by Jay Cannon
“I don’t dare do that. I’m sure those damn Euclidian are still tracking us. You stay here with the device in case they try to attack me. Monitor me from the transporter and come to my aid if you feel you need to.” Daloi handed the device to Dholi and gave her a quick nod.
“Okay, sis, but be careful,” Dholi said, placing an arm on her sister’s shoulder.
“Will do. See you soon.” Daloi walked out of the penthouse apartment and headed to the street to hail a cab.
***
Following his captain’s orders, Peters drove to Foster’s condo, determined to get answers about the two women with whom the billionaire had fraternized.
If I remind him of the possible risks to his business and potential to lose billions of dollars while he wastes away in a jail cell, he might be willing to talk. Of course, I have to do that in a way that doesn’t offend him and risk my job, he thought. By the time Peters knocked on Foster’s door, the detective was clammy with sweat and eager to get the interview behind him.
“Can I help you?” asked Dholi, answering the door in the disguise she had been using around Charlie, which was unfamiliar to Peters.
“Yes, I’m Sergeant Peters with the NYPD. Is Mr. Foster in?” Peters asked, showing Dholi his badge.
“No, he is usually only here on the weekends,” said Dholi, giving Peters a seductive look.
“And who might you be?” Peters asked, smiling.
“I’m Barbara,” Dholi said, shaking Peters’ hand.
“Do you know where I can find Mr. Foster, Barbara?”
“No, I don’t.” Dholi responded with a pout.
“Is Daloi or her sister around? We spoke briefly at the police station this morning.”
“No, they’re out shopping.” Dholi laughed.
“Let them know I dropped by and let us know if they have any more news about Adar.” Peters handed her a card and tipped his hat to Dholi.
“Certainly, Sergeant Peters.” Dholi smiled again, as she closed the door.
***
Adar walked into his apartment where he found Ahmed anxiously waiting for him.
“I’m glad you’re back. Toni wants us to join her at a meeting with the Syndicate, the guys that run all of New York and New Jersey,” said Ahmed, standing up from the couch, where he was watching a sports program.
“I can go now. Where is the place?” said Adar, always eager for another confrontation.
“It’s at the Syndicate’s offices, a few blocks from here. Remember, we walked by there a couple of days ago on the way to the Tavern.”
“Yes, I remember. Let’s go,” said Adar, heading for the door.
“You don’t need anything before we go? Change your socks or something?” Ahmed asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. He hadn’t seen Adar since the day before.
“Nope, I’m good,” Adar grinned, baring his numerous sharp teeth.
“Okay, let’s go then,” Ahmed said, shivers running up his spine at the sight of Adar’s toothy smile.
***
Ahmed and Adar arrived at the Syndicate’s offices on Hester Street in Little Italy a few moments after the meeting started. Toni approached them, anger darkening her long, thin face.
“Where have you guys been? If you’re going to be on my team, you need to be more accessible. Let’s go inside. They’re waiting on me. I’ll do all the talking. Just stay behind me and watch my back.”
“Did the two women working with Charlie show up?” asked Adar.
“How would I know?” Toni retorted, still clearly miffed. “I’ve been out here waiting on you two. Let’s go in and see.”
The trio entered the heavily guarded low-rise building used by the Syndicate to conduct business. Toni slowly strode into the crowded conference room where leaders of the area’s different families had seated themselves around a long, wooden table, all of them men. Bright sunshine from the window at the end of the conference room filled the area with light. Small bottles of water graced the middle of the table. Toni took a spot at the table, while Adar and Ahmed took seats behind her along the wall.
“Toni, I’m glad you could make it,” said Sherman MacDonald, whom everyone called Mac. “I assume those are your associates.” Mac lifted his chin in the direction of Adar and Ahmed.
Mac ran the Syndicate and worked to keep the families in line to prevent all-out war, which could bring undesirable attention to mob activities in New York City and surrounding areas. He acted as more of a mediator than an enforcer. He didn’t much care who ran Harry Moran’s territory as long as it didn’t start a war.
“Yes, Ahmed is my lieutenant, and Adar is my muscle,” Toni replied, pointing to each of them in turn.
“A little small for muscle, isn’t he?” someone shouted from the other end of the table, sending a ripple of laughter across the room.
“Laugh if you want, but that’s the guy who singlehandedly took out Luigi and his guys. Probably Harry’s as well,” another voice cautioned. This quieted the room.
“If you guys are finished jabbering, let’s get down to business,” Toni said soberly. “My husband ran the south side of Manhattan until his untimely death, at which time his territory should have gone to me. Harry felt differently, but when his new lieutenants fell prey to their own calamities, Harry made a deal with me,” she continued, looking around the table.
“You mean when you had them killed!” shouted another boss at the table.
“That is unsubstantiated,” said Toni, continuing to describe her version of the facts. “Later, Harry decided he wanted me out of the picture, but he lost that battle. According to the rules, what was once his is now mine.”
“I don’t belong to you!” said Jerome, leaping to his feet and pointing his finger downward to emphasize his point.
“You worked for Harry, now you work for me. Am I wrong here, Mac?” asked Toni, raising her hands above the table for emphasis.
“Jerome, you know the rules,” Mac replied.
“I’m not working for no skirt and that’s that,” replied Jerome, smacking the table.
“Jerome, you don’t run enough territory to be a boss, which means you have to report to a boss,” insisted Mac.
“I’ll take him,” said Carlos Quitoni, the boss of Queens, holding a hand up.
“That’s not the way it works,” said Toni, giving Carlos a stare.
“To keep the peace, I will allow it,” said Mac, putting a hand out to calm Toni.
“We can’t just have people jumping ship anytime they don’t like their boss,” Toni insisted, scowling at Mac.
“This is an unusual circumstance, Toni. Why don’t you get settled into your new position, and we can discuss other opportunities later?” Mac requested, looking to placate Toni.
“Which means shut up and do what you’re told, little lady. Just because I don’t have a penis don’t think I’m weak,” said Toni, standing up and leaning over the table. “Carlos, you want to take what’s mine, let’s you and me go into a closet together and whoever comes out alive gets everything,” an indignant Toni offered, staring Carlos down.
“There’s no fighting here, Toni, and this deal is done!” Mac shouted, slamming a hand on the table.
“The deal is done when I say it’s done. Let’s go, boys,” said Toni, storming out. Facing Adar and Ahmed on the sidewalk, she said, “I want this fixed, you two. Whatever you need to do, just fix it.”
“You know going against Mac won’t end well,” warned Ahmed.
“So convince Jerome that he needs to work for me, and make sure Carlos is okay with that. And do it without killing them,” Toni instructed, her teeth grinding in frustration.
“How are we supposed to do that?” Ahmed eyed Toni in frustration, knowing that if there was any blowback, Toni would not be able to protect him.
“You two say you’re good at making things happen. Work your damn magic!” said Toni, before hopping into her limo, which immediately pulled away from the curb.
“What d
o you suggest we do?” Ahmed asked Adar.
“We go to Carlos’ place, wait for him to arrive, and convince him to give up Jerome. Then we go to Jerome and convince him to stay with Toni. Easy as that,” said Adar, looking forward to using his own brand of persuasion.
“’Easy to do’ is easy to say. Making it happen is going to be a lot harder,” said Ahmed, thinking about the gauntlet of well-armed men they were likely to encounter at both locations.
“Good, I like hard. Let’s go pay a visit to Queens,” Adar said, a sardonic smile on his face.
***
Ahmed grabbed his car and drove Adar to Queens. He parked in the alley across from Carlos’ place and waited for the mobster to show.
“There he is,” Ahmed said, pointing as Carlos entered his high-rise apartment building.
A suave guy of medium height in his early 50s, Carlos was of Puerto Rican descent. Known as a dancing, skating and well-dressed ladies’ man, Carlos ran the Latin Kings for a while, before he decided to go mainstream to gain more power and influence. Carlos didn’t like the idea of women being in charge, certainly not running a family.
They should be at home watching their kids, he thought. Carlos planned to slowly pick away at Toni’s territory, until he grabbed it all. He viewed the acquisition of Jerome as just the beginning of his planned expansion.
“I will follow Carlos inside, cloaked, and let you know how it goes,” said Adar.
“You’re going to teach me how to do that one day, right?” Ahmed quipped, hitting Adar on the arm.
“Sure, when you become an alien,” said Adar, running to catch up with Carlos.
The Latino mob boss walked into his office with his bodyguard, Jesus, removed his leather sport coat and took the seat behind his desk.
“Hello, gentlemen,” said Adar, appearing suddenly in front of the desk.
“Where’d you come from?” Carlos jumped, startled.
“That is not important. I’m here to ask you to tell Jerome that the deal is off,” Adar said sternly, leaning toward Carlos over his desk.
“Why would I want to do that?” Carlos asked, nodding to one of his bodyguards.
The bodyguard reached for his gun. Before the weapon cleared the holster, however, Adar lunged and sliced through the man’s body diagonally from shoulder to hip.
“Now that is going to leave an ugly stain on your rug,” Adar said, smirking.
“You kill me, and Toni gets nothing. She’ll be kicked out of the Syndicate and be worse than dead.” Carlos tried to sound confident, but couldn’t stop the quivering in his voice.
Adar calmly wiped the blade of his spear on the dead man’s pants. “I don’t want to kill you. I want to educate you.” The alien grinned at Carlos.
“Wylyy, we’re ready for that trip to the zoo,” Adar spoke Euclidian into his UCD.
The pilot of the alien ship immediately whisked Adar and Carlos to the local zoo via transporter, to a spot just above several sleeping lions.
“How the hell did we get here?” Carlos yelped.
“Shush, you don’t want to wake up the lions,” Adar whispered. “They would probably become agitated, seeing you in their den like this. I will leave you here to study the animals and let Toni know that you are not interested in helping her out.” Adar patted Carlos on the shoulder and smiled.
“No, wait, don’t go. You can’t leave me like this,” Carlos pleaded, suddenly contrite.
“I am having trouble hearing you!” Adar shouted, waking up one of the lions, which trotted towards the two.
“Please get me out of here. I’ll do whatever you want!” the terrified mob boss begged.
“Wylyy, take us back,” said Adar into his communicator.
Instantly, Carlos and Adar were back in the mobster’s office.
Adar studied Carlos for a few seconds. Then he suggested, “Why don’t you make that call to Jerome now, while I am still here? And let Toni know that you won’t be interfering with her deals in the future.”
Carlos looked at his hands and his surroundings, trying to figure out what had just happened.
“Do you think you can make that call now?” Adar prodded.
“Anything you say, mister. Just no more weird head trips, please,” squeaked Carlos, wiping his brow.
***
“How did it go?” asked Ahmed, watching Adar slip back into the car.
“He pissed his pants.”
“You’re kidding,” Ahmed cried, as he started the car.
“No, I am not. He called Jerome and told him that he changed his mind about the deal. Now let’s go see Jerome,” said Adar, punching a fist into his hand.
“You know Jerome will be waiting for us,” Ahmed warned.
“I hope so. I could use the workout. Why don’t you just drive to our place? I will have Wylyy transport me to Jerome’s current location,” Adar suggested, not eager to share the upcoming battle with Ahmed.
“And miss all the fun? I want to join you,” Ahmed said, wondering if Adar wanted to take all the credit for himself.
“It could get bloody, and I may not be able to protect you,” the alien said. He didn’t want to have to protect his sidekick while he was fighting.
“I’m not a chump. Let’s do this,” Ahmed said, looking to insert himself back into the action.
“Fine. Pull over and park, and I will have Wylyy transport us both there.”
Ahmed found a parking spot, while Adar contacted Wylyy.
After Ahmed turned off the car, Adar gave Wylyy the go ahead to transport the two of them to Jerome’s office, where the defiant mobster had barricaded himself with six of his men.
When Adar and Ahmed appeared in the office, all six bodyguards reached for their guns.
Ahmed, who already had his gun out, blasted away, while Adar used his spear to hack his way across the room.
Jerome, paralyzed with fright, hid under his desk. When the fighting ended, Adar wiped the blood from his spear before putting it away. He walked over to Jerome’s desk and lifted it high above Jerome’s head.
“You can come out now, we won’t hurt you,” said Adar, tossing the desk over his head to land in a broken heap of wood behind him. Jerome pulled his .38 pistol and attempted to fire it at Adar.
Before he got off a shot, Adar kicked him into the back wall, sending the gun skidding across the floor.
“Please don’t hurt me. I don’t want trouble.” Jerome cowered, lifting his hands and ducking his head at the same time.
“I’m not convinced you are ready to play nice,” growled Adar. “Stand up for a moment. I want to see if you can fly out the window,” he added, grabbing Jerome around the neck.
“Wait, Adar,” said Ahmed, stepping forward. “Jerome, I’m Ahmed, Toni’s lieutenant. Adar is Toni’s enforcer. We met at the Syndicate meeting earlier today,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I know who you two are. Mac said I didn’t have to go with Toni. If you kill me, there will be a price to pay,” said Jerome nervously. “Not just for you, but Toni as well.”
“How about if I just cut off one of your legs,” said Adar, looking at Jerome sideways. “Would that be okay?”
“No, not at all. Ahmed, do something. This guy has some real problems,” objected Jerome, obviously shaken. He attempted to pull away from Adar’s grip without success.
“You don’t know the half of it. He wanted to eat you,” Ahmed confided.
Adar revealed his sharp teeth to Jerome in a feral smile.
“He won’t though. We would really like you to join us on a ride to Toni’s place to let her know that you would be happy to become part of her team.” Ahmed’s tone was conciliatory.
“Jerome, what’s going on in there?” someone shouted, banging on the door.
“Tell him that we had a slight disagreement, but everything’s okay now—unless you want more of your men dead. Now open the door,” Ahmed ordered. Adar released Jerome, who stumbled over to answer the door.
“Mason, put
your gun away,” said Jerome, opening the door. “These guys work for Toni. I’m going to go over and do the deal with her.”
“What, are you crazy?” asked the henchman called Mason, looking around the office in shock. “Look at this place. You don’t mean to let them get away with this do you?” he cried, trying not to look at the chopped-up and shot-up bodies of his former colleagues strewn across the room amid the broken furniture.
“Do as you’re told. I’ll be over at Toni’s,” Jerome snapped, looking defeated as he left his office.
***
That same evening, Charlie watched TV in his office while having drinks with Sharon, Sheila, Daloi and Dholi, and yelling at the screen.
“Look at that bastard,” Charlie said, staring at a commercial advertising an upcoming concert featuring Kanye West with Lady Gaga at Madison Square Garden.
“What’s wrong, boss?” asked Sharon, confused by his reaction to the ad.
“That guy, that guy right there screwed me over, and I’m still pissed about it,” said Charlie, pointing at the screen and looking back at Sharon.
“How do you know Kanye?” asked Sharon, having never heard him mention Kanye before.
“Our paths crossed on occasion at parties. At one of those parties, I overheard him say that he planned a trip to the Bahamas, but wanted more privacy than the hotels there could give him. I offered up my bungalow on the island of Nassau, and in return, he promised to drop by my daughter’s sixteenth birthday party. He accepted, but guess what?” Charlie asked, pointing at Sharon.
“He didn’t drop by,” Sharon guessed.
“Exactly! No apology, no excuses, and no responses to my copious voicemails and emails,” Charlie snarled, grinding his teeth in angry frustration.
“So how should we resolve this slight to your honor? Sheila and I would be happy to give him a beat-down in a club,” suggested Sharon.
“I want more than that. I want him bitch-slapped during the damn concert!” demanded Charlie, pounding on the arm of his desk chair. He then began rocking back and forth, anger suffusing his face.
“That would be tough to pull off and not spend a year in jail, or longer,” Sheila muttered, considering the idea.