The Nephew

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The Nephew Page 14

by Claude Bouchard


  “You’re hooked into their system?” said Chris. “Sweet.”

  “Look at the different displays,” said Perriello. “The grounds aren’t fully covered. A lot of places to duck out of view if you know where the cameras are looking. Even with the outside lighting on once it’s dark, there’ll be a lot of shadow to work with and we won’t need much time. We’ll get you all set up with the feeds so you can track your visibility as required.”

  “Do we have everything we need to do this?” asked Jonathan.

  “We’re good,” Benny replied. “I have a bunker under the garage where we keep some inventory.”

  “So, is everybody okay with the plan?” asked Perriello.

  “It should work,” said Chris, “As long as they do what you want them to do but, what if they don’t?”

  “We move to Plan B, improvise and adapt,” Perriello replied. “Is it a go?”

  Jonathan took in the nods around the room and said, “It’s a go.”

  “Sunset is at eight thirty-three,” said Perriello. “Let’s get busy.”

  * * * *

  Gravenhurst, Ontario, 8:55 p.m.

  Ty pulled the Mustang to a stop at the east end of Ramos’ property and Dave quickly climbed out of the passenger seat to allow Leslie and Vince to exit from the back.

  “We’ll let you know when we’re in position,” said Perriello before following Leslie between the trees onto the neighbouring lot.

  They moved along the wrought-iron fence a couple of dozen feet, stopping at the third stone column.

  “I’ll give you a boost,” Perriello whispered, lacing his fingers together.

  Leslie smiled at the big man and said, “I don’t want to wait ten minutes for you on the other side. I’ll give you a boost.”

  “You’re mean,” said Perriello, gripping the stone column and raising his foot into her now laced fingers.

  With Leslie’s assistance, he scrambled to the top of the ten-foot column then turned and lowered himself on the other side, hitting the ground a second before Leslie landed beside him.

  She winked at him and said, “Come on.”

  They headed across the wooded expanse toward the guardhouse and, as it came into view, Perriello checked his mobile displaying the feed of one security camera which captured the main gate from afar. The guard, Miguel Bueso, could be seen seated on the bench on the front, opposite side of the structure, his attention on his own phone, likely playing some video game.

  Slowing their approach, they quietly moved up to the rear of the twelve by twelve-foot stone cabin and carefully peered inside through the two small windows, confirming Bueso was alone. Perriello quickly texted a message to Ty then nodded to Leslie, indicating their colleagues were on their way.

  * * * *

  Miguel Bueso heard the rumble of a powerful engine approaching and looked up in surprise as the Mustang veered and stopped by the gate, its headlights flashing a couple of times.

  “What the fuck?” he questioned aloud, putting his phone aside and heading to the gate. He recognized Chavez’s car and, the last he had heard was it had disappeared along with Joe Ortez.

  “Joe, is tha –” he managed to say before a vicious blow to the side of the head sent him into darkness. His unconscious state prevented him from seeing Dave climb out of the Mustang and secure the electronic gate shut with a heavy lock and chain.

  * * * *

  Perriello flung Bueso’s limp body over his shoulder and hurried out of sight beyond the guardhouse and into the woods as the Mustang rumbled away.

  “First one’s down,” he announced for the benefit of all after dumping his victim on the ground.

  “Good work,” came Benny’s voice through their earpieces.

  “Main gate is secured,” said Dave. “We’re heading to the west side.”

  “Is he dead?” asked Leslie, already binding Bueso’s ankles with a zip-tie.

  “Nah, I barely touched him,” Perriello replied, flipping the unconscious man over to bind his wrists. Rolling him onto his back again, he then pulled him up into a sitting position and held him steady while Leslie wrapped a couple of turns of duct tape over his mouth and around the back of his neck.

  With Bueso settled, Perriello asked, “Status on the other guards?”

  “One back here, strolling the dock,” Jonathan replied. “He was heading there when we came from the cliff.”

  “Can you take him?” asked Perriello.

  “He’s got a chair and a drink by the guesthouse,” said Jonathan. “Sean’s in position. We’ll give him a couple minutes to get back there.”

  “Anyone else out there?” asked Perriello.

  “Negative,” Jonathan replied.

  “Okay,” said Perriello. “We’re heading to the cars.”

  They moved amongst the trees in the direction of the main house with Vince once again studying the surveillance feeds on his mobile. He stopped suddenly and showed the display to Leslie as he addressed the others.

  “Update. Only three cars here now. The Miata is gone and so is Granillo’s Camaro.”

  “So, no girlfriend and one less guard,” Benny summarized for everyone’s sake.

  “Correct,” Perriello confirmed. “We’ll be working on the cars in a minute or two so we’re going quiet for a bit.”

  * * * *

  A sturdy maple with appropriately positioned branches had facilitated scaling the fence for Ty and Dave. They now huddled in the off-camera shadows on the west side of Ramos’ property as they studied the security camera display which captured the well illuminated area in front of the double-width garage door and the walk-through entrance beside it.

  “Are you sure this is going to work?” Dave murmured.

  “Nope,” Ty replied. “That’s why you’re here to cover me should anyone show up.”

  He pulled on the Velcro strap which held the tightly rolled brownish bundle and unraveled the thin six by four foot nylon sheet. Grasping two corners, he pulled it over his head and stretched his arms out before him, creating something of a tent.

  “Here goes nothing,” he muttered as he crouched low and stepped onto the paving stone lane, moving slowly toward the door.

  “You’re not in camera range yet,” said Dave, keeping one eye on his mobile and the other on Ty.

  “Are you sure?” asked Ty, taking a few more steps.

  Dave peered more closely at the display and said, “Well, damn, you are, but you’re almost invisible.”

  “I’m a regular MacGyver,” Ty whispered. “How am I doing for distance?”

  “Another twenty feet or so,” Dave replied. “Shift a bit to your left.”

  Another minute went by as Ty crouch-shuffled before finally reaching the garage door.

  “Honey, I’m home,” he breathed, getting on his knees while letting the sheet completely drape over him.

  “Still all clear,” said Dave, continuously scanning the area from the front to the back of the house.

  “This won’t take long,” said Ty, removing one of the explosive devices from a pocket of his vest.

  Removing a strip of waxed paper to expose an adhesive surface, he affixed the device on the garage door, bottom-centre then armed it. In addition to being ready for detonation upon receiving the proper signal, the device was also equipped with a mercury switch which would set it off if the door was opened. Grasping his sheet, he raised it just enough to see then returned to a crouch and moved to the walking entrance where he quickly installed a similar device.

  “Done,” he announced.

  “Keep on heading toward the back,” Dave advised. “You’ll be out of camera range five feet past the lighted area.”

  Ty continued south, moving more quickly this time, until he was ten feet or so out of the spotlight’s range. Taking a moment, he rolled up the sheet and strapped it back in place then consulted the camera feed on his phone. Jogging a few steps across the stone lane, he reached the landscaped area which lined the fence and hurried back to wh
ere Dave waited, confident he was outside the cameras’ views.

  “Garage is done,” he reported. “We’re moving to the front to slap a few of these babies in place then we’re out of here.”

  “Stay safe, boys,” said Benny from his boat, anchored just out of sight along with Jonathan’s plane on Cliff Bay.

  * * * *

  “Here he comes,” Jonathan whispered from where he hid amongst some trees near the cliff edge.

  “I see him,” Sean confirmed, further down the slope near the guesthouse. “I’ll let him settle down then move in.”

  “I’ll be there if you need me,” Jonathan replied as he started edging down through the shadows.

  * * * *

  Diego Gonzales plopped down into his chair with a sigh before reaching for his glass and taking a healthy swallow. He didn’t particularly like doing the night shift but Ramos paid well, food and drink was on the house and the boss tolerated his guys taking a snooze. As Ramos told them from time to time, “You fuckers can sleep on the job all you like. You just better have your ass in gear if shit comes down.” However, not one incident of note had occurred, not even with the cops, since Ramos had moved to this spot and everyone expected the trend to continue.

  Diego wasn’t tired, having slept the better part of the day in the guesthouse, so he expected a long night of boredom was in store. He’d had a few drinks already and blown a couple of joints so he knew he had to slack off for a while. Sleeping while on duty was one thing but getting plastered was something Ramos frowned upon.

  Deciding on a bit of music to pass the time, he picked up his headphones from the table beside them and plugged then into his phone. Looking at the screen, which displayed the security feeds, he did a quick round of the cameras but noted nothing of interest. What he saw could have been still pics rather than live video barring branches swaying in the light breeze. Yep, it was going to be a long night.

  He got some music going then put the phone down on the chair between his legs before leaning back and closing his eyes. In so doing, he never saw the garrote which whipped down before his face, tightened around his neck and yanked him violently backward off his chair.

  * * * *

  “He’s dead,” said Jonathan after confirming Gonzales’ lack of breathing and pulse.

  “Still better than what he deserved,” Hayden replied. “The bastard got away with murder twice that we’re aware of.”

  “Well, he won’t do it again,” said Jonathan before reporting to the others. “Second man neutralized.”

  “I’m coming in,” Chris replied. “Give me a minute.”

  “Sean will meet you at the dock,” said Jonathan. “I’ll cover the yard.”

  * * * *

  “We’re all done out front,” Perriello announced. “No sign of detection and we’ve cleared out.”

  “Same here,” said Dave.

  “All set on this end,” said Chris as he climbed back into the kayak. “Estimated time, two minutes.”

  “Ready and waiting,” said Jonathan.

  They remained silent for a couple of minutes until Benny reported, “Chris is back to the boat, folks. Less than a minute to showtime.”

  * * * *

  “– so that’s why,” Ramos was saying when the explosions began.

  “What the fuck is that?” Danilo exclaimed as more booms and tremors were heard and felt.

  “Jesus Christ,” Ramos bellowed, hearing windows shattering at the front of the house.

  He grabbed his mobile and speed dialled Bueso at the guardhouse.

  “Answer your fucking phone,” he screamed before cutting the connection.

  “Holy fuck,” Danilo muttered, staring at the tablet in his hands before turning it to Ramos.

  The security camera feed showed the three cars out front, or what remained of them, in a roaring blaze. Danilo’s Escalade stood on its side and Bueso’s Challenger had flipped forward and was leaning against the front wall of the house.

  Ramos scrolled through the various feeds and suddenly said, “There are people out front with guns. We’re being fucking attacked.”

  Danilo snatched the tablet back and moved from one camera to the next. By coincidence, as he reached the one fixed on the garage doors, the bombs placed there detonated in a blinding flash, generating yet another quake-like tremor.

  “Son of a bitch,” Ramos shouted in rage and fear. “What was that?”

  “They blasted the garage,” said Danilo, moving to the cameras at the rear of the house. “I don’t see anything out back.”

  “Motherfuckers must be hiding,” Ramos snapped. “They’re trying to force us out there to shoot us down. Let’s get to the tunnel.”

  * * * *

  “Anything?” asked Chris.

  “Nothing out front,” replied Perriello. “We’ve made ourselves visible a couple of times.”

  “Nothing back here either,” said Jonathan. “We’re ready if they come out.”

  A minute or so passed and Hayden suddenly murmured, “Hot damn. Trap door just popped open on the dock. There’s Danilo, and there’s Ramos. Both have handguns. Ramos just got on the cruiser and Danilo is going for the lines. Engines firing up. Front line is done. He at the back one now and casting off.”

  “So they’re getting away on the damned boat?” Chris muttered.

  “Looks that way,” Hayden confirmed as he and Jonathan watched the cruiser pulling away. “No sense trying to shoot at them now.”

  “Agreed,” said Chris. “Clear out, folks, and head back to Benny’s. Sean and Jonathan, we’ll pick you up at the dock in a couple of minutes, as soon as the bastards are out of sight.”

  * * * *

  “What the fuck was that?” Ramos demanded, fuming as they sped out of Cliff Bay and veered due north toward Lighthouse Narrows and Lake Muskoka beyond. “Who the fuck were those bastards?”

  “I don’t know, Gabe,” Danilo replied, “But they seemed like pros to me. If you didn’t have the escape tunnel, we’d be dead. I’m sure they had snipers waiting for us out back.”

  “Would that fucker, Fernando, be smart enough to do this kind of shit?” asked Ramos.

  “Maybe, with the help of his kid,” said Danilo. “I just don’t know who they could have got to help them.”

  “Well, we’re going to find out,” Ramos vowed, “And I will personally cut off their balls and shove them down their throats. Each and every one of them.”

  “We’ll find them,” Danilo agreed, “But where are we going to go for now?”

  “We’ll anchor down somewhere,” Ramos replied. “Motherfuckers won’t find us in the middle of the goddamned lake and, if they do, we’ll see them coming and blast the shit out of them.”

  * * * *

  Lake Muskoka, Ontario, 9:52 p.m.

  “Yep, looks like they stopped,” said Benny. “Haven’t moved in several minutes so they probably anchored.”

  “Couldn’t have chosen a better spot,” said Chris, gazing at the radar screen. “Far enough from any land and no other boats nearby.”

  “We’re the closest,” Benny agreed, “And we’re a couple of miles away. Ready to go?”

  “No point delaying the inevitable,” Chris replied as he turned to Carlos. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “I wanted to go in and shoot them,” said Carlos. “This is the next best thing.”

  “Go ahead,” said Chris.

  * * * *

  “I still can’t believe this shit,” said Ramos, mixing himself a drink in the lounge below deck, “But they’ll pay. Whoever they –”

  The trill of Danilo’s mobile interrupted him and the look on Danilo’s face as he glanced at the screen made Ramos ask, “What?”

  “It’s fucking Carlos,” said Danilo. “A video call.”

  “Fernando’s kid, Carlos?” Ramos exclaimed. “Answer the damned phone.”

  Danilo tapped the screen and said, “You son of a bitch, you realize you’ve signed your death warrant, right?


  Carlos smiled on the small screen and said, “Just like you signed yours when you killed my mother. The problem is, I know where you are but you don’t know where I am.”

  “We’re going to find you, you little shit,” Danilo promised. “You and your friends failed with your one chance tonight and now you’re going to regret it.”

  Carlos laughed. “We didn’t fail, you moron. Our plan worked perfectly.”

  “Give me that fucking phone,” Ramos snarled before snatching the mobile from Danilo’s hand and glaring at the screen. “You fucked up, you little cocksucker, and now you’re going to hurt really bad and long before you die. Consider killing yourself before we find you, you little fucker.”

  “Aw, the big, mean man is mad,” Carlos taunted. “I’ll tell you what, Gabby. Let’s put an end to these empty threats and get down to business.”

  “You’re dead, you piece of shit,” Ramos screamed at the phone.

  “No,” Carlos disagreed. “You’re dead, or you will be soon. Can you count from five to zero backward?”

  “Can I count, what are you talking about?” Ramos demanded.

  “Watch and listen,” Carlos ordered, his tone suddenly deathly serious.

  As Ramos watched the screen, Carlos turned his own phone over to show a small, black device he held in his other hand. With his thumb, he pushed a sliding part aside to reveal a single red button within.

  “Get ready to count,” Ramos heard Carlos say as the young man’s thumb pressed the button.

 

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