Ambition: A Dark Billionaire Romance Anthology (33 page)

A
s soon as
Sophie's first shot went off, I was around the corner of the warehouse, both Glocks firing. I'd told Patrick to use his UMP from his position because the Latin Kings were facing his direction. They'd react to him faster, and with at least half of his rounds being potentially lethal, he'd have a better chance to survive. Also, the firing rate of a UMP is actually a bit slower than most submachine guns, for good reason. It would allow Patrick to waste fewer rounds, and maintain a bit better control of his bursts.

My first shot caught one of the nearest Kings in the back of his head, knocking him out instead of killing him. There was a chance there could have been major damage, but I doubted it. He looked like he was the type with too thick a skull for it to be life threatening.

My next shot caught the person next to him in the shoulder, paralyzing his right arm and making him drop his Uzi. I knew he wasn't totally out of the fight, but I didn't have the time to worry about that, I had to move on.

Sophie fired again above us, followed by a quick succession of four shots. Someone returned fire on her, and I heard the distinctive rattle of an AK-47 and rounds impacting the side of the warehouse. I only hoped that she was safe, I didn't have time to let my mind think about the possible consequences of the rounds. I would only endanger her more by hesitating. Patrick's next burst silenced the AK-47, and I rolled deeper towards the two cars.

My first Glock was empty by the time I'd completed my roll, and two of the Kings on my side were down. Shoulder shot, the second guy I nailed, turned towards me and I lashed out with a thrust kick into his left knee, dislocating it and putting him on the ground for the rest of the fight. I kicked away his Uzi while I shot at another. A burst from above answered my questions about Sophie’s wellbeing, and suddenly all of the Latin Kings were down. It had felt like minutes, but most likely the entire fight took less than sixty seconds.

I holstered my Glocks, which were both empty, and pulled my UMP around to secure the area. "Clear?"

Patrick, who had moved across the alleyway from where he started, darted out, slapping another clip into his UMP. "Clear.”

"Up top, clear?"

"Clear.” Sophie yelled down, her voice pure and strong. A knot that I didn't even know existed threatened to unwind itself in my chest, and I clamped down on it savagely. There would be time for the shakes later. I had one more job to do.

"Secure the area," I told Patrick, "keep an eye out for cops."

Before he could answer I turned and jogged down the dock toward the car, which I saw was resting on two flat tires with at least three bodies around it. I raised my UMP and ran harder, looking for Edgar Villalobos. El Patron was crawling, a wound in his left leg, while his bodyguards wouldn't be getting up ever again. One was on the concrete with a neat hole in his chest, the other was still behind the wheel of his car, slumped over a crimson Rorschach blot that came from his chest.

Villalbos saw me coming up, turning onto his back and crab crawling with his right foot. He reached for the pistol in an underarm holster, but stopped when he saw me tighten the grip on my UMP. "Fuck," he muttered through gritted teeth when he realized who'd attacked him. "You."

"Good evening, Patron," I said, looking down at him as I came up. I reached into his jacket and relieved him of his pistol, a pretty nice looking .357 Magnum, and chucked it into the sea. "Tell me why I shouldn't shoot you now."

"Like anything I say would change your mind," Villalobos replied. "You aren't the type to factor my words into your decisions. You know, I thought you'd been the one to pull that shit to my knee in Filmore, but damn my luck anyways."

I looked down at the man, my finger twitching on the trigger of my weapon. I knew what would be easy, putting a burst into his head. He'd probably thank me if I did, as it would be a lot kinder than what he'd get in prison. On the outside, he was in control of a street gang. On the inside, at least in our state, the Latin Kings weren't a strong presence. He'd end up being someone's bitch most likely.

I shook my head and lowered the barrel. "You're right, I made up my mind already. I don't care how much money you've got saved up, or what strings you think Francine Berkowitz is going to pull for you to get you off, it's not going to be enough to keep you out of jail for a long damn time."

"So that's how you found out. Who squealed? The Union or one of my men? Tell me that at least," Villalobos hissed, pulling himself up to a sitting position against his car. "Fuck, your sniper's good. Where the fuck did you find him? SEALs? Rangers? FBI?"

"Listening to movie music in a nightclub actually," I replied, "but as to your first question, neither. I had Berkowitz's condo tapped. I've got resources too. But let me clue you in on something. Cops are going to come and interrogate you. Now, you and I both know you're dirty enough they can pin you to probably a good dozen or more Class A felonies from tracking the guns around this car and down by your soldiers. And of course, a bunch of them have outstanding warrants too. Despite what you may think, Berkowitz isn't going to spend Union money saving your ass. She'll save herself, but let you rot down at Central Holding until they get done arraigning you, then send you to County. You'll never see a Union lawyer the entire time."

"So that's your game," Villalobos replied. "You want me to flip on her. Why?"

"She pissed me off, that's all you need to know," I replied. Time for a little bit of lies, priming the pump and sealing Francine's fate. "Besides, you know I've been trying to clean up the city. I would have left you and Filmore alone longer, she was always my main target. That is, if she hadn't overreached."

“You motherfucker," Villalobos muttered to himself, cursing his luck and fate. "How many of my boys are dead?"

"Hopefully just the ones here," I replied. “Why, think you'll have a chance to carry enough soldiers in with you to protect your sphincters?"

"Never know," Edgar said, then smiled. "But I ain't becoming no bitch. Might be perforated, but I am not going to be someone's bitch boy."

"Good luck with that," I said. I turned and walked away, leaving behind the fallen king of Latin Kings.

"What's the view?" I asked Sophie over the radio as I approached the scene of the biggest portion of the battle. Patrick was using zip ties to bind the men he could, although three of them had bullet wounds so he was binding around the wounds. He just wanted to keep them from running away into the night.

"Scanner is saying the cops are on their way, I'd give an ETA of five minutes," Sophie replied. The Docks was the sort of neighborhood that wouldn't get a fast response unless it was to certain areas, and Pier 32 wasn't a high priority response area. "We should move."

"Two minutes," I said. I knelt next to Patrick, who was using a chain of three strips to zip tie a wounded Latin King to the handle of his car. "How're they looking?"

"The wounds aren't life threatening," Patrick replied. "How about over there?"

"El Patron is wounded, the others are down permanently," I replied. "They're bound?"

"Those that are conscious. Some of our playmates are going to be knocked out for a while longer."

"Then leave them. If they wake up before the cops get here, they can count themselves lucky, tell their homies what happened. Time for us to ghost."

We met Sophie coming out of the warehouse, her piece slung over her shoulder and the rest of her gear in a backpack on her back. One of the tied up Latin Kings, who'd been shot with just the neutralizer rounds and hadn't been knocked out, opened his eyes wide as he realized that the sniper who'd taken out his boss and his bodyguards was a woman. "A bitch
?
Fuck me, we got taken down by two
gringos
and a bitch
?”

I was proud of Patrick's reaction. I was still turning when he already had his weapon out, shooting another neutralizer round into the man’s shoulder. The man yelped and stopped talking, Patrick smirking with one side of his mouth. "I like these things. Great for just getting them to shut up. Think we can get more?"

T
abby greeted
us at the door, her eyes shimmering with tears of relief and happiness as we walked in the back door of Mount Zion, unharmed. We'd had to wait until long after dark, partly to take the time to dissolve parts of Sophie's rifle and Patrick's UMP in acid. It wasn't strong enough to totally eliminate the thick metal of the barrels, but it would render both of them untraceable. While we left plenty of other evidence behind, specifically the brass of our spent rounds, it would be a lot harder to connect the attack to us if anyone ever came knocking. We'd dispose of the rest of the pieces later, scattering them in the ocean after again giving them an acid bath. Still, it took time.

"We told you we were fine," Patrick said quietly as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him tight and burying her face in his chest. I couldn't hear her sobs, but her shoulders shook, and he stroked her hair, soothing her with gentle murmurs that I couldn't make out.

I put an arm around Sophie's shoulders, watching them. "She looks happy to see him," I quipped, smiling as Tabby pulled her face which was, in fact, streaked with tears away from him to smile at us. "Good, because I think Sophie wants her hug too."

"Get over here you damn fool," she laughed, pulling both of us into a hug. Patrick joined in until Andrea, who was in the dining area and had been sleeping rather soundly, woke up to figure out what was making all the noise. The four of us held each other, a family, only stopping when my daughter's voice demanded attention.

"How was Andrea anyway?" Sophie asked Tabby. "I hope she listened to her Aunt Tabby."

"She's an angel, just like her mother," Tabby replied, sharing a look with Sophie that spoke more than words. I let go of the two women and watched them hug, a bond different but perhaps even deeper than the ones they shared with me and Patrick. I often said Sophie was my soulmate, and I know Patrick felt the same about Tabby, but those two, their souls were grand enough and deep enough that they needed more than one soul to share with. They needed two, each other and their men. They left for the dining room, and I looked at Patrick, offering my hand.

"What's this for?" he asked as we shook.

"You did good out there.... partner."

T
he next day
, Vanessa could see something in my eyes as I walked into the office. "What's up?" she asked, noticing the aggressive spring in my step. "Got someone's balls on a platter or something?"

"Something like that," I answered, thinking of how today was my turn to walk into battle and emerge unscathed. "We're going to have a visitor in about an hour. Then another set of visitors maybe ten minutes after that. Think you can make them comfortable?"

"I'm sure of it," Vanessa said, perplexed. "Going to tell me who these visitors are?"

"First one should be Francine Berkowitz," I said with a baring of teeth that was probably as far from a smile as a lion's. "Second should be Bennie Fernandez and a few of his friends from the Federal building."

"So I guess fresh coffee won't be all that important," Vanessa quipped. "Still, I'll have some on when Ms. Berkowitz shows up. Although I think I'll use the cheap stuff, none of that nice blend you got me from Guatemala."

"That's fine. We can share a cup of the good stuff later then, I have another bag of that and a bag of Colombian you can choose from," I replied. "Just make sure she doesn't suspect anything when she comes in. I want her to be quite surprised when everything goes down."

"Of course, Tabby. I look forward to it, things have been far too regular and boring around here recently."

I grinned and went into my office, looking around. I wanted Francine to have her back to the door, so I decided that the best position for the meeting was at my desk. It wasn't like she was going to be in a friendly mood anyway. While the newspapers didn't have all the information out there, the initial reports of a group of Latin Kings being involved in what the police were saying was a "gangland style hit" had to have her worried. Of course, the cover story itself made us all laugh.

I did my best to busy myself as I waited for Francine to arrive. The meeting had been set up quickly, last night before the Latin Kings went out to the docks. In my message, I had insinuated that I was ready to strike a deal, but didn't say so clearly. It was sure to confuse her, which was exactly what I wanted. I'd won the first round of our little war, and by the end of the evening she would have thought I'd won the second as well. Why was I doing this?

She'd find out soon enough. In the meantime, I sent off a quick e-mail to Gene at the Spartans, along with another to Helen Watters about the grand opening of the community center. I had just clicked send on Helen's message when Vanessa knocked on my office door. "Tabby? Ms. Berkowitz is here to see you."

"Please, show her in, and get some coffee ready," I said. Vanessa nodded, hiding her smile perfectly. She knew how to play the game that was for sure.

Francine came in, and despite what had to have been a stressful past eighteen hours or so, she still carried herself like a cross between a bully and a queen. Practically shouldering Vanessa out of the way, she came into my office like she owned the damn building. I wondered if that was what Marie Antoinette was like before the French guillotined her. "Tabitha, it's nice to see you again."

"Good morning, Francine. Please, have a seat."

Francine started to sit down at the coffee table, before realizing that I wasn't moving from my office chair. She played it off well, setting her purse down on the chair before coming over. "So to what do I owe the pleasure of your invitation?"

"I felt like we needed to clear the air between us, Francine," I answered. Under my desk, I tapped a button that was hooked up to my computer, silently beginning to record everything that was happening in the room. While I didn't know if I would turn over anything to Bennie Fernandez, it was always helpful to have a little bit of extra ammunition to offer. "You know, the past few months have hardly been profitable for the Union, and I'm quite frankly sick and tired of the bullshit that I have to deal with to get my business done. I think I need to make a major change in the city's landscape, and you are exactly the woman to help me do it."

"I don't know what you mean," Francine replied, looking for all the world like a child who had just gotten their hand caught in the cookie jar, but still didn't give a shit. Cocky, arrogant, and sure of her impending victory. It was so ludicrous that I was having difficulty controlling my smile. "I mean, I'm not sure how the Union could help you."

"Well, before I ask more, perhaps you could explain that more to me. Let me just say I've gotten the impression that if I go along with the Union on certain things, the road towards getting what I want gets radically smoother. How is that?"

"That depends on what MJT can offer the Union," Francine replied. "I mean, how much more are you looking to invest in the city?"

"We currently have an investment fund in the eight figure range," I replied. "I'd have to check with Marcus directly, but my goal is to triple the amount of businesses that MJT is invested in within the next two to five years."

Francine blinked, momentarily given pause. It wasn't often when someone flatly said they wanted to buy stake in over ten percent of the businesses in a major city, along with also stating they had a investment fund of at least a hundred million dollars set aside to do so. The best part was, I was understating things. If Francine knew exactly how much money MJT had access to, not even including what we could leverage or borrow, she'd probably have a heart attack. "That... that's quite a feat, Tabitha. Do you really feel that you can do all that with this two woman operation running out of the top floor of a gym?"

"I think that if the road were smoothed for me, yes I could," I said. "But that's where the problem lies. You see, if I have to spend half my funds hiring attorneys and fighting the Union and the city in courts, I can't do nearly as much as I want to do. So, while it might hurt me a bit, I think in the long run I can do better working without the Union in the way."

"I wholeheartedly agree," Francine said, her grin growing triumphant. "I'm glad your viewpoint is coming around."

"But tell me, Francine, just how is it that you get it all done? I mean, it should seem impossible to get all of the various unions to cooperate under your banner. Some of them are diametrically opposed to one another, yet you somehow get it all done. MJT could take some lessons from you I think."

"There's a few areas where we can exert influence," Francine replied, "the least of which is having dirt on the right people in the city. Why, with what I know about some of the members of the city council along with the heads of some of the city departments, I could have myself declared God around here and nobody is going to be able to say boo about it."

"Those sorts of connections must go rather high. Tell me, just between the two of us, how high do they go?"

"All the way to Congress," Francine laughed. "I've got ten different members of the House and a Senator who all owe me their jobs and their secrets. You'd be shocked at some of the perverted shit politicians in Washington get up to if you just offer it to them."

"So if we cooperate, do you think I could have access to some of those connections?"

Francine laughed and shook her head. "I doubt it. You see Tabitha, the thing is that I have everything I need. I don't need MJT in my corner, but you need me. This isn't going to be equitable. You're going to play by my rules, and in return, I won't crush you."

"I doubt that," I replied. I saw shadowy outlines against the frosted glass outside, and decided it was time to turn the tables. "Francine, I called you here today to tell you that despite your attempts, despite funding a frivolous lawsuit, and despite your hiring the Latin Kings to disrupt the opening of the community center in a few weeks, MJT has decided to continue in its current policy of not working with the Union. In fact, we're going to be rejecting the Union in general, and will continue to shop out contracts to individual companies regardless of their union status. Further attempts to interfere with our business will result in a lawsuit being filed against the Union by MJT."

"You called me down here just to throw down the gauntlet? Are you insane, or just rude as hell?" Francine spat, seething. After months of polite back and forth, or veiled threats and restrained innuendo, here was the core of Francine Berkowitz, angry and exposed, a despot who thought with her largest competition out of the way in the way of Owen Lynch and the Confederation, she was in a position to be an empress. "You think this is just a game, you pretty little bitch? I've crushed companies bigger than yours, hell, I've crushed whole city administrations. Got it? Your company, out of business. Your boyfriend Patrick? He won't even get a job washing dishes in this state, if he even survives to the next election. Your pretty little house? I'll have that shit repossessed and torn down. Better yet, I might just make it my house by the time it's all over. I'll...."

Her words stopped in an instant as the door to my office opened, and two police officers walked in, along with Bennie Fernandez. "Ah, hello Mr. Fernandez," I said with a tight little smile. "How's your morning been?"

"Very interesting. I woke up to find such wonderfully absorbing information that I read and watched along with my morning coffee. In fact, Judge Hawkins agreed with me, and when you sent me a message, well, I just had to come by with some of my friends to say thank you. Then I see that you've given us an even larger gift."

"You bitch," Francine said, looking from Bennie to me. "You conniving little bitch."

The rest of it was pretty standard stuff you'd see in any cop show. Francine didn't even fight except for a few snippy words, just let herself be handcuffed and escorted out by the cops. They took the elevator, which I was glad for. Taking the stairs up from the ground floor was difficult enough, trying to do it in high heels and handcuffed? Knowing Francine Berkowitz, she'd have thrown herself down the steps and sued the city as well as MJT for injuries. I wouldn't want that, as much as seeing her on crutches would be appealing.

"Bye Francine,” I dismissed Berkowitz as she walked out. Bennie Fernandez stopped at the door and gave me a look. "What? I've wanted to say that to her for at least six months."

Bennie nodded in understanding, then stuck his head out the door. "Take her down to the car, we'll take her to the Federal Building for questioning and process her there. Give me a few minutes though, I forgot something I needed to ask Miss Williams."

The cops outside agreed, and Bennie closed the door, waiting until he heard the elevator start down to turn to me. "You've handed me another feather in my cap, Miss Williams. This is becoming a very pleasant routine."

"Tabby. Didn't I tell you that last time?" I replied. "But don't give me all the credit. I'm sure you know that."

Bennie nodded. "Yes, but you should give your friend some advice. First off, thanks for the restraint showed. Only two dead against thirteen Latin Kings, all trussed up? Very impressive work. But he needs to watch his back. The ATF is very interested in those polymer and powder rounds. They're poking around. I can keep them distracted, but if he uses them again..."

"I understand," I replied. "You know Mr. Fernandez, he's your friend too."

Bennie shook his head. "No. You and I both know, if I had to I'd prosecute him too. He's guilty of at least four federal firearms crimes that I know of. Although that's minor considering what the DA would want him for. Thankfully, the DA is a friend of mine, I clerked in his office when I was in law school. He's more than happy to just keep putting away the scum bags. The Latin Kings alone might guarantee him a judgeship if he wants it. But if the Snowman ever gets into the public eye, he's going to have to give him attention as well."

I nodded. "And your point of view on it?"

Bennie shrugged. "I just arrested the head of the Union, which happens to include the police and fire departments. And as much as I hate to say it, even with all the good cops out there, this city needs a lot of help. But tell him, don't push it too far. There's a lot to say for just investing money and driving a riding lawnmower all day. Take care, Tabby."

It was the closest Bennie Fernandez came to saying flatly that he knew who Mark was. I nodded in understanding, and Bennie left, closing the door behind him.