Twisted (A Zeta Cartel Novel Book 5)

by AJ Adams

"Ty kurwo!"

  "Like you said, it was a trap."

  "You crafty bitch!"

  I laughed, just to get at him. "Yup. Every word was taped. Now who's screwed?"

  "Okay, everyone freeze!" Smith barrelled down the stairs, blinding bright in high vis gear. Seeing Jorge with his gun to Kowalczyk's head, he brightened. "Santos," he growled. "I saw you coming here, and I knew you were up to no good."

  "Smith, you've got the wrong end of the stick."

  But the plod was too excited to listen. "Finally," he growled. "I've got you bang to rights."

  Standoff. God knows what might have happened but then bright lights surged out of the darkness of the basement.

  "That's enough." Lord Grandville appeared, Ferdy Firth behind him. "Stand down." He was talking to Smith.

  "But Sir," the plod wailed. "You can't be serious!"

  "As serious as the Official Secrets Act," the politician said.

  Burly men in plain suits swarmed in, cuffing Kowalczyk efficiently. As Colin groaned and sat up, they cuffed him too.

  I elbowed them aside, focussed on the blood dripping from Jorge's arm. "Oh my love, is it very bad?"

  "Awful," Jorge grinned. "This is my second favourite shirt."

  "You're such a plonker." I hadn't realised, but I was in floods. "Ohmigod, Jorge. For a moment I thought you were dead."

  He put a hard arm around me. "No way, fresa," he chided me. "I wouldn't let that sloppy fuck kill me."

  "The Zetas framed me," Kowalczyk was trying it on.

  "Bullshit," Lord Grandville said bluntly. "The whole conversation was sent live to my phone." He took Smith aside. "Detective Inspector, let me bring you up to speed."

  Kowalczyk knew it was game over. "I should have shot you the moment I saw you," he growled at me.

  I was as light as a feather. "You would've missed."

  "Yeah," Jorge laughed. "You couldn't even hit me."

  "And from less than three feet away," Paco chided.

  "You'd think the FSB would do better," James mourned.

  I dug in Jorge's pocket, fishing for his handkerchief, and using it to bandage the wound. Thankfully, it was a thin line, more gore than anything else. "We should find you a doctor and get this stitched."

  "It can wait." Jorge really is the limit sometimes. But he was grinning at Ferdy. "Thanks for patching me through to your uncle."

  Ferdy shifted from foot to foot. "I couldn't believe it, at first. It sounded like the plot for a James Bond. Is Kowalczyk truly a spy?"

  "He is."

  "Good God."

  "That may be so but Santos is a crook," Smith wasn't letting go. "Lord Grandville, please. Can't I arrest him?" he pleaded.

  "Another day," Lord Grandville patted the copper on the shoulder, "Don't file any reports, there's a good chap. If anyone asks, this was a security drill."

  Seeing two burly men peel off and pointedly turn off CCTV gave me the shivers. From their looks, they were as efficient at disappearing people as the Zetas.

  I put a hand on Lord Grandville's arm. "I don't care about Kowalczyk. But Colin isn't a spy."

  "My dear, I heard it all," the politician said gently. "The things he did to you are unspeakable."

  "I know. But disappearing him would kill my parents."

  He didn't understand, but the Zetas did. Lencho rolled his eyes, Paco sighed and James was shaking his head but their silence told me they understood.

  "Have the brother to fill you in on Kowalczyk's dealings," Jorge advised softly. "You don't want us getting involved - not even in secret courts."

  "I guess so," Lord Grandville sighed. He turned around. "Smith, my dear chap, excellent news," he announced genially. "You're allowed to make an arrest after all."

  As Smith cheered up, reading Colin his rights in a loud voice, and Lord Grandville moved away, murmuring with the burly men, I saw an evil glint in Jorge's eye.

  He checked his phone and then he was buttonholing Smith, "I hear there's ten bricks of coke at Kowalczyk's place. The place is swarming with dealers. You should go check it out."

  The cheek of him was astonishing: he would use Smith to get rid of the last of Kowalczyk's people. Then, with the decks cleared, he'd complete his takeover.

  "Right, and when I get there, the joke's on me," Smith growled. "I'm not falling for your tricks."

  "My dear friend," Jorge put an arm around his shoulders. "I happen to have live feed here. Let me show you."

  "That's our patrón," Lencho was at my side, smiling proudly. "More cunning than a fox."

  "Twistier than a slinky, I say."

  The crew crowded around me, filled with triumph.

  "You okay?" James asked me.

  "Great!"

  "We were worried." Paco hugged me. "You were awesome, chica."

  "Fenomenal," Lencho agreed.

  I just wept. "You were awesome, too! I couldn't have done it without all of you having my back."

  "You're the bravest," Lencho kissed me.

  "And pretty," James laughed.

  "Back off," Jorge was back. "That's my girl you're pawing."

  "Actually, I want to thank all of you," Lord Grandville interrupted the love-in. "You've rendered us a singular service."

  Talk about awkward. We all felt it.

  "It was a pleasure," Jorge took over smoothly. "We enjoyed taking the hijo de puta down."

  "I wish we could shoot him," his lordship sighed. "Sadly, we are constrained by rules." Then he brightened. "But our friends in military intelligence can impose long sentences."

  "Brilliant!" I was all for it. "The bugger deserves it."

  "Speaking of just deserts," Jorge had that hawk-like aspect that signalled business. "I wonder if I might ask a favour?"

  "I suppose you'll want me to sign off on your seaport," Lord Grandville sighed.

  "That would be great," Jorge smiled.

  "Or you'll go to the press with this story?"

  "Never," Jorge was sweet as cream. "We should be friends. You might find me useful, seeing I work outside the rules."

  "Hmm." Lord Grandville thought it over and smiled. "I like the idea. Tell me, are you racing at Cheltenham next week?"

  As the two put their heads together, I looked through the window, watching Colin being bundled into a white police van. He was not a happy bunny.

  Beside me, Ferdy was still goggling. "I think Jorge and Uncle are having a bromance," he said awed. "Smith will have a fit."

  "He'll have to suck it up," I told him. "As for me, after I get Jorge fixed up, I'm going to Bubbles. I plan to get totally plastered."

  Ferdy brightened instantly. "May I come?"

  "Absolutely!"

  But as I turned, my heart almost stopped. Mum and Dad, large as life, stood before me.

  "Persia?" Mum asked worried. "What's going on?"

  Dad was gazing out of the window, shell-shocked. "Ohmigod, is that Colin? Why is he being arrested?"

  I should have known that there are no happy endings.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jorge

  She'd faced down an armed blackmailing murderous thug, but when her family turned up, my poor girl paled.

  Her papa was ramrod straight, grey-haired and with deep frown lines by his eyes and mouth. "The hospital called to say I had to come for a procedure. But I'm not sick. I came to sort it out and I find Colin is being arrested." He sounded furious. "Persia, what did you do this time?"

  I was bristling with rage. "Don't you speak to her like that!"

  The beak of a nose pointed in my direction. "You're Jorge Santos," he sniffed. "Stay out of our business."

  He was Persia's father, but it took every ounce of control not to smack him in the kisser.

  "Jorge, no." Persia's mouth drooped. "Let me handle this, love."

  "Persia?" Her mama's voice quavered with tension. "What's going on?"

  She gave it to them straight. "Mum, Dad, I'm afraid this is bad news. Colin is in a lot of trouble."

  "You
did this!" her papa exploded.

  But her mama took his sleeve. "Gavin, it's too late," she said softly. "We knew this might happen."

  He deflated in a second flat. "But Faith," he whispered. "We'll lose our boy."

  My anger vanished. The rage and fury came from fear. This man understood the score. Smith would throw the book at his son. From the lines, grey hair and stiff walk, the papa was in poor health. He might never see his child again. Suddenly, I felt sad for him.

  "Dad, if you can persuade Colin to turn Queen's evidence, it might not be too bad." Persia looked at Lord Grandville, pleading, "You'll need his testimony, won't you?"

  "But Persia," he exclaimed. "He blackmailed you, sold you to a vicious thug. He would have killed you!"

  "Oh, God!" Persia's papa paled. "Not murder too!"

  "Dad, come sit down in here." Persia piloted him right into room 314. "Mum, you too."

  Typical Persia. She'd not leave them, even if they deserved it. It wasn't weakness; my girl had the bravery of a lion, and the softest heart in the country.

  Lord Grandville was shaking his head. "Incredible," he said.

  "I know." I felt it too. "I'm the luckiest man on the planet."

  "I believe you are." He put out his hand. "Thank you for a most successful morning. We'll meet at Epsom. I'll come to your box."

  "Sure thing."

  As Lord Grandville went off, Persia was calling to me, "Jorge, can you rustle up a taxi so Dad can see his solicitor?"

  Me, I would have let her brother rot but I would not argue, not in front of her family. "We can drop him off, corazón. We'll take your mama home too."

  But I stopped to talk with the team first. "Kowalczyk is in the slammer, and Smith will arrest whoever is at the mansion. Let's take advantage and clean up."

  James grinned. "Lock, stock and barrel?"

  "Yeah. You know the drill, so follow the usual procedure. Take Rovero and his sicarios for muscle. Disappear the bodyguard and offer the rest a chance to join us. Oh, and when you have it sorted, get Tommy Q to give you a heads-up on who's showing promise. We'll need some new street bosses."

  "We're on it," James said with relish.

  "For Christ's sake, be careful, James."

  "Sure, patrón."

  "And Paco –"

  "Staying well out of trouble, patrón, don't worry."

  Lencho leaned in, "It'll be just as you say, patrón, quick and careful."

  That's when my brain caught up with my ears. Patrón. Not Jorge, not even boss. But patrón. The respect I'd craved was in that little word. It was right there, given naturally.

  I swallowed, emotion swelling. "Good. So what are you hanging around for? Go already!" Because a Zeta chief doesn't do hugs or emo. Then, to their vanishing backs, "Be sure to call in!" Because I loved them. They turned, smiles flashing, and then they were roaring off, excited at the prospect of victory.

  It was complete annihilation, too. In fact, the whole operation went off without a hitch. With Kowalczyk gone, his people just switched. There weren't even any grumbles because with the Pole being all about blackmail instead of proper business, they'd had more downs than ups. With the Zetas in charge, everyone would be in the money.

  By the time we'd run Persia's parents around and dropped them off at their home, I was receiving texts announcing our victory.

  "Mission accomplished, love?" Persia asked.

  "Yeah, it worked out well." I took in the quiet reflection. "What about your family?"

  She blinked rapidly. "Dad apologised, Jorge. And Mum, well, she was in floods. They've been miserable all these weeks."

  "Ay, fresa. What a mess, huh?"

  "Exactly," she sighed. "They knew Colin was up to his neck in trouble but they hoped that it would all work out somehow."

  "I guess that's what parents do."

  She looked straight ahead, saying calmly, "I warned them the trial would be a dirty business, and I told them to follow their solicitor's instructions to the letter, no matter what their feelings are."

  We Zetas blow trouble away so we don't deal with court cases a lot but it was crystal what would happen. "Your brother will testify against Kowalczyk, which will get him points. As for his own case, they can't use us Zetas, which only leaves you as a witness. Their brief will do his best to take you apart. Shredding your reputation means less time for his client."

  "Exactly," Persia said serenely. "It'll be just like the newspapers."

  I pulled up and parked, checking automatically for trouble. Even with us ruling our plaza with an iron hand, and Zeta Towers in the centre of our fief, checking was automatic. Persia was watching too; security had become an integral part of her.

  "Mum and Dad took me in when I needed them," Persia said calmly. "They supported me all these years, Jorge. And although we've had our trials, they are my parents."

  "Yes, they are."

  "Taking me in wasn't easy," she reminded me. "And after I was raped, bullies made Colin's life hell at school. That can sour a kid."

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say that if they'd acted better, trusting her and given her the support she needed instead of painting her a problem child, they might have been stronger as a family. But there is never a point second-guessing the past.

  "Okay, fresa. So, you'll let them tear you down in court so that your hueco brother gets a lighter sentence." It made me sick to think of it. "He'll probably be out in a year."

  "That's the plan," Persia replied.

  I took her hand. "Corazón, it will be brutal. And you may still lose them. They won't be able to cope with the guilt."

  Her eyes were sad. "They need him, Jorge. And I won't take him away from them."

  She would sacrifice herself so that her parents got their son back. It was a gift beyond my understanding. But what can you say? "My love, if it's what you want."

  "It is."

  "Then that's what we do."

  I took my girl straight to the penthouse, and then I was off. "Today I'm a hero but politics is a fast-moving game."

  Persia gave me a hug. "Go and get those papers signed quick, love. Before they change their mind."

  Traffic was streaming out as the working population headed for the pub for happy hour but the staff in Lord Grandville's office were beavering away.

  "Mr Santos! We have expressed the documentation. Could we have your signature?" Ben Cartwright handed over a sheaf of papers and then, twitching nervously, checked and double-checked every page was signed and dated.

  I noted the wood panelling and the view over London's Tower Bridge. British politicians do well but their civil servants live like kings. Frankly, I was a touch envious. Money can buy luxury but history is priceless.

  While I admired my surroundings, Cartwright added his own fancy swirling signature, right next to Lord Grandville's. I held my breath. Just a few hours before, I'd been standing in that basement, watching Persia take down Kowalczyk. Without her, this wouldn't have been possible.

  Finally, Cartwright put the pen down. "It's all shipshape," he announced. "Congratulations, Mr Santos." Then he smiled, "You may open your seaport."

  I'd made it. "Thank you very much, Mr Cartwright."

  "Please, call me Ben." He glowed with satisfaction. "Jolly good work this morning, if I may say so. Lord Grandville was very chipper."

  Being on the side of the angels was definitely different. "It was my pleasure. And for God's sake, call me Jorge!"

  I shook his hand, and it was all I could do not to jump up and down with glee. But I kept my cool and walked out calmly, even though I couldn't quite feel my feet touch the ground.

  James, Lencho, and Paco were waiting in the Artful Dodger, a pub across the river. They lounged casually against the bar, holding pints of darkly foaming beer, their bruised faces a perfect fit for a joint named for a famous pickpocket.

  When I walked in, they hushed expectantly. I counted to three, just to tease, before announcing, "Tequila's on me."

  "Fenomenal!
" James hugged me.

  "Success," Lencho exclaimed.

  "And well earned," Paco agreed.

  "Tonight, we celebrate," I promised.

  "Champagne and a blonde," James decided.

  "We deserve a party." I called Persia. "Fresa, it's done."

  "Smashing!" By the voices and clatter in the background, she was in her office, back at work. "I'm so happy for you, love."

  "See if the socios want to join us at Bubbles?"

  "They've already said yes," Persia giggled.

  When I hung up, Paco and James were discussing the best way to manage our expanded plaza while Lencho was projecting how much new business we'd be doing.

  It had all come together. I should have been happy, I felt my success, but mostly, I knew this was the end.

  I had won, but giving away a tonne of product and calling in the cops to do it was unprecedented. There weren't rules about it, because it was just too fucking out there for anyone to consider it. But I had done it and pretty soon I'd face judgement.

  In fact, it came faster than I thought. Walking into Zeta Towers, a tense hush put me on edge. Before I could ask, I saw him: my cousin Arturo, the jefe, large as life and in my office.

  My heart dived straight into my shoes but I forced a proper greeting. "Cousin! Welcome back to London." I hugged him, asking, "How are you? But I needn't ask. You look great."

  The jefe smiled. "Jorge, it's been too long!" He kissed me and held my shoulders, inspecting me. "You are the spitting image of your papa," he sighed. "Such a wonderful man. Honest, loyal and brave." And then, smiling, "Well, well, well! James, Lencho and Paco, too! Joder, it's great to see you all! I feel as if we haven't met in years."

  It was hugs all round, but I knew it was over. He would know I'd broken his rules and that would trigger the inevitable. Still, I'd won the war and delivered the seaport. Perhaps my name wouldn't be a complete disgrace. But I'd lose my friends, my work and most of all, Persia. At that, I wanted to die.

  "So, you completed the takeover and signed the paperwork for my seaport." The jefe is always up on the latest events. It's why he's the boss. "Well done!"

  "It was a team effort." I praised James, Paco and Lencho for their work, itemising their skill, attitude and loyalty. It was the least I could do.