by Gary Striker
A brief prologue with handshakes and bows concluded the introductions as Steve made his way to a seat reserved next to Cruz.
“We’re glad that you could make the party, Mr. Slattery”, Cruz said, finishing the invitation.
“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Benavidas”, Steve returned while being assisted into his chair by Kong.
Steve recalled an old James Bond Movie where the chairs were less than friendly to any unsuspecting adversary.
“Let’s dispense with the formalities”, Mr. Benavidas requested in his warm decoy-like gesture.
“Please call me Cruz. We’re all friends here. What do you say?”
Cruz had a way of controlling the flow of anything he addressed. It was an enviable talent.
“‘Friends’, huh? Where have I heard that before”, he thought.
“Miss Kim has already ordered appetizers for the table. I trust that you will find these most agreeable”, Cruz said with his usual air of confidence.
Steve nodded as Cruz continued the dialogue.
“The Fortune Cookie has elevated itself to the top of our want list”, Cruz stated as he included his group. “Miss Chao has extraordinary culinary talents”.
There was nothing but praise for Lucy’s fine art. There is that subtle line between really good food and exceptional cuisine. Lucy knew how to appeal to the customers’ tastes. There was no doubt about that fact, considering the customer comments and generous tips left on the tables.
Cruz wasn’t dissuaded by chandeliers and linen, for which the Fortune Cookie had none. He focused on what excited his taste buds. At the moment it was Ming’s creations.
The appetizers arrived on three trays. A meticulously prepared array of Chinese delights were distributed around the table. Lucy made her way out of the kitchen with Steve’s dinner in hand. She stared at her private hideaway in confusion as she surveyed the empty seats.
“Lucy, over here”, Steve summoned through the crowd. She focused quickly and redirected herself to Steve’s table.
“Sorry, Lucy”, Steve apologized.
Lucy payed no attention and focused on Cruz as she set the tray down on an adjacent table.
“Mr. Benavidas! How nice that you came back to the Fortune Cookie. What lovely friends you bring with you”.
Everyone again stood up and Lucy confronted Cruz with a big hug and a bigger smile, as Cruz genuinely returned the favor!
“Miss Chao, you are looking lovely and it is a bigger pleasure for me to see you again so soon”.
Cruz was laying it on thick, but he did appear to enjoy the attention.
“Lucy! Please call me Lucy”, she requested and could hardly contain herself.
“I want to prepare something special for you and your party”, she said as she cranked up the excitement meter.
Once again, Lucy’s attention got redirected. She stared at what appeared to be another familiar face, friendly and rock hard. The man returned a smile. He looked like he spent some time in the ring, handsome, but scarred. His nose appeared to have been broken at least once. As with the rest of the group, he was impeccably dressed. There was no further communication between Lucy and the mystery man as Cruz once again took charge.
“Let’s have a salute to good friends and good fortune”, Cruz directed as he proposed a toast with an alcoholic concoction that Fong had put together and delivered to the table.
The mystery drink was a Chinese Firebolt. It is a non-alcoholic cocktail made with cola, grenadine, lime juice, and other niceties served in a tall, iced glass. It was a favorite at the Fortune Cookie, quite enjoyable.
But Fong’s Firebolt gave new meaning to the word. His recipe included a Korean version of alcoholic rocket fuel known as Kum Pok Ju, Soju. Soju and its translucent blue vapors had a way of destroying straight line vision while retaining the peripheral component. The effects were akin to getting hit by a bus. Recovery time was two to four days, depending. No one ever complained about Fong’s Firebolt.
Cruz conducted the Firebolt drill and everyone put on a smile. Lucy headed back to the kitchen. Steve sat back and realized that this was a long, long day.
The entire group was functioning as though the event was choreographed. No one discussed a word of business. Everyone appeared to be intimately familiar with everyone else
.
Lucy’s crew delivered a spread of the finest Szechuan Cuisine this side of China. It included fiery hot stir-frys, soothing Chengdu Tea Smoked Duck, Sichuan Hot Pots, and a variety of soups and condiments for everyone to experience. The aromas were intoxicating. Everyone ‘ooohed’ and ‘aaahed’. All of the dishes were sampled by everybody. The last bit on the last dish was inhaled as everyone surrendered to dealing with the consequences of twice as much food consumption as the human body could sustain. It was a glorious moment.
Steve got the stare gaze from Cruz, which meant a question was on the way. Things quieted down and the group was involved with their own conversations. Hot Chai was delivered along with coffee and a variety of desserts. Miss Kim appeared to have some fancies in Steve’s direction. How he loved those Firebolts!
“Steve”, sounding a bit odd coming from Cruz, “I trust that your day was interesting”?
“Why do I have the feeling that he knows exactly how my day went, along with every other detail”, Steve asked himself?
“I waded into a bit of good fortune, Cruz. Have any idea what I’m talking about”, Steve countered in a questioning voice?
“Not in the least, Steve”, a smile curled up from the corner of his lips.
Steve had enough of the cat and mouse game.
“Miss Chao found this stuck into the back of a kitchen drawer in a house down near the Navy Base”, Steve said as he shoved the Johnny Benavidas business card in front of Cruz.
Cruz lifted an eyebrow, but projected no other expression.
“Steve, for various reasons I decided that you may be a valuable asset to our organization. I also felt that you might have an interest in joining us with the right deal. We’re one hundred per-cent legitimate”.
Cruz continued.
“Maersk and Angel Holdings are looking at a significant expansion of our shipping interest at the docks. Angel Holdings is going to risk a billion dollars in a business effort that could be an above-ground gold mine.”
Maersk was the prime container corporation that Cruz was banking on. Steve had his own thoughts as to how a successful business operation might be initiated.
“Fill in the voids with a bit of scrap metal business, expand to meet all the demands, watch every dime like it was your last, and it should have impressive returns”, he summarized as Cruz smiled.
Steve noticed Lucy conversing with the warrior that she had interest in earlier. She was discussing the chunk of gold on her wrist. Lucy noticed Steve’s curiosity as he nodded approval and acknowledged the relationship. This was the delivery boy that Cruz had sent to the Fortune Cookie.
“Steve, let me cut to the chase. You had an impressive record as an investigator. You gave us quite a bit of trouble. I want you on our side. We need you to take on a job for Angel Holdings”, was Cruz’s punch in Steve’s face.
Cruz had invested a wad, but he knew that his odds were good.
“Answer a question for me, Cruz. With the right answer, I’ll consider”.
For the first time the ball was in Steve’s court. He had the advantage, and with careful timing and a bit of luck, he might even live through the night. Cruz had no idea where Steve was coming from.
“I’ll try my best, Steve”, was Cruz’s best invitation.
“What’s with the car, the mansion, the two-thousand dollar bottle of wine, and other amenities”?
Steve stared through his eyes looking for the slightest ounce of bullshit, but didn’t detect any.
Cruz took a deep breath and continued with a ‘gotcha’ smirk on his face.
“My mama, until the day she died, spoke of the cop who saved her life. She always said that she
wanted to do something really nice for him. I made her a solemn promise on her death bed that I would”.
Cruz made the sign of the cross, sat back and exhaled, apparently reliving the moment.
“All right, Cruz, what do you need”, Steve asked with interest?
“Angel holdings needs a troubleshooter like yourself, Steve. Someone who can smell a rat in garbage can. Someone who I can trust”. Cruz emphasized the ‘I’.
“You will answer to me and no one else. Whatever you need, you get. Do you know where I’m going with this”?
“Yes sir, intimately”, Steve answered with a broad spectrum of authority and respect for Cruz from many police investigations.
Cruz had more enemies than friends, some earned legitimately, some not. The fact was that Custer had a better chance at the Little Big Horn than anyone who crossed Cruz Benavidas. With Cruz, it was ‘when’, not ‘if’.
In Steve’s business, ‘troubleshooter’ was a code word for ‘hit-man’. He would assume the responsibility for actions that would affect the business. It was an all or nothing game and would make him a wealthy bastard, or a dead one. Either way, it would be better than what he was leaving behind.
Cruz shifted gears. “I would like to have you review this contract”, Cruz said as he retrieved the documents from his inside jacket pocket.
“Talk about being prepared”, Steve thought in amazement.
“Cruz, I’m going to tell you something else. My mother’s name is DeAngelo. We’re from Teterboro. That wad of toilet paper in your hand isn’t worth a pile of dog shit without this”, as Steve extended his right hand. “You’ve heard of this before. This is a Jersey Contract”! Cruz looked surprised and impressed as he offered his right hand in return.
Steve smiled and said, “Done”!
Cruz looked victorious and realized that his self-esteem had been elevated to a new level by a poverty stricken Jersey Boy.
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Slattery”!
Cruz was unusually enthusiastic.
“Now I would like to ask a huge favor from you. I need you to solve a problem that has nothing to do with Angel Holdings, the docks, the scrapyards, none of it. It’s purely personal”.
Cruz pegged Steve’s curiosity meter.
“Consider it the biggest job I would ever ask of you”, as Cruz appeared to be begging.
“What do you have in mind, Mr. Benavidas”, Steve asked with a disconcerting glare?
“I believe you remember Marie, my sister”, Cruz questioned?
“Yes, Sir, I do. She was involved in a motorcycle wreck or something to that effect. She was never found.”
Cruz countered, “Or so we were told”.
Cruz expounded on what he knew.
“Marie lived for motorcycles. I never understood the attraction, but she had a compulsion for the damn things. She made every ride, every event, from here to Sturgis, Miami, and beyond. She said her motorcycling credits were not complete without the Four Corners Run”.
“What’s Four Corners”, Steve asked as he gazed totally lost into Cruz’s eyes?
“The Southern California Motorcycling Association has a prestigious award for anyone who can ride their bike in twenty-one days form here in San Ysidro, to Blaine, Washington, to Madawaska, Maine, and then on to Key West, hence the four corners. Marie disappeared somewhere near Madawaska. The Maine State Police and the Aroostook County authorities in Presque Isle never found Marie, but did find her motorcycle in a stand of trees, and apparently without damage. It was located by two hunters deep in what they call the Allagash Wilderness Area near a place known as Ben Lake, which has very limited access. Marie would not ride her baby on an old, barely passable logging road. She was very protective of that motorcycle. The last people to have contact with her were at Plourde’s Harley Davidson in Madawaska. They are holding the bike at my request”.
“What happened to her riding partner? I recall that he was found, but they came up dry”, Steve queried with a no-bullshit level of need-to-know facts?
“His name is Roy Decker. His address is the Dunlap Sanitarium in Santa Monica”.
Steve was more confused than he realized, with a stare that demanded some answers.
“Something apparently blew his mind out. A canine deputy found him about fifty yards from Marie’s motorcycle. Roy was nude, hallucinating, and violent when they drug his ass out of the woods under restraints. He’s been in that condition ever since”.
“What was he on”, Steve asked with authority?
“The blood tests came back negative. He was perfectly sober, except for whatever happened to his head. No drugs, no booze, no narcotics, nothing”!
Cruz shook his own head and raised his eyebrows in a look of disbelief.
Steve was genuinely interested, even though the facts didn’t add.
“I’ll take this case if you kindly answer another question for me”?
Cruz smiled condescendingly.
“What is it, Mr. Slattery”?
“I assume that you are aware of a certain plane crash near here that took place this afternoon”?
Cruz already knew the question.
“It was an act of God! We are all at his Mercy”.
Mr. Benavidas had a way of always maintaining control. What you didn’t need to know, you never knew about!
Kong was most endearing and brought forth the welcoming party. The evening ended with congratulatory handshakes form the entire table. It meant that if Steve ever screwed up, Kong would be his problem.
“What a way to make a living”, he thought!
Aliens in the Allagash
Chapter 4
Wallagrass, Maine
Friday morning at the Wallagrass Town Hall was a buzz. Jim Gagnon (Guy’on), the Town manager, was trying to resolve a multi-million dollar fine and fee assessment resulting from a recent Federal investigation. The FBI decision found the town liable for a significant amount of the cost. Two investigators assigned from the Maine State Attorney’s Office were trying to make sense out of financial and other case liabilities that left the town broke and reeling as a result. Local residents were ablaze with concern and fears.
“We simply don’t have the money, Jim”, one resident pleaded in a desperate voice, “These costs are five times our annual budget”.
“Mike, this is a serious matter”, Jim returned, “and this is why the investigators are here. I am more aware than anybody as to what we are facing”.
“Jim, we’ll have to close the school and raise the tax rate beyond what anyone can afford”, Mike continued, “You’ll be signing a death warrant for Wallagrass. What are we going to do? How the hell did we end up with a three million dollar bill from the Feds for chasing aliens around the Allagash? Are they nuts”?
Another resident jumped into the conversation, “Jim, this is the most preposterous thing I ever heard. We’re paying for alien invaders? Are you insane? This is as absurd as the night I helped to haul that screaming nude idiot out of the watering area behind Ben Lake”!
“Yeah”, another resident joined in, “we’re paying the freight for some rich drug addict Hollywood big shot that should have just as well stayed home. Even us locals don’t venture into the Allagash without precautions, Jim. We should have left him to the wolves”!
The informal town meeting quickly elevated into chaos with that statement. Jim took command.
“Settle down, everybody. Quiet down, now. We’re all friends here. These investigators were sent here under the authority of the Governor’s office to gather the facts”.
The crowd silenced as Jim continued, “Please understand what happened. We sustained emergency costs that our insurance provider denied, based on the FBI report. We’re not rolling over! The Town of Wallagrass got sued for falsifying evidence on their investigation reports.”
Mike interrupted, “We didn’t falsify anything. I’m just a volunteer deputy, Jim. We all saw the lights. We heard the sounds, we felt the electric in the air and the groun
d shake, and we all saw those things roaming about the trees watching us. Bob took a shot at one of them varmints closing in on us and nothing happened! Bob never missed a target in his life. There were some weird things going on, but it was a cold and dark night with torrential rain. The Allagash is good at playing tricks like this. We all feared for our safety, but space men? C’mon Jim, give it up! The Feds did everything but call us a gang of ignorant back-country liars”!
The crowd again rose to the moment, louder than before.
“Please, quiet down, everybody”, Jim commanded in a raised voice with arm gestures. “There are a lot of things that need to be explained. We’re all friends here. We all grew up together. Our kids are growing up together. Please let these gentleman from Bangor do their job and try to get this situation under control. We’re all on the same side. If anybody goes down with this ship, I’ll be the first one. I promise you that. This family will never be chopped up like firewood”.
The crowd settled. “I’ll be speaking with the Governor later this afternoon. Mike, you’re the District Representative. Please have all pertinent questions ready to go”. Mike nodded. “We will report back with everything as we hear it”.
