by Jack Davis
Once Lupe had begrudgingly taken his seat, Alvaro continued. “Boss, you and I know that Severino wouldn’t do this on his own. He has too much to lose, and what would he gain? Someone must have put him up to it, or he joined MS-13.”
Diamond thrust out his chin and nodded in what looked to Alvaro like a video he’d seen of Italian dictator Mussolini.
“I don’t think he could have joined MS-13 without his Philippe knowing. Since Philippe hasn’t said anything to any of you three, I don’t think that was it.”
Diamond continued to nod until Lupe rose from the couch. “We should ask Philippe. He knows Severino best. I’ll go call him and ask.”
Now even Diamond thought Lupe was acting odd. “Sit down, we can call him later.” He gestured for Alvaro to continue.
“I can only believe Severino was told to do it, but by who? Who could gain from something like this that almost got us into a war with MS-13,” asked Alvaro, now suspecting the answer.
Diamond had stopped nodding, and now shrugged his shoulders.
“I know, Jefe, this is confusing. Who could gain from a war between us and MS-13? It would only weaken all of us.” Alvaro paused and then stood. “I think Pepe can help us get the answer.”
Now everyone except Alvaro was thoroughly confused.
“Pepe couldn’t pour water out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel,” joked Carlos.
Alvaro noted that everyone laughed except Lupe.
“Pepe? You really think he’s involved? Why? How?” Diamond’s almost pleading questions showed genuine concern for the lumbering giant who had been with him for so long.
“Jefe, we need Pepe in here,” said Alvaro confidently.
Diamond picked up the phone and rang the bartender. “Get Pepe.”
As he hung up, Alvaro started down the final logic path. “What would Severino get out of a war with MS-13? Nothing. Who could gain?”
As he finished the question, there was a knock on the door that shook the hinges.
“Come in.”
Pepe opened the door. His bulk filled the doorframe as he ambled into the room.
“You need me, boss?”
Diamond was about to say something when Alvaro reiterated his last question, to no one in particular. “Who would benefit from a war between us and MS 13? A war that would hurt us all, but most of all weaken you.” He looked straight into Diamond’s eyes and then at the couch. “Only two people would gain anything from you being weakened.” He looked at Carlo and Lupe. “They are both sitting here.”
Both men were shocked.
“You accuse me of trying to—”
Carlo’s question was cut off by Lupe’s threat. “I’ll fucking cut your balls off.” He rose and reached for a knife in his boot.
Pepe stepped in front of Lupe, his huge hand immobilizing the former’s arm. He looked at Diamond. “Jefe?”
“Take his knife and sit him down,” he shouted, taking a revolver from his desk.
Diamond pointed the gun at Alvaro. “I’ve known these men for longer than you’ve been alive. They saved my life before you were born. I don’t believe either would betray me. If you are lying, I’ll kill you and everyone you love.”
Alvaro knew Diamond meant what he said. He had to act immediately. “Boss, I’ll prove it. Let me have their phones.”
Diamond looked from Alvaro to his two friends on the couch. Alvaro could sense his boss’s anger at having been put in this difficult position. He knew he needed a final push.
“I can prove it one way or the other in less than five minutes.”
Alvaro’s logic and Diamond’s suspicious nature seized the moment.
“Pepe, take their phones.”
“This is bullshit,” shouted Lupe. He looked from Alvaro to Diamond. “You know me. Are you going to believe this little bastard or me?”
“If you haven’t done anything, you have nothing to worry about,” said Alvaro.
“Give Pepe your phone,” ordered Diamond. Carlo sneered at Alvaro but didn’t hesitate to hand the phone to Pepe.
Lupe balked.
“Your phones!” Diamond’s demand was more forceful the second time.
Alvaro saw Lupe wince as Pepe squeezed the arm. He groaned as more pressure was applied. Reluctantly he took out his phone and handed it to Pepe. His arm released, he rubbed it vigorously.
Once Pepe had done as ordered, golem-like, he looked at Diamond for his next set of instructions.
“Give them to Varo,” snapped Diamond.
Alvaro took both phones but set Carlo’s on the desk. He looked at Diamond. “Remember when you told me to get every boss a phone and make sure they couldn’t be traced?”
Diamond nodded.
“I did that.” Alvaro started to take the back off Lupe’s phone. “I also put a recording device in every phone except yours.”
Alvaro saw shock on everyone’s face, especially Lupe’s. Alvaro carefully removed what everyone else in the room thought was some type of recording device, but was in fact just the battery, and held it up as if in triumph.
“So now all I have to do is put this in my phone, and I can play a recording of all Lupe’s phone calls.”
All eyes turned to Lupe. Alvaro’s bluff had worked.
Lupe’s face went white with fear. He shuddered. “It was Philippe. It was his idea.” He looked at Diamond, desperation in his eyes. “Manuel. Please! Please! I’ll do anything.” He started to sob.
“I’ll…” Diamond rose from his desk, gun in hand.
Lupe was on his knees crawling behind the desk, clutching at Diamond’s feet. “Please, Manuel! Mercy. I’ll do anything. Pleeeease.”
“Jefe, I think we need Lupe a little longer, to help with Philippe, and anyone else who’s involved. I’m sure Pepe can make him help.”
The Mexico City traffic was making it hard for Philippe to concentrate. The call from his boss and fellow conspirator was brief but troubling. “Alvaro knows something. Call Severino and get over here!” Now, as he raced to the Lupe’s cantina, he was having trouble thinking clearly.
Alvaro must die, but he can’t just be killed, he has to…“Fuck you!” bellowed Philippe as he was cut off trying to merge…Alvaro must die but while Diamond is still in charge, we can’t just kill him…he has to disappear. Yeah, he can…Philippe slammed on the brakes to avoid plowing into the car in front of him at the red light…disappear, it happens all the time in Mexico City to gang members. We can blame it on MS-13. Diamond will fuckin’ flip if he thinks they killed his favorite captain. That will start the war for sure. Philippe smiled to himself. Who’s the smart one now you fuckin’ prick?
Philippe spent the rest of the drive trying to come up with the best place to take Alvaro off. The only option he came up with was Alvaro’s condo. It was the only place he wouldn’t have his men around, and his guard would be down.
The thought of Alvaro’s family flitted through Philippe’s mind. If they’re home everyone dies together, maybe after a little fun with the wife.
Philippe was preoccupied with how to pin Alvaro’s death on MS-13 as he walked across the parking lot of Lupe’s cantina.
He looked for Severino’s car. Not here yet, shit.
It was going to be harder than he’d first imagined during the drive, especially if they killed him where he lived; it was some type of high-rise building.
Philippe was looking down as he stepped up on the porch and then bumped into the man at the front door. “Get the fuck outta my way shithead.” He shoved the King against the side of the building with a thud.
Fuck, this could be harder to pin on MS-13 than I thought. Maybe his whole family disappears, and we make Diamond believe Alvaro ratted-us-out? Yeah…
Philippe pushed the door open without knocking. “Lupe, I’ve got an idea but…”
A huge fist knocked Philippe to the ground. Through eyes that watered uncontrollably, he saw Alvaro sitting with his boots up on Lupe’s desk.
Philippe’s ar
ms were suddenly pinned. He looked up to see the giant Pepe holding him down. He couldn’t breathe as the enormous man’s weight pressed him against the linoleum floor.
“What?”
A rag was thrust in his mouth and quickly tied around his head. Once completely immobilized with zip ties around his arms and legs, he was dragged over to Alvaro and dumped on the floor. From the corner of his left eye he could see Alvaro’s legs.
His nemesis squatted next to him. “This is for Jose Tejada.”
Diamond made Alvaro and the other captains witness the end of the “talk” with Lupe, Philippe, and Severino. Alvaro was glad when it was over.
Once back on the main floor of the warehouse where the executions had taken place, Diamond walked up to Alvaro and fixed his gaze.
“Varo do you think everyone…got the message?”
Alvaro’s gulp was audible. “Yes, Jefe, we did.”
“Excellent, then our work here is just about done.”
Then, in what Alvaro could only assume was a fatherly gesture, a burly arm went around his shoulder.
“Varo, you’re too soft. If you’re ever going to be in charge, you must toughen up. You have to be able to do this and not think about it anymore.”
He felt Diamond’s heavy arm pull him closer. “But you don’t have to worry about that for a while, do you?”
“I hope not.”
Diamond smiled, his pale green teeth and stale breath too close to be avoided. “You always know what to say.” Diamond laughed.
In the next second, the smile remained, but there was something very different behind it. “You didn’t put one of those recording things in my phone, did you?”
“No, Jefe. I would never do that to you.”
Alvaro couldn’t gauge the look now.
“Good. Good. But just to be sure, give me your phone. I’m going to use it from now on.”
Now it was Alvaro’s turn to smile. His boss was craftier than he’d given him credit for. “Smart.”
“You don’t get to where I am if you’re dumb,” said Diamond as he accepted Alvaro’s phone. “You also don’t get to where I am without rewarding people who help you. I want you to have Philippe’s territory.”
“Jefe, that’s very generous. Thank you. I’ll make sure it keeps producing for you.”
“I’m sure you will,” said Diamond, his voice strangely dismissive. He stopped walking and stared into Alvaro’s eyes. “I also want you to take Lupe’s place.”
Alvaro stammered. “Jefe. I, I don’t know what to say.” He paused uncomfortably. “It’s an honor.” His mind whirled. After two complicated years of trying to distance himself from the Kings, now he was being thrust in its very bowels. He mentally scrambled for any escape. “You honor me with your faith. I’ll need a little time though.”
Diamond’s bushy eyebrows interlocked as he furrowed his brow. “For what?”
“I want to set up Philippe’s territory for credit cards too. It will take a while to teach his people how to do things, so they don’t get caught and cause you problems. Then you’ll have two territories pulling in credit card money.” Alvaro hoped Diamond’s greed would buy him some time.
“How long?”
Knowing Diamond had no idea what was involved with the credit card fraud, Alvaro lied. “Six months tops.” Seeing the shock on Diamond’s face he quickly added, “But of course I’ll be available any time you need me.”
Diamond’s eyebrows disconnected. He smiled again. “Four months. Then I need you at the cantina with me and Carlos.”
Alvaro shook his head as he walked to his car in silence. Well, that’s that. I either find a way out, or I’m sentenced to a daily dose of putrid air and worse company…stark alternatives.
Part Four
11 | Early Morning Phone Calls
NYFO, 09/25/09, 0600 hours
Morley had his cardio day in front of him. He always looked forward to the ninety-minute program. Assisted by iTunes-induced solitude, he started the day with time to think and relax. But today, even with fifteen minutes of jump rope behind him and the treadmill maxed out, the ECTF supervisor knew the rotating belt wouldn’t deliver him to his desired destination.
He only had himself to blame. The voicemail light on his personal cell—the one that had been his father’s, the one that only a select few people knew about—was blinking. He checked the number but didn’t recognize it. It was from a different area code. It wasn’t from Sean or his mother, so Morley could have, should have, and normally would have, left it until after his workout. But he hadn’t, and now he was paying the price.
No amount of cardio-induced endorphins could reasonably explain why Kensington had made an unscheduled trip to Washington on a Sunday evening, was making the five-hour drive back that morning, or why it was “urgent that we talk as soon as I get back” and “that no one else know about this or that I’m out of town.”
Now Morley’s self-imposed time to think was working against him. He continued to replay the message in his head. The potential outcomes never improved.
The juxtaposition between the secretive trip by Kensington—the NYFO liaison to the Secret Service Inspection Division—and Morley’s “Longest Drive Competition” with some sick bastard’s testicles was concerning. He couldn’t imagine anything could come back to him, but he also couldn’t be completely sure. What he was sure of: there was something important enough to compel his close friend to drive—not fly—down and back to DC in less than twenty-four hours, and the only person she wanted to know about it was him.
PJ had some phone calls to make before he met Kensington.
“Hello.”
“Morning, Mom.”
“Patrick? Is everything okay?”
“Mom, this is important.” His tone was stern. “Have you talked to Mrs. Lingram since the day you drove in to see me?”
The pause in his mother’s response made PJ involuntarily close his eyes. “Mom, I need you to tell me what you told Esther.”
“Really not much at all. The day after you…the day after I met you at your office, I told her the boy wouldn’t bother Mary anymore; that was all. A few days after that, when Mary told Esther that…thing, hadn’t shown up for school for three days, she assumed he was dead. She couldn’t live with that.”
PJ took a deep breath waiting for the next sentence.
“She called me sick with worry. I told her you…”
PJ cringed. Okay, now I’m directly implicated.
“…hadn’t killed anyone, just fixed him so he wouldn’t be having any children, that’s all.”
“Mom, no more discussion about this subject with anyone, ever. If anyone tries to talk to you about it, you just say you want a lawyer, understand? I mean anyone, including Esther.”
“Is something wrong, Patrick?”
“I’m not sure, but I need you to promise me no more talking about this to anyone. K?”
“Okay, honey. I hope I didn’t do anything wrong.”
PJ lied. “No, it’ll be fine. But no more talking about this.”
“I promise.”
Within a minute of hanging up with his mother, Morley dialed Esther Lingram’s number on a disposable cell phone he had purchased in Chinatown an hour before.
The “Hello” was frail but sweet.
“Hello, Mrs. Lingram, this is Patrick Morley, how are you?”
“Patrick, how nice to hear your voice. I’m fine, thank you for asking. How is your mother?”
“She’s doing very well thank you.” Before PJ could get to the point, Mrs. Lingram continued. “She’s such a wonderful woman. I was sick when we had to move away from Beekman Street. We loved that neighborhood, and especially your family. I tell you, if Walter hadn’t had a better job out here—”
“Mrs. Lingram, I’m sorry to be rude, but I have to take a phone call in a minute, and I have an important question to ask you.”
“Certainly dear, but before you ask, I just want to say thank you for the
help with that—”
“Mrs. Lingram that’s what I need to talk to you about. Have you mentioned that situation to anyone?” PJ paused before he repeated it with added emphasis, “…anyone?”
“No, I haven’t mentioned it to anyone.”
PJ felt slight relief, but knew he wasn’t out of the woods. Now he had to do something he hated. Morley had to scare this gentle soul whose whole life revolved around caring for her handicapped daughter.
“Mrs. Lingram, you need to listen very carefully, for Mary’s sake.” The last three words focused his elderly listener’s attention.
“What happened was justified, but in a court of law it might get turned around. A crafty defense attorney could twist the facts. They might say you wanted it done and that’s why you called my mother. You could get arrested as an accomplice.”
Morley heard a gasp, then the timid voice said, “I’ve watched Law & Order. Defense attorneys play with the truth all the time. It makes me sick, and those shows are right from the headlines, they—”
“Mrs. Lingram, you’re right, a bad attorney can really play with the truth. The point is, you can’t say a thing about this to anyone, ever. If anyone ever asks, you have to say you need to talk to a lawyer. Do you understand?”
“Do you really think—”
Morley knew he had to refocus Esther. “Mrs. Lingram, if you were to go to jail, who would look after Mary?” He didn’t let the thought sink too deep, “It’s critical for Mary that you don’t say anything to anyone, not even her.”
“Patrick, I won’t, you have my word.”
“That’s great. I hate to worry you. In all likelihood nothing is going to happen. Still, I want you to be prepared, like the team on Law & Order. They prepare for everything.”
“You’re right, there was this one episode where…”
Morley let Esther talk for a few more minutes before he interrupted the lonely old woman and told her he had to go. Before he did, he gave her the same name and number he’d given his mother. He said to call that number if anyone asked her questions.
12 | Armor Piercing