The Santini Vendetta

by Christopher Fox

  Lorenzo called Alberto.

  “Lorenzo,” Alberto said when he answered the phone.

  “I guess you win,” Lorenzo feigned defeat. “But I cannot raise $10m—most of our assets are not liquid and we don’t have that kind of cash available on short notice.”

  Bullshit, thought Alberto. They deal in large amounts of cash for their drug, prostitution and gambling businesses. They have more of a problem laundering the money than anything else.

  “So, what are you proposing?”

  “Two million.” Lorenzo said and went quiet.

  “No deal,” said Alberto. “You are in no position to bargain with me. I still have your family and make no mistake, I will carry out my threats.”

  “That’s my best offer,” he said.

  “I’ll get back to you,” Alberto said and pressed the ‘end’ key.

  “Bring everyone back to the hotel,” Alberto announced. “Tell the hotel guests to check out when they get here. The staff are to remain. Load Peppe and his family back in the SUV and put them in the honeymoon suite.”

  Seven

  Lorenzo called Kyle and advised him someone will pick him up in the afternoon at 2:00 p.m. and bring him to his office. It was a statement and not a request, so Kyle stood outside the hotel and waited for the driver. Lorenzo showed anger after receiving a text at the restaurant last night. He returned his phone to him without revealing what the text was all about. But Kyle called Alberto and got the lowdown. So, he did try a rescue operation that failed—that would explain the anger. He wondered now what the meeting was for this afternoon.

  The limo arrived, and the doorman opened the back door for Kyle. Once in and the door closed, the driver headed downtown.

  Kyle repeated the procedure to access Lorenzo’s office and now sat in the same wing-back chair.

  “Where do we go from here?” Kyle said, crossing one leg over the other. He knew that Lorenzo had offered only $2m and Alberto did not accept.

  “I’m calling Alberto again and see if he has accepted my offer. I want you here to talk some sense into him.”

  “Why would he listen to me?”

  “Maybe he has more respect and trust in you than he does me.”

  “Maybe?” Kyle snorted.

  Lorenzo ignored the comment and called Alberto.

  “Yes Lorenzo,” Alberto said.

  “I have Kyle here with me and am putting the phone on speaker.” Lorenzo touched a key and set the phone on the desk.

  “Alberto,” said Kyle.

  “Kyle,” the tinny voice from the speaker announced. “How are things in Chicago? The Santinis treating you well?”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “Enough small talk,” Lorenzo said. “I want this situation resolved so we can each go about our businesses. I have made you a very respectable offer. So, how about it?”

  “It seems,” the disembodied voice said, “that I am not making myself clear in that I demand, not request, demand, the full ten million dollars. To stress my demand, I have your daughter-in-law and three grandchildren in front of me. I will let you choose which one is to die.”

  Kyle’s face took on a look of complete shock.

  “Alberto,” Kyle said. “These are innocent people. You can’t just shoot women and children to further your goals.”

  “Done all the time, my friend. The Santinis had no qualms about shooting innocent people to further their goals.”

  “But that makes you no better than they are,” Kyle pleaded.

  “I am no better than they are. Fight fire with fire.” Anger crept into Alberto's voice. “Choose, Lorenzo.”

  “I will not choose someone for you to shoot. For Christ’s sake, don’t do this. You have the men who shot your father and one is dead already.”

  “Eenie, meeny, miny, moe,” said Alberto.

  “Don’t do this Alberto,” Kyle pleaded again. “Please…”

  A shot rang out, followed by a woman's scream.

  “Jesus Christ!” Kyle exclaimed. He glanced at Lorenzo and the look of horror on his face.

  “I’m sorry to say,” the voice announced, “that you have one less grandson. Now, about the ten million.”

  “You bastard,” cried Lorenzo. “You damned bastard. You’ve shot my grandson?”

  A distraught female voice through the speaker, “Pappa, it’s Gloria,” she said in tears. Gloria is Peppe’s wife and Lorenzo’s daughter-in-law. “He shot Angelo. My God. He shot Angelo.”

  Alberto’s voice came from the speaker.

  “You have two more grandchildren to go before your daughter-in-law, then we’ll work on Peppe. Can I count on you to get together the ten million dollars by Tuesday?”

  “Yes, yes,” Lorenzo said in a daze, then looked at Kyle. “He shot my grandson. The bastard shot my grandson.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” said Kyle, visibly shaking. “I…I never thought he would do it. I thought it was just a bluff.”

  “What do I tell Lucy?” Lucy is Lorenzo’s wife, although not Peppe’s mother. Lorenzo did not appear the hard-ass person he always portended to be. He somehow looked frail and every bit of his seventy-two years.

  “He shot my grandson,” he said again. “He shot my dear Angelo. My God. He was only seven.”

  “I’m so sorry about all this,” Kyle said, himself finding it all hard to believe. “It’s so tragic.” The expression—live by the sword; die by the sword—came to his mind, and he thought how appropriate it was. Lorenzo had spent a lifetime being responsible either directly or indirectly for people’s death. Now he will experience the grief so many of his victims faced.

  * * * *

  Kyle accompanied Lorenzo to pick up the $10m. They used an armoured truck that had to make several stops as no one bank carried that amount of cash. It was dispensed in $100 bills and weighed 100 kg, taking up four cubic metres of space. Each stack of $100 bills ($100,000) measured just over 100 mm and there were 100 stacks. This fit into five gym bags containing 20 stacks and each bag weighed 20 kg. They drove the money to the airport and loaded it onto the Gulfstream jet. Kyle boarded the plane and Louie, with his co-pilot Andrew, manoeuvred the sleek jet to the runway, then accelerated to take-off speed and climbed into the air.

  Kyle reflected on the actions the other night when Alberto had shot Lorenzo’s grandson. Many innocent people die and for what? Where does it end? Will Lorenzo allow Alberto to get the better of him? Kyle figured not. He knew that if it were him, and someone shot one of his family, he would spend the rest of his life hunting down the killer. He felt helpless when Casey's ex-husband shot her, because police shot him dead at the scene. Had that not been the case, Kyle would surely exact revenge. However, you don't know how you will react unless put in that position.

  Kyle napped once they reached cruising altitude, and he remembered little until shaken awake by bad turbulence. He checked his watch and determined that there was only an hour and fifteen minutes remained to touchdown. He visited the washroom to refresh himself and then returned to his seat and picked up a magazine stacked in the rack beside him. It was a travel magazine and Kyle reminded himself that he needed to get away for a while. The hotel had kept him busy over the last several months and he needed a vacation.

  * * * *

  Alberto stood on the apron waiting for the Gulfstream and the money. Kyle stepped from the plane and the heat and humidity immediately blasted him. Alberto’s men were already loading the gym bags into the Chevy Suburban and Kyle watched as Peppe got out of one side of the vehicle, followed by a young girl, maybe four year’s old. Peppe walked around and opened the door for Gloria. Gloria stepped out, again holding the infant in her arms. Then a seven-year-old boy stepped out. Kyle looked at Alberto, his jaw agape.

  “Did you think I am such an animal as to shoot a child?”

  “Well, n-no,” stuttered Kyle. “But…but Gloria…”

  “Yes, she put on quite the act, didn�
��t she?”

  “But why? Why would she fake that you shot her son?”

  “I really didn’t give her an alternative. She had to act it or experience it for real.”

  “And if she hadn’t?”

  “But she did.”

  Obviously, he was not going to give Kyle the satisfaction of knowing whether he would have shot the child if she did not cooperate. But, no mother would risk her child's life and would do whatever necessary to spare him or her.

  Kyle’s assessment of Alberto improved now he knew he was not the kind of man to harm an innocent person to further his gains, especially a child.

  “The Santinis are the animals in this game, not me,” said Alberto. “I was merely resorting to their methods to get restitution.”

  “And did you? Get restitution, that is.”

  “Yes, I did. The man who shot my father is now dead and I have ten million dollars to compensate many of the people caught up in Santini’s ruthless operations. Many young women, my sister included, were forced to work as prostitutes in their bars and nightclubs, many of them being abused and enticed onto drugs. I managed to contact many of these families and they offered to help me put together this operation, in return for some compensation for the pain and suffering they had to endure at the hands of the Santinis. Some lost daughters to drug overdoses while others mysteriously disappeared. Yes, I got some restitution, although none of it will erase the painful memories of those family members lost.”

  Kyle listened to Alberto’s tale of woe and couldn’t help feeling sympathetic. Would he have reacted in a similar fashion? It’s hard to say.

  Alberto reached into one of the bags and came up with a wad of $100 bills, which he tossed to Kyle.

  “I’m sorry about the damage to your hotel resulting from the raid,” he said. “Hopefully, this should cover your expenses. Thanks for everything.”

  Kyle stood there somewhat bewildered, looking at the wad of bills, knowing it was $100,000, and didn’t know what to say.

  * * * *

  Kyle awoke to the bright rays of sun entering the room–he had neglected to close the drapes. He looked at the bedside clock–it read 6:56–and decided it was time to get up anyway. After completing his morning routine, he went to the restaurant for breakfast. He wondered if Anna had arrived yet–she usually came in before 8, sometimes as early as 7. She lived in Parrita, about 30 minutes from the hotel.

  “Buenos Días,” the cheerful voice said from behind him.

  Kyle recognized the voice and his face lit up. “Anna,” he said getting up from his chair. He turned and almost gave her a peck on the cheek, thinking better of it in front of staff. “Have you had breakfast yet?” He gestured to the chair for her to join him. She sat, but only sideways on the chair–she wasn’t staying.

  “Yes, I ate. How was your trip?”

  Kyle did not tell her why he went to Chicago, just saying it was ‘business’.

  “Great… everything turned out well.”

  “That’s wonderful. Will you have time to go over the financials today? They have to go to the accountants this week.”

  “Sure. I’ll come and see you later today. I have urgent matters to attend to right now.”

  “OK, see you later,” she said and headed for the door.

  “I’ll call you when I’m ready,” Kyle said to her back. She gave a perfunctory wave, but did not turn around.

  * * * *

  By the time Kyle cleared his backlog of work, and could see Anna, it was close to 3:00 p.m.

  “Sorry things took so long,” he said as he entered Anna’s office.

  “No problem,” she said and moved her chair to the side of her desk. This allowing Kyle to pull over the other chair in her office so both could see her computer screen. She tapped on the keys and various screens from the QuickBooks software appeared. It was a good year with profits increased substantially from last year. This is good for his planned addition later this year. Occupancy year over year had shown an upward trend and many times they had to turn away potential guests because they were full.

  It was getting dark when they finished and she asked him to go for a walk with her on the beach, which he was glad to do. They each removed their shoes and walked through the warm surf as it washed up onto the sand.

  Kyle tried to think of non-work-related subjects, yet didn’t want to pry into her private life. “How’s the young lad doing? How old is he now?”

  “Oh, Alphonse? He’s fine. He’s nearly two now. I think he thinks the nanny is his mom,” she chuckled. “I don’t see him much during the week. By the time I get home he’s usually in bed.”

  Kyle felt a pang of guilt because things were exceptionally busy at the hotel and he needed her there. “That’s… that’s unfortunate,” was all he could muster to say. He wanted to reach for her but refrained.

  Every now and again, Anna stooped to pick up a shell and inspect it before tossing it back onto the beach. The setting sun created wonderful hues of red as it painted the wisps of clouds that draped the sky. When they had reached the rock outcrop and could go no further, they turned and proceeded back to the hotel. As the light faded she reached for his hand. Her hand felt so soft and sensual in his that it aroused him, and he didn’t like where this was going–but he wasn’t going to stop it.

  “Things are not good at home,” she confided. “My husband is becoming very abusive and I am afraid for Alphonse.”

  He pulled her closer to him and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder.

  “Kyle?” she said, looking at her feet as the surf gently washed over them. “You must know my feelings for you. I sense that you feel the same way too. I so look forward to coming here and seeing you each day.”

  Kyle was afraid to answer–afraid to admit that he had the same feelings. He frequently considered allowing his emotions to develop, but always came to the same conclusion—it was wrong. But this was different now. Anna had now confessed her feelings to him, which was not the same as just suspecting them.

  “Anna?” he said, stopping and facing her with his hands on her shoulders. “I do have strong feelings for you and have since you first walked in the door, but it was just infatuation then and I was confident I could be professional about it and keep it in perspective. I don’t think I can now—it’s not infatuation anymore.”

  He pulled her to him and gave her an affectionate hug, savouring the sweet smell of her as he buried his face in her hair.

  “My husband suspects I have affections for someone else,” she said, trying to hold back the tears. “I don’t know what to do. He is a very powerful man in Costa Rica and can cause mucho trouble for you.” Her husband, Don Ameche, was Deputy Director of Tourism, and could indeed create problems for Kyle’s business.

  Kyle could hear her sobs and caressed her back. He held her by the shoulders and eased her body away from his, then placed a hand under her chin and turned her face up toward his. Whether it was the slight breeze swaying the palms; the rhythmic sound of the waves lapping on the shore; the incredible beauty in Anna’s face; the glow of the reddening sky shining in her hair and highlighting the streaks of tears on her cheeks—but he could not resist kissing her full on the mouth. She responded with a slightly open mouth, into which Kyle eased the tip of his tongue. It was greeted by Anna’s warm and moist tongue, as they lowered themselves to a kneeling position on the soft sand, then fell sideways in a passionate embrace.

  Kyle had misgivings about what was happening and felt he may be taking advantage of Anna, who was very vulnerable now. He tried to break the embrace, but Anna cried, “Please, please, take me now Kyle. Please don’t stop.” God, she felt so good, but something again told him this was wrong, however, if they were going to do this it would be prudent to do so behind closed doors, but he was reluctant to take her back to his room.

  “I think we need to get off the beach,” he said breaking the embrace and getting to his feet. He helped Anna
get up and she brushed the sand from her clothes as Kyle led her to one of the cabanas that lined the beach. Once inside, he reached for her and they embraced again, passionately kissing and fondling each other. She reached for him and stroked him through the thin shorts. When he was fully erect, she moved her hand up, and then reached inside his shorts. He gasped at the touch of her hand on him, and reached under her skirt, manipulating his hand between the silk panties and the even smoother skin. They moved towards the large padded lounge and lay down, not breaking the embrace, kicking off their shoes as they did so. It had been some time since Kyle had experienced sex, and then only for biological release, but the pent-up feelings for Anna were now welling up inside of him. He wanted her…more than he had ever wanted anyone in his life. Not satisfied with feeling her through fabric, he systematically removed what few articles of clothing she was wearing…blouse, skirt, bra and panties…and revelled in her nakedness enhanced by the fading twilight of the setting sun. Kyle began to undress but Anna said in a sultry voice, “No, let me.”

  She knelt on the mattress and gazed into Kyle's eyes while she slowly undid the buttons of his shirt, peeling it off to reveal his bare chest. Kyle sported a six-pack of abs from his rigorous exercise program and swirls of black hair on his pectorals. Meanwhile, Kyle explored Anna's naked body with his hands as she moved to undo his shorts, pulling them down to his knees. Kyle sat back and removed the shorts and underwear and pulled Anna down on top of him. They both let their hands wander over the other’s body while kissing passionately. He was now beyond the point of no return—beyond the point of rational thinking. His inborn carnal desire took over as he rolled over on top of her—and in less than a minute it was over.

  Kyle rolled back onto the mattress and stared at the star-studded sky visible through the blowing curtains of the cabana, the reality of the situation setting in. She was not only an employee, but married with a young child. How could he allow this to happen? He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He thought he was in love with her–yes, he was in love with her–but he did not want to be responsible for breaking up her marriage. It was like history repeating itself. He had flashbacks of Casey and Bobby and the circumstances surrounding that broken marriage. And, of course, there was her husband’s position that could make things very difficult for Kyle’s hotel.