by Stone, M. T.
“Well, Victor is as close to the real deal as anyone,” I gasp, amazed that he doesn’t realize that he’s the American version. “He runs the whole eastern seaboard. You know that. I’ve heard that the two of you supply over forty percent of the coke for the entire U.S.” I stare at him, looking for confirmation.
“Yeah.” He waves his hand in the air. “But it’s not nearly as interesting as in the movies. All I do is buy off politicians who promise to keep the path smooth and hire a small army of mercenaries to keep any intruders off the property. Other than that, I spend most of my time trying to figure out what to buy with all of the money we make. Luckily, it’s easier now that Victor has that food service business. I’ve grown to be one of the biggest real estate owners in the city of New York.”
“Yeah, that’s what Victoria was telling me,” I concur. “She said she spends most of her time buying distribution centers and investment properties for you guys.”
“Yes. It’s a good setup. That’s why I can’t believe he’s going to throw it all away by bringing that riffraff into the picture.” He shakes his head again while looking out at the vast fields of cash crop. “It’s just a fucking shame.”
“That’s why she wants to get back and talk with him as soon as possible,” I tell him, looking at the time. “Is there anything you need to discuss with us before we take off?” I assume that he is going to share the neurotoxins with us and give us an idea of the best way to use them. It’s not the kind of thing that you want to go into flying blind.
“We’ll stop by my lab and I’ll give you the best one. It mimics TTX, so it immediately affects the respiratory system, the lips, and tongue, as well as upper arm strength. It really is the ultimate negotiation tool,” he says with the steely look of a man who knows a thing or two about bare-knuckled negotiation tactics.
At the lab, he goes into a cabinet and pulls out two tiny vials, one containing a finely ground white crystalline powder and the other one a pink version. “Call Vicki and tell her to come down here, and I’ll go over how I would play it. No one has ever been in here except me and the man who designed these, so I know there aren’t any bugs in here,” he adds, pulling up a seat at the long, white lab table.
“Are you familiar with TTX?” he asks me while we’re waiting for her.
“No, I’ve never heard of it,” I admit. “Poisoning someone has never been my thing.”
“The toxin comes from the puffer fish and a few other exotic sea creatures. Some Japanese businessmen I know consider puffer fish to be a delicacy. They like to get just enough of the toxin to make their lips tingle.” He turns his head and watches Vicki as she walks toward us. “God, she looks like her mother.”
“I noticed that in the pictures in your hallway.”
“She’s got a much stronger personality though.” He shrugs his eyebrows. “Which is a good thing in this day and age. Girls need to be tough.”
“Who needs to be tough?” Victoria furrows her brow as she comes through the door.
“He was just saying that in today’s world, girls need to be tough,” I explain.
“Then I should be all set,” she replies with a grin. “What are these?” She picks up the two vials from the lab table.
“The white one is a neurotoxin that acts like TTX, so it leads to muscle weakness and will make the victim slur,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone. “The pink vial is the antidote.” He stands up and motions for Victoria to take his seat. “The white powder can be injected, inhaled, swallowed, or it can even penetrate a small skin abrasion, so it’s incredibly versatile. And believe me, your victim will believe that they are in immediate peril. Especially if they know anything about TTX. I would try to have dinner with your father and his son. That will give you multiple opportunities to add it to food or drink. You can also add it to a cigar, but be careful that you don’t inhale any of the smoke. Also, be careful not to get this on your skin, especially if you have cuts.”
“What are those?” she asks, pointing to a couple of space age-looking guns hanging on the wall.
“Those are my tranquilizer guns. I use those for taking care of the Jaguarondi that come around here occasionally.” He looks at both of us as if we should know what that means. “They’re smaller versions of a cougar or mountain cat that scare the shit out of the workers. Val doesn’t want me shooting them, so I tranquilize them and a guy takes them over to the game reserve.”
“Cool, what kind of tranquilizer do you use?” Victoria asks, seeming intrigued by the idea.
“I use a combination of ketamine and xylazine,” he tells her. “Knocks them out pretty quickly and makes it easy to transport them. But it wears off pretty quickly too, so we have to get them moved within twenty minutes.”
“That’s interesting.” She pulls out her phone and takes a picture of the gun before sticking it back into her pocket. “How close do you have to get to the cats?”
“Oh, they say you can shoot from thirty meters, but I try to get within twenty because I’m not that great of a shot anymore. It’s got a laser on it though, so you just point and shoot.” Without so much as a pause, Antonio goes back to talking about how he would introduce the neurotoxins to Victor and Eduardo, but I can tell that Victoria is on an alternate line of thought. If she could shoot her father from thirty meters, that would be preferential. The problem, though, is that he is one of the most well-protected men in the world, so the odds of her being able to get any type of gun within thirty meters of him is pure fantasy.
Chapter 17
Victoria
After having a nice lunch with Grandma, it’s time for us to head back to the airport. My heart aches as I watch her struggle to do even the simplest tasks. I would love to stay a few days, but I have so many thoughts running through my mind that I have to go back to Manhattan and get things settled. After that, we can come back and spend as much time as we want.
“I’ll be back as soon as everything is worked out with Dad,” I assure her before getting into the SUV for the ride back to the airport.
“I’ll be right here waiting for you,” she says with a soft smile.
I hug her once again while Devon loads our luggage. I can’t help thinking about the five years that have passed since the last time I saw her. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner. I just . . .”
“It’s okay, dear.” She smiles and gives me another hug. “It’s a two-way street. We could’ve come up and visited you too. It’s just . . . you know how your dad and he get along.” She nods toward Grandpa.
“I know, but now that I’m grown up, there are no more excuses.” I give her one last hug, thinking that it could easily be the last.
“Thanks for the hospitality,” Devon tells her after loading our things. He joins us, giving her a one-armed hug.
“You are both welcome anytime,” she tells him with a twinkle in her eye. I could tell right away that she liked him. What’s not to like? Strong, good looking, nice teeth. I chuckle to myself before adding a few more characteristics that girls like me appreciate.
“We have a minor change of plans,” Grandpa announces after the SUV starts to move down the driveway. “I want you to check in at the airport and stow your luggage but get off the plane before it takes off. I’ll have a shuttle waiting to take you to another plane.”
“What?” I ask, completely caught off-guard by his comments.
“The fact that your father made a comment to me about our agreement being between the Plantation and The Syndicate has been bothering me.” An intense scowl settles on his face. “Then he apologized to you, and I just can’t shake this feeling in my gut. It doesn’t feel right, so I just can’t let you get on that plane.”
“So how are we getting back?” Devon asks, seeming just as bewildered as me.
“We’ve got a cargo plane loaded with fresh produce that’s headed for Newark,” he says with a wink. “From there, you can catch a short chopper ride to LaGuardia. It’s a ten-minute trip.”
�
�So we will get there with no luggage?” I ask, immediately thinking about makeup and other necessities.
“I have a bag right here,” Grandpa says, handing me a small travel bag. “You take whatever you need out of your bags. But I want you to leave your cellphones behind when you leave the plane. I’ll give you these two to use once you’ve landed.” He pulls two phones out of the console and hands one to each of us. “The phone number is on the back.”
I turn the phone over, surprised to find a 212 area code. “Something tells me you have had these for a while. It’s hard to get that area code anymore.”
“Honey, I can get you anything.” He pats me on the knee. “So whatever you need, just ask.”
I turn to look out the window as we pass by a sniper station. I can see the guys sitting in there with their automatic weapons focused on us. It’s a strange feeling to know that with a single pull of a trigger, we could all be blown off the planet. I’ve never really thought about it before, but this is so different from anything in the states. We always had security guards and bulletproof vehicles, but everything seems much more militarized down here. “How many guys work for you?”
“Who knows?” he replies, shrugging his shoulders. “A couple of hundred work the fields and in processing on any given day, and I’ve got about fifty out here for security. I figure I’ve got over a thousand on the payroll, one way or another. Including the USDA agents who will be inspecting our cargo after you land.” He flashes me a self-assured grin.
“What are you doing?” I ask Devon, noticing that he is hastily typing on his phone.
“If I’m going to ditch this thing, I’ve got quite a bit of stuff I need to get off here,” he says with wide eyes. “I’ve got everything in here.”
“Here, I’ll make sure your iCloud backup is on. Then when you enter your Apple ID in your new phone, you’ll still have everything.” I reach out my hand, but he seems hesitant to trust me.
“Really? My pictures and everything?” He gives me a suspicious look.
“I’ll make sure everything is turned on and it will all be there when you get your new one.” I look back at Grandpa and roll my eyes.
“I keep all of my important contacts and passwords in my wallet,” he says with a shrug. “I know I’m not supposed to, but hell, I can’t remember all of that shit.”
“When I get back, I’ll show you how to set up your phone to remember everything for you,” I tell him as Devon finally hands over his phone. “I just have to go into Devon’s pictures to see if he’s got any old girlfriends in here.” I give him a wink.
“You’re a little too calm for someone who needs to be sent home on a cargo plane because her grandfather fears for her life.” He glares at me over the top of his sunglasses. “And who is carrying two vials of neurotoxin in her purse that she intends to use on her father.”
“I was just trying to lighten the moment a little.” I shoot him a look and click to check his iCloud settings. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who hates fun. By the way, I should probably put those vials in the bag we are going to take on the cargo plane. I don’t want to get caught by the TSA with something like that.”
“All you have to do is tell them that you’re my granddaughter,” Grandpa says nonchalantly. “Trust me, they know me.”
“You’ve really got this place pegged, haven’t you?” Devon asks, probably feeling a little jealous about now, but grandpa has been at this for a long time. “I’m just glad I’m getting a front-row seat for lessons. Between you and Victor, I should know all the tricks pretty soon.”
Grandpa doesn’t reply but he’s got that subtle grin on his face. He’s proud of the fact that he’s the head of the most powerful drug cartel in South America. The fact that he does it with such class is what surprises me most, not that anyone who crosses him shouldn’t feel threatened. He and dad are a lot alike, probably too much alike, in fact. In the past, most of the conflicts that I’ve had with my father have been because both of us are too stubborn to admit when we are wrong. I’m sure it’s the same between these two. Hopefully, once I’m in charge, they can iron out their differences.
Devon
After going through airport security and boarding our scheduled flight, we stow our bags and settle into our seats. Within a minute, Victoria’s phone rings just as planned. “Oh my God, are you serious?” she cries loudly enough to startle two flight attendants. She subtly drops her phone into the seat compartment in front of her and makes her way into the aisle. “My grandmother just had a heart attack!” she says, displaying all the appropriate emotional responses. I quickly follow her down the flight of stairs and off the plane. Neither of us says a word as a shuttle meets us and quickly whisks us from the scene before anyone has a chance to ask any questions. I glance at Victoria, still feeling that Antonio is overreacting to his gut feeling. But, I guess it makes more sense to fly into Newark anyway, since we have to go see Victor in Manhattan.
As we pull up to the 747 cargo plane, we see Antonio coming down the flight of stairs. “You’re all set,” he informs us as we come to a stop. “Your bag is sitting by the cockpit door and the co-pilot will show you to your quarters. As you can see, there are no windows in the back of the plane so you two can pick up where you left off last night.” He lowers his head and looks directly at me over the top of his darkened glasses.
“Thank you for everything, sir.” I reach out to shake his hand. “I’ll take diligent care of your granddaughter,” I add, completely ignoring his comment.
“I’ll take diligent care of him too,” Victoria says, giving him a warm hug. “Now, you take care of Grandma until I can get back.”
“I will.” He pulls back. “I know you’ll do well and we’ll see each other soon.”
“Yeah. Wish me luck with Dad.”
“If you play your cards right, there will be no luck involved,” he says, looking into her eyes and squeezing her hands between his. “Just follow the instructions I gave you and don’t give him the antidote until everything is signed.”
“I will. Bye, Grandpa.” She turns to join me, walking up the stairs to our very own private jet. Just the two of us and thirty-two million dollars’ worth of pure coke interspersed amongst ninety tons of fresh produce. The drug volume that these guys move directly through customs is staggering. There are some serious dollars changing hands.
“Welcome aboard,” the young Colombian co-pilot says, guiding us down a narrow corridor between the stacked crates of produce. It definitely smells of mangos, bananas, and other tropical fruits.
“Damn, it’s cold in here,” Victoria exclaims as we settle in and the temperature inside the cargo hold seems to drop by an additional ten degrees. Even though we have a small cabin that is separated from the actual cargo hold, we can feel the chill coming right through the thin pressed wood door.
“This must be why he told us about the extra blankets,” I reply, going into the storage space above us to grab a couple of them. “Would you like a glass of wine, ma’am?” I ask, draping the blanket over my arm.
“Yeah, twenty thousand kilos of pure cocaine onboard and the guys still felt the need to put in a fully stocked bar back here. There’s no room for a microwave or sink, but they managed to make the beer and wine fridge fit.” She grabs a blanket and reclines back in the chair. “No, I don’t need any wine. I think maybe we should just take Grandpa’s advice and pick up where we left off last night.”
I laugh and slip into the seat next to her. “That was funny. At least we both just ignored it.”
“I think we’re probably old enough to do whatever the hell we want,” she says, grabbing the front of my shirt and pulling it up to reveal my stomach. “How did you such great abs? I haven’t seen you do a single sit-up or crunch since the day we met.”
“That’s because you’ve been keeping me pretty busy,” I reply, pulling my shirt over my head and sliding from the seat onto the floor. “A hundred crunches coming your way, baby.”
On crunch fifty-three, she interrupts me. “I would love to watch all one hundred of them, but I couldn’t wait to feel you between my legs,” she says, straddling my mid-section. “If only I had worn one of my dresses today,” she adds, grinding her bottom against my now stiffening cock.
“That’s why you like to wear dresses?” I tease, reaching up to cup her gorgeous breasts that hang beautifully inside her tank top. “God, I love your body. I’ve never known a woman who has such beautiful curves. I don’t know how you maintain them though. I haven’t seen you do a single workout since I met you.”
“Oh, I’ve done a few workouts, but they’ve mostly been on my back.” She reaches down and unbuttons my shorts, pulling them down to my knees. “That’s why I need to be on top this time.”
“Okay, I’ll keep working my abs from down here,” I joke as she stands up momentarily to shed her clothes before settling back into the perfect position. “Having those beauties hanging just out of reach will be all the incentive I need.” I do an extended crunch, drawing one of her nipples between my lips.
“It seems to be warming up in here.” She giggles as she reaches back and positions my cock between her silken lips.
“Yeah, it’s hot.” I feel the tip of my cock slip inside her. “We have about eight hours to kill, so feel free to take your time.”
“We’ll just have to do it a few times,” she counters with a smirk. “I’ve got lots of pent-up emotions to work through.” She lowers herself all the way onto me as I continue to focus on her breasts. “Quiero follarte,” she adds as she begins to thrust herself against me, pushing down on my chest.
I relent, completely content to lie back and watch her do the work. Her long hair cascades off her shoulders, partially obscuring those beautiful breasts. Closing her eyes, she grimaces as if she’s already in the midst of feeling the tension build. I love how physical she is and how she likes to take turns being the aggressor. Not only is she beautiful, but there is something especially arousing about a sexually charged woman who’s not afraid to take what she wants. As she continues to gyrate with pleasure, I feel the tension building within me as well. I consciously relax my hips and try to let go of the tension, wanting to extend the pleasure for as long as possible.