Los Zetas Cartel Collection (3 book series)

by AJ Adams

  “Sí jefe!”

  It surprised me, being called boss, but there was no doubt that I was. Hopefully it would be a very, very short term. Not having Jorge’s economic and finance training meant I would be a lousy substitute. Still, it doesn’t do to let the troops know you have doubts, so it was back to the office for a meeting.

  Favo, Paco and Lencho updated me on their findings and reported no evidence that the Peckham Knaves were in on the shooting. “They’re not tight like us, so there are lots of people going off on lone missions,” Paco told me. “This looks like one of them.”

  To make certain, I went over everything with them, which took most of the afternoon. It was time well spent, because it gave me a handle on all the players and the situation on the ground. It’s good to know the lay of the land, so I was cheering up. Also, revenge is something I do very well.

  “Right, so we take out Sooty. We’ll put the word around why. That will keep people from getting ideas.”

  The problem was finding the fucker. Sooty had last been spotted buying booze with a girl. They’d both vanished, probably holing up in her place for a sausage fest.

  “She’s a kid,” Matu was disapproving. “Much too young for the capullo. It’s disgusting!”

  “There’s a woman after him,” Lencho piped up. “He’s popular, God knows why.”

  “Let me guess. The woman is a cold-eyed, hard-assed bruja called Truelove?”

  Right on the button.

  “There’s some talk that she’s Sooty’s new mistress,” Lencho said. “But others say no way. Seems she hates men.”

  She would. She was probably a dyke. She was definitely a witch because at that very minute she called. “Hey, are you in or out?”

  I wanted the watch and the property but I could feel my hands curl into fists with rage as I replied, carefully casual in front of the men, “In. What do you have in mind?”

  “Meet me in Aylesbury Estate,” she rattled off an address. “How fast can you get here?”

  I asked James. “Fifteen minutes.”

  “Try and make it faster. Oh, and listen, that place is just as nasty as Nuevo Laredo, so make sure you’re prepared.”

  The witch knew where I lived. She’d done her homework or maybe she’d just interrogated her pet demon. It wouldn’t surprise me if she had half of hell on her contact list.

  “Are you listening?” she asked impatiently. “I’m saying, bring your friends.”

  Like I need backup to deal with some goddamn punk estate! “I’ll be there.” I sounded calm, in control, but I had such a hard clutch on my phone that it was a wonder it didn’t splinter. Everyone knew of course that I was goddamn mad, and I was getting some funny looks.

  “I’ll drive,” James said into the silence. “That place is a dump. They’d have the car chopped and shopped in a heartbeat.”

  As I didn’t know where it was anyway, I agreed. He knew better than to ask questions, and I wasn’t in a mood to talk. I spent the time controlling my temper. Also, I was thinking that I might just kill her after she handed my watch over. I wouldn’t because as a man I’m above killing a girl out of revenge, but I was having a good time imagining taken her apart.

  She was standing on a street corner. We’d gotten there in eleven minutes, but she was pacing like a tiger in a cage. She was talking before I could get out.

  “My ex’s little niece is in one of the flats up there.” She pointed at a maze of cheap apartments that looked like Sing Sing correctional facility. “She celebrated her thirteenth birthday three weeks ago and from what I’ve learned, she up there being held by three men, maybe more.”

  “Hijos de putas!” I couldn’t stop myself. “She’s thirteen? No me jodas!”

  “I guess you don’t like paedos.”

  For a second I couldn’t believe my ears. “You think I’m one of them? What the fuck!”

  She stepped back and put her hands up. “No! I guess not!”

  “You guess?” I was speechless with outrage.

  “Listen, I’ll apologise later.” Her eyes were urgent. “Please. She’s been up there all night and all day.” She was blinking back tears. “Her name is Delicia.”

  There are some things that blow personal shit out of the window, and having a kid being gang-raped is right at the top of the list, as far as I’m concerned. “We’ll have her out of there right now,” I told the bruja, and I meant it.

  They were on the fifth floor, and as the lifts weren’t working, we ran up the stairs. The bruja was red-faced but determined to keep up.

  When we got there, I motioned her to stand back. There was nobody around, but I was certain a hundred eyes were watching. A loud continuous thump of hip-hop drifted out of the apartment. There was no way to know how many were inside or whether they were packing. It wasn’t ideal, but there was a kid in there; I had to go in blind.

  “Listen, keep behind me.”

  “Okay.” To my surprise she pulled out a telescoping baton. Her eyes were blazing with fury. I had no doubt she’d have my back.

  I kept my voice low. “I go in; you don’t do anything until and unless you are attacked. Do not get in my way.”

  “Got it.”

  “And don’t scream or yell.”

  “Stop yapping and go already!”

  Pinche bruja, giving me battle orders!

  I took out my gun, stepped back and kicked the door in. Three steps cleared the empty kitchen, another two put me in a living room. There was just one fucker staring at me in drugged surprise, his eyes pinpoints.

  I pistol-whipped him, “Where’s the girl?” I’d broken his teeth, so he just squealed, spitting blood and yelling, “In there! Jesus!” And pointed to a door.

  I bashed him again in the same way, just to keep him occupied and in place. Then I stepped back, noting the bruja was obeying orders and keeping behind me, at a sensible distance, too. She was reliable. “Cover him!”

  With her keeping her cool, I was free to move to the door. I was through it a second later and on top of two men in bed with a little chica. God helped me keep it together so I didn’t shoot. The two scrambled back, terrified of the Magnum. The girl was alive but not moving much. I could see she was drugged, too.

  “Out!” I motioned them into the main room, herding them with their bleeding buddy. “Sit!” When they sat, I looked at the bruja. “Go see Delicia. Take your time.”

  “Get their phones.” Then she was past me like a shot. I expected a wail, but apart from a single sob, she was silent.

  I looked at the three sons of bitches, not one of them under twenty five. These weren’t kids messing about; these were men who should’ve known better.

  I thought about killing them, but I wasn’t sure what consequences would be. Everyone tolerates a punishment beating, especially for rape, but killing usually starts a war. With Jorge planning to move in properly in about six months, I didn’t want to mess up his timeframe. I decided therefore to let these fuckers live. For now.

  I took out my spare, my little .22 with the super suppressor, and I shot them all, aiming at knees. It meant they’d be helpless for the punishment I’d deal out.

  They were squealing like pigs, so I turned up the music. I found what I was looking for easily in the shape of a golf club. I don’t play, but I happen to be pretty nifty with a three iron. I love them, because you get lots of power with very little effort. Yeah, I’m all about efficiency when I’m working.

  You can kill someone too easily with a golf club so I focused on ankles, crunching all those little bones inside with careful whacks, and arms, so they’d not be able to take a leak or drink coffee without help. I ended with bashing some ribs; just so that they’d remember with every breath they took for the next fortnight that it really doesn’t pay to fuck little girls.

  I have to say this bunch were cowards. They were crying all the way through their beatings, begging me to stop.

  “I’ve got a wife and a baby,” one of the assholes whimpered.

>   “You should’ve thought of that when you took that little kid, you fucker.”

  I had no mercy. When it was over, I kicked the one nearest to me quiet. I put my gun in his face. “Go near that girl again, and you’re dead.” He shat himself, the coward, so I knew I had his attention. I did the same to the others and got two sets of piss. Pathetic.

  I took their phones, and a quick look convinced me the bruja was thinking ahead: they’d been taking selfies all day and all night. It made me see red again, so they got an extra couple of whacks. This time they were too far gone to beg.

  Although it was all quiet, it was time to go. Even with the suppressor and the music some noise would have leaked out, and these jokers might have friends coming to see what was going on.

  I dragged the pendejos behind the sofa so that the little pobracita wouldn’t have to see them. “Bruja, it’s time to move.”

  Her voice floated cool but clear from the bedroom. “She’s doped up, and I can’t carry her.”

  The little one was conscious and talking but still way out of it. She didn’t have a stitch on, so I wrapped her in the top sheet, threw her over my shoulder and we were out of there.

  Thanks to my tidy-up the chiquitína didn’t see anything to upset her, which was a relief. The bruja gasped when she saw all the blood, but she didn’t stop or exclaim. She was one hell of a tough girl.

  James was waiting by the car, smoking a cigarette. He didn’t say a word, but when he saw the chiquitína he frowned, and I could see he was raging. He’s a good man, James. He had the door open in a flash and the engine going a second later.

  “Get in, bruja.” I pushed her into the back seat and put the little chica into her arms. “Hospital?”

  “No. Her aunt’s house.” She gave James the address.

  “Sure?”

  “Yes.” The grey eyes were firm. “A hospital will report this. She’d be interviewed by social services, the plods and a million busybodies. With her uncle in the nick, too, they might take her away. We’ll deal with this quietly.”

  My kind of thinking, except I couldn’t imagine any doctor daring to inform on me or anyone stupid enough to take a kid—shit, I didn’t want to go there.

  I pushed the thought of Tina and our troubles away. Instead, I focused on the woman in the back of the car. I was impressed and actually found myself liking her a little. She was cool under pressure. There aren’t many women with that kind of discipline.

  The liking was minimal and purely temporary. When we pulled up at the girl’s house, two young men whipped the kid upstairs and I pulled the bruja aside.

  “My watch,” I reminded her. “Also, when you have time, I want you to consider an offer. I’ll buy that property you bought yesterday from you. Five per cent more than you paid.”

  She didn’t even pretend to think about it. “No thanks. I’m keeping it.”

  I thought she meant the property. “Think about it.”

  “Look, I appreciate what you’ve just done for me, but you put three people in hospital and that makes me an accessory.” She had it totally together. “If I give you your watch and anyone comes asking questions, you'll throw me to the wolves.”

  “Bruja mala leche!” You’ll understand I was upset. “First I’m a pervert, and now I’m a rat?”

  “Probably not, but I can’t take the risk.”

  “You’re going back on your word?”

  “I’m keeping my mouth shut. About everything. You’re free to go, but the watch is insurance. I’m not stupid, and I know what you’re capable of.”

  “Like killing you!” Which, I might add, I was dying to do.

  She was ice. “There’s no point in threatening me. Your watch is locked up tight, and the second I stop being around, the roof falls in on you and fifty other people.”

  “What fifty people?”

  “Like James Cortez, Paco Delgado, Lencho Del Puerto.” She reeled off the names. The unspeakable bitch had been checking up on me. On me! She gave me an evil look. “All of you are responsible for each other.”

  “Right, like you’re the first to try that. No dice. We can fix whatever it is you think you know, especially when you’re not there to provide live testimony.”

  “I thought of that, too,” she snapped back. “So you should know that I changed my will when I was divorcing. The second I kick the bucket, everything I own goes to the Save the Children Fund. That includes the kebab shop.”

  “What?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “You can’t be fucking serious!”

  “I am dead serious. Kill me and you’ll have to tackle an executive committee of a dozen bigwigs to get that property. Mind you, maybe their president can help you shortcut through the red tape. It’s the Princess Royal.”

  I should have shot the bitch the first time I met her.

  Chapter Six: Natalia

  When you run a pub, you quickly learn how to keep people under control. The punters call me Frosty because I’ve got my bitch act down pat, and thank God for that, because facing down a cartel member was the scariest damn thing I’d ever done in my life.

  When that bugger reached for my throat, I curbed my instinct to run and gave him my best basilisk stare. “Help me or I give you to Smith.” And then I told him that knocking me off would mean big trouble.

  Call me crazy, but when I’d decided to leave Frank, I had this feeling that he might top me. I reckoned that if I could stop him benefiting, I might feel safer, hence the leaving everything to charity.

  I never knew if it had any effect on Frank, but it sure did on the Zeta. He was white with rage, and for a second I thought he’d slaughter me on the spot. Zorra and hija de puta was the least of it.

  You could have knocked me down with a feather when he backed down, but I wasn’t taking chances. I could see he was dying to beat the fuck out of me, so I took his number and scarpered.

  I wanted to fall to pieces, but I acted like an ice queen because I had no choice. With Bobby in jail, the family was pretty much rudderless. Frank was drunk or high every day of the week, Roger couldn’t organise a piss-up in a brewery, and the rest were dickless. As the plods didn’t give a flying fuck, I knew that I was Delicia’s only hope, so I’d better get cracking.

  Apart from being a management school, a pub is information central. Honestly, get a few pints into those rough and tough Londoners, and they’ll insist on telling you (in utter confidence) that they’re scared their wives don’t fancy them anymore and that their wangs are slow to pump up and liable to deflate prematurely.

  I’ve no interest in that, but I’d also heard a million stories about who’d nicked a lorry load of tellies, who could fence stolen jewels, who knew how to break into a safe and other wild escapades. Now I was sorting through the shit I’d heard and looking for solutions. I decided that if I was to find Delicia, I needed to find Terry Chin.

  Thank God nerds seldom leave their nests! I found Terry at home, in bed I think, because he was wearing boxers, and his hair looked like a porcupine in a serious snit. “What time is it?” he grumbled. “What are you doing here, Frosty?”

  “Five hundred smackers if you hack into a phone for me.”

  That opened his eyes. “I’m all yours.”

  I gave him Sooty’s number. “I want his precise location. Also, I want to read all his texts.”

  It took twenty minutes to get to his phone, but his whereabouts were a mystery. “What you’re looking at are queued messages, the ones he’ll see when he switches on his phone,” Terry explained. “When it’s off, it’s invisible.”

  Sooty would rather hack off a hand than be out of touch. The man has a phone welded permanently to his ear. “Then he has a backup phone. Find it.”

  “That’s not easy. I have to hack into the billing system.”

  “Like you don’t phreak your bills every week! An extra hundred if you get results.”

  “On it!”

  While Terry hacked, I called everyone I could think of. “Have you seen Del
icia? If you do, call me or her mum.” I think I rang all of London, but nobody had seen her. I was wetting myself with fear for her. Worse, memories I’d successfully repressed for three years came flooding back.

  Fetid breath in my face.

  Hands ripping at my knickers.

  A sharp pain and the feel of blood dripping out of me.

  “Hey, Frosty!” Terry called me back into the present. “You okay? You’re white as a sheet, girl!”

  “Never mind me. Have you got it?”

  “Yes,” he said simply. “He’s in Aylesbury Estate.”

  Oh Christ. One of London’s biggest and nastiest slums. A hellhole of a rabbit warren with thousands of tiny flats, all infested with London’s scummiest lowlifes.

  “Can you narrow it down?”

  “Nope. It’s only accurate to 500 meters.”

  Fuck. I’d have to go there and scope the place out, a door-to-door that would take weeks. Unless. “Get me a list of Sooty’s contacts.”

  “It won’t give you addresses, just names and numbers.”

  “That’ll do.” When I had a printout in my hands, I felt better. I was going places. “Terry, for another hundred, I want you to do the same job on this number.” I gave him Enrique Ramas’ contact. “Watch out. This man’s bad news.”

  “Okay.” Terry was calculating. “You owe me a thousand quid.”

  “Seven hundred, bozo. Tomorrow morning. You know I’m good for it.”

  I blew out of there, and fifteen minutes later I was knocking on Madge’s door. She was Sooty’s wife and had visited the pub from time to time, so I thought I had a chance with her.

  “Madge, I need your help.”

  She didn’t like the story I told her, but she wasn’t surprised. “Sooty’s got a mean streak,” she sighed, “but this is over the line, it really is. It’s the booze, love. And the drugs. It’s warped him.”

  Stifling the urge to say I’d warp him when I got my hands on him, I got out the list. “Can you look at these names and tell me who lives on Aylesbury Estate?”

  She picked out three, and I was on the blower right away, asking, “Is Sooty there?” and getting nowhere.