“On it, Dad. What about tonight?”
“We’re going to make the Norte?os extinct in that location tonight. How did Morado get onto Mike?”
“Neil thought Morado had ears everywhere in the department. They killed his client within two days. Then they started on Mike. He told the guy who delivered a threat from Morado that he was through with the case. Mike explained even if he wanted to testify he couldn’t because of lawyer/client privilege. It wasn’t enough. They want him dead. The only thing stopping them is the police protection Neil ordered for him round the clock. We know they’ll get to him or my grandkids soon if we can’t get them to back off. My wife and I have been in hiding since all this began. We would have all been gone by now but we thought the police would soon be able to stop these gangsters. I know now that thinking will get us all killed. How can this be allowed to happen.”
“Illegal immigration, drug use gone wild, no backup for the police from anyone, and the media giving sainthood to all the ‘bangers that get what they deserve. The gangs nearly across the board own parts of most major cities,” Nick answered. “You’re right. We live in rough times. It didn’t happen overnight. It won’t get cured overnight. Gus can tell you though - they’ve been guarding the Cornelio Morado name.”
“We broke through their communications,” Gus said. “No one spoke of the Morado name which means he may be the mystery link we’ve been looking for. They broadcast their assault plans as if they don’t care what anyone does about them or who knows. I know Nick doesn’t want to admit it but if the Norte?os get a controlling foothold in Pacific Grove as they have in Monterey and Seaside, we’ll be hard pressed not to either be in constant open warfare, or be absorbed into their structure.”
“We can stop them,” Jean said.
“Hey,” Benny said, pointing out the window. “There’s a bunch of them.”
Seven obvious gangbangers wearing Norte?os colors with red as the driving color, some with red shoelaces, belts or shoes themselves. They wore black hoodies with San Francisco 49er caps or University of Nebraska caps, because the sports gear reflected their colors. The Norte?o in front wore a hair style popular with them, a Mongol type topknot in the back with a shaved side. He was the only one without cap or hood. They scanned the street around them, obviously looking for sign their brethren visited earlier. It became clear they meant to come inside the Monte Café.
“Don’t kill them in my Monte,” Rachel warned, drawing appreciative laughter.
Quinn moved Benny and Sam to the rear corner. “Keep Sam calm, B. If you see something we don’t, send him.”
“I will.”
“Sit next to Benny, Mr. Villa,” Sonny said.
Sonny, Quinn, and Jean slipped on aprons like Nick and Rachel wore, moving over to the counter area. Rachel handed Gus a cup of coffee. He sat down in front of Benny and Villa. Sam sat at Benny’s right. Topknot sauntered in with smiling assuredness a couple steps ahead of his companions. Rachel greeted them with Jean next to her while the last of the Norte?os’ crew cleared the door.
“Hi. Table for seven?”
Topknot chuckled. His companions glowered at Nick, Sonny and Quinn nearby, making hand movements at their sides, fingers pointing down in two’s or three’s as they included shrugging side to side gestures meant to impress in their gangster act. Quinn chuckled. His humorous reaction drew head back, half lidded belligerent stares of challenge.
“We lookin’ for some friends, Mrs.” Topknot made an encompassing gesture with his hand at the restaurant surroundings. “They was supposed to drive by… and you know… say hello. I guess they late.”
“Does that mean you want a table for seven to wait for them,” Rachel asked, still smiling.
A young hard looking woman moved near Topknot. “What the hell we doin’ Jess? Alfredo missed the date. This dump be a smokin’ ruin if he been by. Call the prick.”
Topknot/Jess glanced down at the woman. “Did that. Chill… Rita.”
“Table for seven,” Rachel repeated.
Rita glanced at Rachel with annoyance. “Take a walk you old skank.”
“Uh oh,” Jean muttered.
“Oh… you did not just call me an old skank!” Rachel backed up in a sideways martial arts fighting stance, gesturing with outstretched hand in a come on gesture. “Nobody disrespects Momma in her own place! I’ll bitch slap your eyeballs out of that Pokemon face of yours, girlie! Come get some!”
Jean backed away from her Mom with a sigh as Rita gasped out a string of obscenities. Rachel’s Pokemon insult had drawn snorts of amusement from Rita’s companions. Rachel added a foot tapping impatient gesture to the mix.