Mr. Mysterious In Black

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Mr. Mysterious In Black Page 21

by S. Ann Cole


  “Do you want us to drill them, Sir?”

  “No. I want to know who really sent them, and they’ll only tell you whatever name comes to their lips. They see me, they’ll know better than to bullshit me.”

  “Okay, Sir. On it.”

  Natalio clicked off the call and looked out his window just in time to see Kelsy’s convertible zing past his Bentley in the opposite direction. She was driving, and his heart constricted at her weariness. As swift as the car had passed, he’d noticed her pallor; because when it came down to her, all his senses were sharp. She was that important to him.

  That she even had to spend over a day in a stinking jail cell made him all the more irate. He’d warned her about Devon, but he guess he should’ve warned her about her own best friends, too.

  A few weeks back, he’d gotten the heads up that there were plans to clip Tevin’s wings. The blasted idiot had painted a bull’s-eye on his forehead by bragging to the wrong people about his bunker. He’d never paid much attention to the news of Tevin’s inevitable culling, because he didn’t like backing druggies and he cared not that the numbskull was Sadie’s best friend. When he’d gotten a phone call that informed him of Sadie being embroiled in a police chase with Tevin, however, in that same hour, he was jetting out of Tokyo.

  Upon landing a couple of hours ago, it came to his ears that the men’s plan to find Tevin’s bunker was being executed this night. By the time he was leaving Sergeant Smith’s office where he’d made his visit to redeem his favor of having Sadie released from that filthy jail cell, he was alerted that she and Kelsy were heading straight into the men’s hands.

  He wouldn’t say he’d been worried, or panicked, or frantic. Maybe if it was just Kelsy. Because, though Sadie didn’t know it, she was known and respected by all toppers in LA. They see her, and they’d think twice about touching so much as a hair on her head.

  It was known. She was Nelly’s.

  Taking all the credit for her respect wouldn’t be fair. She’d earned it on her own. She’d spent the last six years being a don’s Donna. Of course, Cali D wasn’t in his strata, but he’d still been a don, for a while, at least. He couldn’t speak on behalf of their relationship aspect, but he knew her respect came from her die-heartedness and her loyalty. In the midst of his deals, chases and shoot outs, she was there.

  What she didn’t know was that those natural characteristics were what every leader sought for in their women. And all had rated her for it. Nevertheless, Cali D was dead now. Which meant his rotting bones couldn’t have saved a single bone of hers from being broken. Thus, it all came down to the fact that she was Nelly’s. She’d been Nelly’s seven years ago, there was a hiatus with Cali D, but she still was Nelly’s and forever will be. Cali D was temporary, even his life was. You live your life fast and illegal, it automatically becomes a short-term life. There was no growing old in this shit.

  As his driver careened onto Tevin’s complex and came to a brief halt at the facade of the unlawfully earned house, he dipped into his duffel bag and retrieved his disguising hat with attached hair. Not many people knew that Nelly was Natalio Nelson. It was a secret he’d fought to keep. For the majority, his identity was befitting to the description of blue eyes and fourteen-inch black hair, not the trimmed-hair billionaire that he really was. To maintain that image, he’d had this hat custom-made ever since his fourteen inches of hair had been cruelly trimmed. When he was to face criminals, he would simply pull on his hat. There was no telling the difference between Nelly back then and now.

  He strapped on his foot weapon and attached his CZ 75 Matte to his belt. For him, weapons weren’t necessarily needed; he was confident enough in his status to know that none of these men would try anything dumb. Stepping from the car, he held up five fingers to his driver, Moore. It shouldn’t take him more than two minutes to get a name out of these klutzes, but five minutes was practical enough for Moore to send off an alarm, should anything go awry.

  Firm, purposeful and determined feet jaunted into Tevin’s house, a house he was more than familiar with. The very night Sadie had told him that Devon had been shooting suspicious questions about Tevin, he’d sent his men to have this place under surveillance. He’d wanted to know what it was that Devon was after, so he’d had them set up cameras in the house, all to Tevin’s obliviousness. As a so-called gangster, Tevin didn’t seem to protect himself very well. Guess he thought of himself as invincible. Because just as his men had been in and out of this place as if they owned it, someone with wits parallel to his could’ve done the same. No wonder those men got in.

  Despite all the trouble, though, he’d never uncover Tevin’s underground stack. So maybe the boy did have a bit of tidiness in him. Who would’ve thought it could only be located by a concentrated foot pattern? He had to nod his head once at such an ingenious move.

  The sound of his heavy boots thudded off the laminate stairs as he descended down to the basement. There were five men, unmasked and on their knees with their heads bowed while his men held them captive. His eyes made one quick sweep around the sizeable basement, picking up the images of stacks upon stacks of cocaine, guns and ammunition, then landed back on the men.

  “Heads up,” he commanded.

  The men snapped their heads up in unison. There was utter quietness for a brief moment, and then came a string of swear words and self-beatings of “I knew this would happen.” Fear was etched on their faces most prominently, and their eyes pleaded for mercy.

  “I swear, Nelly, we never harmed your girl. We had no idea she’d be here,” spoke the last man on the left.

  “Who sent you?”

  A hush came over them as they all traded glances, no doubt weighing if they should lie or not.

  “Think well and clear about the consequences if you give me a false name,” he warned. There wasn’t much that he had to say to these guys, they were just minions of their sender. They were just following orders. And he knew well enough that some of them didn’t have a choice. He also knew that giving the right name of the sender could cost them their lives just as much as giving the wrong name would. But so far, as long as he’d been playing this game, he’d never been lied to.

  He was Nelly.

  And Nelly was the most feared and respected by all crooks in LA.

  “Just tell him, T,” hissed one of the men.

  The left end man stuttered it out. “D-D-De-Devon.”

  That’s no surprise. He’d guessed it was Devon, but he’d wanted to know for sure. There was also the knowledge of Devon’s new activities, and he tried to calm his heart at how close she could have come to being kidnapped… “What were the plans?”

  “Just to get the stacks,” one of them shot quickly. But when his colleague next to him elbowed his ribs, he added, “And…and kidnap Tev’s girl to sell to Mashan.”

  “Is Mashan here in LA?”

  “No. Devon is to deliver the girls to him next week.” The guy swallowed. “Nelly, we aren’t as stupid to even of think of doing that to your girl. When we saw her, the kidnapping plan was gone to hell, because we weren’t taking that risk. Please, we were just following orders.”

  Natalio bit his lip from swearing as his hands fisted in his jacket pocket. Where the hell was Devon finding these girls so quickly? It had only been two weeks ago he’d busted Devon’s fifteen-girl trade, based on a tip he’d gotten. Unfortunately, Devon wasn’t at the location when Sergeant Smith had arrived and they’d only managed to save the girls.

  This drug and human trafficking taking over the city was irking him no end. And he wanted to get rid of these monsters as best he could. He wouldn’t be hypocritical, because he had a lot of acquaintances scattered around the world who were dealing hands in the drug business. But he only kept those acquaintances because of their stances, so he could seek favors and cry on someone’s behalf when they needed a way out of such lifestyle. Believe it or not, many men were trapped in this shit. And the only way out was death. Whenever he came across wis
tful souls like those, he’d use his powers to help them out of it.

  But men like Devon just pissed him the hell off. The greedy piece of shit kept jumping from one illegal boat to the next. This human trafficking biz had knocked him completely off his acquaintance list, and straight onto his shit list. He wanted to see that sonuvabitch jailed. For heartless monsters like Devon, death was too quick and easy. Taking away their freedom, which gave them no choice but to sit in a cage and have daily retrospections of all the cruelness they’d inflicted, while their conscience ate away at them, causing them to suffer internally each day, was much better punishment. This was why he’d made himself favored with the county’s security forces and lent aid in taking down these assholes whenever they got too heinous.

  Without another word, he signaled his main man, Ruddy, and started up the basement stairs, Ruddy close behind him as he made long, powerful strides throughout Tevin’s ransacked house. When they’d reached outside, into the darkness of the night and standing by his Bentley, Ruddy made a malevolent curl of his lips as he asked, “What should we do with them, Sir? Dump them?”

  Natalio almost winced at the man’s words. Ruddy was always eager to take a life, and such was not a characteristic of his. He wasn’t a fan of killing and blood-shedding, even though he was surrounded by people who reveled in such acts. You could say he was anti-murder, if such a term exists. “No, Ruddy. Nobody’s dying tonight,” he answered, sending his eyes heavenward. “Let them go with all the stacks. At least, let them think you’re letting them go. Put a tracker on their getaway vehicle, and then tip the cops on their location. Also, disconnect all the cameras in the house. Make sure team B gets to Devon’s place before I do. Let me know when it’s concluded.”

  Ruddy rubbed his hands together and nodded a “Yes, boss.”

  Natalio regarded his burly, shaven-headed main man with a sigh. He knew the man well enough to know that those orders wouldn’t be performed as smoothly as he’d spoken them. Ruddy, he was positive, would lay major damage on those men before releasing them. Ruddy didn’t play nice. If he didn’t see blood, his day wouldn’t be made.

  As Ruddy headed off to do his blood-spilling, he dipped into the back of his Bentley, ripped off his hat and muttered “Devon” to his driver.

  It was no surprise that Devon’s high gates were wide open when Moore slipped the car through them and pulled up next to a slick black Corvette that belonged to his buddy. His second team was overseen by that chum, Darren. It was a team that was rarely called on, but with much on hand tonight, everyone was on duty. There was no doubt Darren already had Devon just the way he wanted him: cowering.

  As he exited the car, he had to shake his head at the gushing fountains and marble-tiled pillars of Devon’s Mediterranean-designed house, knowing that this posh lifestyle came from the suffering, blood-shedding and soul stealing of innocent people. If he could, legally, have a wrecking ball demolishing all these criminally earned homes, he would.

  There was really no need for him to make this visit to Devon, he could’ve just had Darren take care of it. But he wanted Devon to see exactly who was about to drag him down from his high horse.

  Before he could turn the door handle, Darren, dressed in a sharp gray suit with his thick auburn hair gelled back in a side-part style, swung it open and grinned at him. He bumped his best friend’s shoulder and slapped him a manly hug. “Where’s the asshole?”

  “In here,” Darren answered, leading him into a spacious, leaf-green living area.

  Sight caught hold of a half-dressed and trembling Devon seated, hands bound, on his sofa while two men had their guns holding him target. Devon glanced up as Natalio approached, recorded who it was, and swore, “Fuck.”

  Natalio smoothly eased down in the sofa chair opposite to Devon and crossed his legs. “Hello, Dev.”

  “Look, Nelson, you told me to stay away from your girl, and I did. My shit was with Tev. She was in jail, I had no idea she’d be there.”

  Natalio gave a ‘tsk tsk’ as he steepled his hands under his chin. “But you didn’t stay away. Avoiding her meant that you were to avoid everyone in her proximity. Not culling and kidnapping her best friends.”

  Devon’s eyes widened. He didn’t expect Natalio to have knowledge of his human trafficking, nor would he have imagined his men would’ve spilled so damn much. “I-I…not her, though…I would never hurt her. Despite what you think, I really liked her—” Devon snapped his mouth shut when he noticed Natalio’s face darkening. “I’m sorry…I never—who do you think called the cops on Tevin?”

  Natalio lifted his brow in a way that silently told Devon to elaborate. He didn’t have much to say to the guy. In fact, he normally didn’t have to say much to people, his presence was unnerving enough. After all, he was who he was.

  “Tevin was heading straight into a death trap,” Devon rushed out. “The delivery was a set-up for east men to get him where they wanted him. Nobody gives a shit if Tevin lives or die anymore, because everyone’s in a rat race for this underground stack he’s been yapping about. I doubt the dude’s even gonna make it outta jail alive, and if he does, he’ll be dead before the day’s end. You know he was in on Cali D’s murder with those Cubans, right?”

  Natalio raised his brow higher this time at this man’s inane question. What didn’t he know? It was just a bit of info that he’d kept his mouth shut about for Sadie’s sake. Besides, the chap did him a favor in swiping the Italian shit out of Cali D.

  Devon hurried on when he got the picture that this wasn’t a goddamn friendly conversation between them. “When I heard that Sadie was with him on his way to make the delivery, I had to stop it somehow. Those men who were after Tevin are trigger-happy youngsters who don’t yet know how this game works. Nor do they know who’s who. They would’ve killed her, Nelson. Of course, you would’ve gotten them back, but that wouldn’t have brought her back.”

  Thankful to his well practiced display of impassivity, Devon, nor anyone else in the room could’ve detected the turmoil roiling inside him at the words “they would’ve killed her.”

  They would’ve killed her…They would’ve killed her…They would’ve killed her.

  Disliking the mood that those words had washed over him, he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. He needed to get this over with, and leave. If he didn’t get the hell out of there and receive some assurance from Ralph that Sadie was safe and sound, at least, he thought he might collapse. “So what, you expect me to thank you?”

  Devon hung his head, tugging at his restraints, not daring to answer.

  “Where are they, Dev?” he asked, skipping the middle and jumping to the end. Plans to torment Devon were now abridged. He wouldn’t be able to conduct such without word on Sadie’s safeness.

  Devon eyed him warily. “They who?”

  “The girls you’ve gleaned for trading to Mashan.”

  Devon’s face crumpled in dread, his eyes expanding. “Nelson, please, don’t do this. Mashan will have my head if I don’t get these girls to him. Shit went askew with the last batch and my life is on the line. This trip to Russia has to be made by—”

  “I don’t give a shit!!” Natalio barked. “Young girls, Dev? Really? You have a wife and two young daughters, for Christ’s sake! How would you like it if someone should kidnap your pretty, brown-haired, brown-eyed daughters and barter them to Russians? Those girls are living human beings who have their whole life ahead of them. They have families and friends who love them and are probably bawling their eyes out right now thinking that they’re dead!”

  A look of embarrassment crossed Devon’s features, but Natalio’s patience candle had burned right out. In one swift move, he was on his feet and stalking out the house. The dirty job of torturing for information wasn’t his.

  “Nelson? Nelson, where you going? I don’t trust these guys, Nelson!!” Devon hollered in plea.

  Natalio was, the majority of the time, a man of leniency. It’s one of
the prime reasons why he was most revered. Sensible people knew that it was cowards who killed on a whiff. And that it was shrewd, firm men who left you on the rope for you to hang yourself. No one ever understood his contrary and enigmatic persona, so to be safe, they tried to stay on his good side. Because one never knew what Nelly would do.

  For this reason, Devon howled for his life. Devon knew that with Natalio present, there were definite chances of getting off the hook easily. Leaving him with his men, however, was never a good sign. Because, in his absence, his men did whatever they pleased.

  At that moment, Natalio could care less. He was done for the night. He’d asked Devon once and the man chose to keep sealed lips. Asking a second time wasn’t his style. He never asked anything twice. Therefore, Natalio didn’t so much as glance back as Devon bellowed for his return.

  When he exited the house, Natalio, rubbing his forehead at an emergent headache, turned to Darren who’d been sticking closely to his heels. “Get it out of him. When you learn where these girls are being held hostage, put Sergeant Smith on it. Don’t get in the way. I don’t want you in any more shit, D. I want you to remain clean.”

  Slick and smooth in his suit and gelled hair, Darren nodded in understanding. Apart from his brothers, Darren was the only man he could trust. Hell, he essentially considered the man as his brother. “What about his wife and daughters who’re to be here soon? I wouldn’t want them walking in on—”

  “A flat tire has rendered them a missed flight. So you don’t have to worry about them coming in tonight.”

  Darren nodded again, then eyed him with concern. “You okay, Nel?”

  What kind of stupid ass question is that? “Of course I’m not goddamn okay. She doesn’t want me anymore and there isn’t a flipping thing that I, my money or my status can do about that! That night lent all of us pain. But seven years later, I’m the only one who’s still suffering.” Turning on his heels, he flounced off in a fit of pique, leaving a worried Darren staring after him from the doorway. He folded into the back seat of his car and slammed the door shut.

 

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