Back at my dock, Bob asked how it went.
“It went but it was real hairy. Get rid of the jet ski and let’s have a drink, and I’ll tell you about it.”
We sat there in the dark and watched the boats coming and going trying to find the man on the jet ski.
“The one thing I forgot,” I told Bob, “was the automatic generator. As often as we lose power on this side of the island, it was a no brainer that he’d have one.” I grunted, “Even I have one.
“Boss, you have a back up to the back up.”
We laughed but it wasn’t really funny.
We watched the bay alive with all kinds of boats searching for the killer that got away. It kept up for more than three hours before I went into the house at sunrise.
I slept until noon when I was awakened by a knock at my door. One of the maids said the police was here to see me.
I washed my face and went to greet them. I knew they had nothing or I would be in cuffs by now.
“Sorry,” I said, “I was on the phone. Would either of you like coffee?”
They declined. “Did you hear or see anything unusual last night?”
“Not until all the boats with lights were in the bay and what I thought was automatic gunfire before that. So what’s going on anyhow?”
“Your neighbor was killed last night. The assassin came by sea.”
“You’re shitting me!” I said. “Should I move my family to some place safer? I mean my wife, I have no more family. Was he raided?”
“We don’t think so,” the first cop said.
“This is merely speculation,” the second one added, “because at this point we don’t know anything about who might have done this.”
“Well, I’ll tell my staff to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary,” I volunteered with as much concern as I could muster.
“Thanks,” they both said and excused themselves. After they were gone, I went back to my room to turn the TV on to see what the news had to say about last night’s events.
CHAPTER 13
After a week or so things got back to normal but the talking heads on TV kept going on and on about the target’s philanthropy and how he had helped so many young people hooked on heroin. If they only knew, I thought, my stomach churning at the crap the media was reporting.
I went to see Bob and said, “Let’s go out in the work car and see if the street vendors are still gone.”
We made the rounds and found that the street vendors had all been replaced by Mexican gang members.
We headed back to the boat where we talked about the new situation.
“Now that the kingpin is gone, the vendors may not be replaced if they disappear this time around. I want to take them out to blue water,” I said. “I kinda liked it.”
“Me, too,” Bob said, “as long as I don’t have to see feeding time.”
We planned on going out the following night. We started putting guys in the trunk about midnight. As big as the trunk was, we could only get two in there and more would be uncomfortable, and we wouldn’t want that. So we also put two in the back seat trussed up and gagged.
At the boat we got them to their feet but blind folded them and kept our guns on them. At the big boat we locked them in one of the staterooms and went out to sea.
At “the spot” or at least what we thought was the spot, we brought them to the weather deck where we cuffed them together in a chain.
“Now get in the water,” I ordered.
A couple of them shook their heads, but after shoving the muzzle of my gun in their faces, they did as they were told.
Once they were treading water, I threw in two floating filet knives. The fight to stay alive started, two with knives and two without.
Of course I told them there would only be one winner, and he would earn a ride home, which we decided to do this time.
At first it looked like the big man would win, then the smaller man with a knife cut himself loose from the pack by cutting the hand off the man he was cuffed to.
That man no longer paid any attention to the others as one of his hands had just been cut off, and he was bleeding into the water.
The smaller man then attacked the bigger one who had a knife but was still cuffed to someone else.
As the smaller man swam free and approached the big man, the big one tried to kill the man he was cuffed to and then cut his hand free.
But it was too late. The smaller man just cut his throat, and his knife floated free. The sharks appeared and went in for the kill, biting at the men who were bleeding. The sound of their screams and breaking bones filled the air. Flesh was torn from them as they popped up and down in the water like fishing bobbers. The sharks finally pulled them under.
In the meantime the one lone survivor had gotten up onto the scuba platform, clinging to it for his life. “I won,” he managed to spit out.
Bob and I let him climb aboard then put a pillow case over his head and tied him up again. He shivered violently with relief and cold.
Back at the dock, we transferred him to our car trunk and drove him to the corner where we’d found him. We turned him loose so he could tell the rest what had happened to him, what was going to happen to them if they kept working the street.
Back at the estate Bob and I decided that we must turn a survivor loose every time to get the word out. We also thought it would be best if we changed cars and gave them two weeks to be nervous.
When the time came, we went out in the new car. I had Bob drop me off one block away and walked to the corner with my silenced 9-mm as backup. I even wore a fake beard.
When I got to the corner, I disarmed the operator. Bob pulled the car up, I opened the trunk, cuffed the target, put a bag over his head and proceeded with a search for another operator.
At the next stop the man put up a fight when I tried to take his gun, so I shot him several times and, taking his gun, left him there for dead.
The next stop went better, and so did the next one after that. We had four now, so we headed to the boat.
Out to sea, after all four were in the water, I gave them my speech about one man getting a ride back to shore. I threw the floating knives into the water.
To our surprise they didn’t move.
“We’re not playing your game,” one of them shouted with defiance.
“Pound sand,” another yelled.
Bob and I just looked at each other, then I said, “OK, all of you swim.”
Bob started the engine up and moved on out.
As they got smaller in size, Bob said, “It’s fifteen or twenty miles. They’ll never make it.” So we went home.
The next night we went out again and each corner man had something new, an armed guard. Then we found out that the Coast Guard had picked the four up the night before.
We had to change our tactics to ensnare the guards.
Bob went to a thrift shop and got me some clothes; I put on a beard and long hair and carried a cane. This got me close, and they paid no attention to me, thinking I was just another old black man.
When I got beside them, I pulled out my pistol and disarmed them both and made them get in the car trunk. We saw another man down the block take off running. We pulled the same stunt at the next stop and got two more.
At “the spot,” we cuffed our captives together and made them get in the water.
After throwing the knives in, I said, “We are staying here until there is one of you left alive. So it won’t be like last time; one gets a ride home, and the other three are shark food.”
They started to try to get to the knives right away, pulling and punching each other. As one got a knife he cut the other one who was about to get the second knife and tried to stab him also but was stabbed instead by the other man. Then a shark must have hit one of them who was not cut or had a knife, which started a huge feeding frenzy that went through all the other sharks, which started to hit the men in the water.
No matter if they were cut or not a
mong the screams and the churning and boiling of the water, I could only see the men for three or four minutes. Then the surface got quiet because the food, the men, were twenty feet under the surface being torn apart.
“Looks like the sharks know that when we come out, there’s food. Let’s head home.”
Back on the dock I told Bob we would take a different tack from now on, and I went to the house.
I spent some time with Tamara and her friend for some mind numbing sex. Tamara said I was hotter than ever.
We let a week go by before we went out again. At the first stop, I got out of the car in makeup, carrying my cane and a machete. The machete was attached to a magnet on my back and I could pull it in less than a heartbeat.
As I approached the first couple and pulled the machete, I saw one of the men jerk his pistol from his belt. In response I cut his hand off, the action also cutting several inches into his abdomen. His gun fell from his hand to the sidewalk as he screamed.
Before the other one could pull out his pistol, I cut his head off; he took a couple of jerky steps before falling to the sidewalk.
The first man tried to run, but I cut his escape short by cutting deep into one of his legs as he took a first step. This caused him to fall to the sidewalk.
I walked over to him and held my machete over him as I said, “This is what is going to happen to all the street vendors that I can find. Save yourself and tell the others.”
Somebody must have seen what happened because no matter where we went or how we looked, the corners were empty of dealers.
I knew the lack of cash flow would start to hurt them in two or three days.
The next day to our surprise every corner was filled. Bob found out that they felt safer in the daytime.
That night we went out again and there was nobody around but junkies. I rolled down my window and asked what was going on.
The junkie said that they only sell in the daytime now or out of a safe house at night.
I asked him, “Do you know where I can get some smack?”
He told me where we could find a house. After talking it over we just drove by the house and decided to go back the next night.
I put on my makeup, and we went back the next night to buy a dime of heroin.
No matter what I tried to do, they would not open the door. They would only talk through a hole. I went back to the car.
When I told Bob what had happened, he said, “Well there’s only one thing to do.”
“What’s that?”
“We burn them out.”
“Good idea.”
We went back to the landscaping shed on my estate and got a can of gas so there wouldn’t be a sale to trace.
Back at the target’s house, Bob went to the back door with his 9-mm, and I went to the front with the gas can. I poured the gas all over the door and porch, then I lit it. I could hear people inside scurrying around even though they were not touched by the flames. They ran to the back door and out, where Bob shot them one at a time.
There had been four people in that house and now there were four dead men in the back yard.
On the drive home we talked about finding the rest of the houses, or trying to work during the day. It was daytime anyhow.
When I got home the cops and an ambulance were parked in front of my door. I ran to the house where my wife was on a gurney being taken out to the ambulance.
Karen told me that Lucia had choked on her own throw up, and that she throws up most every day. She was alive but needed to be in a hospital for a few days.
I asked the drivers where they were taking her.
They stared at me, and I remembered I still had on my disguise. I should have taken care of it in the car.
At the hospital Lucia was sedated, so I could not talk to her. I told her doctor about our kids’ deaths and her drinking. He wanted to keep her a few days and have a grief counselor talk to her, so I went home.
There, I gathered all the inside help in one room and asked them what had been going on with my wife for the last few months.
It was even worse than I thought, so I called the doctor who was taking care of her and told him of my conversation with the help, and that I wanted the grief counselor or a psychiatrist to spend time with her.
That night Bob and I went out again to locate houses. After some work, we could only find three; one was the house we were just at, and one was an apartment where the man lived with his wife and two kids. That was out of the question.
We went back to the first house. We could tell there were people inside, but somebody must have tipped them off because nobody answered the door. I stuck my 9mm in the hole and emptied a clip. I heard people running, and they shot back.
We went on to the second house which had a lookout on a cell phone. We took him out first then went to the front door. I bought a dime bag and still couldn’t see past the peep hole.
When I got back in the car, Bob said, “Well, we could bomb them or start a fire again. I brought the gas this time. Let’s start a fire!”
I walked up to the front door holding the gas can, and Bob went to the back door as before. I poured the gas all over the door and windows, but this time gunfire erupted inside and slugs came through the door. I threw a lit wood match to the gas and whoosh, it went up in flames.
As before, men came running out the back door where Bob shot them as they came out. He let the guns and money lay where they fell. You never want stolen guns or guns from others as you never know if they were used in a killing or a bank robbery.
We went on to the next house, but as soon as we started the fire and got set up, we heard sirens. The jig was up. We needed to do this in the day time.
We needed a new plan!
Back at the house we decided to see the day time street vendors. We could not use the same disguise we had been using with the old tattered clothes and cane, so we went for a wheel chair and makeup to get next to the street people.
With the first one I was let off around the corner and put a towel over my legs which covered my gun and machete on the wheel chair. I also put a new twist in it. I took a stun gun.
When I rolled up, the people on the corner didn’t pay much attention to me. I pulled out the stun gun and discharged it against the leg of one of the men. He fell like a rock to the sidewalk and went into convulsions. When the other two bent over looking at him, I discharged the stun gun on them, too.
By the time Bob pulled up, I had disarmed them all. We dumped them in the car and headed for the boat.
On the boat at our special spot, we walked them to the back deck, uncuffed them and forced them into the water. But this time we didn’t throw a knife in with them. We told them we were ten miles out, so swim for it.
We were really twenty miles out.
After bidding them good luck and good day, we left for home. If they made it, they would tell everybody else, and they had no chance of finding us as Bob had removed the name from the boat months ago. They also had to swim through what we now called shark reef.
We talked about the three men and their swim on the way home. We didn’t like it as much as cuffing them together and the knife fights, and the sharks, so we decided that whether they got back or not, we were going back to feeding the sharks.
CHAPTER 14
A week went by before we went out again. This time we took no old clothes, no fake beards and no wheel chairs, just guns and stun guns.
When we pulled up to the first street vendor, I jumped out, gun in hand, disarmed him and walked him back to the trunk. After he got in, I discharged the stun gun on him and cuffed him behind his back.
We went on to the next location and picked up two more and let a drug addict go. He reminded me of Teo.
On the boat at our spot we took off their hoods and made them get in the water.
They looked like a chain of heads as that was all that stuck up out of the water. They never quit begging or pleading for their lives.
Soon I threw on
e of the floating filet knives into the water but far from them. They would have to fight their way to the knife, the first one dragging the bad swimmers with him.
The first one to reach the knife started slashing wildly at the others with his free hand. As this was not his strong side, his hand was trapped by one of the other swimmers. Then he was held under water until the one doing the trapping emerged with the knife in hand and cut the other’s throat with one arc of the blade. With almost the same arc, he stabbed the other one.
As they were disabled one at a time, he cut off the hand that were entrapped in the cuffs and freed himself to tend to his last participant who was swimming away from him as fast as he could. He turned to swim to the boat.
Pointing my pistol at him, I said, “If you touch this boat I will shoot you in the shoulders. Only the winner gets a ride, only one person.”
With that he turned toward the man swimming away and started to chase after him. We watched as they swam for a while, each pausing to catch his breath before starting to swim again.
All this time in an effort to catch the other, they got farther and farther away from the boat, one with a cuff and knife and the other with just a cuff.
Both cuffs gleamed in the sunlight every time they broke the water. The man doing the chasing was catching up to the other one, so we moved the boat closer to see better.
They were both very tired now. Either the lead man was running out of steam or he wanted to fight the one with the knife and get it over with. Soon they were within ten feet of each other. The one with no knife made a brass knuckle out of his hand cuff, and as the other man approached, he hit him in the face, taking out his eyelid. Several more blows caused the knife to fall from his hand.
Now the other one had the knife and started to slash the pursuer’s hands and face. When he had totally subdued the other, he plunged the knife in his chest several times, killing him.
Bob and I looked at each other and decided to give the winner his ride home. We dragged him aboard, cuffed him, put his hood on and took him back to his corner.
Smugglers 3 Accidental Kingpin Page 11