by Brick
“You probably shouldn’t be here after hours,” the kid had said to me. He said it in a sense that he was warning me but not threateningly so. That night, it was reported that the DA’s office had been burned to the ground. Although I’d put the biggest criminal in Atlanta behind bars, people at the DA’s office treated me as if I had the black plague from that day forward.
When word got around that Lu Orlando had been murdered in prison, Damien made his presence in my life more prevalent. My car was blown up, my house was burned down, and I was stalked mercilessly. It had gotten so bad that I holed myself up in a hotel room under a fake name. I couldn’t trust anybody. I thought for sure Lu would have me killed from beyond the grave. That was, until Caltrone called me and told me his grandson would no longer be an issue for me.
I didn’t know what he had said to the man, but Damien stopped his tyranny. He was still causing hell in Atlanta, but he left me alone. During that brief phone call, Caltrone insisted I continue to live my life as I did before.
“So why not help take Damien down same as his father?”
“Damien will meet his end soon enough. That isn’t my concern at the moment,” Caltrone said in a tone that told me that part of our discussion was over. “You should get dressed and grab everything you need. Based on the information you and Antonio have given me, my leads tell me Mexico is our next destination.”
My eyes widened. The man moved fast, but I was so damn happy he’d found something. I’d run into a brick wall, but Mexico? How the hell had she gotten into Mexico? My heart raced as I rushed to my room to grab my bags. I hadn’t brought much with me, just a purse and a small duffle bag with the necessary toiletries and a change of clothes. Packing hadn’t really been on my mind when I’d flown out here. It was easy to get a private flight into Cuba when you threw Caltrone’s name around.
Mexico? My baby had been taken to Mexico. I prayed to every god I knew in that moment.
I was just about to knock on Antonio’s door when I saw Caltrone already there. To see him and Antonio standing next to one another, the similarities in looks smacked me dead in the face.
I’d never understand how I didn’t put two and two together before now. But I didn’t have time to beat myself up over it. Dressed simply in denim jeans and a red tank top with calf-high combat boots, I was ready to go.
I didn’t have much else to say to Antonio. He didn’t want me here. He’d made that painfully clear. He swore I’d come only to defy him. I didn’t know how he felt that way when I had no idea he was coming in the first place. My only goal was to find Jewel. I needed my baby back home. She had barely lived life. She had so much more life ahead of her. To think some asshole could convince her to run away was baffling.
Jewel was an otherwise smart child. What in hell could Antonio have done to make her run off like that? No, I wasn’t blaming him. I simply wanted to know the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Caltrone had a black SUV drive us to a private airstrip. The jet we were getting on was a magnificent beauty. The cream-colored aircraft may have looked plain on the outside but once inside, I could see Caltrone was indeed a man who liked the finer things in life. The forward cabin consisted of four single cream-colored leather seats in club configuration. The seats had telescoping headrests, electric recline, electric leg rests, electric seat bottom cushion tilting, and swivel capabilities.
The place was spotless. Everything sparkled and shined like the jet had just been purchased fresh from the showroom floor. I didn’t want to be near Antonio’s rage and anger so I opted to grab a seat across from Caltrone, and I hoped Antonio would sit next to his father. My wish was granted a short time later.
“We’re ready for takeoff, Senor Orlando,” a woman’s voice said over the speaker system. She sounded like a sex operator her voice was so pleasant. “Will there be anything else you need before we reach our destination?”
“No, thank you, Benita,” Caltrone answered.
It Took us less than thirty minutes to get up in the air. Three hours later, we landed in Mexico City, Mexico. While nightfall was upon us, we’d gained an hour since Mexico was one hour behind Cuba. A fleet of black SUVs were waiting for us as we exited the jet. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I decided to follow Caltrone’s lead.
The women who had been flying the jet stepped out and placed themselves in front of Caltrone. My heart just about jumped in my throat when the doors to the SUVs opened and out stepped men armed to the nines. They all stood silently watching us until a fat, older, brown-skinned Mexican man stepped out of the last SUV with a cigar in his mouth. The potbellied man frowned as the sun was directly in his eyes.
“Ay, Senor Caltrone, it is very nice of you to join me here at home,” the man greeted him, his accent so thick that, every time he spoke, the Rs in his words rolled more than once.
Caltrone nodded once. “El Capitán José Luis, thank you for hosting us.”
“Eh,” he responded. “I can assure you if I had a choice, I wouldn’t let you set foot in my towns, sí? But I do understand the nature of the visit. This is your granddaughter, sí? She who is missing, yes?”
When José Luis said yes, it sounded more like “chess.” Caltrone nodded. José Luis looked at me then to Antonio.
“And she is? No need for me to ask who he is. All you Orlando males seem to have tricky shit going on with the eye colors, sí?” he said then laughed.
“She’s my son’s wife,” Caltrone answered, unamused.
I was tempted to look at the man like he had lost his mind. Wife? Antonio’s wife? I’d rather jump in a pit of vipers. With how angry Antonio was with me being here, the pit of vipers was safer. But I knew there was a method to Caltrone’s madness so I kept my mouth shut and eyes forward.
“Ahhh, the mother of the girl, I assume. Well now, let’s get down to business, shall we? While I don’t mind you searching for your precious grandchild, I have to insist that you leave all guns and other weapons with me, eh?”
I saw Caltrone’s jaw set. Antonio frowned so hard, his forehead bunched like he smelled something foul.
“That wasn’t a part of the deal,” Caltrone uttered in a low growl.
“Sí, correct, but I know you and I don’t trust you, Caltrone. You’re an evil motherfucker and I can’t have you shooting up my home. Bad enough that I’m sure you will leave dead bodies behind, yes. But you will not be using guns to do it. The Cartel needs no more bad press than it already has. I’m sure you can understand, mi amigo. This is my turf and you must respect it same as I would have to respect your turf, sí?”
“This is bullshit,” Antonio told his father.
“Curb your tongue, mijo,” Caltrone responded. “Benita, leave the guns,” he told one of the women who had been flying the plane.
I didn’t understand why or how we were going to get anything done if we had nothing to fight with. People tended to be a lot more accommodating when they had a gun to their head.
Benita returned from the jet with a black bag and dropped it at the captain’s feet. He snapped his hand and a few of his men stepped forward to rid the women and Antonio and Caltrone of their guns. When they went to touch me, I flinched away.
Caltrone laid a hand on my shoulder and I stood still. I felt as if I was being violated. The man who searched me was too free with his damn hands. So much so that, when he was done, I kneed him in his dick. I got satisfaction when he fell to the ground clenching his dick. The captain found it comical as he spoke in Spanish to the other men, telling them I was feisty and he liked that.
“Now, I’ll leave you to your own recognizance, Caltrone, but please try not to tear up the city, sí?” the captain said with a smile that told me something sinister lived within him.
Once they drove off and we were alone, I looked at Caltrone. I didn’t think he was a man who had ever asked nicely for anything. The fact that I felt like the captain had all but punked us didn’t sit too well with me.
“Why did you do that
?” I asked Caltrone.
“Do what?” he asked.
“Give away all your weapons.”
“I could have easily come through here and done whatever the hell I wish. But I believe in order and balance, especially with a situation as delicate as this. If I’d come through here without going through the proper channels, we’d get nowhere. Besides, a man who relies only on guns is a man sure to meet his death by another’s gun. We have work to do.”
With that, Caltrone turned and briskly walked to a black van that had been sitting in the distance. The woman I knew as Benita got into the van first. She thoroughly checked it before cranking it and driving it around in circles a few times. She even sped up then stopped quickly, pumping the breaks several times. If I had to guess, I would have said she was checking to make sure nothing was wrong with it, or no one had booby-trapped it to kill Caltrone.
Once she was sure it was safe, we all hopped in with Caltrone taking the passenger seat. I slid into the far back seat, hoping Antonio would take a seat in the middle row. He didn’t. He climbed into the back seat with me, which told me he was intentionally fucking with me.
“You missed a whole damn seat,” I said. “That whole front seat and you had to come park your ass back here next to me.”
Antonio paid me no mind. I shook my head and slid over next to the window. Shit reminded me of when we were young and trying to play house. I didn’t know why he did it, but anytime I was pissed at him, he would find some way to get next to me.
“Your name etched on the seats now? I can’t sit where I want to? For the record, I was going to take the back seat anyway. I think you knew that, which is why you went for it first,” he said after a while.
I sighed and shook my head. “Why do you always feel I’m doing something to intentionally mess with you in some way, huh?”
“Because it’s what you do, Kenyetta,” he answered solemnly.
“Don’t call me that,” I snapped at him.
“Whatever.”
“Now who’s doing shit to intentionally annoy the other one?” I asked, not because he would answer, but to make a point.
Antonio said nothing. For as much as we’d grown in our careers and as parents, sometimes we fell back into our youth and immaturity.
I took in the city as we drove. The place was alive with festivities. Clearly it was a tourist attraction. People of all races and ethnicities milled about taking photos, trying new foods, laughing and dancing, with some tourists being oddly out of place. I’d been to Mexico City once before and the place was as vibrant as I’d remembered.
As we passed through the main square, known as Zocalo, I took in the pre-Hispanic ruins and majestic colonial buildings. In the surrounding streets was a cross section of Mexico City’s population. Business executives, workers, and fashionistas, as well as vendors, buskers, and Aztec dancers along with tourists and locals wandered the streets.
The van stopped just outside of a local market. I noticed that Caltrone pulled on latex gloves and a surgical face mask before he exited the van. The man had OCD and didn’t like for people to breathe on him or touch him without his consent. It wasn’t unusual to see people walking around with face masks on as some areas could be a bit dusty. Antonio helped me down after he got out of the van. I looked around, kind of anxious and nervous, hoping to see if I could spot Jewel in the crowd somewhere. I knew I was setting myself up for disappointment, but since we had touched down, nothing else had mattered to me.
I quickly caught up to Caltrone, wondering what the hell we were doing at a store. “Why are we here? At the market, I mean?” I asked him.
He spoke to Benita in Spanish before answering me. He told her to look for something that I didn’t make out since noise drowned out the tail end of his order. Caltrone glanced down at me before answering. “We need weapons,” was all he said.
I frowned a bit then looked around. The place we were in looked like a home goods store. I had no idea what kind of weapons, besides knives, we would get in a place like this one. I looked behind me and saw Antonio picking up vases, glasses, and crystals. Caltrone walked over to the bedding aisle and picked up every set of pillowcases he could find. Benita came back with a hand basket full of toothpicks, salt shakers, and bars of soap.
We bypassed about three cashiers until we got to the one with the longest line. Why we passed all the other ones until we got to this one was a mystery. The man cashing people out had a generic smile on his face, the kind that said he was only being nice to you because you were spending money.
“Gracias,” he said cheerily. “Please come back to visit us before you leave,” he told a white American couple, his Spanish accent thick.
Caltrone handed Benita all the items he had in his hands. Antonio had already gone through another line and had exited the store. For some reason, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Once we got up to the counter, the man looked at Benita and spoke to her with the same generic smile. He was about to say the same to Caltrone until he looked into his eyes. The man gasped and backed up like he had run into a wall. His eyes darted around wildly like he was looking for a way out. I didn’t know who he was, but the fact that Caltrone had rattled him told me he knew something about my child.
Caltrone didn’t say a word, but his eyes told of his intent. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, the cashier bolted toward the exit. No words needed to be said to me. I took off after him like a bat out of hell. As I bumped into people, I pushed and shoved them out of the way.
“Excuse me,” I yelled at some. “Move!” I yelled at others.
The man had a good lead ahead of me. He made it out of the store before I did, but that didn’t stop me. The heat blasted me in the face as soon as I stepped foot outside. Nothing else mattered to me in the moment. All I heard was my heart in my ears; and the thought that this man knew where my child was made me run after him like my life depended on it.
As he ran, he shoved people down and knocked over carts. The fool jumped over a table like it was a hurdle and I did the same once I came upon it. We ran past a wall that had been painted with different murals, past street vendors selling clothing, food, and other trinkets. He was running toward the Metropolitan Cathedral. I knew if he got there he could disappear inside and I would never find him. I was gaining on him as he turned down a side street. My mind was telling me I had to be careful since this was his turf. He could very well be leading me somewhere he could ambush me, but I seriously doubted it since he was running erratically. He seemed to be going nowhere. He just wanted to get away.
I was so close upon him now, I could feel his fear. I ran and leapt onto a table, then jumped off to tackle the man to the ground. We both rolled and tumbled until we bumped into the brick wall of a building behind us.
“I don’t know nothing. I don’t know nothing. I swear.”
For a moment, I looked on in confusion. That deep Spanish accent he had was gone and he sounded more American than I did.
I quickly got to my feet, breathing hard and annoyed that he made me chase him. He had fear in his eyes as he held his hands out in front of him.
“Know nothing about what? And why are you running if you know nothing?” I yelled at him.
The man was breathing so hard, it seemed as if it hurt him to do so. “Tell Caltrone I don’t know nothing, please! I don’t want to be involved.”
The man was talking in riddles, aggravating me further. All I could think about was that he might know something about the whereabouts of my daughter. I also wanted to know how he knew Caltrone, but I didn’t bother asking. When your name rang internationally like Caltrone’s did, people were bound to know you in some capacity.
I kicked the man in his dick then slapped him for good measure. He groaned out while holding his dick. “I didn’t take her. I had nothing to do with it, I swear,” he cried.
Tears blurred my eyes. How the fuck did he know a “her” had been taken in the first place? My adrenaline spiked. Rage had taken
a hold of me. I punched the man in the nose then kneed him in the face for good measure.
“Where is she?” I yelled. “Where the fuck is my daughter?”
All the man did was yell gibberish in Spanish. Some of it I could make out; some of it I couldn’t.
“Speak English or slow the fuck down so I can understand your Spanish! Either way, you better give me something concrete or you’re dead,” I threatened.
I gave a quick glance around to make sure no police or anyone else were coming. That quick diversion of my attention gave him an opening. The man grabbed my left breast and squeezed for dear life. I yelled out as he shoved me back, and I stumbled into the wall behind me. Before I could get my footing, he was running away.
I cursed myself as I got up with haste. I started after him but stopped abruptly when, out of nowhere, Tone stepped from another building and clotheslined the man. The man’s neck snapped back so hard, I thought it was broken. He was out cold on the cobblestone walkway. Tone rolled his shoulders as he stared down at the man. There was a look on his face that I remembered all too well. I found myself happy there weren’t any dogs around.
* * *
It was cold in the damp warehouse. Caltrone was upset because the place was filthy. He had taken off his shirt and the golden glow of his skin shined underneath the low-hanging lights in the space. We were back at the airstrip in one of the old warehouse buildings off in the distance. I could hear water dripping from somewhere. Benita and the other female guards stood stoic at different entrances and exit points in the building.
In front of me was the Mexican man who had run from the store. His arms were strung up above his head, his feet dangled off the floor, and tears ran down his cheeks. Blood slid down his back, chest, and abdomen. His whimpers and pleas fell on deaf ears.
“I’m going to ask you again,” Tone said. “What do you know about who has my daughter?”
“I don’t . . . I don’t know nothing. I swear on mi madre, amigo,” the man cried. “Por favor, I know nothing,” he cried. “No mas, por favor, no mas. . . .”