“I would say no more than ten kilos and ten crates. That’s enough to keep crime going for a few months and the cops busy in Cuba. I want to maintain jobs, not pollute my country.”
“Of course, Salazar. I know it’s always been about the good of the people with you. I can have those transported over here in no time. I’ll get my men on it as soon as I get back. How do you want it shipped over? I can get a private plane with no hassle.”
Emilio shook his head. “It’s too risky. This isn’t the sixties anymore. I have the United States on my ass. They’re watching every flight coming in and out of Cuba. They have been for decades. The Yankee pieces of shit won’t let us live. My people are starving. There is barely any gas for transportation. With Russia struggling, we have no exchange with them anymore. It’s why I’ve turned to drugs. Need to keep some sort of economy going. Something appealing to get those young Yankee motherfuckers to travel to Cuba. I need tourism most of all. You know how word of mouth spreads. The drugs and pussy are always where the money is at. My girls are the best, now the drugs will be too.”
Ricardo nodded, understanding. “I have a few names I can contact in Miami. There are some Feds I know, who I can call in a favor to. I can also reach out to Alejandro Martinez. That son of a bitch knows everyone. It’s the least I could do.”
“I appreciate that, but now’s not the time. Perhaps it would be something to consider in the future. I think it would be safer if we used boat transportation, during the night. The cargo would need to be unloaded no later than five o’ clock in the morning on the dock. The crates will need safe transportation until they offload at the port. I’ll pay you half now and half when they get delivered.”
“No problem. Whatever you want, my friend. I can make it all happen, Emilio. It’s not about the money. We’re old comrades, I’m here to help you,” Ricardo answered, never taking his eyes off Salazar.
And I never took my stare off Ricardo, sizing him up the whole damn time. Unable to hold my tongue any longer, I casually remarked, “You’re being awfully cooperative for a man known for the exact opposite. From what I hear, you’re nothing but a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
“I—”
I put my hand up in the air, silencing him. “That wasn’t a question.”
“Damien…” Emilio warned in a tone I didn’t appreciate.
I grinned, glancing over at him. “How does that saying go? Keep your friends close and your enemies’ closer?” Looking back at Ricardo, I continued, “Let’s put it to the test, shall we? You’ve known your old friend Salazar here for quite some time, eh? What did you say it was, Emilio? Forty, forty-five years?”
“Damien, why are you interrogating Ricardo?” Salazar broke in, bringing my attention back to him.
“Just having a friendly conversation with one of your allies. Getting to know him man to man. But just hear me out. It’s about to get good.”
“Emilio, I think we’re done with this meeting. I’ll be in touch,” Ricardo declared as he stood to leave. His men followed suit.
“Before you haul ass, why don’t you tell your old comrade what you were up to on July 24th?
He froze mid-stance, completely caught off guard by my question.
I smiled. “Oh, that got your attention.” I leaned into the table, cocking my head to the side. “Or better yet, next time you try to come in here with your bullshit cooperation, I suggest you cover your tracks. Now, take a seat,” I firmly ordered.
His eyes widened, his mind was spinning as he calculated his next move. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I stood up from my chair, and placed my hands in my pockets. Walking to the opposite side of the table. Never once breaking eye contact with him. “I don’t? See, I thought we were in the business of making things happen, and the only thing you’ve made happen is setting up your so called friend.”
Ricardo immediately narrowed his eyes at me, taking in my words. “Emilio, I don’t know what this piece of shit is insinuating, but I’ve heard enough. Is this how you run your country now? Allowing your boys to run their mouths, disrespecting your guests? I suggest you tell your bitch to back down before I put a bullet in his head.”
“No disrespect, Ricardo. I don’t know what has come over my soldier, but I will handle it as I see fit,” Emilio chimed in, giving me another warning glare. “It was great catching up. Please give my regards to your family.”
He nodded to Emilio still trying to hold his ground, even though it was caving beneath him. “Till next time, my friend.” With that, he stood, turning his back to us. Ready to leave.
“Ricardo, you didn’t answer my question, so allow me to rephrase,” I calmly stated, stopping him dead in his tracks. “What exactly were you doing on July 24th at the American Embassy?”
He turned around and in three long strides, he was in my face with his gun pulled. Aiming it right between my eyes. Triggering my father to step in front of Salazar and draw his gun with only Ricardo in his sight.
“Again, motherfucker, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was in Puerto Rico, balls deep in my fucking mistress, if you must know,” he gritted out, getting up in my face.
I didn’t even flinch, unfazed by the cool metal on my forehead. Grinning big and wide, daring him to pull the fucking trigger.
“That’s enough!” Emilio roared, his voice echoing off the walls. “Ramón, back the fuck down! Damien, get the hell out of here! I will deal with you later!”
“But the fun just got started,” I rasped, stepping back and away from him.
Ricardo didn’t waver, redirecting the aim of his gun to my chest. Snidely smiling, thinking he gained the upper hand. I leisurely glanced down, looking at the red laser mark that was now placed over my heart. Grinning as I slowly gazed up through the slits of my eyes. Waiting a few seconds before taking the backs of my fingers and wiping away his target as if it was just a speck of dust.
Mocking him.
“Puerto Rico, eh?” Without any further ado, knowing I got my point across. I reached inside my military jacket, pulling out an envelope from the hidden pocket. “This says otherwise,” I argued, throwing it on the table, spilling out the contents. Pictures and documents lined the surface, laying out the truth of Ricardo’s betrayal.
“What the fuck is all this?” Emilio asked, narrowing his eyes at me. He grabbed onto the most incriminating piece of evidence. A time-stamped photo of Ricardo shaking hands with the Ambassador at the U.S. Embassy in Colombia.
“A picture is worth a thousand words, and that just spoke volumes,” I added, watching as Salazar picked up the document signed by Ricardo, agreeing to help the United States take down Cuban dictator, Emilio Salazar.
“Emilio, I—”
“I’ve known you over forty-years, and you come into my territory with the intentions of betraying me?”
“It’s not what it looks like,” he breathed out, lowering his gun like the pussy he was.