by S. W. Frank
“Is there any others Kefilwe?” He heard the voice ask someone.
“No Gamba…no others.”
A pause.
A woman shrieking.
A gunshot sounded and the boys spun around as their father stood. The twin’s expression was one of bewilderment. Shock. Bereft was Darren. “Dad…dad…was that mom. Did somebody shoot our mom?”
Nico put the laptop in his backpack and then walked to the boys who stood near their baby sister. Shaky hands gripped their shoulders. His head bowed under the blackness which engulfed him. A jerk of nerves occurred, then equalized as his fingers squeezed hard the muscular arms that were on boys not yet men. His heart galloped several times before it smashed right through his chest. The emotional reaction to the possibility Ari may have died soon settled and he was able to think. His voice came, it’d gotten lost somewhere but he found he could now speak. He gave instructions to the youths who’d eventually realize death is often extemporaneous. No one can prepare for its coming, nobody knows the victim’s hour, and only the reaper sees whose next. “You two, take care of your sister. In the morning go to Sophie’s and stay there. Stay there…do that for me. I have to…” he couldn’t finish his sentence. The words were getting choked in his throat. He couldn’t think beyond this sad feeling as he wondered was this his fault.
Gamba.
Kefilwe.
He was expected to receive word tomorrow from Bianca’s brother about Pasqual and this Gamba. Unfortunately, tomorrow was too late.
The twins swiped at their wet faces.
He had the backpack slung over his arm when he heard voices. Women. Ari talking. His sons perked up. She was asking Selange in Spanish was she okay. Somebody must be around he surmised. “Your lip is bleeding, did that sonovabitch hit you?”
A tearful voice. “He took the bracelet Allie brought without permission. The one Alberti left me. That bastard said it was a gift to an undeserving whore!”
“Fuck him, where’s Allie?”
“She’s hiding inside. Thank heavens she didn’t see what happened,” Selange hiccupped. “That sonovabitch executed Estefan right in front of me!”
Nico’s thoughts were, hot damn they’re alive!
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Alfonzo was barking at the GC, the foreman and every damn body in his vicinity deemed management on the construction site. Thank goodness no one was injured when the crane boom malfunctioned. The operator was a bit shaken but his bigger problem was damage control in the form of money.
The worse thing about the accident was it could have been avoided with proper cribbing. An elementary safeguard hadn’t been employed. How damn difficult was it to check the blocking, which takes a few minutes to do? Had the operator and foreman stabilized the boom with supports for stabilization when the loads were lifted, the crane wouldn’t have swung when it shifted and he wouldn’t be out assessing damage nor had to leave his son.
Another reason he was pissed was because from the preliminary report and visual observation he gauged the load was too large. Cranes have weight limits and the crane operator is supposed to know that!
Man, dumb shit like this made Alfonzo wonder if all the training in the world can’t teach common sense. Retraining my ass, the operator wasn’t going on anymore of his equipment. Fuck up once and do this type of major damage, next time he might cause a death.
He heard Sergio before he saw him with his cell outstretched in his hand. “Giuseppe says he’s tried calling and this is urgent.”
Alfonzo took the phone. “Yeah what’s up?”
“I am flying to Zimbabwe, there is an emergency.”
Alfonzo’s feet were in motion. He shouted over his shoulder to Matt to take charge of the mess and gestured for Tony to come along. “What happened?”
“Allie called me. There’s been a shooting.”
Alfonzo stumbled to a halt. His feet were cinderblocks. The car waiting at the curb seemed far. He held erect as a board to absorb the words. Sergio and Tony were on his flank. His Capo stood in the distance near the car. For some reason his feet felt like weights. His immediate thought was of his little girl. “What…que…where is my daughter?”
“She is safe. I have been talking to her. She is safe fratellino.”
“Bueno…bueno.” Alfonzo glanced at Sergio who wore a worried expression. He never liked asking about Selange when things went down. He just didn’t. The fear was he might receive confirmation of his worst nightmare. But, he always asked, always wanted to know if this would be the last day he breathed. “And Selange...what about Ari?”
“Fratellino…I do not know…Allie said a bad man took them.” Giuseppe omitted the hitting part. For his brother he would exact revenge.
Alfonzo reached the vehicle; he'd given orders along the way. He handed Sergio his cell and instructed him to get Sal and stay at the house until he called. Tony was coming along. The Capo he told to gather eight of their best and weapons. They would have to take the corporate plane; his private aircraft was on African soil. He was inside the vehicle, searching through the pockets of his suit jacket that he’d left in the car. He found his cell and saw loads of messages, mainly from Allie. He opened an attachment and bless his daughter…oh his niña was a quick thinker. Clear as the sun was a photo of a man with his hands on Selange’s wrist. In the background were grass and two bodies he didn’t have to guess to know who they were. At the side in elementary scribble was Allie’s title:Interesting.
He hadn’t had time to study the man’s face when a call came in from Nico. “You get my messages?”
“I’m just getting them.”
“You’re in motion?”
“Fucking A!”
“I’ll keep in contact and I’ll see you in the Motherland.”
“Damn straight.”
Another call and his chest became a tornado. Selange. His babe was calling. But, it wasn’t her voice on the other end. A baritone, leisure talker is who greeted him. “Good day Mr. Diaz. Wonderful to finally speak with you.”
Alfonzo had a torrent of emotions that he suppressed. His tone did not reflect the anger or panic he was certain the man expected. Never give a motherfucker what he wants, he checkmates your ass the minute you do. “Likewise. Before you start, put my wife on for a sec hombre and then we can talk all day.”
A deep laugh. “She’s very pretty. Nice tits and ass. If I were not a gentleman I would be tempted to give her the privilege of sucking my dick.”
This was a punk. The vilest kind. Alfonzo’s cobalt eyes were sparkling pools of contempt. “Eh, but you are a gentleman as you said. I’m sure you have many women who’d gladly volunteer, or maybe you prefer eager males.”
The insult struck hard. In most African cultures homosexuality is an offense. Judging by the reaction he received the caller didn’t like the comment. Most homophobes don’t. He was probably a poo pusher in secret and didn’t like being called out. “I should slice her neck for that.”
“You do, we have no business to discuss until I find you and return the favor.”
“You are in no position to threaten.”
“Neither are you.”
“Five million in twelve hours is how we will officially begin this negotiation for your whore and then we will talk again. I would have given you twenty-four but since you have insulted me I have cut it in half.”
“Not a problem, except I don’t hand over money without sampling the goods. A voice of a familiar woman isn’t a difficult request to fulfill as a sign of good faith.”
“You are right.” He shouted, “Bring the bitch to me!”
Several seconds of breathing and he heard her. His eyes closed tight with relief. Every muscle in his body relaxed. “Put her on,” he ordered the voice.
“Speak bitch to your master!”
In Spanish Selange rapidly spok
e. “His name is Gamba. Allie’s at the orphanage. I’m fine…I love you.”
“Shut-up!” her captor shouted.
Alfonzo sat forward angrily. This sonovabitch was testing his nerves.
She yelled in Spanish. “I love you. I’m good honey don’t worry!”
Alfonzo prayed then, for strength and the mother of his children. His voice boomed. “Touch her motherfucker and I’ll cut off your hand and then your cock!”
Laughter. “Ah, I see she is very important. Fine. Ten million within twelve hours and then we will talk again. This is the account I want the money deposited,” the man said and then rapidly spit out numbers. “Be a good dog and go fetch my money.”
The phone went dead and Alfonzo knew he’d kill this one horribly.
The car had rolled onto the edge of the tarmac where men were already boarding with duffle bags. He activated the locator on Selange’s cell before making an urgent call to the President of the International Monetary Bank of Bangkok and requested the transfer. Done. Five minutes, but he told the President to wait for his call before officially sending. Eleven hours and fifty-nine minutes is when the money will appear in the scumbag’s hands. The flight from Puerto Rico to Harare was nearly fifteen hours. As he boarded the plane he got a run-down from the pilot. The Non-scheduled Over-flight Permit and Landing Permit were expedited and approved.
Alfonzo nodded. He wasn’t listening really. Giuseppe had a head start by several hours. He was closer. This is when a young brother released his breath and for the first time put all his faith…every damn belief he had in his blood. Rank wasn’t important. Neither status nor any of that bull-shit they fought over mattered right now. He gave it up, every piece of it. With his heart he believed in Giuseppe.
‘Get my daughter, save my wife grande fratello and Ari. Save me brother by saving my loves. I am too far. I cannot move mountains. No army that I possess can reach those shores. My reach is not that long. I am only a man and politics will prevent aiding my cause.’
Keep me alive.
I trust in you.
You are my hope.
Mi familia.
Por favor Giuseppe…por favor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
After seven hours and twenty minutes Giuseppe’s plane was on the ground. Jeeps paid by cash in large bags with guides barreled over dirt roads on the outskirts of the city of Zimbabwe. Dusty night and darkness with biting insects clipping off tiny pieces of his flesh drew a hand to smack them away with annoyance. He’d spoken to Allie again. She calmed knowing he was almost there and her father was as well.
An Uncle brought along his finest. They would find Selange and Ari, but first he must secure his frightened niece. By escort to his plane she’d go…safe…fed and taken home. After that his fate and that of his family was anybody’s guess. This land was not theirs. There were too many political factions and militia to effectively tame. He’d brought along several soldati but against a corrupt military man named Moyo, he learned from Nico they would be outnumbered. But, he could not wait. Allie had summoned his aid. Let death be his final deed in the effort to save women and a child.
He shrugged. Then death it would be. To die honorably has always been the way of the Giacanti’s. For a coward dies a million times, they are corpses pretending to be living. He’d leave a son and hopefully a daughter. What more could he request out of an uncertain future?
They were at the location of the children’s home and he was out of the jeep, men circled the structure and he called the child’s phone, hoping she charged the device, because he often forgot. When she answered he said, “Come mio nipote. I am here, come outside.”
Before the phone went into his pocket she burst through the door. Her hair a bouncy ponytail and her face aglow, she clutched her star bag and ran like her mother. An emotionally weary Uncle sank to his knees in joy as she ran into his arms and said, “I knew you’d come Uncle…and you did.”
Giuseppe kissed her hair and her cheeks. “Sí, there is never a day I will not answer your call.”
His eyes then noticed the woman in the doorway. Sadly she watched their reunion and like a blade of grass, Giuseppe rose from the ground clutching his niece’s hand. So tight he held it, she wiggled her fingers and he loosened the grasp. Giuseppe ordered a soldati to frisk the woman and when he did not find a weapon Giuseppe motioned her forward with his finger and she obeyed. “What is your name?”
“Kefilwe.”
“Where is this man who has taken the child’s mother?”
“I do not know.”
“You lie; it is in your eyes.”
She looked down at Allie. “I am sorry girl. Forgive me.”
Giuseppe barked at his soldier. “Take the little one safely to the plane. Feed her and make certain she is delivered to the hands of mi famiglia, mi madre.”
Allie’s hand was released. An Uncle uncertain of his destiny smiled fondly down. A guardian calmed an innocent child’s fears. “Tomasino is very handy with a gun. He will get you to Sicily until your father returns for you. Aunt Shanda is baking rainbow cookies for you…only for you she has told me as a gift. Do not be afraid.”
She gave a radiant smile. “I’m not anymore. Go get mommy. Hurry!”
Tomasino lifted the child and placed her in the jeep. The driver sped away and Giuseppe watched the misty plumes until the vehicle was a dot in the distance. On Kefilwe his anger turned. “I will put a bullet in your head if you do not tell me where this person is!”
She kneeled at his feet with her head down talking to his comfortable shoes. “In the Shona culture women are expected to be obedient. Kneel in respect to our elders and for the abused without voices, husbands. My dreams were to be a doctor but when my parents died I had to provide for my younger siblings. In the diamond fields we worked. Toil for long hours for meager wages and grateful for food. Of the three in my care, only one is alive. Gamba killed them, my brothers he cut to have me bleed. He has threatened to kill my surviving brother if I did not lure the woman here. To him I have given myself for my only brother to live. Subservient and soiled like filth I beg for death at your hands. Release me from this world to roam free like the great elephants of my homeland. Warume wedu is an expression of my convictions and I sing praise.”
Giuseppe frowned. “Stand up woman. I am unaccustomed to women kneeling. Show me where this Gamba has taken mi famiglia. Your praises have fallen on deaf ears too long.”
***
“Allie?”
“Hi dad.”
“Oh hija…oh niña papa is so happy to hear you are safe. Te amo.”
“I know. I’m tired.”
“Go to sleep. You can sleep now.”
“Okay, good night.”
“Buenos noche niña,” Alfonzo said with relief as the plane continued to soar high above the sky. Three more hours, just three. Giuseppe found the location and waited. Wait, he asked his brother for him to bring more men. His head throbbed. He tried to rest during the flight but his body would not give in. His eyes were on the sky and everything he ever loved drifted in the wind.
He looked at Tony who was wide awake as the other men slept. “How’s your lady?” Alfonzo asked as a distraction.
“She’s good.”
“Set a date yet?”
“One day at a time, no rush as long as we have each other.”
Alfonzo nodded. “True that. My wife likes her; she says Allie might learn discipline through dance.”
Tony’s eyes remained level. His boss was hurting. He heard the sadness in the words. This was a man worried about his wife, wondering if he’d get a tomorrow with her. The shit sucked! “That she would. My lady is serio
us about her work.”
Alfonzo chuckled and then the sound died flat. “My woman goes hard too. She’s always been like that.”
Then Alfonzo went silent.
Tony recognized this is a part of his boss he rarely saw, wistful and tortured. Tony excused himself to use the restroom in order to give Alfonzo his space. He needed it.
Alfonzo closed his eyes, thinking, why when he was at peace shit popped off out of nowhere? He shook his head. Man, he’d stopped expecting peace. Alfonzo surmised peace is what comes when you die. You get an eternal rest. He put his feet up, slumped down. It’s true that music soothes. It’s like a good woman.
His lips curled. Ironic, in a few more weeks it’d be his birthday. He’d caught wind of his wife’s plan to throw this huge bash in Costa Rica. What the hell, right now he’d just settle for a piece of ass at home. Planning didn’t feel right anymore…it’s like wishing or dreaming. I wish to live to my birthday. I’m dreaming of having a birthday. Coño, maybe it’s best to just pretend that every day is a birthday. Fuck it all. He took a sip of rum from the cute little bottle. He hadn’t drunk in days. He wanted to cut back; too bad he wasn’t as successful curtailing bad language. You can’t win ‘em all, he thought, but for Allie he’d keep trying. Yeah, for his niña he’d do anything.
Another sip and then he closed his eyes as the music took him to another place. Dancing with his babe, kissing upon her face, touching her skin and worshipping the shit out of her pussy with his mouth is a birthday celebration.
A weak smile, turned downward as lyrics beat up his soul.
‘I can't really explain what it is she does,
But um, whatever it is,
It's um, simply, simply amazing,
Her head is on my chest, sun comes rolling in,
We're lost in these covers, and all I feel is skin,
I slowly kiss your face, beautiful in every way, you are -you are,
See I'm a man that don't believe in much,
But I'll be damned, if I don't believe in us,