Page 6 of Pirate's Plunder

The fucker has his feet kicked up on the desk and is picking his nails with one of his blades like he could care less about this whole conversation. I bet he’s counting down the minutes before he can sneak outside to smoke the joint he’s got tucked behind his ear.

If his farm didn’t bring in so much cash, I’d shut him down in a heartbeat.

“What Pirates do best,” I smirk as a few of them laugh at me.

“Pirates are known to plunder, pillage, and rape.” Padre frowns as he speaks the words and I wonder how many Hail Mary’s he’s going to give himself for being a fucking hypocrite.

“It ain’t rape if she begs me for it.” I knock my knuckles on the table, ending Church to the crew, chuckling at my words.

Padre stares at me, unconvinced.

“Max, you know me, I won’t hurt her.” At that, he laughs at me.

“You think I’m worried about her? Primo, it’s your soul I’m trying to save.” He shakes his head, finally leaving the room to me and Knight.

“You really believe he’s alive.” I grind my molars.

I’ve been keeping tabs on Marco’s activities for years. Everyone thought I was nuts, but every killer has a tell. A signature that, if you look close enough, is signed on every single kill.

“Marco is an assassin. He’s been doing this since before we were both born. I’m positive he’s alive. I’d bet my life on it.” Knight stands slowly and walks over to me, grabbing my shoulder with a little shake.

“I’ll let Padre pray on it. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.” One quick pat on the back and I’m alone with the Tools he selected for my little recon job.

“Sprocket, Flathead, did Knight give you any instructions?” Both men stare at their feet as I approach them.

“Asked you a question Tools. I expect a fucking response.” I crouch down to their level and stare them down one at a time.

“No, Prez.” I nod at Sprocket for having a pair of balls.

It’s never easy speaking first and I can appreciate how scared these fuckers are of me. I’m not known for having a great temper.

“You are to find a woman by the name of Genesis. Her last name is debatable. She has a rose tattoo on her neck behind her ear. Blonde hair, green eyes and killer tits. You follow, you observe, and if anyone comes sniffing around her, you call Knight. I want to know her daily schedule and who she hangs out with.” I stand and motion for them to follow.

“I want a report every three hours. She isn’t to leave your sight until I say so.” Sprocket nods, but Flathead scratches his chin and frowns.

“You got something to say?” I cross my arms and wait.

He earned his nickname for asking stupid questions. Wizard asked him if his mama dropped him on his head and the shit stuck.

“What if I gotta piss?” I swore under my breath, already knowing he’d be one of the prospects I cut this round, but did the kid have to make it so fucking easy?

“Take a bottle or wear a fucking diaper. If you lose her, I won’t be happy.” Flathead swallows hard, and I wave them off.

Once the room is empty, I sit back down and remove my eye patch. The strap digs in and causes me headaches, so I have to remove it every few hours to relieve the pressure.

I’m rubbing my temples when Spector rushes in without knocking.

“Prez, I - shit. My bad.” I grunt and put the patch back on before looking up at him.

“What you got for me?” I watch him study the laptop, and some days I truly believe it’s attached to his left hand.

“Video of Alfonso’s house. I’m trying to clean it up but man you were fucking right.” He places the computer in front of me and hits a few buttons.

As I watch the black-and-white image that fills the screen, it clears up enough to show Marco Santos’ mean mug staring right at the screen.

“We owe you an apology, Prez. All these years you never fucking doubted he was alive.” I nod but keep my thoughts to myself.

I’m used to being doubted.

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