Dirty Passions

by Wright, Kenya

  “What happened to him?” Rolan stirred. “He’s no longer naked, and definitely not on the floor connected to anybody’s chain. And if he knew this picture still existed, he could start a war between Nigeria and Russia. Not that President Smirnov would worry, but the brotherhood would because all drugs to Europe would cease.”

  I leaned forward. “Who is he?”

  “Fela Oni.”

  My head throbbed in pain. “The leader of Black Axe.”

  “Yes.” Rolan nodded.

  Emily turned to me. “Black Axe?”

  Things are starting to make more sense.

  I ran my fingers through my hair. “Black Axe is a Nigerian gang—”

  “Black Axe is bigger than a gang now.” Rolan pushed the picture further away as if it could infect him. “Black Axe is being called the new mafia. It’s rumored that they’ve been giving the Italians a lot of trouble these days. Especially in the southern Italian region of Calabria—one of the global juggernauts that controls the import of tens of billions of Latin American cocaine into Europe every year.”

  I grabbed the picture, picked it up, and studied the image. “This is Fela Oni?”

  Rolan nodded. “It is.”

  More pain hit my temple.

  Emily turned to me. “You know him?”

  “I’ve met with him, and also his son, over disputes with the Italians. I’ve always served as a mediator between them, but Uncle Igor and Rolan knew more about the gang than me. Due to their friendship with Fela.”

  Emily went back to Rolan. “What’s the history of Black Axe?”

  “In the 70s, Black Axe was something different than it is today. Mainly college students. Many who had gotten degrees in Russia. When they returned to their countries, they formed the Neo-Black Movement of Africa. It grew in Nigeria. But now the gang is more of a splinter group. Fela is a genius in many ways. He wrote several books. Many discussing the need for redirection of all minds towards Black Realism.”

  Shocked, Emily leaned back in her chair.

  “Other books were to teach people the discipline of the body and mind and how to prevent negative images of Black people.” Rolan shrugged. “Many of these I have on my bookshelf at my apartment in Vienna. All of them are signed by him.”

  “You both are still in touch?”

  “We haven’t talked in years, not since the huge meeting we had with him.” Rolan pointed my way. “You were there.”

  “What meeting?” Emily looked at me.

  “This is a long story.” I set the picture back on the desk and rose from my chair. “Black Axe and the brotherhood have an interesting relationship.”

  “And you can’t forget the Italians mix-up within it.” Rolan nodded. “The brotherhood and Sicilians have a history together too, but it was also helpful to be friends with Fela’s groups.”

  “So,” Emily checked both of our strained expressions. “We’re talking about Black Axe and Sicilians.”

  “And another group,” I corrected.

  Rolan jumped in, “In this area in Italy, it is the home of another mafia group—the ‘Ndrangheta. They’re bigger than Cosa Nostra. They’re bloody, ruthless.”

  “Why are the ‘Ndrangheta important?” Emily asked.

  I walked over to the demon painting, needing something to anchor me. “Ndrangheta is important because at the moment, one can’t tell who will take over the cocaine trade just yet. As I said, Black Axe has been bitch slapping the Italians around for a few years.”

  “I’m sorry.” Emily sighed. “I’m a little lost.”

  “Calabria is Italy’s European Cocaine Capital.” I wished I had a map to show her. “In Calabria, the Gioia Tauro port is considered a major hub for international drug trafficking.”

  Rolan added, “The ‘Ndrangheta controls it. They’re currently seen as the most powerful of Italy's three traditional mafia organizations.”

  I explained, “Due to the ‘Ndrangheta controlling this port in Calabria, they set the prices and transport of all drugs going into Europe. And this way of life is deep within their blood. When the men are arrested, the women take over the business. Therefore, ‘Ndrangheta marriages aren’t about love or honor. Everything is about business to the point where. . .”

  “Siblings and cousins marry the other to maintain the deals.” Rolan shook his head. “They’re blood is crazy.”

  “Okay. And this man.” Emily pointed to the picture. “Fela Oni is giving the Ndrangheta mafia trouble? How did a Nigerian gang get involved with an Italian mob?”

  “Blame Igor and Kazimir’s connection of the Italians and Nigerians. This is why the lion is always called in to deal with any of their disputes.”

  I turned away from the painting and walked over to the desk. “Years ago, direct drug shipments from South America raised red flags with authorities—”

  “So, your lion and his Uncle Igor introduced the West African Hub.” Rolan uncrossed his legs. “They gave the Italians and all the others the idea to make countries of West Africa waypoints in the cocaine trade to Europe. Genius, but problems came.”

  “The Ivory Coast and Nigeria became one of the major drug hubs. Many of us began to run numerous routes at once, switching and adapting in response to law enforcement action. Which brought African migrants over—mainly Nigerian.” I sat back down in my chair and placed my hands on the desk, tracing a route on the desk. “Little by little, these migrants organized and encroached on the illegal trades. Eventually, Black Axe took over all operations. Not only do the ‘Ndrangheta battle them. But in Palermo, there’s an uneasy alliance that exists between the traditional Sicilian mafia and Black Axe.”

  “Hold on.” Emily pulled out a sticky pad from the desk and a pen. She placed one near her and wrote down Nigeria. “The drugs from South America go to Nigeria?”

  “Yes.”

  She wrote down Italy and placed it further away. “Then they go onto Nigerian boats and head to Calabria?”

  “Yes.” I took her pad and wrote down Sicilian on one and then ‘Ndrangheta on the other. “The port that Ndrangheta is here, but unfortunately it’s pretty damn close to the region of Sicily which has the Sicilian mob constantly placing their nose in everything.”

  “And Fela Oni somehow took over and is now the head of drugs going into Europe?” She wrote his name on a note and gave it to me.

  “Yes. He snatched the drug trade from all of them.” I placed the note above both Italian groups.

  “This is heralding in a new era of organized crime.” Rolan rose. “It also means that Fela Oni is a very dangerous and powerful man. Burn that picture.”

  “I will, after I’m done with it.”

  “Mother Mary.” Rolan shook his head at me. “Can I have a drink, nephew? This is too much to talk about.”

  “Yes.” I gestured behind me. “Make yourself something.”

  Emily turned to me. “So, how do we think this picture and the drug trade connects to the monkey heads, chimpanzee, and gorilla?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Okay.” She stared at the sticky notes. “What else can you tell me about Black Axe and the Italians?”

  Rolan went over to the bar and poured a glass of vodka. “This wave of migration from Africa has changed southern Italy a lot. The neighborhoods under mafia control have shifted to the growing presence of foreigners. And Black Axe has now taken over more. They’re linked to illegal trafficking, prostitution, and drug dealing.”

  “The Sicilians and ‘Ndrangheta aren’t happy about it.” I shrugged. “And they’re not happy with me for coming up with the idea. So when problems arise, they call me in as if this is my mess to clean up. And I’ve been nice about it, because all three groups provide a healthy income to the brotherhood.”

  “The brotherhood gets money from Black Axe, ‘Ndrangheta, and the Sicilians?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “Due to business dealings.”

  Rolan walked back over with his glass. “But if that picture gets out, t
here may be some conflict.”

  Emily tapped her fingernails on the desk. “Back to this picture, why does Adrik have Fela naked and at the end of a chained leash?”

  Rolan grimaced. “Must we talk about this?”

  I clenched my jaw. “Yes.”

  Rolan took a big chug of his vodka and then answered. “Adrik had Fela on the leash because he was keeping him as a pet for three months.”

  Emily rolled her eyes. “Excuse me?”

  “Fela came to Moscow during the Soviet Union years to go to college. He ended up messing with Adrik’s sister—who frankly wasn’t that good-looking anyway. Adrik should have been happy someone wanted to kiss her—”

  “Get on with the story, Uncle Rolan.”

  “The first time Adrik caught Fela with his sister, he beat up. Fela must’ve loved the ugly woman because he continued to date her. The second time Adrik caught Fela, he came close to killing him, but his sister convinced him to do something else.”

  Emily didn’t appear pleased. “She was okay with Fela being her brother’s naked, chained pet?”

  “It was better than death.” Rolan took another swallow. “Again, Burn that photo immediately. That moment in time is the very reason why Fela is not a loveable college kid. It changed him. When he returned to Nigeria, he started that movement.”

  “Fela will not see this photo. I’m only keeping it because I want to know why my mouse’s man was killed over it.”

  Rolan held his glass in the air. “Who do you think killed her man?”

  “It makes sense that Zahkar would want this photo hidden. Can you think of anyone else?”

  “I’m surprised Zahkar would have had possession of that photo. This image is a secret.” Rolan took a gulp of his vodka. “Do you remember who killed Adrik?”

  “No.”

  “Not many do. That is also a secret.” Rolan gulped more of his vodka. “Fela killed Adrik and then went to your father. Fela gave him evidence about Adrik’s plans to take over the King’s position. Your father gave that information to the King. Next, the King appreciated and told your father to hid Adrik’s body and send Fela back to Nigeria with a good sum of money.”

  I raised my brows. “Adrik planned to kill the King?”

  Rolan nodded. “And since Fela sat on the floor like a damn dog, listening to Adrik’s plans, he was able to provide evidence and give names of all that were involved.”

  Emily clenched her teeth. “I still can’t believe Fela was his dog for so long.”

  Rolan continued, “Fela returned to Nigeria with half of a college education and a good bit of money from the King. There a movement and gangster was born.”

  “I didn’t know this story.”

  Rolan took another gulp. “No one knows this story. In fact, you still don’t know this story. You have enough enemies. There’s no need to stoke the fires with Fela.”

  “Someone is involved in terrorizing my mouse and it may go back to this situation.”

  “Still,” Rolan added. “Be mindful of this. For now, there is a subordinate relationship between Sicily’s Cosa Nostra, and Black Axe, but that’s not the case in Calabria with the ‘Ndrangheta. Black Axe rose against them. Soon, they will do the same in Sicily. Years will continue and Black Axe may come to Russia. It could be a good time to reconnect with Fela, but not with this history.”

  “I have enough going on.”

  Intrigued, Emily asked, “Why does Cosa Nostra still have control?”

  Rolan tapped his head. “Your mouse is the business side of your relationship. I see.”

  I frowned.

  “Cosa Nostra have strict rules with Black Axe. They’ve done this to maintain control over Fela and his men. They won’t let the Nigerians have possession of any guns in the region of Sicily.” Rolan shook his head. “For now, it’s worked. But it won’t stick. Fela will change that.”

  “Why do you think he will?” Emily asked.

  “While Fela may not have full control of the drug dealing in Sicily, prostitution is Black Axe’s most profitable businesses in that region. Currently, 90% of the prostitutes in Sicily now come from Nigeria.”

  Emily raised her brows. “How did Black Axe get control of the region’s prostitution?”

  I offered the answer, “Cosa Nostra is reluctant to manage this business.”

  “It’s according to their old mafia codes of honor, prostitution is considered a shameful activity.” Rolan gave her a sad smile. “Yet, that has not stopped Cosa Nostra soldiers from going into the Nigerian brothels and getting a taste of—”

  “Careful, Uncle Rolan,” I warned.

  “I was going to say chocolate love. It appears the Sicilians have a serious addiction to black women.”

  “Chocolate love?” I scowled. “That isn’t any better than what I thought you would say.”

  Emily smiled. “It’s fine.”

  “I apologize, Emily, for my comment and that picture. Seeing an image like that must have worried you about the brotherhood.” Rolan finished his glass. “We’re not a group of gentlemen, but most of us don’t treat other human beings like animals. The ones that do, tend to have odd, unexpected endings.”

  “Someone’s been leaving dead monkeys and gorillas in our bedroom,” I said.

  Horror covered Rolan’s face. “Then, Moscow will be a war zone soon.”

  I pushed the picture over to him. “I have more questions about this.”

  “Then, I’m making another drink.” Rolan rose and headed over to the bar. “How can I help?”

  “The other man in the picture.” I pointed. “My god father. Do you have any idea where he could be right now?”

  “Timur?” Rolan poured his glass and returned to the desk. “I’ve visited Timur from time to time. More just to make sure he hasn’t killed himself. You see. . .Timur had gone insane.”

  “How?”

  “He’s in America. Out in the woods. Building a church with no followers. A good man with a broken brain.”

  Emily blinked. “Building a church with no followers?”

  “Timur would not have had anything to do with this monkey business,” Rolan continued. “When your father died, Timur left for the States and monitored many of the brotherhood’s activities on the West Coast. He is completely disconnected from anything that went on in Europe.”

  “You can’t think of any link?” I asked.

  “There’s only one. When Igor’s wife died, Igor began messing with Timur’s sister, Celina. Which caused a lot of friction between them. Timur no longer talked to Igor after that.”

  I raised my brows. “Celina? The one who took my codes and started the whole battle between Igor and the French?”

  “Yes. That Celina.”

  “I didn’t realize that was my god father’s sister.”

  “It is. Although we have all tried to forget. But it is also the reason why she gained so much power with the brotherhood. Many loved Timur, while others idolized Igor.”

  Emily raised both hands in shock. “Wait. If. . .your god father, Timur, is Celina’s brother, then his daughter is Eden. Jean-Pierre’s girlfriend.”

  Rolan nodded. “Yes. That was his little one’s name. Eden. She plays violin in the States. Timur is always showing me pictures of her.”

  Isn’t that just great.

  “Small world.” I rose and got my own glass of vodka. “Could Timur be seeking revenge against my problem with his sister?”

  “I doubt Timur knows anything about it. Too busy working on his church. Kazimir, Timur is a good man. You’re not to bother Timur, or his daughter, Eden.”

  “His daughter is with the head of the Corsican. She may be a—”

  “Timur saved your mother from a bullet, not once, but twice. You would have never known her without Timur being her personal guard.”

  I groaned.

  “You were also kidnapped when you were a toddler and found by Timur. He brought the kidnapper’s head to your father who pissed in the head’s open
ing.” Rolan pointed at me. “You would not be standing here, if not for Timur. You would not know your mother, if not for Timur. And—”

  “I’ve got it.” I finished pouring the glass and returned to my seat.

  “Promise me you will now return the favor and keep Timur’s daughter safe. In some ways, she is your sister.”

  She is not my sister.

  Frowning, I swallowed some of the vodka.

  “Whoa.” Emily scratched her head. “It is a small world.”

  “I mean it. Don’t touch Timur or his daughter, Kazzy Bear.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I promise.”

  “If I hear anything about her demise and it has to do with you, I will come your way and I will not be bringing candy.”

  “No need to threaten me, Uncle Rolan.”

  “I just want to make sure that you understand this. Any more questions?” Rolan asked. “Or will there be more traveling down memory lane?”

  I flipped the picture over, showing him the Knights of Babylon’s symbol. “And this?”

  Rolan held his glass in mid-air.

  “Are you apart of them?”

  Rolan set the glass down. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack today?”

  Emily shook her head. “When we found it, this was on the picture.”

  “I’ve seen this picture before. . .more times than I’ve ever wanted to.” Rolan finished his glass. “I promise you that this symbol was never drawn on it. In fact, the marking looks fresh.”

  I leaned my head to the side. “And you’re some sort of ink specialist now?”

  “You call me here for my help.” Rolan pointed at me. “Now listen to my answers and be happy with it. I am not a part of the Knights of Babylon. I prefer drinking vodka to blood.”

  “And my father?”

  Rolan cursed. “You forsake his name?”

  “I was nervous, when I saw the picture.”

  “No one in that photo was ever a member of the Knights of Babylon. That I can assure you. Igor tried to be a part of the group, searching them out.”

  Still holding my glass, I leaned back in my chair. “He did?”

  “He did. Too much of his searching and asking questions, resulted in Igor getting an unwanted visit in the middle of the night.” Rolan set his glass down. “A bunch of men showed up in cloaks with masks on their faces. He was in his bed. Your aunt was still asleep.”