Page 5 of Knight's Journey

Black waited several minutes longer, wanting to draw out the anticipation of those watching. The more unnerved he made them, the more he gained the upper hand. That’s what he needed going into this meet. No one would have his back inside, and he had no clue as to what he was about to walk into.

Squaring his shoulders, he finally stepped from the truck. The skin on the back of his neck prickled from the eyes watching him. He rounded the front of his truck and paused. He turned and scanned the buildings behind him until he saw a faint glimmer of something reflecting in a window. His eyes trained on the spot for two beats, a silent message to the ones standing guard. He knew they were there, and he wasn’t afraid.

Jogging across the street, he slowed when he neared the warehouse. His instructions were to go to the rear entrance. He noted the front roll-up doors were padlocked, so he rounded the corner to the alley leading to the back. The alley was deserted, the night was still. Hearing nothing put him more on edge than hearing any bumps in the night. He saw a side door, which was also padlocked. No wonder they told him to come to the back. Every other entrance or exit he’d seen were not options.

His steps slowed the closer he got to the back, and he unconsciously reached at his side for the weapon he didn’t carry. The De la Peñas had a hard and fast rule that no one in their presence carried weapons outside of their own enforcers, and Black wasn’t considered one of those. He’d had to resort to an ankle holster to hold his Sig Sauer inside his boot and to a hope they wouldn’t search him when he went inside.

He turned the corner at the end of the alley and drew up short when he came face-to-face with the only two people the De la Peñas trusted who didn’t carry the family name. Black knew them as Thumper and Singer. The men trusted no one, including Black, but the lack of trust went both ways. The two enforcers raised his danger radar exponentially anytime they were close.

“Where’ve you been?” Thumper mumbled. Tall as he was big around, the man had a unique accent that made his words seemed slurred. A conversation with him wasn’t easy, and it had taken Black the full part of the year to decipher his speech.

“What do you mean? I’m early. Are we going inside or what?”

“Not yet.” Singer’s voice sounded like he’d been gargling asphalt his whole life, and it grated on Black’s nerves. Tall and lanky, the man seemed like a strong breeze could tip him over. But Black knew he was shrewd and dangerous. Each time he regarded Black with his beady eyes and hard expression, Black felt his guard raise a notch, and he had to fight the urge to reach for his gun.

“Relax.” Thumper blocked Black’s path toward the door. “The boss said to wait here, so we wait here.”

Black stared over Thumper’s shoulder to hold Singer’s stare until the man turned back to his post in front of the back door. He moved to put some distance between him and the two enforcers, the prickling at the back of his neck getting worse. Since his eyes were accustomed to the dark, Black did a quick scan of his surroundings, noting only a dumpster and a couple of rats, but nothing else. No cars. No people who could possibly be customers. Nothing appeared like any of the other meets he’d observed.

He started tapping a finger against his thigh, like he was mimicking the drum beat of a rock song. He paced the length of the back lot as he silently debated whether he would wait them out or cut his losses and leave.

His gut was churning. Something was off.

He shifted the direction of his steps to head back down the alley. “No one’s covering the front. I’m gonna check it out, make sure nothing’s here to compromise the meet.”

Singer blocked his path again, so close this time Black could smell the man’s foul breath. “We’ve got people watching the front. The boss wants you here.”

“So what are we doing out here if there are people watching already?”

“Hey, man, haven’t you learned by now to not ask questions,” Thumper spoke up before Singer could snap at him. “It’s better to just follow orders.”

Black fell quiet. He thought he was here as back-up for a meet with customers wanting to buy some firepower. For him to be stuck outside instead of at the meet wasn’t a good sign.

Someone tapped on the back door from the inside, and Singer reached behind to open it. Singer led the way inside, and Thumper motioned for Black to follow, a curious move. If they didn’t trust him, then why have him come in behind them, putting themselves in a vulnerable position? Nothing was adding up, and it increased his unease.

He moved with measured steps. Stacks of crates crowded the warehouse, creating a maze with lots of blind spots ideal for an ambush. Nothing on the crates indicated what was inside, but from what he’d observed being in the De la Peña organization, he guessed it was a combination of guns and drugs hidden among legitimate merchandise. As he followed Thumper and Singer further into the warehouse, he could hear voices, men speaking in measured tones loud enough to carry in the open space but not with enough clarity to understand their words.

When he finally reached the end of the line of crates, he drew up short. Armando De la Peña shook hands with three men in suits. Two of them carried duffle bags big enough to contain assault rifles. The third handed a briefcase over to Armando, and the three suits turned to disappear among the crates. Black had two very clear realizations in that moment. One, there had to be another exit somewhere he had missed since he didn’t figure the clients were going to wait in another part of the warehouse. Two, the meet was done, and he’d been purposely kept from it. It had to be a substantial buy for both Armando and Elian to be present to close the deal. Armando typically let Elian handle the more routine buys, thereby keeping his hands as clean as possible should a meet go wrong.

Black noted the presence of more enforcers, but they weren’t up high enough in the organization for him to learn their names. He focused more on Armando and Elian. Thumper and Singer joined the bosses, leaving him standing alone to face them all. The air around him buzzed with an instant rise in tension.

He hadn’t been invited here for a meet. He’d been invited to his own execution.

“Smoke show,” he murmured, setting his stance. If they came after him, he’d be ready to fight to the death. He needed to hold them off for a short time until the cavalry arrived. And he hoped they arrived before this crime family took him out.

Well, they’d likely torture him first— not for any kind of information he may have but strictly for the hell of it. Then, once they were satisfied he’d suffered enough, they’d kill him.

Black schooled his reaction so all Armando, Elian and the enforcers saw was someone cool and stoic, watching them closely but with a quiet reserve.

Elian flashed a menacing grin, his pearly white veneers almost sparkling against his olive skin. He moved until he was within arm’s reach of Black. He drew in a deep breath and released it with a loud exhale.

“This day is turning out to be better than I expected. Don’t you agree, Papa?” Though he spoke to Armando, his eyes remained focused on Black.

“That remains to be seen.” Armando’s voice was cultured with a heavy accent giving evidence of his heritage. His eyes pierced Black with a direct gaze. “You were early tonight. Why didn’t you make yourself known when you arrived?”

Black shrugged. “Just thought I’d wait in my truck until time for the meet. But the meet apparently was moved up, so I waited for nothing.”

Armando regarded him silently. Though Elian was invading his space, Black kept his gaze on the senior De la Peña. His gut told him nothing would happen unless Armando called for it, so maybe he still had a chance to save his hide if he could show the elder De la Peña he’d done nothing to betray the family.

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