Smugglers 3 Accidental Kingpin (10 page)

On today’s
Molokai you won’t find traffic lights, elevators, neon signs, fast food, or anything taller than a palm tree. The pristine stretches of white sand beaches are just like the island’s streets—uncrowded and blissfully quiet. I wish I was there for a different reason; I might have enjoyed my visit.

M
olokai is a smaller island, but the dealer there makes a lot of money and has not been bothered by the local cops for years. Everybody knows who he is and where he lives. He has the dope business from grass to heroin tied up on the island. He drives around with immunity and makes no attempt to hide anything.

We waited outside a fish store for him to arrive. When he got there and went inside we were incensed that he didn’t have a driver or body guard. In fact he drove an open air Jeep. He really had it made.

When he came out Bob approached him and asked if he was the king of the dope dealers.

“Yeah,
and who in the hell are you?”

He was a big man, over six feet and four hundred pounds. Bob was about five feet ten and two hundr
ed pounds. As the kingpin reached for him, I approached him from behind with my machete in hand. As he was about to get a hold of Bob, I hit him with my machete at the elbow and his arm fell to the sidewalk which to Bob’s relief stopped him in his tracks.

He spun around and raised both arms to grasp me, not knowing one arm lay at his feet. When he came to the realization that one of his arms was cut off by me and after seeing me and the machete and coming to the realization that he was about to die, his eyes got bigger than the spare tire on his Jeep
. He turned to run away.

Before he took one step, my machete made that
dreadful arc which cut his other arm off at the elbow. Just for one second he reminded me of the Black Knight with no arms or legs in that Monty Python movie.

Then I tried to cut his head off, but it didn’t fall to the ground, just to one side before he dropped dead at our feet.

I’d have to sharpen my blade for next time.

CHAPTER 12

Bob and I made our way back to the boat and headed out for Waimea, leaving Honolulu
, the biggest one, for last. By now we were sure it would be harder to get the last one because we thought the word had gotten around that someone was killing the kingpins for each island.

We got our slip and rented a car then drove out to see the lay of the land. When we got to his address I was very disappointed. It was big, opulent and very well protected. It looked like the estate of Tony Montana in Scarface with a gated long driveway with a guardhouse that was manned twenty four seven.

To take him we must get him out of this estate or it would never happen.

A week went by, and he never left the estate. No cars left the place either except for the help’s.

Waimea, also called Kamuela, is unlike any other place on Hawaii Island. Known as paniolo, the Hawaiian cowboy country, this historic area is home to rolling, green pastures filled with cattle, cowboys and ranches. It is a place where stop signs read “Whoa,” instead of “Stop.”  It is the home of Kahua Ranch, a working sheep and cattle ranch where visitors can learn about the paniolo lifestyle by exploring the scenic landscapes by horseback or ATV.

It was here that the island kingpin had his own ranch in cowboy country.

But there is more to Waimea than just paniolo. The area was now home to a thriving community, to which the kingpin belonged.

One day over coffee Bob mentioned that there was a big luau at a major hotel for all the dignita
ries of the city. “I bet he will be here,” he said and handed me the paper.

After reading the article
, I agreed. “You’re right! Now we have to find a way for me to get in there in the next three days.”

Not using my real name made it harder. It was out of the question that I would be invited using my alias name. If I was to get on the list, it would have to be under my real name.

Bob got the list of hotel employees, and to our surprise, there were a dozen ex-felons on it plus another dozen who used drugs or gambled and owed bookies big money. I told Bob that one thing all these years in the business have taught me is felons can’t be trusted to not roll over on you when they get busted down the line, and drug hustlers can’t be trusted ever—that’s not ever. But gamblers can be bought, and they look like regular people but have a secret fear of being killed by their bookie or an even bigger fear is that their family will find out what they have been up to.

“So
Bob,” I said, “which of these gamblers don’t drink or do drugs but owes lots and lots of money? Find me that man who’s working the affair.”

He did and the man owed eighty thousand dollars to local bookies. When I met with him I took one hundred thousand dollars in cash and told him I was the paparazzi
.

“If you can
sneak me in, I’ll give you the one hundred thousand, enough to pay off your bookies and have twenty thousand left over.”

We made the deal. I gave him ten grand so he knew
I wasn’t playing him. “You’ll get the ninety at the door when I get in.”

On t
he night of the gala, I waited outside the food loading door. When he opened it, I gave him the rest of the money and went inside, dressed in my best tux and all.

I saw two people I knew
, so I had to stay clear of them or my plan would be for naught.

I found my target in the main ballroom before everyone sat down for dinner and speeches.

My plan was to pose as a waiter, and I prepared a tray. I prepared two glasses of champagne containing a slow acting poison called Sarin.

With champagne
tray in hand, I got close to the kingpin and his wife. They were talking to another couple.

“
I see you two are empty,” I said smoothly, “so here you go.” I swapped out the glasses.

The wife
was collateral damage, but she had been spending the money for years. Money built on the backs of drug addicts that he had supplied. Drug addicts like Teo.

The
poison would take two hours to work, so I left.

When I awoke the next morning, the TV was full of the couple passing out at the function.
They’d been rushed to the hospital, where they were declared dead. An investigation was to follow.

The good thing about Sarin poison is that a pin sized amount will kill, and in seventy two hours there is no trace in the body for the coroner to find in the autopsy.

The next day we headed out for my estate on the far side of the island from Honolulu. Upon arrival I left Bob on the boat to do his work and went up to the house.

What I found didn’t surprise me, as it was past two in the afternoon. My wife was in her two thousand square foot bedroom
, passed out with a half filled drink still in her hand.

There was something new
: an ash tray filled to the very top with butts and an open pack of cigarettes.

S
he had started smoking. God, I thought, she’ll burn the house down.

I tried to wake her to no avail. She just rolled over no matter how hard I
shook her or yelled.

“Karen,” I yelled.

Bob’s wife appeared at the base of the stairs. “I know, I know. I can’t do anything with her.”

“Just make sure she doesn’t burn the fucking house down,” I growled.

The next day I met with Bob and handed him a large suitcase with five hundred grand in it as a bonus for the trip we had just done together.

In the meeting I said, “We know there’s one kingpin over all the men we just took care of.”

“I know. I tried to find him in the past but couldn’t.”

“Bob,” I said, “We must fi
nd him now or else he will replace the five men we just took care of in two weeks or less.”

He went to work finding the boss, and I went back to the house to try to get my drunk of a wife up. It was four thirty by now
, and she was in the den freshening up her drink with one hand, a cigarette in the other hand.

“Are you fucking crazy?
” I yelled. “These things will fucking kill you!” I took the pack of cigarettes and her lit one from her and crushed them. “You will not smoke in this house or any car, and if I catch you, there will be hell to pay.”

“God”, she said, “t
hat’s funny coming from a dope dealer whose son and daughter both died on his product. You’ve caused so much misery over the years to thousands of parents watching their son or daughter slowly kill themselves on your shit.”

I slapped her and said, “I’m not a
dope dealer and never have been!”

She
just looked at me, then broke into hysterical laughter. “That’s rich, it really is,” she yelled at me. “I hate you, you fucking bastard. I more than hate you! I wish you were dead. I wish I was dead, too! I wish both of us could die together so we could join the kids.”

“I miss the kids, too,” I yelled. “But we have to go on, make a life for ourselves without them.”

“How can you even think that’s possible? It was your fault they died, you son of a bitch!”

She ran to her bedroom and slammed the door. I heard the lock click.

“You don’t fucking have to lock the door. I don’t want to be in the same room with you, not even the same house!” I yelled and headed to the garage.

I left the house and went to
Tamara’s condo, the second one I’d bought for her. This one cost a million dollars and was worth every penny. I still couldn’t believe that this beautiful and sexy girl could love me, but she did, I had no doubt. I gave her ten thousand dollars a month, and she was available to me any time I wanted her.

I walked in and was greeted with a kiss and a “I
missed you! I love you. Where have you been? I tried to call you several times.” Her questions were not accusatory, simply conversation, and I knew every word she said was true.

Tamara
made me a drink, took my jacket, and we sat on the sofa kissing and caressing one another. I needed her like I’d never needed another human being.

I undressed her
and was instantly aroused at the sight of her beautiful athletic body, the kind you only saw in magazines or on your computer. And she was all mine.

As
I stripped her clothes off, she led me to her bedroom where she undressed me, rubbing her hands over my many cuts and bullet hole scars.

It’s funny how a younger woman makes an older man feel better.
I felt like a young kid when I was with her. She helped me recapture some of my youth, making me feel taller, thinner, stronger.

I wanted to protect her from the ugliness of the world; I’d
fight at the drop of a hat for her.

In her bedroom on
the bed, I completed the unveiling of her beautiful body. The sight of her dark skin against the white silk sheets made me lose my breath and my joint get hard. I pushed Tamara onto her back and tasted her from her neck and breasts to her clit.

I slid my hand beneath the cheeks of her ass and spread her legs to give me more access to her body. My tongue and lips couldn’t get enough of her. We made love for hours and hours until I rolled over completely spent and exhausted.
We fell asleep in one another’s arms.

When I woke up it was seven that night. We changed and went to a local five star place we liked to frequent. During dinner I gave her a set of three carat post earrings. I had g
iven her lots of gifts over the years we’d been together, including new cars and the condo.

I stayed with her for
five days during which we made love in every room in the condo, and even on the balcony under a full moon.

I didn’t want to go home, but eventually
I went back to my estate. A week had gone by since I talked to Bob. At a meeting with him he said he had found the supplier for all the islands, but he lived in a big estate that was well guarded.

In fact we were neighbors. To my surprise
, I had known this family for five or more years and had no idea of his real identity. To all extent, he was a fine upstanding citizen. I didn’t need to drive by because I knew the house well. I’ve been there many times, the last time being a New Year’s Eve party.

“Bob
,” I said, “Figure out how we can do him without being seen! I’ll get back to you at week’s end.”

I made sure Lucia was still alive, then returned to Tamara where she pampered me with great f
ood and drinks and a lot of mind blowing sex.

When I got back to Bob, he still had not figured out a safe way in and out
of the kingpin’s compound.

After giving it some thought
, I told him to put one of the jet skis in the water. I would look at the target’s estate from the sea.

I took the jet ski out and went down to
my neighbor’s cove. He had TV cameras in the yard tracking the ocean and some scanning the yard and house or pools. In order for this deal to work, we must first take out the cameras.

I went home and sat on my sun chair with a drink
, and after two or three hours of thinking, I came up with a plan.

I needed to get a few things
and made a list for Bob: a Bushmaster 223 with a night scope and 9-mm automatics with silencers as throw downs, a new clean jet ski, stolen or in any case, untraceable, and the kind of baseball cap that won’t allow the wearer’s face to be videotaped.

“Bob, try to get everything ready in two weeks.”

“No problem,” he said, perusing the list. “I’ll order the cap today. It’s online.”

The next two weeks went by slowly
, except for the days and nights I spent with Tamara. She’d found a body oil with a scent that drove me wild.

She poured
the exotic oil into her Jacuzzi on the balcony. We soaked for an hour, caressing one another in all the right places in between sips of expensive champagne. I must have done something right in my life to be rewarded with the love of this very special woman.

Bob called me that he had all the goods ready, but
we decided to wait for college to start, so his kids would not be home, which took another three weeks. I didn’t mind, and neither did Tamara, who had stocked up on lobster tails and raw oysters. She also fed me herbs from China that she said would give me a hard on that would last for hours. Better than Viagra, as it turned out, and Tamara was well pleased. I didn’t want my time with her to end, but soon I had to get down to serious business.

We had one last fling before I embarked on my grand finale.

“Can I invite my girlfriend to join us?” Tamara asked.

“What’s she like?”

“She’s beautiful, a full blooded Hawaiian.”

“She can’t be as beautiful as you. There’s no one like you, Tamara,” I said, nibbling on her neck.

“You are so sweet,” she returned. “So, are you ready for the fuck of your lifetime?”