Special Forces - 10. Chapter 10

Sam shot out the light over Aguilar’s warehouse entry door with his silenced Glock 9mm just as the man stepped out. He was shocked by the sudden darkness and rain of glass and quickly stepped back into the open doorway. Sandy reached the entry in time to stop the door from closing and shoved Aguilar hard into the building. Sam reached the door seconds later and they let it close and lock behind them. Both men had guns drawn and wore stocking masks.

“Who the fuck are you?” yelled Aguilar.

“Your worst enemy, asshole,” said Sandy.

“Fuck you. There’s no money here, so the joke’s on you two assholes.”

“We’re not looking for money,” said Sam. “We’re looking for information. Why don’t we take this little party into your office?”

“I don’t no nothin’ about nothin’ so you’re wasting your time.”

Sandy shoved Aguilar further into the building. “Where’s your office?”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“No, not if you cooperate,” said Sam.

Aguilar entered what appeared to be the only office in the cavernous space.

“Sit there,” ordered Sam, pointing to one of the visitor’s chairs.

Sam sat in the other visitor’s chair and Sandy took the chair behind the desk.

Aguilar was red faced. There was sweat beading on his forehead, and he was breathing rapidly. He eyed the guns and the big KA-BAR knife strapped to Sam’s leg.

For Sam, the man’s nervousness was a good sign. He was already off balance, and off balance men sometimes talked even when they didn’t want to, or mean to.

“We’re looking into the murders of at least four girls. They were all illegals. The sort of girls you have working for you. Know anything about that?”

“I don’t have no illegal girls working for me. I run a legitimate janitorial company. All my workers are legal!”

Mr. Aguilar, Enrico, may I call you Enrico? We know all about your little operation here. You hire out people and keep their almost all their wages. You indenture them for five years. After that you cut them loose with a phony Green Card. You keep them in line with threats and intimidation. How am I doing so far?”

Aguilar remained silent shooting dagger looks at Sam and Sandy.

“We don’t like what you do, Enrico, but that’s not why we’re here. We think you might be able to provide us with information—point us in the right direction, so to speak—about who might be murdering these girls. It’s some sicko who gets his jollies from beating women to death. Know any good candidates, Enrico?”

“How the fuck should I know?”

“How about Rosalee and Arnando?” Sam asked.

Aguilar’s florid complexion suddenly paled. “You wouldn’t!”

“Oh, I very much would,” said Sam. “After all, you have no qualms about hurting your employees or their families, do you?”

Aguilar slumped; his corpulent body seemed to deflate with resignation. “I got a contractor. A guy I use to help out in certain situations. I only know his name as Davo. He’s a shadow. I’ve never even met him. He’s a guy from the Syndicate.”

“How do you contact him?”

“I leave a message at a bar called Papa Jake’s. We use burner phones. He calls me back and gives me a one-time email address. Then I send an encrypted file to him.”

There were a few moments of silence after that while the guys pondered Aguilar’s answers.

Sandy asked, “So this guy acts like a bounty hunter as well? Chases down employees who run off?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“How does he get paid?” asked Sam.

“I get an invoice from a random company. I pay the bill through my lawn care company.”

“One more question,” said Sam. “Which syndicate is running this territory now?”

“That’s no fuckin’ secret. Every gamberro on the street knows that. It’s the Solanetti family out of Toronto. They bought the territory from the Castrogiovanni family a couple of years ago.”

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do,” said Sandy. “Get a message to Davo and tell him you’ve got a situation that needs to be dealt with. Tell him you’re going to drop off a renegade employee who needs a little motivation behind the Amvet thrift store, just off the Pac Highway. Make it for next Wednesday at midnight.”

“You guys are gonna get me killed!”

“One thing we can promise you, Enrico, is that if this Davo guy is our killer, then you’ll never hear from him again. There’ll be no blowback, if you get my meaning. But Rosalee and Arnando will sleep safe.”

Sam and Sandy made their exit telling Aguilar to wait five minutes before leaving.

As they drove away, Sandy asked, “What just happened back there?”

“Well, my read on Aguilar was that he wasn’t all that concerned we’d hurt his kids. He had us pegged for softies. But I do believe that he sees this Davo guy as a problem. He knows the guy is out of control, and probably the killer. And the killings could hurt Aguilar’s business. So he’s hoping we’ll solve his problem for him. Otherwise he’s got to approach his bosses, the Solanetti family, and he’s naturally reluctant to do that.”

“Yeah, that was my general feeling too,” said Sandy. “The tricky part will be to determine whether or not this Davo guy is our perp.

“And did you notice that the territory was sold to the Solanettis? Christ almighty, it’s like corporate takeovers and amalgamations. Or maybe like sports trading. You give me Aguilar’s San Diego operation and I’ll give you New Orleans hookers in return.”

“Or like the Louisiana or Alaska purchases,” added Sam. “So much easier to buy the territory than to go to war over it.”

“We live in a crazy world, Kozy.”

“That we do, Sandy, that we do.”

**********************

When Nick asked, Sam told him the outline of what he and Sandy were doing.

“So you’re going to meet this guy, this psychopath, in a dark, lonely spot. Is that what I’m hearing, Sam?”

“Nick, don’t worry, okay? I’ve been in situations that would make your hair curl. This is a walk in the park.”

“Okay, Sam, I trust you. But if you get yourself killed I’m going to be really pissed off! I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Fair enough, Nicky.”

*****************

At dusk on Wednesday, Sam dropped Sandy off so he could take up a sniper position on the rear roof of the Amvet building. From there he had a clear view of the rendezvous spot.

At 11:30pm he radioed Sam to let him know that the ground was clear. No tangos hiding.

At 5 minutes before midnight Sam pulled into what was essentially a pullout from the access road behind the Amvet store. Cars roared along the elevated Pac Highway above and occasionally pulled off on the exit ramp which also ran nearly overhead of Sam’s location. In the back seat of Sam’s truck was a blow-up doll with a black wig. The decoy.

Minutes later a nondescript Ford pulled into the spot. The driver cautiously climbed out brandishing a Sig Sauer P220.

Sam was brandishing his own Glock 9mm.

“The bitch is in the truck,” said Sam.

The guy promptly shot Sam in the chest.

Sam went flying backwards knocking his head on the ground, momentarily stunned. His Glock flew out of this hand landing just out of reach. The pain in his chest was nearly unbearable.

Sandy fired at the shooter and hit him in him in the right arm. The force of the shot spun him around and he tumbled awkwardly but managed to hold on to the Sig Sauer in his left hand.

He catwalked over to Sam, but stayed well out of his reach, but close enough that his aim would be true. He pointed the gun at Sam’s head. “Cocksucker! Tell your friend up there to hold his fire!”

“Fuck!” groaned Sam. “Fuck you. You’re gonna die!”

“No you prick, you’re going to die. Tell me who you work for and I’ll kill you quick. If I have to ask again you’ll die a very painful, prolonged death. If that chest wound doesn’t kill you, I’ll shoot your nuts off, then I’ll put a round in your gut. You’ll die slow, but you’ll suffer a lot.” Turning towards Sandy’s position he yelled, “Hold your fire or I’ll kill your friend! You come near me and I’ll put a bullet in his brain!”

Sam recognized the shooter’s voice, and his stomach churned. Sam thought bitterly, I’m going to die from my own stupidity at the hands of Nick’s old lover. Where the bloody hell is Sandy? Why hasn’t he taken another shot? Then his thoughts flashed on Nick and Jorge, and he felt deep remorse over what his senseless death would do to them and the irony of being killed by a guy he had allowed to live up in Montreal. Should have killed the fucker like I wanted to!

Sam then realized that Sandy couldn’t get off another shot with the rifle because he, the shooter, and Sandy were lined up. If Sandy shot now the bullet would pass through the guy and probably hit Sam too. What he needed to do most was stall for time. Give Sandy a chance to circle around for another shot.

“You killed those girls, you fucker!”

“Yeah, maybe I got a little carried away. But it’s no big deal, right? Not like they had names or anything. Just fuckin Maria. Christ, they’re all Maria. You’d think they’d come up with something original, eh?” He chuckled at his own joke. “You know, you gotta send a message when these bitches get out of hand. And I’m going to tell you a little secret, dude. I enjoyed it. Fuck man, I got the biggest hardon beating the shit out of those cunts. Better than drugs man.”

Sam stalled for time. “Listen, I’ll answer your question—tell you who I work for—if you answer one of mine. Then you can kill me clean. I don’t want to suffer.”

“Fair enough, what’s your question? No guarantee I got an answer though.”

“There was a girl. With a little boy. She got hit hard. Did you do that?”

“Yeah, that’s easy. She was a runner. Caught up with her downtown. Got her in an alley. Pushed the kid down then swung the bat at her. Got in a pretty good hit. But then some fuckin’ college frat kids or something started walking past the end of the alley. Must have been fifty of the fuckers. So I hid behind a garbage bin, and the bitch grabbed the kid and took off. Don’t think the college kids saw her go out of the other end of the alley, but I had to wait a few minutes until the fuckin’ fraternity crowd disappeared. I tried to follow her, but there were too many people on the street. Thought the cunt might scream or something. Figured I’d find her again. Never did though. Pissed me off. I could have got thirty or forty grand for that kid on the black market. Kiddy porn, man, big money.

“Now it’s your turn, mon ami. I’m gonna count to three, and by the time I get to three you’ll tell me who you work for or I’ll shoot you in the nuts. One........two........

BANG! The guy’s head exploded. Brain and skull fragments creating a red mist that hung for a moment before dropping to the ground like hell’s idea of rain.

“Sandy! Thank Christ!”

The dark suited shooter dropped to his knees. “It’s not Sandy.”

“Nick! Jesus Mother of God! What are you doing here?”

“Saving your sorry ass, evidently. I can’t believe I just killed Tony. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. The Kevlar stopped the first bullet. And thanks to you. But....what...?”

“Jesus, Sam, you and Sandy run off to carry out some half-baked plan. I had a premonition things were going to go bad tonight. So I drove over to keep an eye on things. Good thing I did from the looks of it. And good thing you gave me the combination to your gun safe.”

Just then Sandy came slowly limping—hopping—into the parking area. “Fuck, I’m sorry! I jumped off the roof to get over here, and my foot hit a block of cement. My ankle’s broken. That’s why it took me so long to work my way around. Good thing you were here, Nick. Sounds like Sam nearly had his balls shot off. Woulda had to start calling him Samantha.”

Sandy’s humorous remark broke the tension and the three guys cracked up laughing. Just when their laughter would settle down Sandy would say, “Samantha!” and they’d all choke up with laughter again. Sam and Sandy both knew, from experience, that laughter was often the best medicine in a situation like this. Especially for the uninitiated like Nick.

“I’m glad I killed him, Sam. He was evil; he liked being cruel. And he was going to sell Jorge into kiddy porn. I don’t feel any remorse. Only relief.”

“You did the right thing, Nicky. Now I gotta get Sandy over to the doc’s. We’ve got to clear out of here before the cops get here. It’s isolated, but someone may have heard the shots. Where’s Jorge?”

“He’s at home. Damian and Sarah down the hall are watching him. Remember they offered to help? I’m going to clear out now. Here, you take the gun. And, Sam, when you get home we’re going to have a very serious talk about your extracurricular activities. You nearly died tonight. I’m gonna put my foot down. Are we clear?”

“Very clear, Nicky.”

“I love you, Sam, but enough is enough.”

“I love you too, Nicky.”

As Nick walked back to his big SUV he heard Sandy say, “Kozy, you are soooo willy-whipped!”

“Fuck you, Sandy,” retorted Sam. “When you get home with a cast on your leg Maria’s going to cut off your balls. Juanita!”

*********************

Nick was in bed when Sam arrived home. Jorge was sleeping soundly in his own little bed adjacent.

Sam took a long hot shower, looked lovingly at his small, sleeping son, then crawled into bed with Nick. He snuggled against his husband’s warm back. “I love you, Nicky. I promise I won’t do anything stupid again. I was really scared tonight. Not for myself, but for you and Jorge. If I was gone....”

“Sam, Jorge and I don’t just love you, we rely on you. If Jorge lost you it would be far worse than losing his mother. You’re his rock, Sam. And you’re my rock too. Let’s talk about all this tomorrow. Right now I feel drained. I think I’m in shock. For now just hold me like you’re never going to let go. Wrap me up. Keep my demons at bay.”