Suffer

by E. E. Borton

  “What really sucks for you is that you’re dead whether you pay Little Al or not,” said Grey, leaning in from the other side. “The man you hired is going to kill you. That we know for sure. As soon as the money hits his account, you were going to hit the floor with a bullet in your head. And he’d take out your family as well. He doesn’t leave anyone behind.”

  “And here’s the irony, shitbag,” said Chief, poking Ronnie in his forehead. “The woman whose son and husband you ended up getting killed is the only person who can save your miserable ass. You may want to pay attention to what she has to say. And for the record, I came very close to sneaking a bullet into that gun you had under your chin.”

  “I am listening,” said Ronnie. “I know I fucked up and I know I’ll never be able to change what’s happened, but I’ll do whatever you want me to do to keep my family safe. If I knew it would bring your boys back, I’d put a bullet in that gun myself, Kate.”

  “How touching,” said Kate, glaring. “The reason we need you alive is to get us close to Little Al. If you make that happen, your family will be safe. I’ll make no guarantees for you. This may be the last time you see them.”

  Kate and Tonya stood as Grey cut away the remaining tape, freeing him. As the women went into Jessica’s playroom, Grey and Chief stood fast. They forced Ronnie to walk around them and then followed close behind.

  Jessica was thrilled to see her father. She dropped the markers and ran to him. He pulled her up and hugged her with a tight squeeze. Kissing her cheeks and crying, he told her several times how much he loved her.

  “What’s wrong, Daddy?” asked Jessica, seeing his tears.

  “Nothing is wrong, baby girl. I’m just so glad to see you. Everything is perfect.”

  “Don’t jump the gun, Ronnie,” said Kate. “Everything is far from perfect. Abby is going to watch Jessica. You and Tonya need to come upstairs with us.”

  He wasn’t ready to leave Jessica, but he followed the group upstairs to the War Room. They took their seats around the table, and Grey and Chief grilled Ronnie about Little Al’s operation. He was very accommodating with the details, but hesitated when they asked about his involvement with Kate’s attack.

  “Your wife knows everything,” said Grey, sensing Ronnie’s shame. “You needed to be taught this lesson, but none of us believe you wanted anyone to get hurt – okay, maybe Chief does. But Kate got her pound of flesh from you, so now it’s time to come clean with Tonya. Don’t fuck up this opportunity to start over.”

  Ronnie took a moment and a deep breath. “I knew I was about to cash a giant check with the sale of the company. I went to Little Al to extend my credit and do a little celebrating at the casino in Coconut Creek. He almost didn’t give me the money since I was already in the hole for twenty-five grand, but I made him a deal he couldn’t refuse. Then Paul postponed the sale for almost two months. Everything spiraled down from there.

  “I took what was left of the loan from Little Al and went back to the casino. I was playing well and had a shot of making the first payment on time. The crazy thing is that at one point I was only $2000 away from making it. Ten hours later, I left with barely enough money for gas home.”

  “Jesus, Ronnie,” said Tonya. “You promised me. You promised on our daughter’s life you would quit and get help. All those nights I thought you were going to meetings, you were at the casino?”

  “Yes,” said Ronnie, lowering his head. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t deserve you or Jessica. The best thing for both of you would be to get as far away from me as possible.”

  “Don’t you dare,” said Tonya. “Don’t you dare try to get an ounce of sympathy from me. This is your last chance, Ronnie. Do you hear me? You swore on Jessica’s life, and now your friends are coming to collect it.”

  “You’ll have plenty of time to bust his balls when we finish with him, Tonya,” said Chief. “But right now we need information. We don’t have much time here.”

  “Tell them what they need to know and do whatever they tell you to do,” said Tonya, storming out of the War Room.

  “You are one sad sack of shit,” said Chief, shaking his head. “Sure you don’t want that bullet?”

  “Okay, Chief,” said Grey, bringing them back on course. “He’s right, Ronnie. We don’t have much time. When is Little Al expecting the money?”

  “Two days.”

  “Two days,” said Grey, rolling his eyes. “That’s plenty of time.”

  “Are you sure he knows the identity of our boy?” asked Chief.

  “He offered him to me,” said Ronnie. “Like I said, I never met him in person. He first contacted me by a note in my briefcase. I have no idea how he put it in there. Every note after had a new cell number and time I was supposed to make the call.”

  “We’re gonna need those notes,” said Chief. “Anything else, Grey?”

  “No. We’re done for now.”

  “Okay, turd. What are the rules again?”

  “No calls; no windows; no leaving the room,” said Ronnie. “The bad guy is always watching.”

  “Good boy. Now, get out of my sight.”

  Ronnie left the War Room and went straight upstairs. Grey and the team fell silent as he displayed a map of the inside of Little Al’s pawn shop on the monitor. Xs and Os started appearing on the screen, identifying the good guys from the bad as Grey typed on his laptop.

  “Reminds me of pre-game when I played football in college,” said Evan, grinning.

  Every set of eyes looked away from the monitor and focused on Evan. None of them were accompanied by grins. Evan tapped his fingers on the table and waited.

  “You did good today, son,” said Chief, taking the lead. “But all the guns pointed at us tomorrow are gonna have real bullets in them. No more jokes. Now, listen up.”

  38

  The Reaper

  GREY HELD UP A NECKLACE and glanced at his watch. He and the Chief had been inside Little Al’s pawn shop for thirty minutes. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Chief on the other side of the small shop, holding a camera. Each man had the attention of the two clerks working behind the counters on either side of the room. The muscle with the gun displayed in a shoulder holster was standing in front of a heavy steel door separating the showroom from Little Al’s office. The other clerk burst out in laughter at Chief’s joke.

  Agent Carlos Perez and one of his men were parked a block away with Evan and Ronnie in the back seat of their sedan. He held a clear view of the stand-alone building that was under their surveillance two hours before the store opened. Carlos knew his new friends were outnumbered and outgunned, but they had no choice other than moving forward with the risky plan. The element of surprise was in their favor, but the agent knew it might not be enough to overtake Little Al’s lair.

  They had very little time to get to Al and discover the identity of the unsub. The killer was expecting Ronnie to make the cash deposit in thirty-six hours. And when he did, his life was over. There was no doubt in Grey’s mind that, when the unsub realized Ronnie was in the wind, they’d lose the advantage of being on the offensive. The clock was ticking.

  “I take it this is for a special lady?” asked the clerk, helping Grey.

  “Yeah, she’s special,” said Grey, smiling. “A pain in the ass sometimes, but special.”

  “I know the feeling,” said the clerk. “I’ve been married for twelve years. I’d divorce her, but I’m scared shitless of her.”

  “I feel your pain, buddy.”

  “Hey, I’ve got a couple really nice pieces in the back,” said the clerk. “Give me a second to grab them and I’ll let you take a look.”

  “Really nice means really expensive,” said Grey, trying to keep everyone out front. “We’re not there yet. Let me see the one with the skull pendant. That has her name written all over it.”

  As the clerk reached down, the last two customers looking through a stack of DVDs left the store. Grey and Chief both concentrated on keeping their pulse
rate from elevating. Evan and Ronnie were seconds away from entering.

  Grey knew how he and Chief were going to handle the threat, but Evan and Ronnie were unknown variables. The Chief was confident Evan would step up to the plate, but Grey was less optimistic. Evan was untested in the field, and Ronnie was still shaking from the previous day’s events. They weren’t exactly Grey’s first choices for firepower if the plan fell apart.

  The imitation bell chimed through the speaker located above the entrance to the store. Ronnie walked inside, carrying a metal briefcase and looking like death. Grey could sense his uneasiness and knew the muscle at the security door would as well. The bell chimed again a few seconds later as Evan joined the party. He was on his cellphone, trying to blend in as a customer.

  “Be right with you, sir,” greeted the clerk attending to Chief.

  Ronnie walked straight to the muscle as planned. “I have something for Little Al,” said Ronnie, cracking open the case and showing the cash.

  The muscle recognized Ronnie as a repeat customer. He patted him down and told him to look into the camera above the door. When Little Al verified his identity, Grey, Chief, and Evan heard the buzz and click of the metal door unlocking. All three moved at the same time; Grey was the fastest.

  At the briefing in the War Room earlier that morning, Carlos had arrived carrying a large duffel bag. Inside were four semi-automatic pistols complete with high-end silencers. Evan tore down the dividing wall in the soundproof room so each could become familiar with the weapons. Evan had never been in a position to draw down on a human with the intent to kill, but he was by far the best shot of the three.

  When the door buzzed, Ronnie took a few steps inside the short hall and then stopped. His only job was to hold the door open for Grey and Chief. Evan turned around and locked the front door to the shop, flipped the hanging sign from open to closed, and drew the blind. Before the blind blocked any view into the shop, he saw Carlos pull the car up to the curb outside.

  Both clerks looked over at Evan locking the door. The muscle looked as well, but then snapped his head toward Grey as he rushed him. He reached for his gun, but his world went dark when Grey pressed his pistol to his chest and fired a single round. His heart exploded and pieces of it followed the bullet into the wall behind him.

  Chief had his pistol inches away from the clerk’s face who had been laughing a few seconds earlier at his jokes. Evan had his drawn and pointed at the clerk who had helped Grey. Both men were ordered to walk from behind the counter and lie on the floor in the middle of the shop. As the instructions were given to the terrified clerks, Grey had already moved down the ten foot hall to Little Al’s office. There were still two men unaccounted for.

  During the brief, Ronnie had informed Grey that Little Al had a bodyguard who was never more than a few feet away. Whenever he visited Al at the shop, the bodyguard was always sitting in a leather chair to the left of the opening to the office. Al was always behind his desk. There was no question both would be armed.

  When Grey passed Ronnie holding open the door, he switched the gun to his left hand and grabbed the metal case containing the cash with his right. Just as Ronnie described, Grey entered the office and saw the bodyguard sitting in the chair. He was making the mistake of reaching for the shotgun beside him. The sound of the two bullets impacting his skull was louder than the sound of the rounds leaving the pistol. If Al didn’t witness the contents of his bodyguard’s head painting the wall, he would’ve sworn somebody just opened two cans of soda.

  Al couldn’t move his 350 pounds fast enough to reach the sawed-off shotgun concealed under his desktop before Grey was on top of him. Little Al wasn’t concerned about the gun in Grey’s left hand. All his attention was focused on the metal briefcase hurling toward his face. He was swinging for the fences when the case made contact with Al’s nose. Blood and money rained inside the office when the case popped open after the impact. Cash fluttered to the floor where Little Al was moaning on his back.

  From the first shot to the money storm, less than ten seconds had passed. He reached down to pick up the shotgun Al had fumbled on his way down to the deck as Chief entered the room.

  “Ain’t this a sight,” said Chief as he watched the falling bills. “We have a winner.”

  “Is Evan okay?” asked Grey, aiming the pistol at Al’s stunned face.

  “Yep,” said Chief. “Went off like clockwork. The clerks are disabled and laying on the floor. Evan did good, Boss.”

  Before Al hit the floor, he pressed a pedal located a few inches from his foot. The alarm system didn’t notify local authorities to a robbery. It was wired to send alerts to several cell phones belonging to his crew. If Carlos had failed to reprogram the system the night before, Grey’s phone wouldn’t be beeping.

  “Just got your message,” said Grey, leaning over Al with his phone. “Too bad I’m the only one. No help coming for you, fat man.”

  “You’re fucking dead, Ronnie!” yelled Al, holding his bleeding face. “You’re all fucking dead!”

  Grey stepped on Al’s throat and drove a punch into his stomach. “Lying on your back like a chubby turtle with a broken face, and you’re still managing to piss me off.”

  “You have no idea who you’re fucking with,” coughed Al. “Even if you kill me, you’re still dead.”

  “Where’s the fun in that,” said Grey. “I’m not going to kill you right away. Shooting your goons and tapping your face is just the beginning.”

  Al’s eyes followed the moving gun and watched as Grey aimed. He squeezed the trigger, sending a bullet into his foot. He stood to give Al room to scream and writhe in pain. The large man rolled over out of the flatted chair and tried to grab his foot, something he’d been unable to do since he was a teenager.

  “Christ,” said Chief. “That fat tub of shit can’t even reach his feet. How do you think he cleans them?”

  “Don’t really want to visualize that, Chief.”

  “Hey,” yelled Grey, trying to get Al’s attention. “Stop fucking wiggling and crying like a baby. You through pissing me off? If not, I’ve got plenty of bullets and nothing but time. We closed the shop early for you today.”

  Grey reached down and pressed the barrel into the side of Al’s knee. “Now, this one is really gonna hurt.”

  “Stop!” cried Little Al. “Stop shooting me! Please!”

  “That’s up to you,” said Grey. “You ready to be nice?”

  “Yes,” exhaled Al.

  “Good,” said Chief, coming around the other side of the desk. “We’re gonna have a little chat. If you do well, you’ll be limping into an ER shortly, telling a pretty nurse how you shot yourself in the foot and then fell on your face. If not, they’ll be zipping you up with your two dead buddies. Which way do you wanna go?”

  “What do you want?” asked Al.

  “The money on the floor is what Ronnie owes you, plus interest,” said Grey. “Any business you have with him is over. I hear that you gave him a dollar to gamble or harassed his family, and I’ll end you, fat man. Understand? Forget you ever knew him.”

  “I understand,” said Al. “What I don’t understand is why you’re killing my guys and kicking my ass. All he had to do was pay.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about Ronnie,” said Chief. “I do give a fuck about your boy who killed a six-year-old kid and is trying to kill his mother. That’s why I’m here. And if you think this crazy bastard is dishing out some pain, wait until I get started.”

  “Fuck me,” said Al. “I knew this was coming. As soon as I heard what he did to that woman and her kid, I knew this was coming.”

  “It’s here,” said Grey. “Who is he and where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” said Al.

  “Short memory,” said Grey, pulling back the hammer on the pistol. “Explaining two bullet holes in you is gonna be a little harder.”

  “I don’t know his real name or where he is,” repeated Al. “That’s not how it works.”
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  “Explain how it does work,” said Chief.

  “Go ahead and kill me now,” said Al. “I’m fucking dead anyway.”

  “What are you afraid of, Al?” asked Grey.

  “I’m afraid of that crazy motherfucker, but my boss is the one who’s gonna skin me alive. Do you know Ermano Valor Santiago?”

  “Of course I do,” said Chief. “That’s your boss? Yeah, tubby, you are fucked.”

  “They call the guy you want the Reaper,” said Al. “None of us knows his real name. The only one who does is Santiago. They go all the way back to when they were smuggling shit in and out of Cuba. The Reaper is a fucking ghost.”

  “Santiago was behind all this?” asked Grey.

  “No,” said Al, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Santiago’s closest underboss is my cousin. He reached out to the Reaper without Santiago’s knowledge. He was going to get half of my cut. He’s a dead man, too. I swear we told him just to scare them.”

  “Yeah,” said Chief. “We’ve been hearing that a lot.”

  “You guys are fucked, too,” said Al. “Santiago would never give him up. They have too much history.”

  “We’ll see about that,” said Grey. “A little pain goes a long way.”

  The men left little Al’s pawn shop after giving him a few instructions. They knew he wouldn’t go to the police or Santiago and that he would quietly clean up the mess they had left behind. Killing Little Al wasn’t necessary and would only have brought unwanted attention from the cops and Sheriff Doyle.

  “That was fucking intense,” said Evan, driving the car Carlos left at the curb. “You are truly a bad ass, Grey.”

  “I just killed two men who didn’t have a chance, Evan. And we’re no closer to finding the unsub than we were this morning. There’s nothing bad ass about that. Give it a rest.”

  “Sorry, Grey,” said Evan.

  “They teach you that foot thing at the Bureau?” asked Chief, bailing out Evan.

  “I’ve always wanted to do that,” said Grey. “It seemed more effective than threatening him with prison.”