Page 86 of Cartel King

Chapter Seventeen

Enrique

I’m in the middle row of the SUV Jorge’s driving. Alejandro’s in the front passenger seat, and Joaquin is beside me. Javier is driving the second SUV with Luis and Pablo. I rarely ride in vehicles or fly in planes with Pablo. It’s too great a risk to the organization and the family. Thinking about my nephew reminds me I need to explain to him that Ellie and I won’t have children. I need to assure Jorge she won’t tally the books over his shoulder. I know that’s part of why both of them were chilly toward her.

Ellie handled herself beautifully until the part about her walking away. If we’d been alone, my hand and her ass would’ve had their own conversation. I’ll address it when I go to her house after this is done. Nothing in the past tempted me to text a woman to say goodbye a second time. I want confirmation she got home safely. I also don’t want to draw out the agony.

Me

Are you at her house?

Diego

Yes. Her son arrived fifteen minutes ago. Her dog watered every flowerbed in her yard.

Me

Anything unusual?

Diego

No

Me

Leave a message or send a text even if my phone’s off.

If we have to go to our bodega, then we’ll shut our phones off. We don’t keep our location services on anyway, but it’s an extra precaution against any calls or text being traced. We shut our personal and vehicle electronics down five miles from the store. The other syndicate families do the same thing when they head to their place.

Every family has a location they completely control. It’s where we conduct the dirtier side of our business. It’s somewhere no one can hear what’s happening inside. It’s where we can take our time with anyone who refuses to be forthcoming. It’s where we punish, then dispose of bodies in a furnace or a vat of acid.

Diego

Will do

“Tío?”

I hear Pablo through my earpiece. We’re all wearing our radios. Luis doesn’t live too far from me, so we went to his house to get ready and strategize. We didn’t want to do it near the women, and Luis didn’t have his things with him. Javier grabbed my go bag from the hall closet while I said goodbye to Ellie.

We’re all in our black utility pants, black turtlenecks, and black boots. We’ll put our bulletproof vests on and pull down our balaclavas before we arrive, but both drivers already have their vests and helmets on. Our windows are barely street legal, so the tinting’s dark enough we don’t worry about other drivers wondering why ours look the way they do.

“Sí.”

Pablo continues in Spanish. It’sTres J’s, Luis’s, and my first language, but Alejandro and Pablo grew up interchanging it with English as toddlers. We lapse in and out of either language without thought, often in the same conversation.

“My CI says Pasha already broke into the furniture warehouse and took what he wants. He torched the rest.”

“Fine.”

There’s often more in the upholstery than just stuffing, but we smuggled nothing that’s in the warehouse right now. It’s all legit, so I’ll file an insurance claim and be done with it. That’s assuming Seamus O’Rourke’s wife doesn’t spot it and decide she’ll be the adjustor for it. She did that six months ago. Slowed down a construction site for eight weeks.

We’re two blocks from our industrial park with our furniture warehouses. Technically, it’s Catalina’s warehouse since she’s an interior designer, but that’s a useful front that’s not much of a secret among the Four Families. That’s why Pasha Kutsenko went after it. He thought he’d steal some product from us, then leave nothing left we could profit from.

We pull up and can see our men working to put the fire out. It’s not as bad as I feared. There’s plenty that’s still salvageable. I walk over to the warehouse manager.

“What happened?”

“The bratva. We lost two of our men, but fortunately most of the guys were already off the clock. They came back as soon as I made the calls.”

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