Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I knew exactly what was about to happen next. Kaila’s life was knotted into anything that resembled natural disasters and the news on the radio was certainly going to spoil our day together. A barrage of phone calls instantly followed.
‘Honey, I have to report to the office.’ Kaila turned to me dolefully. I knew for sure she sincerely looked forward to spending the day with Marielli and I.
‘Mom,’ Marielli didn’t hesitate, ‘Can I please come?’ Kaila’s expression was one of disappointment. She hadn’t spent quality time with Marielli lately but was also aware of how hectic things could get around the office. She had a choice to make all the same.
‘Of course you can, sweetie.’ Kaila no longer wanted to disappoint her daughter. The day had been set aside for the family but she’d never seen a change of plan coming. I dropped myself off at Koconut Breeze where a seemingly gleeful patronage of tourist gathered. Kaila and Marielli stole a quick peek at the restaurant before driving off. Straightaway, I began assisting with chores around the restaurant. Abdullah also helped to speed up the operation. He was such an accommodating guy.
I remember meeting Abdullah a few months after Kaila and I leased the restaurant from Mr. Lance Cruisner, an American businessman who owned Water World – a sea sporting facility, a chain of restaurants in the Jolly Harbour area and many other businesses. It was the first time I’d ever seen Abdullah in the area. He had an entourage of tourist with him that had swarmed the bar. I remember making a killing that day. Abdullah had spent many years abroad but since his return, he’d begun a new life as a taxi driver. His outgoing personality worked just fine for him. He had revealed to me that most of his business came at nights but he was rather free during the day when things were almost always slow. He had offered to extend help whenever he could during the day but instead, I gave him a part-time day job with an agreement to leave at intervals whenever he had clients to transport. Abdullah’s friendly face matched an athletic body that seemed to have been perfectly carved by many years at the gym. His candid personality was also in line with his well-built physique – the type of guy women would die for.
‘How is it going Boss?’ Shakira, my most senior staff glided across the restaurant floor.
She held a tray of drinks in one hand and another tray containing two meals in the other.
Her eyes never met mine. Instead, she shot Abdullah a teasing glance before serving the guests.
‘All good…’ I responded pretending not to be aware of the flirtatious game they played with each other. It had been a while since I sensed their flirtation but never saw it as a threat; in fact, it was rather healthy for business.
Shakira, a drop-dead gorgeous blonde was recommended to me by Mr. Lance Cruisner. She had gone to one of his other restaurants to seek employment. He wasn’t hiring at the moment so he sent her straight across to Koconut Breeze. The first thing that scored her some good points was her beauty. She was also from up north and naturally understood the needs of tourists. Her first week at the restaurant was quite impressive. Male as well as female tourists swarmed Koconut Breeze to dine and have a drink while simultaneously pressing their luck to get her in their beds. Shakira was phenomenal at flirting and she had a knack for dating local Caribbean men as if they had something far more appealing to offer than other men. During her time off work, she changed local date mates as if they were going out of existence.
Abdullah’s connected. It faint attempt to seduce her hadn’t quite was an overgrown local fisherman named
Baptist that drove her home at nights. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind he was getting the better part of her. Ever since Baptist started frequenting her, some of the different men with whom I’d seen her before disappeared.
It wasn’t much longer after I arrived at the restaurant that Abdullah left. It was Sunday afternoon which meant business for him at Shirley heights.
Shirley Heights, located within the national parks of Antigua happened to be one of Antigua’s foremost tourist attractions. Every Sunday, crowds of visitors and locals alike converged from 4pm to reserve their spot to watch the most wonderful view of the sunset on the island while the mellow rhythms of steelpan music pervaded the atmosphere. From 7pm, Calypso, Reggae and Soca music formed part of a pulsating party that brought life to the mountain until 10pm. The restaurant slowed considerably after Abdullah left. He once revealed that Sunday was the day he made the most money by means of transporting tourist to and from the heights. It was as if Shirley Heights had an hypnotic effect on every tourist on the island around that time on a Sunday afternoon. I remembered my two sweethearts, Kaila and Marielli and immediately went to the phone. An attractive German tourist accompanied by an eight year old boy walked in and inquired about getting to the heights at the same time I picked up the phone.
Five ……………
The atmosphere at Diamond-Ice was ecstatic and full of life. A sexy Latin stripper gracefully caressed a dance pole. Her acrobatic maneuvers on the pole created a caricature parallel to the Rod of Asclepius that is often mistaken for a medical symbol called Caduceus. Doctors, lawyers, accountants, police officers, drug dealers; men of all walks of life encircled her in an attempt to be the next in line to receive her seductive services.
Smallmoney had long rid himself of the undomesticated whore who almost caused him to lose his cool earlier. He maintained the same position in the bar that offered him a vantage point. Half an hour was upon him and it was time to hit the road. Smallmoney handed the bartender a stash of dollars then tapped Little Kevin on the shoulder to make him aware of their exit.
At the same moment Smallmoney began moving forward, a towering figure appeared, creating an oversized shadow in the building’s entrance. He began approaching slowly.
****
Baptist pulled into a vacant spot opposite the Diamond-Ice building. Instead of waiting downstairs, he wanted to breathe in a little bit of the action upstairs. Strip clubs were his life. He never had enough them. On entering, he spotted a seminude dancer entertaining a vibrant crowd of onlookers. He dreaded the idea of being at Diamond-Ice strictly for business. His place there should have been amongst the gathering closest to the tantalizing Latin dancer who was positioned upside down on the dance pole. Her head was inches away from the platform with her legs spread wide open.
Onlookers were absolutely hypnotized by the fullness of her womanflesh. Her skimpish bikini did little to veil her bulky mass of flesh. Baptist mind raced back to his boat where he left Shakira denuded and partially unsatisfied. She could never get enough of him.
Smallmoney was already within an approaching distance. He was advancing halfway across the floor. Little Kevin, the notorious troublemaker, trailed him.
‘Glad you came.’ Smallmoney leveled his voice with the loud music.
He extended his right hand but Baptist refused defiantly. There wasn’t peace between them yet. As far as Baptist was concerned, there could be countless handshakes but after business was accomplished. There was no room for pleasantries. He made that mistake once and it cost him thousands of dollars. If Smallmoney was truly in a state of desperation, Baptist sole intention was to recover what was owed him. He would then double the price for the new job and demand full pay upfront. Should there be any disagreement with his request, he would cancel the deal.
‘Money talks, bullshit walks!’ Baptist response was humorless. Smallmoney expected no better response. He was in default and had found himself at the mercy of the man he thought he’d outsmarted. He motioned Baptist towards the entrance he walked through a few moments earlier. It also served as the building’s exit.
****
The Shadow crouched in the darkened parking lot across Diamond-Ice. His dark apparel blended perfectly with his surroundings. A little more than thirty minutes elapsed since his target entered the nightclub. The Shadow had three options in mind. Trailing the target into the club would make his assignment much more strenuous. He motivated himself
with one of his rules; work smart….not hard. The parking he secured earlier left room for either a messy kill or a narrow escape for the target. Option three offered him the best chance to eliminate the subject.
He reached for the long metallic device he carried in his jacket. He eased it between the window and the door of the target’s Land Cruiser. The Shadow was an expert at carjacking. He had done it many times before. He yanked the device upwards. The vehicle let off a distractive clicking sound. On impulse, he peeked around to see if anyone had noticed him. All the doors automatically opened up. He was thankful an alarm wasn’t activated on the Land Cruiser. It would have totally changed his plans. He opened the vehicle’s back door, eased himself on the back seat behind the passenger’s side then reactivated the lock from inside. He pulled out the Glock from his jacket pocket and placed it comfortably beside him. Good thing come to those who wait, he almost laughed out loud as he silently praised himself for being such a genius at choosing option three.
As he patiently awaited the return of his subject, his mind travelled back to the military where he’d served as a younger man. He’d endured harsh orders and insults from different commanders. He remembered the one vacation away from the military that had changed his life for good. He was introduced to a wealthy German drug lord named Erik Barfknecht who had made him an offer he dared not refuse. The offer had compelled him to forfeit his service in the military. Shortly after, he signed a contract with Erik but it was like signing a deal with the devil himself. The Shadow had only met the man twice and discovered the hard way that his fate from there onwards would be to follow orders and execute them flawlessly. The exact thing he ran away from came back to haunt him tenfold. The assignments that were handed down to him made life in the military look like a walk in the park. From that point onwards, his entire life entailed following orders of the worst kinds and now years later, here he was in a similar episode following instructions from another wealthy man.
The target came into full view in the nightclub’s doorway. The Shadow wrapped his hand slowly around the Glock. He used his free hand to unscrew a tiny plastic container that produced a white powdery substance. He poured the substance on the forearm that held the Glock. He sniffed in deeply. Time for action, he produced a vicious snarl. His face transformed into monster.
The target’s well-built companion escorted him. A third person was in their accompaniment. He was an even larger figure than the target’s companion. The Shadow determination doubled. If it meant killing the trio, his sole intention was to get the job done and get it done meticulously. He had assassinated far more than just three men in the past and tonight would be no different. If the three men were riding together, he would have to get rid of the one entering the back seat first. It would most likely be the third who was an oversized man. He seemed strong enough to restrain The Shadow. The target’s companion would predictably throw himself into the passenger’s seat unaware of the danger that lurked behind him. The Shadow would then put a hole in the back of his head. He would then direct the target to a destination where he could torture the information out of him. The target held information that The Shadow’s boss needed desperately. The Shadow intended to force it out of him before finishing him off. The trio was on the move and progressing quickly. The overgrown man walked side by side with the target. His gesticulation hinted some form of disagreement with the target. His face was stern. He was clearly the aggressor in their conversation. The target broke contact with him and turned to say something to his companion. He then handed him a small shiny object. The target continued walking but in the direction of the large man, away from the parking lot where his vehicle was parked. It was his companion that was headed all alone towards the Land Cruiser.
Six ……………
Baptist, Smallmoney and Little Kevin took measured steps down the night club’s stairway. The music in the background faded with every declining step. Two strip teasers were headed into the club. Their eyes were glued to the men as if to urge them back up the stairs.
Baptist paid no attention to the dancers. He was focused on more important matters. Smallmoney seemed worried. Little Kevin gawked at the coquettish dancers who were way up on the staircase and already disappearing into the nightclub. Their eyes never left his.
‘What’s going down?’ Baptist walked side by side with Smallmoney. There was no one else on the stairway but the three men. The music was reduced to a distant bass.
‘I need to leave Antigua tonight.’ Smallmoney leveled his glances with Baptist’s. His eyes reflected deep despair that made Baptist pity him.
‘What kinda shit are you in?’
‘Deep Shit…man!’
‘And your intended destination?’
‘I’m thinking St. Maarten.’
‘That’s gonna cost you a lot!’ Baptist began piecing his
plans together. Smallmoney was going to pay big-time for his past lapses. ‘Money isn’t a problem.’ Smallmoney’s pace down the stairs increased.
They were now approaching the building’s exit.
A bunch of medical students who attended the American University of Antigua scurried passed them. They were in a hurry to get piece of the action from the strippers. Baptist and small money stepped into the bare night. The breeze outside was cool and reassuring.
‘Here is how this is gonna go down!’ Baptist didn’t wait to
continue the dialogue, ‘You pay me the fifteen Grand you owe me upfront. Given the urgency of the situation, the trip to St. Maarten will cost you thirty thousand. You will also pay this sum upfront; cashmoney! Do you have a problem with that?’ an inquisitive passerby glared up at Baptist on hearing the word CASHMONEY.
‘Let’s talk in my vehicle.’ Smallmoney was fully aware of Baptist distrust for him.
‘No…no…no…let’s use mine!’ Baptist aggression was
unhidden. He was completely unaware that the charge he
demanded was a mere pebble in the ocean compared to the
two million Smallmoney had packed away neatly in a
crumple bag. The cash was hidden in the trunk of his Land
cruiser and only Little Kevin; his closest friend knew it was
there.
The money was the least of Smallmoney’s problems. He
worried about his life. He was given a simple assignment to
steal a document containing information of paramount
importance to the man he worked for. He had no idea what
was in the stolen envelope and didn’t care to know either. In
his line of work, it was never his business to open packages.
His mission was to steal, deliver and get paid. Stealing two
million dollars was never part of the plan but after he had
secured the envelope, Little Kevin discovered a vault
containing two million dollars that was hidden away in a
closet of the Villa they burglarized.
Not in a million years they were going to leave two million
dollars behind. Out of sheer curiosity, Smallmoney had also
opened the envelope. The information contained inside had
forced him to ditch the mission.
The man he stole from was a wealthy tycoon who hired
the best assassin to hunt him. Escaping the island alone
wasn’t enough to quell his worries. He still had to face the
man who hired him; another powerful and heartless man
with far-reaching connections. Smallmoney wished he had
followed the rules. They were simple: Break in; steal; deliver;
and get paid fifty Grand. It wasn’t the first time he’d worked
for the man and he’d always been paid handsomely so long the mission was accomplished. His greed now landed him between a rock and a hard place. He was now at the mercy of another man he’d cheated in the recent past. Smallmoney wasn’t in any position to reject Baptist demands. He desperately needed to escape
the little island he so loved. ‘Ok…just cool big man. Let’s use your car.’ Smallmoney turned and handed Little Kevin his keys.
He asked him to trail Baptist wherever he was headed. It was crystal clear that Baptist trusted neither him nor his friend. He couldn’t blame the man either.
‘Do you have my money with you?’ Baptist was already seated in the fancy Sedan Buick he drove. Smallmoney threw himself into the passenger’s seat. His expression of desolation consumed him even further.
‘Your money is in the trunk of my vehicle. All of it!!!’ ‘Ok, now we have a deal!’ Baptist extended his right hand to Smallmoney. It was the first time during the night his stony face diminished into a smile.
‘We’re leaving right away!’ Baptist was in action mode. Money talks…bullshit walks!!! He planned to leave his car with Shakira – that Blonde Bitch! She really thought she had him under control and wrapped around her little finger. He had a tormenting premonition that she was fucking other guys. She had looked him straight in the eyes and sworn that since she met him, she had never spread her legs open for another man and would never. After all, their relationship was more of an arrangement than anything else but they spent so much time together that he was starting to feel something between love and jealousy for her. She had become the closest thing he had to a friend and it left him with little choice but to entrust her with some of his business. After all, there was no one else he could trust. Baptist was about to start the car when a loud bang rang out from the parking across the street. The shot came from the location where the Land Cruiser was parked. Partygoers scampered for cover. A fresh hole with spider-web-like cracks formed in the windscreen of the Land Cruiser. A muscular figure dressed all in black was quickly on the move. He was headed in their direction. He held a gun and was already taking aim at them. Smallmoney sprung into action. His eyes reflected horror.
Caribbean Rage Page 2