CV soldier?
The male stopped the bike next to Cardoza’s BMW, dismounted, laid the bike on its side, took off his cap and hung it on the handlebars, unslung the backpack, crouched next to the driver door, laid on his side, and disappeared from Molka’s view under the vehicle, pulling the backpack with him.
Seconds later, he reemerged from under the car with the backpack, stood, re-slung the backpack, put his cap back on, raised his bike, re-mounted, and rode fast in the direction from which he came.
Did that CV guy just plant a car bomb?
And if he did, Abreu must have ordered it.
Right?
Molka left her gear bag and trotted back down the castle stairs.
It took Molka almost 15 minutes at a fast-jogging pace to move through the park behind buildings to avoid being seen from Cardoza and his boy’s location, exit through the south entrance she breached earlier, and reach Cardoza’s car.
She squatted beside the driver's door, glanced behind her to make sure no one else approached, laid on her side, and poked her head under the car to look for a bomb.
Sure enough, attached to the floorplate under the driver’s seat position was a tablet-sized, black metal box that could easily contain enough plastic explosive to convert Cardoza’s expensive German import into an unrecognizable scrap pile along with anyone riding inside.
Molka’s mind rolled back. After a terrorist’s car bomb killed her little Janetta, Molka took an interest in how those bombs worked. Some might have thought it macabre, but it was part of her grieving process.
She talked to an explosive device disposal specialist in the Unit who defused and studied many types of car bombs.
He told her about how very sophisticated and well-engineered devices that were remotely triggered by a radio signal or some kind of wireless cellphone-type signal—she didn’t quite understand all the technical terms he spoke about—were sometimes also rigged with an additional manual triggering system designed to detonate if someone tried to remove the device.
According to Major Fernandes, Abreu trained in the Middle East with expert car bomb makers. And if one of Abreu’s soldiers placed the bomb, Abreu must have made it.
Molka eased her head back from under the vehicle.
She would not dare remove the device.
But she would compliment Raziela on her instinct that Abreu might try to make Cardoza his next victim after receiving the money.
Fifteen minutes later, Molka returned to her castle perch.
Still almost three hours until the meeting.
She pulled a bottled water from the gear bag, picked the cleanest looking—and smelling corner—sat with her back in it, drank half the water, closed her eyes, and tried not to think about car bombs and what they did to innocent little 11-year-old girls.
At 3:30 PM Molka stood, and binocular scanned the west side parking lot for Abreu’s arrival. No intelligence she received said he would park there, but it made sense in that entrance was the closest to the direction of the favela from which he would come. Just as the east side was closest to Copacabana Beach, where Cardoza presumably came from.
Her view of the west side lot looked past a two-story building—made to imitate an old-style train station—at the northmost end of Main Street facing the building Cardoza and his boys waited in at the street’s opposite end.
A glint of light from an open second-floor window in the train station obscured Molka’s view a moment.
She refocused her binoculars on the window and viewed a teen boy with binoculars viewing the Cardoza building.
And behind him, in the large room, more male figures moved around.
Many more.
Dozens and dozens.
All held AK-47s and other assault-style weapons.
Um…why is that room filled with armed combatants?
CHAPTER 53
And how did all those armed combatants get in the park and get up there without me seeing them?
Molka remained focused on the threat.
Maybe they were there first.
CV soldiers, pre-positioned by Abreu.
For what?
Security?
A little much for that.
To kill Cardoza?
A little much for that too.
And isn’t that what the car bomb was for?
No. The car bomb was just a backup plan. Abreu anticipated Cardoza would bring his boys, so he brought the firepower to cut right through them.
She misjudged Abreu’s intentions, and so did Cardoza. But what to do about it? Her instructions were to safeguard Cardoza from Abreu during their final encounter.
A post-meeting verbal warning to Cardoza would defense Abreu’s car bomb.
But it would take more than his 24 boys and the 20-rounds in her M4 and the 10-rounds in her Ruger to protect him from the more than 50 CV soldiers she counted.
Molka lowered the binoculars, replaced them in the gear bag, slung the bag back over her left shoulder, and trotted down the stairs.
Molka chose a route behind various structures and rides to conceal herself from Abreu’s lookout.
She arrived at the movie theater’s doorless rear and entered. If the building had ever been a functioning movie theater, all the seats, the screen, and anything else movie theater-related had been removed, leaving a dark, concrete-floored space where 24 armed boys crouched and awaited orders and Cardoza and Leonardo stood peering out windows in the theater’s closed front double doors toward Main Street.
Molka hung back in the shadows and called out in Portuguese: “Cardoza, it’s Molka. I’m coming in. Tell your boys not to shoot me.”
Cardoza ordered his boys in Portuguese: “Stay calm, boys, a friend’s coming in.”
Molka approached Cardoza.
Cardoza switched to English. “What an unexpected surprise. I agreed to surrender myself to you in my office in about two hours. However, I assume they sent you here to make sure I would actually show up, correct?”
Molka answered in English. “Something like that.”
“How did you know I would be here?”
“That doesn’t matter. I’m here to warn you now.”
“Warn me about what?” Cardoza said.
“You think you’ve brought enough security for this meeting, but Abreu has outplayed you.”
Cardoza smiled. “Never. How do you mean?”
“He has a lookout in the train station at the other end of the street who’s had you under observation since you arrived. And waiting inside that building with him are over 50 well-armed soldiers. And there’s only one logical reason he brought all that firepower. He’s going to kill you and all your people when he gets the money.”
Cardoza flashed a perplexed face. “Why would he want to kill us all after we completed an agreement on his ridiculously favorable terms?”
“I don’t know,” Molka said. “Some people just enjoy killing.”
Cardoza smiled again. “Impossible. Alejandro is not intelligent or ambitious enough to organize such a thing.”
Molka laid her gear bag on the floor. “Many commanders have had their commands wiped out underestimating an opponent’s intelligence and ambitions. But don’t take my word for it. Go upstairs in the Fantasy Castle and look for yourself. You can see them clearly from there.”
Cardoza addressed Leonardo. “Go check it out. Stay out of sight of that train station building.”
“Yes, Mr. Cardoza.”
“Here, take these.” Molka bent, removed the binoculars from her gear bag, and handed them to Leonardo. “I’ll wait here for you to bring them back.”
Twenty-two minutes later, by Molka’s old pilot’s watch, Leonardo returned via the back entrance displaying an alarmed expression.
He handed Molka her binoculars back, approached Cardoza, and spoke in English. “She is correct, Mr. Cardoza. There is a lookout and at least fifty armed men. I recognize a few of them. All hardcore, crazy CV shooters.”
Cardoza g
azed out the window in the double doors again toward the train station, and then he spun and faced Molka. “Even if he does have that many soldiers here, are you suggesting that my boys and me just turn around and walk away?”
“No,” Molka said. “I’m suggesting that you and your boys just turn around and RUN away. While you still have a chance.”
Leonardo moved beside Cardoza and added his nervous gaze out the window. “Maybe she is right, Mr. Cardoza.”
Cardoza shook his head. “No.” He turned and faced his boys. “I handpicked these boys and oversaw their training. And no fifty, drunk-high, braindead CV losers ever made can stand up to my boys. Not even eighty or a hundred could. And for Alejandro Abreu to believe otherwise is a deeply personal insult.”
Molka grimaced. “Excuse me for just figuring this out. But you didn’t bring six million reais to give to him. You brought about 6000, AK-47 and light machinegun rounds to give him instead. Which means you both planned to give the other a bloodbath ending. He’s a psychopathic killer. What’s your excuse?”
Cardoza used his left forefinger and thumb to twist the thick gold ring on his right middle finger. “My father said, when it comes to extortionists, if you give in to the first one, no matter where you go, you will be plagued with them for the rest of your life. However, if you violently eliminate the first one, you will never be extorted again. I intend never to be extorted again.”
“But this isn’t just all about you now.” Molka turned to the Ghost Crew members and spoke in Portuguese. “Boys, you’re going to be ambushed by the CV. The CV are here right now in superior numbers to you. More than 50. The CV are here to kill you. You need to leave this park immediately.”
The boys turned concerned faces toward Cardoza.
Cardoza moved closer to his boys and spoke in Portuguese. “Ghost Crew captains, Ghost Crew members, my thieves in law, what is the most important of the thief in law rules?”
The boys stood and said in unison: “I swear on pain of death my unconditional loyalty to the boss and will obey all his orders without question.”
Cardoza nodded. “And my orders are for you to stay and protect your boss whatever may come on this day.”
The boys in unison: “Yes, boss!”
Leonardo turned his uneasy face away from the door window and addressed Cardoza. “Mr. Cardoza, I know my employment with you ends today at 6 PM, and I appreciate the good job you gave me these past years, but I think I will resign now and leave.”
Cardoza frowned. “Very well. I don’t need you anymore anyway. Give me my car key.”
Leonardo removed a black fob from his front pocket and tossed it toward Cardoza.
Molka stepped in the flight path and intercepted it. “I’ll take that. You won’t be driving that car anywhere.”
Crew captain Romário pointed out the window. “Boss, Abreu’s bitch is here.”
Leonardo headed for the rear exit.
Molka and Cardoza moved to look out the window.
Felipe entered Main Street from a side street and moved toward the Wishing Well.
Molka turned back to the boys. “Boys, please leave now. Please!”
Cardoza yelled at Molka. “Stop talking to them! They will not obey you! They only follow my orders!” He calmed his tone. “We will end this shortly. Until then, I ask that you please stay out of my way.”
“Oh, I’m going to stay out of your way, alright,” Molka said. “I’m going to stay, way out of your way.” She moved back to her gear bag, picked it up, and placed the binoculars inside. “Nothing in my instructions said anything about getting myself in the middle of a one-sided firefight.” She slung the bag over her left shoulder and headed toward the rear exit. “I’ll be back to escort you out of the park when it’s over. Maybe.”
CHAPTER 54
Molka returned again to her castle perch position to watch.
She didn’t really want to.
But every massacre should have a witness.
She took out the binoculars and focused on Main Street.
Felipe sat on the Wishing Well’s edge facing the theater.
Romário—apparently, Cardoza’s new right hand after Leonardo’s prudent resignation—exited the theater without his weapon and approached Felipe.
Felipe stood and moved toward Romário.
They met about 10-meters from the well.
The second-in-commands discussing the meeting parameters, perhaps?
A moment later, Romário turned back toward the theater and waved.
Felipe turned back toward the train station and waved.
Cardoza exited the theater and walked slowly up Main Street.
Abreu exited the train station and walked slowly down Main Street.
Both men carried confident smiles as they approached each other at a distance of about 50 meters.
At about 30 meters distance, Cardoza stopped.
Abreu stopped.
Molka winced. Here it comes.
Cardoza dropped flat.
Abreu dropped flat.
Cardoza’s boys burst from the theater’s double doors and charged forward.
Abreu’s boys burst from the train station’s double doors and charged forward.
Felipe pulled a pistol from his jeans and shot Romário in the head.
Abreu jumped up, and he and Felipe ran for cover behind the stone well.
Fire exploded from both charging sides.
The Abreu numbers advantage took immediate control.
A few Abreu boys fell.
But over ten Cardoza boys fell.
The rest laid flat and fired for their lives.
More Abreu boys fanned out on the flanks and moved while firing to encircle Cardoza and seal his last stand.
Cardoza ordered his boys forward into the flanker’s fire.
They rose and charged.
Cardoza jumped up and ran away, cowering behind their protective firing wall.
Terrified boy faces watched him run and yelled in desperation after him:
“NO, BOSS!”
“COME BACK, BOSS!”
“DON’T LEAVE US, BOSS!”
“BOSSSSS!”
Cardoza kept running until he escaped Main Street.
He never looked back.
After his disappearance, only six Ghost Crew members survived.
They dropped flat again to avoid the bullet storm.
The bullet storm lowered and began to rake the pavement.
It walked toward the survivors.
Two panicked and sprung up and tried to run.
Both were cut down.
The remaining four tossed aside their weapons, raised their hands, and screamed they surrendered.
Abreu ordered his boys to ceasefire.
They complied.
Abreu and Felipe stood from their protected position.
Abreu pointed at the Wishing Well. “Bring those pussies over here and kneel them on the edge.”
Abreu’s boys ran to their prisoners, dragged them to the Wishing Well, and made them kneel on the edge facing the well’s depths with their hands on top of their heads.
“Initiation time!” Abreu turned to Felipe. “Bring out the rookies!”
Felipe ran back inside the train station.
The Abreu boys formed a circle around the Wishing Well and started a gang slang chant.
Molka reassessed the situation.
She guessed what came next.
Abreu would have the “rookies” get their gang “initiation” by having them execute the prisoners.
She couldn’t just sit there and watch that.
And she couldn’t just run away either.
But her 30 total rounds couldn’t stop their still over 40 plus guns.
She viewed the dead Ghost Crew members again.
Maybe get down there and grab one of their weapons without being seen and use it with hers to even the odds. She couldn’t kill them all before they got her, so it would have to be a quick hit and run.
If she could scatter or put the Abreu boy’s heads down for a moment, the Cardoza boys might have a chance to run away. And her too.
Molka grabbed her gear bag, ran down the stairs, behind the buildings to shield her movements from Abreu’s position, into the theater’s back door, crossed the space, dropped her gear bag, and peered out the open double doors.
Abreu’s boys continued their chant circle.
Molka viewed the nearest bodies for a ready-to-use weapon.
Lying beside one of the closest—so one of the first to fall—was an M249 light machine gun known as the SAW for Squad Automatic Weapon. Attached to it was a 200-round box magazine.
Please tell me it’s still fully loaded!
Molka removed the M4 from the gear bag, cocked the weapon, and exited the theater in a crouch-run.
She reached the dead boy with the SAW.
He lay on his right side.
A bright red blood pool seeped from beneath him.
His child-like, open-eyed face stared into eternity.
Molka grimaced.
What a senseless waste.
Cardoza, you bastard.
Abreu’s boys continued their chant circle.
No one looked the 40 meters down the street her way.
Molka slung the M4 on her back and picked up the SAW.
By the weight, the magazine held a full load of 5.56-millimeter.
Felipe led two younger teens to the Wishing Well: the rookies.
Abreu’s boys continued their chant circle.
Felipe handed the rookies pistols.
Molka pulled back and pushed forward the SAW’s charging handle.
The rookies moved behind the Cardoza boys.
Molka clicked the fire selector switch from semi to fully automatic.
Abreu’s boys ceased their chant.
Abreu addressed the rookies. “You want to be CV. You got to kill the enemy!” He pointed at the petrified Cardoza boys. “They’re the enemy!”
The rookies aimed their pistols at the Cardoza boy’s heads.
Molka sprung up, raised the weapon, braced the butt against her right shoulder, aimed above the mob’s heads, and fired:
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