“Oh, I know you’re good.” Tony smiled, still lying across the bed, looking like he belonged on the cover of a romance novel. “Now get. How many times do I have to tell you that?” He swished his hand as if scooting me out of the room.
“I’m going. I’m going.” I opened the door. “But I’ll be back.”
LC
33
“Rio’s plane is in the air.”
“Very good. Junior and I are at the warehouse now. I’ll call you later,” I told Harris and then ended the call.
So, Rio was on his way to California, and Junior and I were with six of our men, preparing to examine the hijacked truck and the dead bodies in the warehouse. Best-case scenario would be that the dead bodies were not Alejandro’s men, so that somehow we could avoid an all-out war. I’d been around long enough to know that war wouldn’t be good for any of us, especially Miguel and Rio, but I wasn’t holding out much hope.
“Carlos,” I said with open arms as I greeted the brother of my deceased friend Pablo. He was standing at the entrance to the building, flanked by two very large Dominicans, each holding a TEC-9 semiautomatic machine gun. “My deepest sympathy for your loss. Pablo was a good man and a good friend.”
“Thank you, LC,” Carlos said as he gave me a firm handshake. “You were a good friend to my brother. He talked about your many adventures in Asia.”
“Yeah, me and Pablo went way back,” I said. “He saved my life on more than one occasion, so I can promise you I will not rest until the people responsible for his death are wiped off the face of the earth.”
“I know this, LC, and my boys and I will help in any way we can.”
I glanced at the men carrying the TEC-9 handguns. They looked like they meant business, which was something I liked.
“So, with that being said, where are the men and the truck you found? It’s time we found out who we’re up against.”
“Right this way.” Carlos gestured with his arm and led the way down a corridor. Stopping in front of a large sliding steel door, he stepped aside and covered his nose with his hand. One of his men opened the door, and the odor hit us immediately.
“Holy shit,” I mumbled, taking one step in and another one back. The indescribable stench of death filled my nostrils.
“Yeah, the smell takes a little getting used to,” Carlos explained. “Try not to breathe through your nose.”
It took me a few moments, but I finally walked inside and was met with something that looked like a scene out of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. Blood and guts were splattered all over the cinder-block walls. Both men lay dead on the floor with their hands tied behind their backs, their bodies riddled with gunshot wounds. This wasn’t a shooting; it was an execution.
“Johnny, are these the men?” I waved over my guy who’d taken possession of the truck from Alejandro’s men.
He studied the bodies only briefly before declaring, “Yep, that’s them, all right. You can’t see his face too well anymore, but this one has that tattoo of a spider on his neck I was telling you about.”
“Son of a bitch,” I spat.
“You know what this means, don’t you, Pop?” Junior asked.
I ignored Junior’s stupidity, still focused on the two men before me. Of course I knew what it meant. It meant that son of a bitch Alejandro and his piece of shit son had been playing me all along. And to top that off, now they had Rio.
“Junior, I want you to get a hold of all the men loyal to us and have them meet us at the usual spot in three hours.”
Junior came closer and said under his breath, “So, what do we do now, Pop? We going to war?”
“I don’t think we have any choice, Junior. But we’re going to wait till Orlando and Paris get here. I need to know what Orlando got out of Miguel, and I have a job for your sister.” I checked my watch. “I texted them both before we left. They shoulda been here by now.”