by Jack July
Stefan gestured Sonda toward a chair, but when she shook her head, he shrugged and sat on an old folding chair against the wall, six feet to Odetta’s right. Sonda stood back a few feet behind Odetta’s left shoulder. Odetta projected the personality of a cold, professional, self-made woman, one who would not be intimidated. She reached across the desk and offered a handshake. “Mr. Blaga, nice to meet you.”
He shook her hand. “Call me Ilie.”
Odetta stayed stoic. “I prefer Mr. Blaga.”
Odetta sat in the old wooden chair in front of the desk. Ilie smiled and sat down. “Very well, how can I help you?”
“I would like to adopt a little boy. White, healthy and less than one year old. I was told you could help me.”
“That is what everyone wants. It is difficult to find, but yes, I can help you.”
“Very well. Now let’s get down to business. How much?”
Ilie sat back in his chair. “Doctor Dietz, this is more, how you would say, a process. We must find a baby, negotiate, get the proper paperwork and then you will have all your dreams come to life.”
“How much?”
“We will need ten thousand, American, up front for processing. Then we will call you when we have a child. The final cost depends on many things.”
“I see.” Odetta paused for a moment. “My friends said you were easy to deal with.”
“Who are your friends?”
Odetta reached down into her purse and pulled out the folded 8x10’s of Cindy and Mia. After straightening them, she laid them out on the desk facing him. Sonda shifted her feet and hands, preparing for what could come next. As Ilie looked at the pictures, Odetta noticed a shift in his demeanor and body language. He stated tersely, “I don’t remember these women.”
Odetta smiled. “Sure you do. They were here a couple of weeks ago; look again.”
“Yes, well, maybe. I work with many people.”
Odetta shook her head. “Now, Mr. Blaga, you must remember women this pretty.”
Ilie looked over her shoulder at Stefan who began to rise from his chair. Ilie stood up placing his hands on the desk in front of her, leaned forward and said in a menacing tone, “I do not know these women. Now, do you have the money?”
The smile left Odetta’s face. She leaned back in the chair and ran her hand under her hair like she was rubbing her neck. “Sure you do, why are you lying?”
He started to say something when she turned her head quickly to the left, as if she were startled. His head followed, and in one smooth motion, she pulled the weighted throwing knife from the pocket in her blouse just below the nape of her neck. Flipping it into her hand, she placed her thumb over the top of the handle and brought it down aiming for the center of the back of his hand. She went a little long. The blade penetrated above the wrist between the radius and the ulna. With a thud, it impaled itself deep in the top of the wooden desk. It took Blaga a moment to figure out what just happened before he let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Chapter 15
Carla Jo gave a cursory knock, walked into Joseph’s house, sat down in the chair next to Joseph and handed him the grease-soaked bag. “Joe, we got a problem.”
Joseph pulled the fries and a container of pulled pork from the bag, smiled and said, “It ain’t what I’m having for lunch.”
“You hired a union salt.”
“A what?”
“You hired a Teamster plant who is trying to unionize your company.”
“I did?”
“Yep. I think it’s Sitzberger. Where is he from?”
“You shittin’ me? Up north, Maryland I think. That son of a bitch gave me a sob story bout his divorce, losing his kids. I felt sorry for him.”
“Our company is too big. You can’t just hire anyone. I gave you access to our HR department, and you should have used it.”
“I’ll have a couple boys put an ass whippin’ on him and run him off.”
“Too late for that. He’ll have a tribe of lawyers from the Teamsters and the National Labor Relations Board climbing straight up your ass. They will bankrupt you with legal costs, and you’ll probably end up in jail.”
“They can’t do that. It’s my company. I built it.”
“Oh, yes, they can, and they will.”
“Oh, shit. What do we do?”
“I’ll have a discussion with Mr. Chambers. You said the men trust him?”
“Yeah, half of them treat him like he’s their daddy.”
“Joe, you have to be very careful. Everything you say, everything you do could be something to sue you over. It costs them nothing to sue you. It will cost you a fortune to defend yourself.”
Joe sat back on the couch. “So, what if they win?”
“You’ll still have a company; it just won’t be the same. The relationship you have with your employees will be gone. The union tends to make it adversarial. You won’t have the same control over your workforce. Your legal costs will go way up. It will be very different.”
“Would it be better for them, our drivers?”
“They might get a couple of dollars more an hour. But if it happens, I pull Henderson Medical. Other than the mines, we don’t get involved with union companies. Then your drivers will be stuck paying for health insurance. That will cost three times more than their pay increase.”
“Just tell me what I need to do.”
“Okay, but first I’m going to call Parker. We’re gonna beat this.”
Lamont Hughes, president of Teamsters Local 612, sat across from Congressman Kent Stone. The Congressman’s assistant walked in and whispered something in his ear. Stone nodded and sent him away. “Mr. Hughes, that’s not as much campaign help as I’m used to getting.”
“There’ll be more, but right now, as you know, unions aren’t popular down here. We targeted 25 trucking companies. We’ve unionized three and put four out of business as a message to the rest. There is one in Lewistown we may have to give up on. Braxton Trucking.”
“Yes, I’m well aware of the Braxtons,” he replied with disdain. “A redneck kid runs it; you tellin’ me you can’t take him down?”
“He has a partner, Carla Jo Brown.”
“Former CEO of Henderson Medical, Carla Jo Brown?”
“Yep, that’s the one. Apparently they’re kin.”
“That family has been a pain in my ass for decades. She supported my primary challenger; cost me a small fortune to beat him.”
“She knows how to play the game.”
Stone leaned back and slapped his hands on the arms of the chair. “Since when did the Teamsters become pussies?”
“Look, Congressman, I grew up in Sibley County. His sister’s a war hero. I don’t know the family personally, but I know they have a reputation as good people.”
“Illiterate, classless moonshiners is what they are.”
“Yeah, well, I think we need to let that go.”
“Maybe they just need a little convincing.”
“By that you mean…”
“Just what I said.”
“You want me to bring people from up north?”
“I don’t know anything about that, now, do I?”
“No, sir.”
Dr. Earle looked at Amy and shook his head, unconsciously rubbing his wrist. “Let’s stop here. How about dinner?”
“Sure, what’s on the menu?”
Just then, helicopter rotors could be heard in the distance. He smiled. “Groceries are here.”
He walked out to the helipad and grabbed the bags. They went inside as he put away the groceries. “Do you feel like showing me how to make those biscuits?”
“Sure. Is that all we’re having?”
“I have some venison steaks, back straps, I got from Buddy.”
Amy’s eyes went bright. “Oh yeah, the best part of the deer. Do you have spices? I can make a rub and we can grill.”
“I was hoping you would say something like that. I have no idea how to prepare it.”
/> A bar separated the stove and counter from the rest of the cabin. Dr. Earle sat and watched her. She clearly knew what she was doing. “Who taught you how to cook?”
“My mom, my granny, and I picked up some along the way.”
“As long as I have been doing this, it still amazes me to know who you are and what you do. Then I watch you behave like a wife and a mother, so domestic. The dichotomy is just unreal.”
“I am a wife and a mother. That’s why it’s important for me to keep that part of my life separate.”
Amy sifted the flour into the bowl. Dr. Earle asked, “How much flour do you use?”
Amy laughed. “I’m not sure; I have never used a measuring cup.” She smiled at him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this relaxed.”
Doc shook his head. “That’s the wrong word.”
“What’s the right word?”
“Safe.”
“Yeah, there’s nothing grabbing at me, nothing pulling, wanting... yeah. You know, I left my very own castle to get that back.”
“And?”
“Once in a while, when I’m in the woods by myself, I get it back. I feel it.”
“Safe is one of the things we love most, but recognize the least. I’m glad you feel that way. It means we’ll be successful.”
Amy nodded, put the biscuits in the oven, and turned to the Venison.
Later, when all was ready, the sat and ate, Dr. Earle making occasional “mm” and “ah” sounds. They finished, cleaned up, went on a short walk, then sat back down.
“Shall we?”
Amy nodded.
“So, at that point you had total trust in Sonda?”
“No. I turned to watch her next move to see which way she was going. I already had my weapon at the ready. If she went the wrong way, well, my job is to win.”
“Okay, then what happened?”
Stefan leapt from his chair and went for Odetta. Sonda drew her suppressed Makarov. She walked three shots up the side of his leg, starting at the knee and ending at his ass. As he collapsed on the floor, the barrel of Odetta’s .380 smacked Blaga on the side of the head. Sonda landed on top of Stefan, pointing the barrel of her gun in his face while artfully single handedly cuffing his hands behind his back. Odetta raised the gun to hit Blaga again and saw him flinch. She stopped and smiled at him, an evil, cold smile. “Mr. Blaga? I’m from America. Two of our citizens are missing and the American people want them back. We want them back now. You need to tell me where they are.”
Blaga was sputtering something in Romanian when Odetta was startled. The chair she had been sitting in smashed against the wall behind her. Sonda continued to smash it against the wall until all that was left was a long rectangular piece from one of the uprights. Sonda, grasping the end what was now a cudgel, slid herself gracefully between Odetta and Blaga, forcing Odetta out of the way. In a polite voice and using the club to point at Stefan, she asked, “Would you please keep an eye on him.”
Odetta replied, “Sure.”
Blaga was reaching for the knife, trying to dislodge it, when a blow from the club smashed the back of his free hand. Sonda wound up and took a baseball swing at his face, connecting with the bridge of the nose. The sound of crunching bone was followed by a torrent of blood. His arm still impaled, Blaga collapsed to his knees behind the desk. With the speed of a ferret, Sonda slid behind the desk and began hammering his ribcage, screaming and swearing in Romanian, “WHERE ARE THE WOMEN!?” She asked over and over again until Blaga begged for her to stop. Odetta slid the pictures closer to his face, “Where are they?”
Blaga used his free damaged hand to point at Mia. “She is dead; it was an accident, I swear.”
Odetta glanced at the blood spots, then closed her eyes tight as her face scrunched. “How about this one?” she said, pointing at Cindy’s picture.
“I can take you to her.”
Sonda growled in Romanian, “You do not want to lie to us.”
“No, no, I swear.”
Odetta looked down at Stefan. “What do you want to do with him?”
Sonda walked past her, drew her Makarov and fired two shots in his chest and one in his head. Odetta nodded. “Works for me.”
Odetta looked back at Blaga. “Where is Mia Stanton?”
Blaga’s face twisted with pain. “Buried, in the field out back.”
Odetta’s first impulse was to hit him again, but she still needed him. “Where is Cindy Patrick?”
Blaga looked at Sonda and rattled off something in Romanian. Sonda became enraged and started screaming and punching him in the head.
“What did he say?”
Sonda was breathing hard when she answered, “They’re trying to sell her.”
“To whom?”
“She’s pretty, clean and American. I would think, Middle Easterners.”
Odetta shook her head and under her breath said, “Oh, sweet Jesus. Let’s go get her.”
Chapter 16
After a visit to Henderson Medical Corporate, Carla Jo returned home to find Brian’s truck in the driveway. He was sitting on the porch swing and as she approached, he stood up. “Brian?”
“Yes ma’am, uh, I was wonderin’ if you had a few minutes to talk.”
Carla Jo gave him a genuine smile. “Yes, yes I do. Let me put my stuff in the house. Would you like a glass of tea?”
“Yes, ma’am, that would be nice.”
A few minutes later, Carla Jo came out carrying two mason jars of ice tea. She handed him one, then motioned for him to scoot over. Brian looked at the jar for a moment. “I cain’t imagine a lady like you drinkin’ out of a mason jar.”
Carla Jo chuckled. “I tried to buy nice glasses, but when I’d come home from work, they’d be gone.” Then in a bad Jack imitation, she said, “Jack said, ‘they got scared of the mason jars and run off.’”
Brian laughed. “Yep, sounds like him.”
They sat quiet for a moment, then Brian spoke first. “Uh, Mrs. Brown—”
Carla Jo cut him off, “Carla Jo.”
“Well okay, um, I want to apologize for the way I spoke to you. That’s not who I am and not how I was raised.”
Carla Jo looked him square in the eye. “Well, I think I need to apologize to you.”
“No ma’am, that’s not—”
“Yes it is. You see, I violated one of my own rules of business. That is, to treat each person you’re in business with as a partner and give them the respect of family. I did neither of those things. When I talked to Joseph, he had a little meltdown. He knows how hard you’ve worked and knows what you’ve done. I didn’t, nor did I bother finding out.”
Brian looked down at the porch deck for a moment, then back up. “Thank you for that. That boy has done good by me. When I came off the road, I didn’t have much. I was tired. I figured I would just sit somewhere till I died. The boy got me workin’ with these poor kids. Most didn’t have a daddy or much of a life. Most of ’em had been in trouble. I taught ’em how to drive, gave ’em attention and love. Told ’em ’bout Jesus. I watch ’em get their homes, get married, have babies. I watch ’em lead good Christian lives. I get invited to weddings and birthday parties. You know, Simon named his boy after me. He told me that and I started crying. I ain’t never been this satisfied.”
Carla Jo reached over and patted his hand. “I’d like to say Joe surprised me, but he didn’t. He’s a lot like his mom. He’s got a big heart, but once he sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping him. Did you ever meet his mom?”
“Katherine? Yeah, a couple times when she was young. Joe’s sister looks just like her. My momma told me when she had died. I was in California. I was sad I couldn’t make the funeral. I remember when I was a senior in high school, we were all pretty upset ’bout what that Kent Stone did to her.”
“Congressman Stone?”
“Yeah, thief and liar is more like it.”
“What did he do to her?”
Brian seemed surprised. “
You don’t know?”
“No.”
“Hm, well, I’ll let you ask Leon ’bout it. It ain’t really my place.”
“I will. So, are we okay now?”
“Yes, ma’am, we’re fine.” He gave her a smile. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere; I got nowhere else to go.”
“We need to talk about something else.”
“What’s that?’
“Joseph hired a union agitator. He’s going to cause us problems if we handle it wrong.”
“It’s that Sitzberger idn’it?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“Somethin’ bout that boy I didn’t like. I warned Joe but like you said, he’s got a big heart.”
“We’re going to have to walk a fine line to get rid of him.”
Brian’s eyes narrowed. “Be careful messin’ with those people. I drove my truck through a picket line at a steel mill in Gary, Indiana. They took ball bats to my truck goin’ in. I was shot at on the way out.”
Carla Jo thought about that for a moment, then dismissed it. “I really don’t think they operate like that anymore. It’s more effective for them to use the court system and the NLRB.”
“Mm hm. Just be careful.”
“I will. We need a plan. We can’t fire him, but we need to keep him away from the other employees.”
“I’ll talk to the drivers. They need at least half of ’em using card check to get a vote. I’ll make sure the men know what’s goin’ on so they don’t get it.”
“So you know how this works?’
“Oh yeah. You know, there’s this nice little place behind the far warehouse; got a hose bib. We’ll get him a bucket of soapy water and a brush. I think we have some trucks for him to wash.”
Carla Jo grinned. “Yeah, I like the way you think.”
