made in the throes of passion. Mad for the wild movements she made as she tried to resist her orgasm. Mad for her keening cries as she came. Melanie was magnificent in her pleasure. Every kiss from her redefined the pleasure scale, every languorous stretch of her body, pure heat redefined. She was everything he remembered and more. What he wouldn’t have done to be back in California and in her bed.

  He sighed as he pushed the door to his own bedroom open.

  The moment he stepped into the dark room, he knew someone was in the room with him. All his senses prickled with alarm and he instinctively reached for his firearm.

  “It’s just me,” a familiar voice called out.

  He was a tall imposing shadow leaning against the wall by the windows but Nic recognized his stature and voice immediately. Lowering his weapon, Nic flicked on the lights plunging the room into brightness. His gaze panned in on the suited man and narrowed.

  “Took you long enough to get here,” Nic greeted his captor and boss, Park Jin Ho.

  CHAPTER 14

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”Park moved away from the window, his dark eyes steely with anger and his mouth set in a hard line.

  Even with anger rolling off him in thick waves, the elderly man cut quite the authority figure. Tall, straight-backed and salt-haired, he had the air of a military commander. Despite the lateness of the hour, his tie was knotted so high up his neck you could hear it trying to choke him. His navy blue suit was creaseless and his black shoes were polished to an eye-blinding buff. Nic had to wonder how long it had taken him to get the lines just right on that suit. An image of Park painstakingly ironing the lines on his suit, had him quirking his lips.

  “You think this is funny?” Park settled on the three-seater couch, his posture straight and rigid, as he stared at Nic.

  “No.” Nic strode to the single corner sofa opposite Park and sat down. “How did you know I was here?”

  “I followed the scent of Melanie.” Park’s voice dripped of sarcasm.

  “Funny.” Nic’s mouth lifted in a humorless smile.

  “Ignacio,” Park answered reluctantly.

  “If I’d known he could drag you from the hole you’ve been hiding in, I would’ve come to Columbia long before now.” Nic gave the older man a wintery glare. “You’ve been ignoring my calls.”

  “Deliberately!” Park’s already slit-thin eyes narrowed even further. “I was prepared to ignore your little shenanigans with Vance and the shootings at the warehouse. I even turned a blind eye to the truck load of girls you had Rafaél deposit at our doorstep this morning. And despite I.C.E riding my ass about you interfering in their ongoing operation, I -”

  “What operation?” Nic scoffed. “We both know that they won’t catch The Photographer that way. How many times have they tried this same sting and failed?”He didn’t wait for an answer. “The definition of madness is doing the same thing, the same way over and over again and expecting a different result.”

  “How I.C.E conducts its operations is not your call.”

  “If I hadn’t sent Vance to get me those girls, they would be somewhere in Qatar right now,” Nic defended.

  Park didn’t deny the assertion. He waved dismissively. “I was prepared to ignore all that nonsense. Then I get a call from Ignacio telling me you’re here. With Vance.”

  Unfazed by Park’s glare, Nic shrugged. “Well there was no other way to convince him that I could make him the richest drug dealer on the West Coast.”

  “This estate isn’t your personal playground,” the older man berated. “No one comes here without my approval.”

  “I would’ve asked if you were picking up your calls.”

  “And if I’d said No, would you have listened?” Park answered.

  Hell no! This had been the only viable way to gain Vance’s trust and saves Melanie.

  When Nic didn’t voice his answer, Park offered curtly, “This is why I told you to keep away from Melanie Daniels. She’s always been trouble.”

  Really? They were going there?

  Nic gave his handler a hard look and sneered. “Trouble you were willing to exploit when it benefitted you.”

  Even a reminder of how their partnership had started, wasn’t enough to deter Park. He said, “This dance you’re doing with Vance is over. Cut the cord now.”

  “That…” Nic’s voice was controlled and cuttingly cool as he retorted, “… won’t happen.”

  “If you can’t shut it down, then I’ll do it for you.” Park’s thin lips curved in a hard smile that didn’t reach his flinty eyes. “I could have PDs all over Alameda County raiding Vance’s known trap houses by tomorrow morning and ruin your little plan.”

  “Hasn’t that been done before?” Nic mocked with a raised eyebrow. “Tell me, how did the Oakland PD’s op go last year? Oh yeah, I already know. Vance cleared out before the ink even dried on their warrants. By the time they got there, all they had to show for their bluster was warm tables, test-tubes and plastic paper.”

  Park shrugged. “So he’s got some dirty cops in his pocket-”

  Nic’s eyebrows shot up. “Some?”

  “Many,” Park acknowledged. “But any operation I order will force him underground for weeks, maybe months.”

  “You’re not that naive. Vance won’t tuck tail and run.” Nic leaned back in his seat. “After that op, he practically burned down The Section looking for the person who’d ratted him out. OPD’s still trying to identify all the bodies he sent their way; many of them innocent bystanders.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’d rather have him do the same thing than let me take him down for you?”

  “You’re too valuable an asset to waste on small time thugs like him.”

  “That small time thug has fifty plus small business people by the balls, peddling drugs for him.”

  “Ah, back to Melanie.” Park pronounced her name like it was a dirty word.

  “Yes, back
to Melanie,” Nic acknowledged in a flat voice. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit back and watch him terrorize her.”

  “Look, DEA already has him on its radar and once they have enough evidence, they plan to go over the locals’ heads with a major sting.”

  “Are you kidding me?” This time Nic didn’t hide his frustration. He glared at Park. “Those stings take too long. It could be months before they have anything solid and by that time Vance will have expanded even further making it harder to net his whole operation.”

  “Then move Melanie out of the city,” Park suggested.

  Nic didn’t bother to tell him that that was his initial plan. He defended, “Because she’s not the only one in Vance’s line of fire.” He leaned forward. “We do this my way and in a couple of weeks, the Runners… the whole crew will be out of business. And DEA won’t have to start a bureaucratic shit-storm just so they can shut Vance down. I bet if I go to them directly with my plan they won’t refuse my offer.”

  Park caught the subtle threat and his eyes narrowed. “Are you threatening to offer your services elsewhere if I don’t fall in line?”

  “It’s not a threat so much as a reminder that you’re not the only government agency that needs my particular brand of services.”

  “We have a contract.”

  Nic leaned backwards and stretched his arms over the back of the couch. He arched his eyebrows. “Do we?”

  Park gritted through his teeth, “You can’t break it.”

  “Can’t I?” Nic smiled. “Test me.”

  The two words cracked like a whip, heightening the tension in the room. Park’s observing eyes took in Nic’s relaxed posture, the determination glittering in his eyes, and the tight control in his voice. And he judged that the younger man was quite willing to follow through on his threat. Nic saw the moment he surrendered. Park’s shoulders slumped, and he released a heavy gush of air.

  The two men sat in silence as the tension between them ebbed to a softer hum. When Park broke the silence it was to ask, “Have you told her who you really are?”