Amber turned to find a stranger in an FBI vest holding the bat with one hand and his gun in the other. He and Anita had slipped in during the commotion. On the verge of a breakdown Amber let go of the bat and rushed out of the room.
“Just give her a minute,” Anita suggested when I turned to follow.
“There are two ways we can play this,” Nick said easily to the man, reversing his grip on the bat by tossing it lazily in the air. “You and I can make a deal. Or we can haul the girls off to a hospital, make a deal with some of them and leave you shackled to a water pipe for your boss to find. What’s your pleasure?”
“You cannot do this!” the man protested.
“Oh, yeah, we can,” Anita Guerrero confirmed. “We can definitely do that.”
Chapter 25
It took me a few minutes to find Amber and I had to cheat and get Deek to use the drone to scan the windows until he found her in an upstairs office. I went off comm for this conversation.
“You okay?” I said from the hall, she was cloaked in the shadows, silhouetted by the window.
“He’s going to go free, isn’t he?” she asked still sniffling. “That guy down there.”
“If he testifies,” I said truthfully, “he’ll end up living the rest of his life in some place like North Platte, Nebraska.”
“He deserves to die,” she said with the icy finality of someone more than willing to squeeze the trigger to make it a reality.
“Don’t say that until you’ve been to North Platte.”
“It’s not funny.”
“We’re not executioners,” I pointed out, “and we’re not crusaders. If you want to do that, you’ll have to do it somewhere else. The world is full of bad people doing bad things to other people. We can’t fix it all and that’s not why we’re here or what we’re about.”
She thought about that one for a long ten count. “Does it ever get any easier?”
“It gets more automatic,” was the best I could offer. The truth was it was never easy. “It’s not too late to go back to the boat,” I reminded her.
I could make out her shaking her head. “No,” she said with more resolve and sniffling. “I’ll be alright.”
“You did good tonight,” I said with conviction. “We need to pull out before the Feds get here. Two minutes. I’ll see you downstairs.”
I went back on comm and ordered the evac. By the end of the night it would take 15 ambulances to get all the girls to medical care.
We went back to the warehouse and watched it all unfold on the evening news. There was a helicopter shot of the strip club and a local Miami anchor with a hair helmet reported that the club was attacked by several ax-wielding assailants that local police believe, based on evidence found at the scene, might have belonged to a rival Russian gang.
“Several?” Bobby complained. “It was me and Dugger!”
Amber came back from the bathroom more composed. The rest of the team was having a beer and laughing at the news.
“You should go join them,” I suggested.
“I don’t feel much like celebrating,” she moped.
“Look, ops is like dancing,” I began. “You have to trust your partners to make the right moves at the right time. Tonight you proved to everyone that you’re not just the boss’ girlfriend; you proved you can dance. Having a beer afterwards is part of the ritual.”
She sighed. “Okay, I’ll go change.”
“Nah, not this time,” I said. “Leave it on.”
“Now leave it on?” she asked, obviously puzzled.
“Trust me.”
“Sometimes I think I’ll never get this personal relationship shit.”
“Sure you will,” I assured her.
The conflict wore on another moment, then her inner hooker kicked in and she shrugged and headed over to join the rest of the team. “What’s a girl gotta do to get a beer around here?” she asked.
“Dance!” Mat suggested sliding a low table her way.
“Bad luck there, Mat,” she joked. “If I’m drunk enough to dance, I’m too drunk to stay on the table.”
“I’d settle for just singing on key,” Bobby joked, handing her a beer and scooting over to make room for her on the couch. The rest of the team roared with laughter.
Amber sat down and fell into an easy camaraderie with the rest of the team. She was one of them now, accepted. This moment would forge bonds that would last a lifetime.
“I was worried about her this afternoon,” Q said, handing me a beer, “but she came through.”
“How’d you like working with Teddy’s people?”
“They’re solid,” he agreed.
“What would you think of a little closer working relationship with Teddy’s organization?” I asked.
“It would depend on the details,” he said, “but, overall, I like the idea.”
“Me, too,” I agreed. “We should start those talks when we’re done here.”
“We’re not done?” Q wondered.
“Still got the hard part to go,” I sighed. “We still have to wrap it up for Rafe.”
“Yeah, we kinda got away from that,” Q observed.
“We just had a rather large obstacle to deal with,” I pointed out, “and we just kicked that obstacle right in the nuts.”
“How much longer?” he asked.
“A couple days we should be able to bring it home,” I guessed. “The next step will be closing off his potential avenue of retreat. By the way, how much did we get?”
“Three hundred eight thousand and change,” Q reported.
“Divide it ten ways,” I began. “Give my share to the company.”
“You don’t want it?”
“Normally I’d spend it on hookers and blow,” I pointed out. “Kinda got that covered now.”
“Right,” Q grinned. He was still young enough to enjoy the feel of fat stacks.
“Yo, Mat!” he called, motioning Mateo to come with him.
They came back a half-hour later with the fat envelopes which were each about the size of football. Q handed Mat his and I took the box with the rest over to the group.
“You all were amazing tonight and here’s your share of tonight’s recovery!” That got cheers all around.
“Dugger,” I began, hefting one of the stacks. “I was worried about you the first day but you really came through.” I tossed him the bundle of cash.
“Anyone want to argue that Amber didn’t earn it tonight?” I tossed her stack to her and passed out all but Anita’s.
“Okay,” I said wrapping it up. “As always the company gets two shares. Anyone who needs a check instead of cash, tell Deek and he’ll send an armored car to pick up the bills and pay you through one of the company accounts. Nicely done everyone!”
There were cheers and beers interrupted when Bobby pointed at the TV. “Hey, there’s that guy!”
He turned up the volume so we could all hear. Nick did make a striking figure on TV. The tag underneath said Nicholas Rowlett - FBI Agent in Charge.
“We had extensive cooperation from the U.S. Marshal’s office,” he gestured to Anita, standing next to him, “Customs and Immigration, Miami Metro and the Dade County Agency Task Force. When Marshal Guerrero got a tip about foreign nationals being held against their will in deplorable conditions, she immediately alerted the local FBI field office along with Customs and Immigration.”
“He’s really spreading it around,” Q pointed out.
“He’s spreadin’ something,” Jesse agreed, getting a laugh from the rest of the group.
“That’s how you play the game,” I said to Q, noting how Nick was flanked by a number of high ranking local law enforcement figures, most of whom hadn’t so much as written a parking ticket in the last 20 years and here they were on TV taking credit for a bust they didn’t even know about. Nick went on.
“When we followed up on Marshal Guerrero’s initial report, we found 23 foreign nationals, all young women, ranging in age from 16 to 23,
being held in deplorable conditions in a makeshift prison.”
One of the reporters in the crowd asked him if it would be fair to call it white slavery.
“It’s too early in the investigation to draw any conclusions,” he said, carefully avoiding saying it wasn’t white slavery because that phrase would propel the story to the top of every newscast in the region. People loved to be horrified and two dozen innocent girls being chained up and used was the kind of titillating horror that would be leaving wet spots all over South Florida.
“What about the strip club?” Bobby asked. “Not a fucking word.”
“They’re treating it as a separate incident,” I pointed out.
It was a brilliant strategy. If Sergei thought the two events were possibly coincidental, he might be a shade less paranoid. The smart strategy would be to disappear into the world somewhere, but Sergei would want to sort out what happened first. Right now who hit the strip club was a mystery. Sergei would be able to get vague descriptions of Bobby and Dugger from patrons that night, but they never saw Q and I. The drugs we gave the staff would mean they wouldn’t remember anything about us.
“It’s the not knowing that will kill him,” I said to Q.
“Sergei?”
“Yup.”
“You don’t think he’ll just skip for the islands?”
“He should,” I agreed. “That would be the smart thing to do.” That was the reasoning behind our A1A. Never be afraid to just walk away.
“But he won’t.”
“He can’t,” I clarified. “We didn’t roll up his whole operation. We left a third of it and the club hit will look Russian.”
“The shell casings,” Q filled in.
“You can’t buy those at the local sporting goods store,” I pointed out. “He’ll be confused.”
“We’re not on any traffic cams,” Q observed. “Jesse’s on the cop’s dash cam and so is V.”
“But V wasn’t here the first time and he hasn’t tied her to us. As far as he knows they’re just surveyors.”
“And Deek wiped his video. Goddamn, he may not actually know it’s us.”
“He’ll figure it out about five minutes after he gets back.”
“How?”
“We’re going to send a more definite message.”
We did some serious damage to the beer that night and a couple hours later Amber wandered over with her stack of cash, two beers and a look I’d seen before. It was the look that told me I’d be getting two hours sleep and waking up with a sore back.
“Evening gentlemen,” she said smoothly. “I came into some money recently and was looking for some manly companionship.”
She moved around us with the smoothness of a tiger. “How about you, big boy?” she asked Q. “A good looking guy like you could make some real money.”
“Sorry, I’m not working tonight,” he played along with a smile.
“That’s too bad,” she said, turning back to me. “Looks like it’s just you and me, handsome,” she said, drifting by close enough to let her dark wig brush against me. “What’ll you do for a hundred bucks?”
“A hundred dollars?” I complained indignantly. “What do you think I am?”
“Oh, I know what you are, sweetheart,” she assured me. “I’m just trying to figure out how much it’s going to cost.”
I found it interesting being on the opposite end of the lines she had heard so often in her life. It drove home how utterly transparent and unimaginative they really were. The people who uttered them always acted like they were the first or they somehow sounded more intelligent coming from them. But when you heard it directed at you it sounded stupid and sad and maybe a little pathetic.
“Well, that’s the best offer I’ve gotten all day,” I said, taking one of the beers and following her, “but it’s going to cost more than a c-note.”
“I’m good for it,” she said hefting the stack of bills and leading the way back to our office.
“See you in the morning,” I said over my shoulder to Q who raised his beer bottle in salute.
Chapter 26
Morning did come too early and my back and thighs both hurt, my arms had claw marks and there were spots of dried blood on the sheets. I couldn’t place the mood Amber was in last night, but she was definitely feeling it. The sex was rough, raw and had an almost frantic edge to it. She drew blood more than once and it wasn’t a hooker going through the motions; it was real, pure, desperate and a little violent. She brought a range of meanings to the act and it was like riding a crazy roller coaster of passion. There may have been a time when I was more physically capable of sex, but there was never a time in my life I could appreciate it as much. From then on when the subject of good sex came up, I’d be thinking of that night.
Getting dressed in the dim something small and hard rolled out of my clothes. I picked up a small roll of hundred dollar bills. Amber’s way of putting the final flourish on the hooker experience. I decided to keep it and pocketed the cash. It felt good.
As usual, Q was already up and wide awake. “Make any money last night?” he asked over his reading glasses.
I poured myself a coffee and showed him the roll of bills.
“Nice!” he smiled. “Am I sensing a career change coming on?”
“Meh,” I complained, “I’d have to invest in a whole new wardrobe.”
“There’s always porn,” he reminded me. “Deek could probably hook up some webcams for you.”
“I’m sure I’d have tens of subscribers for that,” I joked. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
“I’ll totter along,” Q concluded. “So what are we doing today?”
“Tonight,” I corrected. “We’re going to pay back Pierson Brothers for their part in this and make sure Sergei doesn’t have them as an option to skip town again.”
“You’re that sure he’ll come back.”
“Positive,” I maintained. “They’ll sneak back into port tonight and that’s when we’ll hit them.”
“What about Sergei?”
“He’s no longer an issue.”
Q looked surprised. “You want to explain that?”
“I know what’s going on and we’ve been playing this wrong from the beginning. It’s time to straighten that out.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on, you know something’s been hinky with this whole deal from the beginning.”
“And?”
“Let’s review,” I said. “Sergei’s got this nice little business. He brings in girls from the Baltics and runs them as hookers and strippers and maybe sells his customers a little blow to go with the blow job. He’s making three hundred large a week and no one is bothering him.”
“Okay,” Q agreed.
“So along comes the Pierson Brothers with this convoluted plan to boost a couple million in lead bricks. If you’re Sergei, what do you say to that plan?”
“I say no,” Q said immediately.
“Why? It’s easy money.”
“Because it’s not my business. I’m making good bank why would I fuck that up?”
“Exactly.”
“So why’d he do it?”
“I don’t think he did,” I said.
“Then why’d he take a shot at us?”
“I don’t think he did that, either.”
“The blond-haired guy,” Q guessed.
“I think he’s been playing us both. And, here’s the really sucky thing,” I began, “I think we could have settled this whole thing in 20 minutes with a phone call.”
“You had no way of knowing that.”
“Yeah, but I also didn’t try the easy route first. We get so wrapped up in cloak and dagger shit sometimes that we miss the trees because the forest is in the way.”
“So, Sergei--”
“Is confused as fuck,” I finished for him. “He’s wondering why we went off the rails and took a shot at his guys when all he wanted to do was talk. And now he’s wonder
ing why we busted up his club, but were really careful not to kill anyone. He’s as confused as we are and it doesn’t make a goddamn bit of sense to him. He knows we’re not law enforcement or moral crusaders. From his perspective this is a giant, steaming pile of What The Fuck?”
The Blue Tango Salvage: Book 2 in the Recovery and Marine Salvage, Inc. Series Page 29