Suffer (20 page)

38

GREY HELD UP A NECKLACE and glanced at his watch. He and the Chief had been inside Little Al’s pawn shop for thirty minutes. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Chief on the other side of the small shop, holding a camera. Each man had the attention of the two clerks working behind the counters on either side of the room. The muscle with the gun displayed in a shoulder holster was standing in front of a heavy steel door separating the showroom from Little Al’s office. The other clerk burst out in laughter at Chief’s joke.

Agent Carlos Perez and one of his men were parked a block away with Evan and Ronnie in the back seat of their sedan. He held a clear view of the stand-alone building that was under their surveillance two hours before the store opened. Carlos knew his new friends were outnumbered and outgunned, but they had no choice other than moving forward with the risky plan. The element of surprise was in their favor, but the agent knew it might not be enough to overtake Little Al’s lair.

They had very little time to get to Al and discover the identity of the unsub. The killer was expecting Ronnie to make the cash deposit in thirty-six hours. And when he did, his life was over. There was no doubt in Grey’s mind that, when the unsub realized Ronnie was in the wind, they’d lose the advantage of being on the offensive. The clock was ticking.

“I take it this is for a special lady?” asked the clerk, helping Grey.

“Yeah, she’s special,” said Grey, smiling. “A pain in the ass sometimes, but special.”

“I know the feeling,” said the clerk. “I’ve been married for twelve years. I’d divorce her, but I’m scared shitless of her.”

“I feel your pain, buddy.”

“Hey, I’ve got a couple really nice pieces in the back,” said the clerk. “Give me a second to grab them and I’ll let you take a look.”

“Really nice means really expensive,” said Grey, trying to keep everyone out front. “We’re not there yet. Let me see the one with the skull pendant. That has her name written all over it.”

As the clerk reached down, the last two customers looking through a stack of DVDs left the store. Grey and Chief both concentrated on keeping their pulse rate from elevating. Evan and Ronnie were seconds away from entering.

Grey knew how he and Chief were going to handle the threat, but Evan and Ronnie were unknown variables. The Chief was confident Evan would step up to the plate, but Grey was less optimistic. Evan was untested in the field, and Ronnie was still shaking from the previous day’s events. They weren’t exactly Grey’s first choices for firepower if the plan fell apart.

The imitation bell chimed through the speaker located above the entrance to the store. Ronnie walked inside, carrying a metal briefcase and looking like death. Grey could sense his uneasiness and knew the muscle at the security door would as well. The bell chimed again a few seconds later as Evan joined the party. He was on his cellphone, trying to blend in as a customer.

“Be right with you, sir,” greeted the clerk attending to Chief.

Ronnie walked straight to the muscle as planned. “I have something for Little Al,” said Ronnie, cracking open the case and showing the cash.

The muscle recognized Ronnie as a repeat customer. He patted him down and told him to look into the camera above the door. When Little Al verified his identity, Grey, Chief, and Evan heard the buzz and click of the metal door unlocking. All three moved at the same time; Grey was the fastest.

At the briefing in the War Room earlier that morning, Carlos had arrived carrying a large duffel bag. Inside were four semi-automatic pistols complete with high-end silencers. Evan tore down the dividing wall in the soundproof room so each could become familiar with the weapons. Evan had never been in a position to draw down on a human with the intent to kill, but he was by far the best shot of the three.

When the door buzzed, Ronnie took a few steps inside the short hall and then stopped. His only job was to hold the door open for Grey and Chief. Evan turned around and locked the front door to the shop, flipped the hanging sign from open to closed, and drew the blind. Before the blind blocked any view into the shop, he saw Carlos pull the car up to the curb outside.

Both clerks looked over at Evan locking the door. The muscle looked as well, but then snapped his head toward Grey as he rushed him. He reached for his gun, but his world went dark when Grey pressed his pistol to his chest and fired a single round. His heart exploded and pieces of it followed the bullet into the wall behind him.

Chief had his pistol inches away from the clerk’s face who had been laughing a few seconds earlier at his jokes. Evan had his drawn and pointed at the clerk who had helped Grey. Both men were ordered to walk from behind the counter and lie on the floor in the middle of the shop. As the instructions were given to the terrified clerks, Grey had already moved down the ten foot hall to Little Al’s office. There were still two men unaccounted for.

During the brief, Ronnie had informed Grey that Little Al had a bodyguard who was never more than a few feet away. Whenever he visited Al at the shop, the bodyguard was always sitting in a leather chair to the left of the opening to the office. Al was always behind his desk. There was no question both would be armed.

When Grey passed Ronnie holding open the door, he switched the gun to his left hand and grabbed the metal case containing the cash with his right. Just as Ronnie described, Grey entered the office and saw the bodyguard sitting in the chair. He was making the mistake of reaching for the shotgun beside him. The sound of the two bullets impacting his skull was louder than the sound of the rounds leaving the pistol. If Al didn’t witness the contents of his bodyguard’s head painting the wall, he would’ve sworn somebody just opened two cans of soda.

Al couldn’t move his 350 pounds fast enough to reach the sawed-off shotgun concealed under his desktop before Grey was on top of him. Little Al wasn’t concerned about the gun in Grey’s left hand. All his attention was focused on the metal briefcase hurling toward his face. He was swinging for the fences when the case made contact with Al’s nose. Blood and money rained inside the office when the case popped open after the impact. Cash fluttered to the floor where Little Al was moaning on his back.

From the first shot to the money storm, less than ten seconds had passed. He reached down to pick up the shotgun Al had fumbled on his way down to the deck as Chief entered the room.

“Ain’t this a sight,” said Chief as he watched the falling bills. “We have a winner.”

“Is Evan okay?” asked Grey, aiming the pistol at Al’s stunned face.

“Yep,” said Chief. “Went off like clockwork. The clerks are disabled and laying on the floor. Evan did good, Boss.”

Before Al hit the floor, he pressed a pedal located a few inches from his foot. The alarm system didn’t notify local authorities to a robbery. It was wired to send alerts to several cell phones belonging to his crew. If Carlos had failed to reprogram the system the night before, Grey’s phone wouldn’t be beeping.

“Just got your message,” said Grey, leaning over Al with his phone. “Too bad I’m the only one. No help coming for you, fat man.”

“You’re fucking dead, Ronnie!” yelled Al, holding his bleeding face. “You’re all fucking dead!”

Grey stepped on Al’s throat and drove a punch into his stomach. “Lying on your back like a chubby turtle with a broken face, and you’re still managing to piss me off.”

“You have no idea who you’re fucking with,” coughed Al. “Even if you kill me, you’re still dead.”

“Where’s the fun in that,” said Grey. “I’m not going to kill you right away. Shooting your goons and tapping your face is just the beginning.”

Al’s eyes followed the moving gun and watched as Grey aimed. He squeezed the trigger, sending a bullet into his foot. He stood to give Al room to scream and writhe in pain. The large man rolled over out of the flatted chair and tried to grab his foot, something he’d been unable to do since he was a teenager.

“Christ,” said Chief. “That fat tub of shit can’t even reach his feet. How do you think he cleans them?”

“Don’t really want to visualize that, Chief.”

“Hey,” yelled Grey, trying to get Al’s attention. “Stop fucking wiggling and crying like a baby. You through pissing me off? If not, I’ve got plenty of bullets and nothing but time. We closed the shop early for you today.”

Grey reached down and pressed the barrel into the side of Al’s knee. “Now, this one is really gonna hurt.”

“Stop!” cried Little Al. “Stop shooting me! Please!”

“That’s up to you,” said Grey. “You ready to be nice?”

“Yes,” exhaled Al.

“Good,” said Chief, coming around the other side of the desk. “We’re gonna have a little chat. If you do well, you’ll be limping into an ER shortly, telling a pretty nurse how you shot yourself in the foot and then fell on your face. If not, they’ll be zipping you up with your two dead buddies. Which way do you wanna go?”

“What do you want?” asked Al.

“The money on the floor is what Ronnie owes you, plus interest,” said Grey. “Any business you have with him is over. I hear that you gave him a dollar to gamble or harassed his family, and I’ll end you, fat man. Understand? Forget you ever knew him.”

“I understand,” said Al. “What I don’t understand is why you’re killing my guys and kicking my ass. All he had to do was pay.”

“I don’t give a fuck about Ronnie,” said Chief. “I do give a fuck about your boy who killed a six-year-old kid and is trying to kill his mother. That’s why I’m here. And if you think this crazy bastard is dishing out some pain, wait until I get started.”

“Fuck me,” said Al. “I knew this was coming. As soon as I heard what he did to that woman and her kid, I knew this was coming.”

“It’s here,” said Grey. “Who is he and where is he?”

“I don’t know,” said Al.

“Short memory,” said Grey, pulling back the hammer on the pistol. “Explaining two bullet holes in you is gonna be a little harder.”

“I don’t know his real name or where he is,” repeated Al. “That’s not how it works.”

“Explain how it does work,” said Chief.

“Go ahead and kill me now,” said Al. “I’m fucking dead anyway.”

“What are you afraid of, Al?” asked Grey.

“I’m afraid of that crazy motherfucker, but my boss is the one who’s gonna skin me alive. Do you know Ermano Valor Santiago?”

“Of course I do,” said Chief. “That’s your boss? Yeah, tubby, you are fucked.”

“They call the guy you want the Reaper,” said Al. “None of us knows his real name. The only one who does is Santiago. They go all the way back to when they were smuggling shit in and out of Cuba. The Reaper is a fucking ghost.”

“Santiago was behind all this?” asked Grey.

“No,” said Al, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Santiago’s closest underboss is my cousin. He reached out to the Reaper without Santiago’s knowledge. He was going to get half of my cut. He’s a dead man, too. I swear we told him just to scare them.”

“Yeah,” said Chief. “We’ve been hearing that a lot.”

“You guys are fucked, too,” said Al. “Santiago would never give him up. They have too much history.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Grey. “A little pain goes a long way.”

The men left little Al’s pawn shop after giving him a few instructions. They knew he wouldn’t go to the police or Santiago and that he would quietly clean up the mess they had left behind. Killing Little Al wasn’t necessary and would only have brought unwanted attention from the cops and Sheriff Doyle.

“That was fucking intense,” said Evan, driving the car Carlos left at the curb. “You are truly a bad ass, Grey.”

“I just killed two men who didn’t have a chance, Evan. And we’re no closer to finding the unsub than we were this morning. There’s nothing bad ass about that. Give it a rest.”

“Sorry, Grey,” said Evan.

“They teach you that foot thing at the Bureau?” asked Chief, bailing out Evan.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” said Grey. “It seemed more effective than threatening him with prison.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“We’re running out of time, Chief.”

“Yeah, we are. But so is he, Boss.”

39

THERE WAS NO TIME TO celebrate the flawless execution of the plan to take down Little Al on his turf. There was even less time to rest. As soon as the men arrived back at the house, Grey and Chief headed for the War Room to dig up as much information as possible about Santiago. After two hours, they had nothing of value.

Agent Ramirez arrived to move Ronnie and his family to a safe house. Evan and Abby were downstairs boxing the toys, DVDs, and art supplies they used to make Jessica’s room comfortable. They knew the safe house would have no entertainment for a five-year-old girl. Kate entered the War Room with a carafe of coffee and three cups.

“Looks like you guys are going to be pulling an all-nighter,” said Kate.

“You’re an angel,” said Chief, taking the first cup.

“Good to see you again, Agent Ramirez,” greeted Kate.

“You’re getting around well,” said Carlos. “You’ve come a long way since the rehab center.”

“And I pay for it at the end of the day,” said Kate. “Every muscle in my body aches.”

“Carlos,” said Grey, getting his attention. “What do you know about Ermano Santiago?”

“You want the CliffsNotes or encyclopedia version?” said Carlos. “I can give you both.”

“Little Al told us the unsub works for him,” said Chief. “Called him the Reaper.”

“All of Santiago’s enforcers are called Reapers,” said Carlos. “He has at least a dozen between here and Cuba.”

“So he is Mob,” said Grey.

“No,” said Carlos. “He is the mob.”

“Start with the CliffsNotes,” said Grey, closing his laptop. “We’ll work our way up to encyclopedia.”

“He’s an old school gangster,” said Carlos. “He goes all the way back to the Bay of Pigs in 1961. He’s in his late sixties now, but was trained to fight by the CIA when he was eighteen. He’s political and very anti-Castro. He moved up the ranks in the Corporation to eventually become a lieutenant of none other than Jose Battle Sr. himself.”

“The Corporation?” asked Kate.

“The Cuban Mob,” replied Carlos. “Jose Battle Sr. was also a CIA-trained fighter at the Bay of Pigs. He and Santiago were taken prisoner together and survived two years of torture in a Cuban prison. They were released after a deal was brokered by the Americans. For his service, Battle was given a commission as an officer in the U.S. Army. After serving a few years, he ended up moving to Jersey to further his enterprise and build the Corporation’s strength. Santiago stayed behind in Miami to look after their local interests. Battle moved out of Jersey to avoid the heat and returned to Miami in 1980.”

“Didn’t they lock up Battle?” asked Chief.

“They did,” said Carlos. “He was arrested in 2004 for racketeering and died in prison in 2007. Most law enforcement, including the FBI, thought that was the end of the Corporation. For the most part it was until Valor Santiago quietly took over the entire operation in 2005. He’s not flashy and doesn’t like being in the limelight like Battle did. He also doesn’t order hits unless they’re absolutely necessary. Battle would have had your head if you looked at him wrong. It’s why Santiago doesn’t draw a lot of heat down here.”

“Is he on the FBI’s radar?” asked Grey.

“He’s a tiny blip,” replied Carlos. “He’s a criminal, but he doesn’t gets his hands dirty. There’s no association with him and drugs. His specialties are money laundering, gambling, loan sharking, and smuggling guns. But even his gun running has slowed down over the past few years. The ATF was working up a case against him. As soon as he found out, he closed up shop. When things cool down again, there’s no doubt he’ll resume the weapons trade. Like I said, he’s old school.”

“I’m not sure what that means,” said Kate. “Old school?”

“Battle’s downfall was his political agenda turning into a personal one,” said Carlos. “He got caught up in the big money and lifestyle. He cut all ties with the groups looking to overthrow Castro. That’s when the U.S. Government turned their backs on him and let the FBI chew him up. But Santiago is a different story and a different breed of gangster.

“He still has strong ties with groups inside Cuba looking to take control away from the Castro family. A large portion of the money he generates through the Corporation helps to fund their programs, but it isn’t much. We estimate his operations generate about a million a year. He sees himself as more of a political activist than a crime boss. He stays away from drug trafficking or any other illegal act that will make him a bigger target on the radar. If another group or young gun tries to move in and change things, that’s when he sends the Reapers to maintain balance.”

“It makes sense that he wouldn’t know about his Reaper going after Kate,” said Grey.

“I agree,” said Carlos. “His history of violence is limited to political assassinations in Cuba and making a few local gangsters disappear. He’d consider what happened to Kate and Caleb as despicable and dishonorable.”

“Do you think he knows now?” asked Kate.

“I don’t know,” said Carlos. “He’s fiercely loyal to family, and the word on the street is all his Reapers are family. Even if he did know, he’d deal with it himself. I doubt he’d just hand him over to us.”

“He won’t be handing him over to the FBI,” said Kate. “He’d be handing him over to me.”

“I doubt that’ll make a difference,” said Carlos.

“Is he touchable?” asked Grey.

“Not like you touched Little Al,” answered Carlos. “There have been a few attempts on his life over the years, but nothing recent. He has a modest house south of Miami near Little Havana, but the property it sits on is vast and very well protected. He has a small army out there. Thirty, maybe thirty-five, goons at all times. Getting on the property would be difficult. Getting inside the house would be suicide.”

“Then how do we get to him?” asked Chief.

“Like his Reaper got to me,” answered Kate. “And how we got to Ronnie. We find out what he loves the most, and then we take it from him.”

“He has a daughter and two sons with a handful of grandchildren,” said Carlos. “None of them live in Florida. I’ll try and get you more information when I return, but I need to get Ronnie and his family out of here.”

“Of course,” said Kate. “Thank you for everything you’ve done, Carlos. I know what you’re risking by helping me.”

“I wish there was more I could do about Santiago,” said Carlos. “He just has too many guns around him. And it doesn’t help that he’s smart.”

Carlos walked out of the War Room and escorted Ronnie and his family to the SUV parked in front of the house. It was the only time Grey had allowed a vehicle so close to the front door. Evan and Abby joined the team after Carlos left the property. They could sense something was wrong in the quiet room.

“Why so glum?” asked Abby, standing beside her sister’s chair. “I thought you guys had a good day.”

“Well, the good news is, we only have one more link in the chain before we discover the identity of the unsub,” said Chief. “The bad news is, that link happens to be the head of the Cuban mafia.”

“That is bad news,” said Abby. “What’s the plan?”

“There is no plan,” said Grey, “other than finding somewhere to hide Kate until we figure this out.”

“I’m sitting right here, Grey,” said Kate. “I’m not a package, and I’m not going anywhere. True, this is a setback, but we still have time.”

“No, we don’t, Kate,” said Grey. “We need to move you tomorrow.”

“Grey, I’m going to end this argument before it gets started,” said Kate. “I’m not hiding from anyone. We’ll revisit this conversation in the morning. Goodnight.”

Kate slid her chair back and stood before Grey could respond. She hugged Abby and headed for the stairs. Several minutes passed before anyone still seated at the table spoke.

“Well, I had a pretty exciting day,” said Chief, standing. “I’m gonna take my old ass to bed. That is unless you wanna have a drink with me, Evan.”

“I’m good,” said Evan, holding up his hands in surrender.

“We’ll sort this out, Grey,” said Chief. “Try to get some sleep, Rambo.”

Grey smiled at Chief as he walked past and patted his head. Abby stood and made her way to the kitchen. Evan stood as well, but Grey stopped him.

“How about you grab us a couple cold ones and join me out back?” said Grey. “I think we could both use a drink.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” said Evan, turning for the kitchen.

“Grab me one, please,” said Abby, making a sandwich. “Do you want something to eat?”

“No, thanks,” said Evan, opening the refrigerator. “I’m probably about to get my ass chewed, and I’d rather it happen on an empty stomach.”

“Why are you going to get your ass chewed?” asked Abby. “I thought you guys did great today.”

“They did great,” said Evan. “All I had to do was lock a door and hold a gun on an old man. Grey and Chief did all the heavy lifting.”

“So why are you in trouble?”

“I was all pumped up after and said something I shouldn’t have,” said Evan. “Grey had to kill two of them, and I acted like it was a game.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Abby. “But just in case, I’ll keep an eye on you from here.”

“Thanks,” said Evan, leaving the kitchen with a fistful of beers.

“Just what the doctor ordered,” said Grey, taking a bottle.

Evan took the seat across from Grey at the poolside table. He didn’t make eye contact as he opened his beer and took a long drink. He knew it was coming, but he didn’t know how hard. He felt like a kid waiting for his dad to drop the hammer.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” said Grey. “I jumped down your throat today instead of telling you that you did a great job in there. You were fast, focused, and kept a level head. Three things most new FBI agents can’t even do.”

“It’s okay, Grey. I was still a little jazzed up and should’ve kept my mouth shut. I didn’t have to kill anyone; you did.”

“That doesn’t matter,” said Grey. “I was just glad you were there to watch my back. I need to tell you that more often. I know I can be a hard ass, but this wasn’t one of those times I needed to be. You did well, Evan.”

“I appreciate that, Boss. So you couldn’t tell I was scared to death?”

“Not at all,” said Grey, drinking his beer through a smile.

“What are we going to do about Santiago?” asked Evan, taking advantage of his elevated status.

“I have no idea,” replied Grey. “I’m hoping it’ll all come to me in a dream. The harder part is going to be convincing Kate that we need to move her. Too many people know where she is. I don’t care how secure we make this place, her best chance right now is not to be anywhere at all. We need to turn her into a ghost while we sort out our next move.”

“She’ll come around,” said Evan. “She does trust you.”

“We’ll see.”

“I’m gonna hit the sack before Chief shows up with a bottle and tries to kill me again,” said Evan, standing. “I appreciate you talking to me. You were still pretty bad ass out there today. I wouldn’t wanna piss you off.”

“Goodnight, buddy.”

Grey propped up his feet and slid back into his chair. He was looking at the problem at every possible angle. After an hour, he gave up and stared up at the sky, hoping an answer would materialize out of thin air. When he heard the back door open, he closed his eyes and made a wish.

“You have a long drive home,” said Abby. “Why don’t you stay with me tonight?”

“Thank you,” whispered Grey.