Watching-Part 9

[mjcmmv]

 

This one was a toughie. Thanks to Robbie C for all the help. 

 

PART 9
 

Chapter 38: Revenge

July 28th, 1995: ‘The ‘La Morena’
0900 
 

Pedrosa

The day after the killing, he watched the news broadcasts, but the initial reports were unrevealing. In the Miami Herald, there was just a brief summary of how Crockett died and a list of surviving family members. 

“Miami mourns the loss of one of its Metro Dade detectives, James Sonny Crockett, who was found shot early this morning in a Miami warehouse parking lot. He was rushed by helicopter to Jackson Memorial’s Trauma Unit where sadly, he died from his injuries. The investigation into the shooting is ongoing. Detective Crockett leaves behind a wife and daughter as well as a son from a previous marriage.”

The police commissioner held a press conference, but could only answer a few questions regarding the kidnapping and death of an undercover cop. “He was on assignment, that’s all I can tell you without compromising the investigation. And no, we don’t have any leads at this time.”

Lieutenant Castillo didn’t make a statement, but his Captain did. “My heart goes out to Detective Crockett’s family, friends and fellow officers. This was a great loss for them and for the citizens of Miami.”

Several days later, there was a story on the Eleven O’clock News that covered the funeral. Pedrosa stared at the screen, hoping to see Gina or Castillo. He caught sight of Gina, in a small clip, arriving at the church, and another showing her with Castillo at the cemetery as the Honor Guard gave her a folded American flag. She looked pale, shaken. Castillo sat next to her, holding her hand.  Pedrosa was disappointed the camera didn’t focus on Gina’s face. He wanted to see the suffering in her eyes.   

Ortiz was sitting off to the side, refusing to look at the television. “What if Crockett survived long enough to tell Castillo it was you?” he asked. 

“I doubt it. He was barely breathing when we left.” 

“He managed to drag himself out to the parking lot.”

“If he said anything to point the finger at me, they would be hunting me down by now. The investigation’s cold, Roberto. They have nothing.”  

Pedrosa leaned back in his chair. “So, did you know Crockett had another son? He’s fifteen years old.” 

Ortiz frowned. 

“You knew! Why didn’t you tell me?”  

“What difference does it make? The boy lives in Atlanta with his mother and stepfather. What, are you going to do? Kill him, too?”

“Perhaps. He’ll be a man someday. A man whose father was kidnapped and executed. Right now, he’s asking why. When he’s older, he’ll want to know who.” 

“Today, he is a teenager. This isn’t Columbia. A teenager in this country won’t be avenging his father. It’s Castillo you should be worrying about, not children.”

Pedrosa shrugged.  “Castillo is a cop. Nothing more.” 

“Castillo has a reputation that should worry you.” 

“So, we’ll take care of him, too.”

Ortiz stared.  “There’s an old saying I heard once: ‘A man who seeks revenge should dig two graves. One for his adversary… and one for himself.’ Something to think about.” 

 “Be careful, Roberto,” Pedrosa warned. He heard a frustrated sigh.

 

Now, three months had passed, and Pedrosa was even more convinced he was home free. Ortiz had successfully avoided the police by hiding out on the La Morena. Pedrosa knew the young man was unhappy, wondering if he could ever live in Miami again. 

On a morning in July, Pedrosa summoned him to his stateroom. “It’s time I visited Gina Crockett. I’ve set it up already.” 

“I thought you wanted me to handle it.”

He chuckled. “I don't think so, Roberto. Your picture is probably tacked up in every police station in the State of Florida. But we can go in at night together, strike and disappear.” 

Pedrosa could tell Ortiz was worried.  “Someone has been reporting to me and the news is good," he said. "It looks like the twenty-four-hour guard on her house has been discontinued.”

“Who got close enough to discover that?”

“An employment agency downtown owed me a favor. Last month, at my request, they placed Angela Ramos with a family three doors down from the Crockett’s house, working as a live-in au pair.”

“Didn’t you worry Gina Crockett might recognize her?”

“Angela changed her hair. And the thick glasses she bought hide her face well. I have no doubt Angela blends into the background with her act of innocence. She has many talents, Roberto, as I am sure you’re aware.”
He saw the young man look away.

“Stay away from the whores, Roberto. They will weaken your mind… and poison your soul.”

Pedrosa waited a moment for his words to sink in. “Angela will be reporting to me again today. If the news is good, I’ll let you know.

****

Gina’ neighborhood consisted mostly of modest ranches with two-car garages and a swing set in every yard. But over the past three months, her house was the only one with a police car parked twenty-four-seven outside her front door. Now, the police cars were gone.

Angela told Pedrosa she was sure the entire protection detail was over. Yesterday, she saw Crockett’s partner, Rico Tubbs, drive away and no one took his place. Except for an occasional police patrol, it looked as if the woman and her child were on their own.

“There are sensor lights, and an alarm system,” Ortíz said with a worried frown. 

“I’ve dealt with them before. I’ll take care of these, too.”

“I say we wait and be sure.”

“You talk like an old woman! Perhaps you should stay behind!”

“No, I’ll stand with you.”

“Good. Then tomorrow night we go. Nine o’clock. Cortez will drive and drop us off on a nearby street. I don’t want the police to see anyone suspicious parked near the house. We’ll stay in the dark and when the time is right, I will deal with the security. When I go in, you’ll stay outside and make sure I’m not disturbed.”

“Then you’ll kill her and go?”

Pedrosa smiled. “We’ll see. After all, she’s a beautiful woman.”

Ortiz shot him a glance. “What about the child?”

“No one survives. That’s how it’s done.”

Ortiz chewed the inside of his lip. “Okay, Carlos. Tomorrow, at nine.”

 

Ortiz

The meeting with Pedrosa had shaken him to the core. The man was possessed, and Roberto feared he was handcuffed to a madman. He wondered if he could hold on to his dream; the dream of living in prosperity in his newly adopted country.

When Carlos brought him into his organization, he knew he’d have to prove his loyalty to his patron. His very survival depended on this man’s trust and good will. But when he saw Pedrosa wasting precious energy, trying to destroy this cop, his thinking began to change. 

He tried to remain hopeful about tomorrow night’s hit, but it was obvious to him Castillo was a careful man who would never leave Crockett’s wife exposed to danger. He was convinced Pedrosa was underestimating him.

“Pedrosa needs you tomorrow night,” he told Cortez. “On shore. You’ll be driving.”

“Where are we going?” Cortez asked. 

“We may need to get away, fast.  That’s all you need to know.”

He watched the big man heave himself out of the soft upholstered chair and lumber out toward the gangplank. Cortez was from the old school. He obeyed authority and accepted his fate. Ortíz, on the other hand, was from a younger generation, more educated, and wise to the politics governing the cartels.

He picked up the phone and punched in some numbers. “Angela,” he said. “Listen and don’t say anything…”

There was a pause.

“He’s going to kill Crockett’s wife tomorrow night. Don’t go to your job in the morning. I don’t want cops ringing doorbells and asking you questions. I’ll be ashore. Bring the car and be waiting for me by the pond in the park around midnight.”

Lost in thought, Ortíz clicked off the phone and pushed down the antennae. Now he had an alternate plan. Angela would be there to bail him out in case he had to run. He shrugged away a momentary stab of guilt.  Loyalty didn’t fit into the equation at a time like this. He was a survivor and too talented to be dragged down by a man who no longer respected the established rules of power. 

 

July 29th                                                                                  Music: “Beautiful Crime” by Tamer                                                                   
2330
Rico

Instead of putting Sonny’s family in a safe house, Castillo agreed with Gina. Staying in her own home might lure Pedrosa out of hiding. But he also insisted on a sophisticated alarm system as well as providing her with around the clock protection. As a result, Gina had been putting up with surveillance houseguests for the past three months and now, she had had enough. It surprised Rico when Castillo went along. 

“We can patrol from the outside. The alarms are sufficient.”

Rico still wanted to stay, but she had smiled and told him no. “You worry too much. I have the alarms and you and Trudy need to sleep in your own beds.”

Yeah, but Pedrosa’s out there somewhere, watching and waiting for just the right moment

He remembered their conversation that morning. She reminded him she had her service revolver and was prepared to use it if she had to. 

“It’ll be okay, Rico. I promise.”

Brave words…

 But Rico didn’t care what Castillo said, and he didn’t care if Gina felt prepared. He wasn’t taking any chances. Sonny had begged him to watch out for his family and he promised his friend he would protect them. This time, he wasn’t letting Sonny down. 

After pacing all afternoon in his tiny apartment, he drove back to Gina’s house, content to sit in his car down the block and watch the house through a pair of binoculars. Not the best of vantage points, but for now, it would have to do.

He trained the binoculars on the living room windows hoping Gina’s neighbors wouldn’t report a peeping Tom. He could just make out her prone figure, resting on the couch. It looked as if she had fallen asleep in front of the TV… again.

Just to be sure, he decided to walk around the perimeter of the property to check things out.   He looked at his watch. It was 11:00 pm. He got out of his car and walked toward the house, scanning the area for suspicious cars or pedestrians. The street was deserted.

Gina’s home was set back a good bit from the curb and surrounded by a large lawn. He smiled as he remembered Crockett complaining about all the mowing he had to do on his days off. The image of Sonny grinning filled him with pain, but he pushed it out of his mind,   determined to keep himself focused. 

The security crew had tried to think of everything. There were alarms and light sensors everywhere. For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine Pedrosa having easy access, and yet, he wouldn’t put it past the man to find a way. Better to be over-vigilant, than give him an opening.

He knew where the sensors were and was able to avoid them. He walked around to the side of the house, happy to see all the windows were shut, thanks to the luxury of central air conditioning.

Finally, he reached the back of the house and hesitated by the southeast corner before proceeding into the yard. Everything seemed clear. The porch light was on, reflecting in the water of Emily’s little wading pool. The swing set cast long ghostly shadows on the grass; a tool shed huddled in the corner of the yard by a wooden fence. Rico stared at the structure and then he froze.

The door to the shed was opened a crack. If it was big enough to house the power mower, then it would be adequate to conceal a human being. He reached across his chest to release the snap on his holster. Crouching low, he crept around some trees, his eyes never leaving the structure for a minute.

A slight breeze rippled through the leaves and caught the light plywood door, causing it to sway open. Rico drew his weapon and waited to see if someone would emerge. Again, the wind brushed against his face and the door banged shut with a sharp crack.

“Damn! My nerves are shot.” He holstered his gun and straightened up, rubbing the tense muscles in his lower back. Gina was right. He needed some sleep.

He was about to go back to the car when the bushes behind him rustled, but before he could react, something heavy hit him on the back of his head. Stunned, he landed on his knees.

He gasped when the blade went in, ripping through skin and muscle. His hands flew to his side and he groaned. Then, another brutal blow came, this time to the side of his face and Rico fell on to his stomach. The last thing he remembered was the scent of the moist earth as it rushed up to meet him.

 

July 30th
0030
Gina

When she had finished watching one of the late-night talk shows, she switched the television off, reluctant to get involved in another senseless program. Hugging the pillow against her, she tried to relax. She knew she should get off the couch and sleep in the bedroom, but she couldn’t face a night alone in the cold, empty bed.

The living room light was still on, bathing the room in warm shades of yellow and orange. It was comforting, somehow. She pulled the afghan over her legs and decided she’d spend the night right where she was. Closing her eyes, she prayed for drowsiness to overtake her. “Deep breath, Gina,” she told herself, drawing in the air slowly. “You have to sleep.”

Three times she began to drift off, only to be awakened by the gentle rattling of the sliding glass doors leading out to the deck. “Boy, the wind is picking up tonight,” she thought. “Wonder if another storm headed this way.”

They had experienced a bad thunderstorm the other night, and it blew down her next-door neighbor's tree, missing her car by inches. Refusing to be caught unprepared this time, she aimed the controller back at the TV set and found the weather channel. Twenty minutes later, she reassured herself the skies were clear and turned the set back off. Now, the house seemed extra quiet. She heard the central air click on and felt the flutter of a cold breeze flowing down from the vent above. She pulled the afghan over her and closed her eyes. 

"Ico..." she heard Emily call out. 

She smiled. Ever since Rico and Marty had become permanent fixtures around the house, the little girl had accepted them as part of the family. She must be calling for one of them in her sleep. "Maybe I should cover her," she thought, wishing she could talk herself out of coming out from under the soft blanket. 

"Hi, Ico. Hi! Hi! Ico, Ico." This time, the child sounded wide awake.

 "Oh, no,” she muttered as she swung her legs around to the floor and stood. "That's what I get for letting her nap so long this afternoon." She wondered if maybe a bottle would soothe her back to sleep. She headed toward the kitchen, praying she had enough milk left. She peaked into the refrigerator, then smiled. 

Rico had restocked everything, and then some. She lifted off the cellophane from a chunk of cheddar cheese and picked off a piece, sending out a silent thank you to him for being so thoughtful. She prepared the bottle and headed toward the bedroom hallway. The baby was quiet now, and she paused to listen, wondering if she’d gone back to sleep on her own. 

"Hi, Ico," she heard her baby say. 

"Hello," came a whisper. "Shh, now."

Gina's eyes opened wide and her heart began to thud. Someone was in the room with Emily. She flattened herself against the wall and stood there, waiting.

"Mama," Emily called to her. "Ico, Mama!" 

Gina's mind was swirling in a million directions. Maybe it was Rico and he’d felt the need to sneak in and check up on them. But she dismissed the idea, knowing full well he would never risk frightening  her like that.

Then, who the hell was in there with her child?

Gina put her knuckle in her mouth and bit down to stop herself from crying out. The closest panic button was in Emily’s room. And there was one in her own bedroom, but she’d have to run to the end of the hallway.  She knew she’d never make it. For almost a full minute, she stood frozen to the spot, praying she’d imagined a stranger whispering. Unable to hold herself back any longer, she tiptoed to the doorway.

What she saw, confirmed her worst fears. Standing in front of her daughter’s crib was a man dressed in dark clothing, a sweatshirt hood pulled over his head. He was broad-shouldered, tall … and, he was holding Emily.

“Hi, Mama,” her little girl said.

Gina blinked once; then her knees began to give way when the man’s head turned and the light from the hallway allowed her to see his face.

“Hello, Mama,” Pedrosa mimicked. “I’ve come to pay you a visit.”

“No, please, Carlos,” she begged. “Please put her down. Don’t hurt her! I’ll do anything you want. I promise! Just don’t hurt my little girl!”

She saw the knife and started to whimper.

“Come here, Gina.”

Terrified, she held back.

“It’s okay. Come here and I will put her back in the crib.”

She entered the room, her eyes glued onto her daughter’s face.

God, no! God, no! God, no!

“Ah, you’ve brought her a bottle. Give it to her, Mama.”

Emily reached for it plugged the nipple into her mouth. Pedrosa placed the child back into the crib and Emily lay down, mercifully oblivious to the danger.

Pedrosa grabbed Gina’s wrist and brought the tip of the knife to the soft underside of her chin. “Be very quiet,” he said. “If you call out, someone might hear you and I don’t want us to be disturbed.” 

She felt the knife’s cold blade press against her neck.  She was trembling so badly, she could barely breathe. 

“Okay, turn around. We’re going to your room, now.” 

He pulled her arm behind her back and pushed her toward the door. 

Castillo
0100

Martin drove by the house just as he did every night, only this time he’d made up his mind to stick around. He knew Gina had asked Rico to go home, and this was her second night alone. It was important to respect her decision, but she didn’t have to know he was there. He would stand watch over the house blending in with the terrain,  just like he’d done in the jungles of Laos and Cambodia. 

His watch told him it was already one am. She was probably asleep by now. Martin parked around the corner and got out, looking up and down the street. He was dressed in black from head to toe. Anyone looking out a window would never have noticed him.

He slipped into the neighbor’s yard behind Gina’s house and scaled the fence, landing without a sound, on the other side. Gina’s yard was dark, and Marty frowned when he noticed the back floodlight was off. He moved along the border of the yard, hugging the fence, his senses keen and alert. When he tried to trigger one of  the sensor lights and nothing happened, he knew it had been dismantled. 

Drawing his gun, he crouched by the cover of the thick bushes and looked over at the house. A light was on in the kitchen. Another tiny beacon seemed to be coming from a source beyond. Perhaps the bathroom.

Martin peered over at the deck and the muscles in his jaw tightened. Leaning against the back wall close to the sliding glass doors, was a man, smoking a cigarette and looking up at the sky. Fascinated, Martin watched as the red glow from the cigarette tip lit up the man’s face.

Roberto Ortíz!

So. If Ortíz was here, Carlos Pedrosa was somewhere nearby. Maybe even in the house…with Gina. And Emily. Ortíz was the lookout, making sure no one came along and interrupted the little party going on inside.Marty prayed to God he wasn’t too late.

He moved toward Ortiz, shrouded from sight by his dark clothing and the poor visibility. He came around the other side of the deck and positioned himself. A single blow left Ortiz crumpled at his feet. He slapped cuffs on the man’s wrists and glanced through the glass sliding doors.

There didn’t seem to be anyone in the family room. He slid the glass door open and slipped into the room. He crept through the kitchen and entered the hall that led to the bedrooms. Now, he felt a sickening dread in the pit of his stomach.

In the past, whenever he faced danger and death, he was able to focus and block out fear. But this time, he had to force himself to move forward. What would he find when he opened the door to Gina’s bedroom? And what about Emily? He had been appointed to a position of honor as her guardian. On the day of Emily’s christening, he had made Sonny a promise. He braced himself and opened the bedroom door.

A small lamp lay on its side. The shade had fallen off, and the glare from the bare bulb, startled him. Sheets and pillows were strewn on the floor and a chair was overturned. Gina was lying on the floor and a large dark figure was kneeling next to her, holding a knife against her neck.

Martin raised his gun. “Police!” he called out. “Get away from her and get face-down on the floor, now!” 

“Put down the gun, Castillo. Or I’ll slit her throat!” 

Martin recognized Carlos Pedrosa. 

The knife was large. All it would take was a sudden slice and she would bleed to death before his eyes. Against his better judgement, he put the gun down on the bureau beside him. He glanced again at the still figure on the floor and saw Gina’s unseeing eyes, staring up at the ceiling. 

“You’re too late,” he heard Pedrosa say. Martin saw the pistol. Pedrosa put the knife back in a sheath on his belt. 

“Let’s go,” he ordered. “Out that door and into the hallway. I have a date with the little one. You can watch, Castillo. Then, it will be your turn.” He withdrew a silencer from his pocket and screwed it on to the end of the pistol. 

His senses heightened, Martin turned his body and kicked hard and high.  The gun flew onto the bed. Pedrosa's reflexes spoke to years of training. His return kick knocked the wind from Martin’s lungs, making him double over, even though he'd braced himself for the blow. His own training helped him recover his balance, and he straightened, in time to feel the blade of a knife slice across his neck.  

 

Rico
0130

It had happened so fast, he never saw it coming. Pain was making it hard to breathe, but his adrenaline level was high. Rico staggered to his feet. 

The moon was shrouded with clouds and the yard was dark. He remembered the floodlight had been on when he arrived. Now, all he could see was a soft light coming from somewhere inside the house.  

“God, Gina,” he moaned. 

Clenching his teeth, he tried to straighten up. Determined to get to the house, he began to put one foot in front of the other. 

He looked up. He could see a light on in the kitchen, but the deck seemed miles away. It would take him forever to get there. And he knew he didn’t have forever. 

He leaned against the side of the house and put his hand against the stab wound on his side. It was wet. Taking a deep breath, he headed for a window. It was a casement window, low and accessible without a ladder. He approached it with caution, drawing his gun in case. He put his face against the glass and took in a scene that almost made his heart stop. 

Gina was lying on her back on the floor.  Her eyes were wide open, but he could tell she wasn’t focusing on anything. In the background, two figures were twirling and side-stepping, like dancers on a stage. It was hard to see who they were, but he was certain one of them was Pedrosa. 

He took his gun and swung his arm high. The glass was reinforced but not strong enough to withstand the blow. He heard it shatter. 

 

Castillo

He didn’t feel pain, just a sense of release, as if the tendons in his neck were letting go. His survival instinct took over and he raised up his arm to protect himself from another cut. Pedrosa was preparing to strike again, when the sound of shattering glass exploded behind them. 

A bloodied face, with eyes full of fury, stared back at them from the broken bedroom window.  Ricardo Tubbs raised his pistol. 

“Payback time, you bastard,” he said. “This is for Sonny!” The pistol bucked in his hand, twice. Even though the deafening roar of gunfire made his ears vibrate with waves of pain, Castillo, remembered thinking it was one of the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard. 

The big man gasped and crashed against the bureau, sending delicate bottles of perfume and makeup flying in all directions. His expression was disbelieving; his eyes wide with unfamiliar fear. He glanced at Castillo for a moment, then his head lolled to the side, and his lifeless body fell to the floor.

Martin kicked the knife away before he looked up at Rico for a split second. Then, both men ran over to Gina. 

She was so pale, so still. Martin could see the marks on her neck, and he knew Pedrosa had tried to strangle her. He picked her up in his arms and placed his mouth over hers, desperate to breathe life back into her body. 

“Gina!” he called to her through clenched teeth. He shook her by the shoulders and then pinched her nose with his fingers, bending down to breath into her mouth again.

She coughed. Her hands went to her throat and her eyes bulged as she struggled to breathe. He could hear a sharp whistling sound and feared her windpipe had been crushed. Tubbs was on the phone, calling for an ambulance, but if her airway was compromised, it would never come in time. 

She was frantic now, trying to push him away. 

“Gina,  I know you’re frightened. Don’t fight me. I’m trying to help you.” He grabbed her hands and was about to try to breath for her again when he heard a little sigh. She coughed once more, there was another sigh and then, a sharp intake of air. Her body started to relax and gradually, the pinkness in her cheeks returned. 

At first, she seemed confused, bewildered. Then, she gave him a weak smile. “Lieutenant?” Her voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

Martin held her against him and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Thank God,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “Thank God!” She reached up and touched his cheek. “Thank you, Martin,” she said.

Castillo glanced at Rico and noticed the red stain spreading on the side of his shirt. Then, the detective swayed and sat down hard on the bed.

“You’re hurt.” 

“Yeah,” he said, looking down at himself. “It’s not too bad. I’ll live, I guess. What about you? That’s a nasty gash on your neck.

“It’s worse than it looks. I was lucky.”

“Emily!” Gina rasped,  her eyes widening with fear.

“I’ll get her, Gina.” 

Holding his hand against his side, Tubbs stumbled to the door and out into the hallway.

“Oh, no, God, please no!” she begged, gripping Castillo’s arm and trying to sit up.

Rico returned with the little girl in his arms. With a sob of relief, Gina fell back against Martin’s chest.  “Thank you.” she murmured, closing her eyes.

“Ico, Mama! Ico,” they heard the little girl say.

Rico smiled and hugged her close. 

“I’m here, baby,” he said. “I’m here.”

Chapter 39: The Lure of Easy Money
July 31st, 1995: Little Havana 
 

Roberto Ortíz

Roberto lay on his side, watching the digital clock on the bedside table as it silently announced the time. Angela was naked and curled up against him. Any other time, he would have reached for her, but the memory of last night’s disaster left him shaking with fury.  

Pedrosa wouldn’t listen. Everyone knew Castillo would hunt for Crockett’s killers with a vengeance. And Castillo knew exactly how to lure Pedrosa back from the safety of the open seas! 

Dangle Crockett’s wife in front of his nose.  

And like a moth to the flame, the bloodthirsty fool fell for it. Now, he was dead, and Ortiz was left behind, taking the blame. 

A bright orange flash from the clock radio caught his eye. A new number had clicked into place. 

7:05 …  

He rubbed his wrists. They were still sore from the bite of Castillo’s cuffs. He remembered Cortez yanking him to his feet and carrying him off on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. If the big lug hadn’t rescued him, Roberto Ortiz would have ended up in the Metro Dade lock up. 

And then, what? A lengthy trial? A death-sentence? A shank shoved in his back in a crowded prison-yard …

Another bright flash. Another click. 

7:35 

He sat up and grabbing the phone next to the bed, punched in a number he knew by heart. 

“Tell Castaneda I want to see him!” he growled into the receiver. He was surprised when Hector himself came to the phone. 

“Well, well! Roberto!! How are you doing? Recovering nicely, I hope.

Ortiz couldn’t believe Hector had already found out about the botched attack. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. I need to speak to you. In person.”

Another surprise! Hector seemed delighted. After a few minutes of bickering about a meeting place, they agreed on Castaneda’s café in Little Havana. 

He hung up the phone. 

Click: 8:00  

Roberto cringed. He wanted to pull  his pistol off the table and blast the clock’s electronic screen to smithereens! 

Angela was still in a deep sleep, lying on her back and snoring lightly. A pink satin sheet barely covered her. He considered yanking it off and waking her with his own nakedness, but he knew that pleasure would have to wait for another time. He poked her shoulder with an impatient finger.

“Get dressed. Now. We’re going out.”

***

A young waitress escorted Roberto and Angela to a private room and closed the door. Ortiz heard Castaneda shout a greeting to someone in the main dining room. 

“I’ll join you later,” he heard the man bellow.  “Roberto is waiting to see me! Have a drink, on the house! Anita, see to it, please. Yes, yes, you’re welcome. I have to go now; enjoy your meal!”

“Please, Hector.” Roberto said when Castaneda entered the room.  “Don’t broadcast to the world I’m still in Miami!”

Hector shrugged. “What are you worrying about. I own this place. Everyone here is family. You are family. In this establishment, you are safer than anywhere in the city.”

Roberto looked back at the old man. “If you say so, Hector.”

Nodding a greeting to Angela, Hector took a seat on the other side of the table.

“Shame about Carlos,” he began, glancing up at Roberto with a sly smile.

“Yes, it is.”

“So. I was able to get his yacht away in time. It’s moored in a secluded cove near here. I’ll change the name, make a few minor structural improvements. When I’m finished with it, Pedrosa himself wouldn’t recognize it.”

“What about his money?” Roberto asked, wondering if Hector was going to be honest.

“Carlos was smart. Most of it is hidden in a bank account in the Caymans. The rest, he kept in a special safe behind the cabinets on his yacht. It’s put away for safekeeping. Believe me, I’m no fool. The cartel leadership will be asking, and I can’t touch a cent.” 

He looked over at Roberto. “Why should this matter to you?”

“I was Pedrosa’s successor. I need to know about this if I’m going to take his place.”

Castaneda laughed. “You? Are you crazy? You’re a hunted man! No one will come near you!”

“You did.”

The same waitress who took care of them earlier, came into the room. 

“I want some tequila, Anita,” Castaneda  told her. “And you can leave the bottle here with me.”

She gave him a sweet smile.

“Ah, yes. It is wonderful owning your own place,” he said after she left. “You never have to worry about the rules of the house!” 

“So, will you help me?” Roberto asked. He could feel a knot of anxiety, twisting in his stomach.

“Maybe. What's in it for me?”

“A share in the profits? A chance to stop being a pimp for little children.”

Castaneda scowled. “Watch what you say! I put food on the table for those boys. I am the only parent some of them will ever know.”

“You’re protecting them, I know. I understand. But right now, I'm the one who needs protection. I need you to vouch for me. Let them know in Cali that once the heat is off, I can be very useful.” 

“So, you think I’m the one to help you? Even though I let Pedrosa down? He was not happy with the way I handled Crockett.”

“Hunting down an American cop was a fool’s errand!” 

Anita brought in the tequila and a glass of wine for Angela.

“Thank you, my dear,” Hector told the waitress. “We’ll order later. Right now, we have business to discuss.”

“But I want to eat!’ Angela whined.   

“Anita will bring bread in a minute,” Hector told her in a soothing voice. Angela sat back in her chair and pouted. 

“It’s true what they say about him,” Roberto thought. “He certainly knows how to handle the very young.”

Hector was pouring the tequila into two shot glasses, but when he offered one to Roberto, the young man politely refused. Castaneda shrugged. He tilted his head back and drained his glass. 

“Ah. So good,” he sighed. “You should drink up! Enjoy life while you can. Time is running out. Faster than you think.”

Roberto's pulse quickened. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Did you really think the Cartel de Cali would embrace you after what has happened?”

“I was hoping my ambitions and loyalty to Pedrosa would speak for itself.”

“That’s the problem, Roberto. Killing this cop was bad for business. Pedrosa didn’t care about the cartel’s business. All he cared about was destroying a man who made him look small. You went along with Pedrosa without weighing the consequences. The men above me are disappointed. I’m afraid they have no use for you now.”

As the meaning of the words began to sink in, Roberto gave a nervous glance over his shoulder.  Filipe Cortez, and another heavy-set man, stood by the back door leading to the kitchen. 

Hector grinned. “Have a farewell drink with me,” he said.  He raised his glass in a mock salute.

Ortiz stared down at the shot glass in front of him. “Hector, please. I’ll serve you instead, if it makes things right between us.”

“I have no hard feelings toward you. I even like you! But this is business … and the decision is final, I’m afraid.”

Someone came up behind him. He could smell a stench of strong body odor mixed with the acrid aroma of cheap cigars. 

“I don’t think he wants his tequila,” Castaneda said, smiling up at Cortez. He pulled the glass over for himself. “He’s ready to go. And take the whore, too.” 

The two men pulled Roberto up from his seat. He felt the barrel of a pistol dig into his side.  Angela mewled in terror when someone grabbed her by her hair. They patted him down and tossed his own pistol on the table in front of Castaneda. 

Now his panic was replaced with rage. He should have known his blind allegiance to Pedrosa would prove his leadership skills were lacking. After this, the cartel would never accept him as a boss in a drug-infested Miami. But, worst of all, he’d been foolish enough to trust Castaneda! He should have recognized the contempt in the old man’s tone when they spoke earlier on the phone. Maybe if he’d kept his pride in check, he could have slipped away with Angela and blended in with the hordes of Hispanic immigrants living in Texas, or, maybe even California. Instead, he hung around, convinced they'd be swayed by his talent. 

He could hear Angela’s muffled screams when they gagged her.  Her eyes were wide with fear. Seeing her that way made him sad. 

“I’m sorry,” he thought. “You don’t deserve this.”

A rag was stuffed in his mouth and they pulled his arms behind his back and tied them together. They dragged them through the kitchen and out into an open van, waiting by the restaurant's delivery ramp. Cortez and his partner climbed aboard and shut the doors. The engine roared to life. 

They rode for several hours. Roberto was starting to smell the scent of rotting vegetation and knew they were somewhere in the Glades. The van was hot and stuffy. Heavy, wet air pressed down all around him. It struck him as ironic he would soon die in a jungle. One of the reasons he left his homeland, was the fear he’d suffer the same fate. Perhaps he should have stayed where he was and taken his chances.

The van slowed and came to a stop. The engine was turned off and he heard a clicking sound as it cooled. Roberto watched them put the pistol against Angela’s head and heard it cough twice. Her body jerked. Then, Cortez turn toward him. 

Roberto looked into the eyes of a man he’d always considered beneath him; a brute who had trouble stringing two sentences together. Now, this brute would be his executioner. 

Filipe Cortez smiled as if he had heard the young man’s thoughts. Roberto’s heart lurched and he squeezed his eyes shut, just as the pistol popped and a bullet sliced cleanly through his brain. 

Edited April 5, 2021 by mjcmmv

[vicegirl85]

Another chapter I could picture happening from your writing!  Glad the bad guys had a strong encounter with karma, although I'm still worried about the safety of Gina and Emily!

[mjcmmv]

Just now, vicegirl85 said:

Another chapter I could picture happening from your writing!  Glad the bad guys had a strong encounter with karma, although I'm still worried about the safety of Gina and Emily!

Happy I was able to present it clearly.

Revenge is sweet!

[sdiegolo78]

On 8/26/2019 at 10:37 PM, mjcmmv said:

His senses heightened, Martin turned his body and kicked hard and high.  The gun flew onto the bed. Pedrosa's reflexes spoke to years of training. His return kick knocked the wind from Martin’s lungs, making him double over, even though he'd braced himself for the blow. His own training helped him recover his balance, and he straightened, in time to feel the blade of a knife slice across his neck.  

Pedrosa was some SOB! With that knife I'd imagine he was a more dangerous opponent than the muythai fighters from 'the gold triangle'.

On 8/26/2019 at 10:37 PM, mjcmmv said:

A bloodied face, with eyes full of fury, stared back at them from the broken bedroom window.  Ricardo Tubbs raised his pistol. 

“Payback time, you bastard,” he said. “This is for Sonny!” The pistol bucked in his hand, twice. Even though the deafening roar of gunfire made his ears vibrate with waves of pain, Castillo, remembered thinking it was one of the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard. 

The big man gasped and crashed against the bureau, sending delicate bottles of perfume and makeup flying in all directions. His expression was disbelieving; his eyes wide with unfamiliar fear. He glanced at Castillo for a moment, then his head lolled to the side, and his lifeless body fell to the floor.

I was hoping for a Tubbs comeback with a vengeance a la Die Hard! Best fan fiction passage I've ever read! Man, had this ever been made as MV reunion/sequel, i'd have screamed at my TV! Perhaps Castillo would eventually have had the upper had on Pedrosa but it was GREAT to get Tubbs back for the final shot! . I felt he was the one to actually take down Pedrosa....he was Sonny's partner after all, what better man for the job!

On 8/26/2019 at 10:37 PM, mjcmmv said:

Roberto looked into the eyes of a man he’d always considered beneath him; a brute who had trouble stringing two sentences together. Now, this brute would be his executioner. 

Filipe Cortez smiled as if he had heard the young man’s thoughts. Roberto’s heart lurched and he squeezed his eyes shut, just as the pistol popped and a bullet sliced cleanly through his brain. 

good riddance! now the old bastard Castaneda left....

[mjcmmv]

Your comments made this fun for me all over again. Thanks! 

[sdiegolo78]

2 hours ago, mjcmmv said:

Your comments made this fun for me all over again. Thanks! 

Reading your work evoked emotions as if I was watching the real thing. And that means it was well done, even if it was just a written fan fiction story.

Edited April 4, 2021 by sdiegolo78

[mjcmmv]

1 hour ago, sdiegolo78 said:

Reading your work evoked emotions as if I was watching the real thing. And that means it was well done, even if it was just a written fan fiction story.

I appreciate that. Thank you!