by CW Browning
“Yes, we’ve clearly made some bad judgment calls and some mistakes, but guess what? We’re human. Humans make mistakes. We’re not robots like you, working on some kind of ingrained algorithm that only spits out emotion in short bursts. I suppose you’ve never made a bad judgment call? Or trusted the wrong person? Or did something you thought was for the best? Don’t judge us for doing what we thought was best at the time.”
“I’m not judging you for doing what you thought was best,” Damon said calmly, his even tone a direct contrast with her heated and emotional tirade. “I’m judging you for then twisting it around and trying to make Alina responsible for it.”
Stephanie sucked in her breath.
“You’ve got some serious nerve,” she sputtered. “You sit there all night and keep quiet, not getting involved in anything. Then, when you finally do open your mouth, you unleash this attack against me and Angela, and even John! He’s not even here anymore to defend himself!”
“He doesn’t need to defend himself. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, or anything that was disrespectful to the dead. I simply stated facts.”
“But we don’t have all the facts! We don’t know why he didn’t tell anyone about the letters. He may have had a valid reason to keep it to himself.”
Damon shrugged.
“Maybe,” he said in a tone guaranteed to feed the flames of her anger, “but if he had told Lina about them, we wouldn’t be here now. It would never have come to this.”
“You keep saying ‘we’ like you’re working with Lina,” Angela pointed out. “If you don’t work together, I still don’t understand why you’re jumping into this. I mean, Blake and Michael aren’t getting involved. Why are you?”
“Yes, why are you?” Stephanie demanded, her temper goaded beyond reason. “Dave didn’t even know you, and you have no responsibility to me or Angela. What does any of this have to do with you? Alina’s the one who should be having this conversation, not you. Why are you suddenly so involved in Jersey drama? From what I’ve seen over the past year, you all work alone and take care of yourselves. So why are you suddenly so determined to go to bat for Lina?”
Damon looked across the room calmly.
“Because she’s my wife.”
Chapter Sixteen
Frankie Solitto poured whiskey into two cut glasses and set the decanter down, replacing the glass topper. Turning, he carried them across the room and handed one to the man sitting in an armchair in his study.
“It’s been a long time,” he said. “I’m glad you agreed to come tonight.”
The man took the glass, a diamond ring on his middle finger flashing in the lamplight.
“It has been a long time,” he agreed, sipping the whiskey appreciatively. “Business has been challenging in the past months, and I was grateful for this chance to get away for a few hours.”
The head of the Jersey Family glanced over his shoulder as he moved to the other armchair.
“That doesn’t sound good,” he murmured, seating himself and crossing one leg over the other. “I’ve never known you to stress over business, Bobby. Is it something I can help with?”
Bobby Reyes considered Frankie thoughtfully for a moment.
“Actually, I was going to contact you when you reached out to me,” he said slowly. “I believe you may have some knowledge that might help.”
Frankie sipped his whiskey, studying Bobby over the rim of the glass. He’d known Bobby for years and, at one point in time, they were competitors and rivals. Twenty years ago, after more bloodshed than either of them cared to admit to, they came to a truce. Bobby Reyes would have exclusive control over the arms distribution from New Jersey down to Washington DC. In return, the Solitto family businesses would remain untouched by Bobby, and Frankie received a yearly stipend to stay out of Bobby’s business. As part of that agreement, Frankie negotiated a pact with the New York family, allowing Bobby Reyes a thirty percent margin on the arms deals in New York.
The arrangement had worked out to be very lucrative to all parties concerned, and over the past twenty years, Bobby and Frankie had become friends. In that time, Frankie had never known Bobby to come to him for counsel.
“What seems to be the problem?” he asked, lowering his glass.
“Last fall, there were rumors that you had a challenger for some of your business endeavors in New Jersey.”
Frankie raised his eyebrows. “And what did those rumors say?”
“That the Casa Reinos Cartel was trying to move into the area. If that had happened, at a conservative estimate, over fifty percent of your revenue would have been taken out from under you.”
“I wouldn’t call that a conservative estimate,” Frankie said with a faint smile. “However, the rest of the evaluation may be accurate. Luckily, it was taken care of.”
Bobby nodded. “So I heard, and that’s why I’m here. I’m facing a similar problem now.”
Frankie frowned sharply. “The cartel?”
“Four months ago, they began moving weapons up the coast. Instead of using my network, they’re using their own people. They’ve established connections with the gangs in Philadelphia, Newark, Trenton and Atlantic City. In doing so, they’re undercutting my own agreements.”
“By how much?”
“Forty-five percent,” Bobby said grimly.
Frankie’s lips twisted unpleasantly.
“That is unacceptable,” he said. “What are you doing to correct the situation?”
“One of my senior boys is in Newark. He’s the one who tipped me off four months ago. It was his gang that first started dealing with the cartel. When he told me, I told him to stay put and learn what he could. Two months ago, three cartel members moved into the gang. My boy has since become very tight with them.”
Frankie nodded in approval. “That’s good. What has he learned?”
Bobby sipped his whiskey and shook his head with a frown.
“The Casa Reinos expect to have full control from Miami to Boston within the year, including the drug stream.”
“And just how do they plan on doing that?”
“They have someone in Washington.”
Frankie waved his hand impatiently.
“So do we,” he said briskly. “They’ll need more than that to take on the Three Families.”
“Unfortunately, they may have it,” Bobby said. “From what my boy has been able to put together, it seems the cartel has managed to amass an army within the gangs. Some will side with us, if it comes down to it, but the general consensus is that the majority of the Hispanic and Mexican demographic won’t go against the cartel. There is, however, a weak spot that we can exploit if we move quickly.”
Frankie raised his eyebrows in interest. “Oh?”
Bobby nodded. “Last fall, Jenaro Gomez, the cartel’s second-in-command, was killed here in Jersey. His head was FedEx’d to La Cabeza, the head of the cartel.”
“I believe I heard something to that effect,” Frankie murmured, a faint smile on his lips.
Bobby looked at him and chuckled.
“I have to tell you, Frankie, I laughed when I heard the news. I never would have pegged you as having such a dramatic flair.”
“And you would be right,” Frankie told him after a short pause. “I had nothing to do with Jenaro.”
Bobby stared at him in surprise. “What? Then who did?”
Frankie was silent for a long moment, his lips pressed together thoughtfully. Then, coming to a decision, he raised his eyes to Bobby’s.
“Someone who is far more dangerous than the cartel,” he said softly.
Bobby frowned and studied Frankie intently.
“Is there a new player I should be aware of?” he finally asked, his voice hard.
Frankie finished his whiskey and stood up to go refill his glass.
“No,” he said over his shoulder. “Not a new player, per se. More of an...ally, if you will.”
“Well, this ally has a target on their bac
k,” Bobby told him. “Some of the members of the cartel have become convinced that the person who killed their lieutenant is still in the Philadelphia area.”
Frankie poured the amber liquid into his glass and set the decanter down gently.
“Is that a fact?” he said softly, turning to face Bobby. “And do you believe this information?”
Bobby shrugged.
“I didn’t pay much attention to it, to be honest, until yesterday,” he said. “You saw what happened in Center City?”
Frankie went back to his seat and sat down, nodding.
“Two men were stabbed in Independence Park,” he said. “Not worth all the fuss, in my opinion. People are stabbed every day.”
“Agreed, but it raises a serious question.”
“In what way?”
“In light of what you just told me, what the cartel members are saying is beginning to make more sense,” Bobby said, leaning forward. “When I first heard about their contract on the person who killed Jenaro, I assumed that person was you or your enforcer, Stefan. If you had nothing to do with it, we’re looking at a whole different situation.”
“And what situation is that?”
“I know you don’t pay much attention to what goes on out in cyberspace, but in this instance, you may want to. A few days ago, an open letter was released onto the dark web. That letter named an American assassin, along with her recent targets. Jenaro Gomez was on that list.”
Frankie’s face was impassive as he sipped his whiskey.
“And what was the point to this open letter?”
“As far as I can tell, it was simply to motivate someone to whack her. It gave her last known locations and even included a surveillance photo. When this was brought to my attention, it had nothing to do with me, but now I’m starting to think that it might. If this assassin truly is the one who killed Jenaro Gomez, then it isn’t too much of a stretch to assume that she’s also responsible for the two stabbings in Philadelphia yesterday.”
“What makes you think the attack in Independence Park was a professional hit?”
Bobby shrugged. “Two men of Middle Eastern descent, killed at the same time in two different buildings, and no one saw a thing? It certainly wasn’t a crime of passion.”
Frankie smiled despite himself.
“Fair enough,” he murmured. “So if we assume it was this assassin from the open letter, and I’m not convinced it was, what does this have to do with your situation with the cartel?”
Bobby sat back and crossed his legs.
“If the cartel is busy focusing on Jenaro’s killer, they won’t be looking over their shoulder.”
“Presenting us with an opportunity.”
Bobby nodded. “Exactly.”
Frankie sipped his whiskey and was silent, deep in thought. The open letter was a surprise, but he supposed it shouldn’t have been. This was not the first time his mysterious assassin-associate had been targeted. He pressed his lips together thoughtfully. Right now he owed the woman a debt. While they had agreed that she could call in a favor to erase that debt at an unspecified time in the future, Frankie was a practical man. If he was able to eliminate this latest complication for her, then he would have one of the most dangerous people he had ever met in his debt. That could come in very handy.
He set his glass down on the table beside his chair and reached into his pocket to pull out his cell phone. He swiped the screen and pressed a button, sending a quick text.
“I think it’s time for Stefan to join us,” he said.
“I agree. How do you want to handle this?”
“It’s past time for the Casa Reinos to be sent a message,” Frankie said firmly. “I thought, after last fall, the message would have been clear. Obviously, they need a reminder of who they’re dealing with. When Stefan comes in, give him a list of the cartel names. We’ll start with them.”
“Is Stefan up to it? These aren’t little punks from the Bronx.”
“Stefan is my chief enforcer for good reason,” Frankie said evenly. “He’ll handle them.”
“If you focus on the cartel members, I can focus on the gang members most likely to oppose us,” Bobby said. “Once we make an example of the cartel and their most loyal supporters, it won’t take much to get the gangs in line again.”
Frankie nodded in approval.
“This is a situation that’s been brewing for months,” he said. “As soon as New Jersey became a sanctuary state, this was bound to happen. It’s created an internal competition between us and these young outsiders who don’t understand how business is conducted here. It’s time they learn.”
“And the assassin?”
“There’s no need to concern yourself with that. Once we take care of the cartel and their allies, the assassin won’t be an issue.”
Alina stood at the window, staring into the night thoughtfully. The moon was high, peeping through the clouds above and casting a pale glow over the back yard. As she stood there, the shower in the bathroom turned off, and she lifted a bottle to her lips, sipping the cool water.
Damon’s announcement, delivered as it was, had caused nothing short of an uproar. At first, Stephanie and Angela had refused to believe it. Alina supposed she couldn’t blame them. After all, there had been no warning and no indication that the relationship between herself and Damon was anything serious, at least, as far as they were aware. It was only after Alina confirmed that they had been married last month by a judge in Washington, DC that they began to accept the truth.
Alina capped her water bottle and set it on the sill, staring blindly out the window. They didn’t understand the secrecy, or the rush, and she couldn’t fault them for that. They didn’t know, and could never understand, just how complicated it was. For that matter, Alina wasn’t sure she fully comprehended it herself. While Asad was planning his Ebola attack, and Viper was patiently waiting for the traitor in Washington to reveal his hand, Hawk had convinced her that what they had between them was worth risking everything over. In a moment of pure insanity next to a remote lake in the Pine Barrens, he’d proposed that they secure their future and their assets in the most fool-proof way available to them. To her own surprise, she’d agreed.
It wasn’t a marriage based on undying love, although Alina was beginning to suspect that that was a very real possibility. Rather, it was a union based on the undeniable fact that they both needed a legal safety net, and marriage provided that. Most of their work for the Organization could be considered a federal offense, and if a Congressional committee ever got hold of either of them, they could conceivably force them to testify against other assets, including each other. If, in the more likely scenario, one of them was killed, then the other would have access to their combined assets. In that case, the surviving spouse would be able to retire and disappear without a trace.
In its basic form, their marriage was a business arrangement.
In its non-basic form, it was far more complicated than that, Alina admitted ruefully. That night next to the lake, she had let Damon into a part of her life that she had kept isolated and to herself for years. In doing so, she thought there might be no going back. Less than twenty-four hours later, she was his wife, and she knew the truth. They were bound together for life, and not simply because it was the financially and politically safe course of action, but because neither of them could deny their connection any longer. They were two halves of the same person, and that was something they couldn’t ignore. From the time she’d signed the legal form making her his wife, Alina had known it was much more than a business arrangement. The weeks that followed had only confirmed it.
The bathroom door opened behind her and light flooded into the dark room. Damon came out, dressed in an old pair of Navy sweatpants and nothing else. He went over to the bedside table and laid his Beretta down before walking over to stand behind her at the window.
“On a scale of one to ten, how mad at me are you right now?” he asked, his voice low as he looked over the to
p of her head into the darkness.
Alina glanced over her shoulder at him. “Ten being the highest?”
His eyes dropped to hers and he nodded, his lips twisting ruefully.
“Yes.”
She turned her head back to look out the window and shrugged.
“Less than two,” she replied. “It had to come out sooner or later. At least you made it interesting.”
A low chuckle went through him. “Yes I did.”
Alina felt herself smile. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on Stephanie’s face when she finally realized it was true.”
Damon slipped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on top of her head. She leaned back against him and they stood quietly for a long moment, staring out over the dark trees.
“How are you feeling about it?” Damon finally asked, lifting his chin but keeping his arms around her. “Tonight is the first time I’ve actually heard you acknowledge it.”
Alina was quiet for a moment, then she sighed softly.
“I’m surprisingly comfortable with it,” she admitted. “I’ve had time to adjust to the idea. And let’s face it, you’ve hardly been crowding me since it happened. Getting it out into the open tonight just seemed like the next logical step.”
“I’m sorry I announced it without discussing it with you first,” Damon said slowly. “I didn’t plan for that to happen.”
“I understand.” Alina hesitated, then turned in his arms and looked up into his handsome face. “Stephanie was being unreasonable, but she was right about one thing. This isn’t your fight.”
Damon’s eyes met hers and his expression was unreadable in the moonlight.
“Harry isn’t just after you. He’s targeting all the Organization’s assets, all over the globe. This is all of our fight.”
Alina lifted her hand to touch his jaw.
“Yes, but I’m the one he wants. Go somewhere away from this and let me join you when I’m done.” She pressed her fingers against his lips when he opened them to speak. “Listen to me. When you proposed this marriage, you said that if anything happened to one of us, the other would be taken care of. If we’re both killed in this mess, then what was the point? The government will get everything, and this will all have been for nothing. Be smart about this, Hawk. We may be stronger together, but you’ll be safer apart from me right now.”