Ernesto laughed. “So, no one would even notice if you disappeared?”
The girls all laughed. Amy said, “No, I guess not.”
Eventually, the bartender announced last call. Lily looked at her phone. “Wow, it’s already 1:30 am. We need to get back.”
Rafael said, “No, no come out with us. We’re going to a party at our friend’s. No last call there.”
Rachel said, “No, we really should leave. I have class tomorrow.”
Ernesto offered, “Call an Uber. We can wait with you.”
Amy shook her head. “No, we really shouldn’t. We should stick together.”
Lily waved her away, her hand flopping around drunkenly. “I’m fine. I’m only going to go for like one drink and then I’ll Uber home too.”
Amy shook her head again. “I don’t know Lil.”
Lily waved her off again. “Trust me. I’m fine.”
Outside, they waited for two separate Uber drivers to pull up. The first driver pulled up for Amy and Rachel. The girls all hugged and got in the car. The car drove away.
A second one pulled up with a Nicaraguan flag hanging from the rearview mirror. Rafael, Ernesto, and Lily got in the back of the car.
They rolled through downtown DC with the driver speaking.
Rafael kept the conversation going. “So, what does your dad do in the Senate?”
Lily shook her head. Her speech was slurred and slow. “I don’t know. He’s always talking about gangs. Some gang. MG or MSG or something.”
Ernesto offered, “MS-13?”
Lily slapped him on the arm with a limp hand. “That’s it. MS-13. He says they’re real bad guys.”
Rafael shook his head. “I hate those guys. Truly evil.”
Lily nodded along.
Rafael asked, “Does he ever talk about Los Sandinistas Revenge?”
Lily wrinkled her eyebrows. “Who?”
Ernesto said, “Los Sandinistas Revenge. They call themselves LSR-32.”
Lily shook her head. Her last drink was starting to hit her, hard.
Rafael seemed surprised. “Really? It’s Spanish for ‘Los Sandinistas Revenge”. They say they’re even worse than MS-13.”
Lily oohed. “Wow. There’s some really bad dudes out there, huh?”
Rafael nodded. “I’m surprised your dad hasn’t mentioned them. There’s a FBI investigation that’s been really messing with their operations. Some senator got them started.”
Lily shrugged. “That’s what he does or whatever. You know, like, his passion. He’s really into it.”
Ernesto said, “Well, you got to be careful. A senator’s daughter might attract some bad dudes.” He said without irony. “You know how to spot one, right?”
Lily shook her head.
Ernesto lifted his shirt. His body was mural of dozens of a tattoos. In the center of his chest was a tattoo that looked like the flag Nicaraguan dangling from the rearview mirror. Instead of the pictures decorating the center of the pyramid, there was a large 32. “They have tattoos like this,” he said.
Rafael pulled up his shirt and showed her his back. “LSR-32” was tattooed across his shoulder blades. “Or like this.”
Lily seemed to sober up instantly. “If these LSR-32 guys have these tattoos, then why do you guys have them?”
A block later he pulled over. A young, dark, Hispanic man in long red basketball shorts, a white t-shirt, and a pair of red and white Nike Cortez sneakers stood at the curb.
The drive leaned over and opened the door. The young man slid into the front seat. “So let’s get this party started.” He gave a wicked laugh.
The driver pushed a button and locked the doors. Then, he engaged the child lock so they couldn’t be opened from the inside.
Lily tried to scream, but the bag was being jerked over her head.
“¡Bienvenido a la pandilla, puta!” The man in the front seat laughed. “Welcome to the gang you whore.”
* * *
Senator Marshall Kirkpatrick was never the first person to get to his office. No matter how early he got there, his chief of staff got there first. Chief of Staff Ellen Klein was at her desk when he walked in. He could hear the coffeemaker was already percolating. She smiled and waved.
The Senator waved back on his way to his office. “Morning, Ellen. Do you have the briefing on…?”
“On the LSR-32 gang? Already on your desk.”
Kirkpatrick didn’t even slow down. “They call themselves Los Sandinistas Revenge. You know these guys always think too highly of themselves. Bring me a cup of that when it’s done, will you?”
“Sure thing.”
Senator Kirkpatrick swept into his office but he left the door open. He picked up a binder sitting on his desk. The report was delivered to his tablet on his classified email, but he liked hard copies. He could read through them, the pages dog-ear corners, and go back a lot more quicker. He could highlight and write notes in the margins. You just can’t replace the feel of real paper.
He flipped through the pages. It was mostly stuff he already knew. The day after Christmas in 1932, the last group of the American occupying force fought the last battle of the occupation. The day the Marines load the ship to return to the States, some twenty men deserted, choosing to stay in Nicaragua with the women they had grown attached to. However, being armed and unwilling to settle down to a life of farming, chose to raid Portuguese settlements, murdering, raping and stealing everything they could carry away. The worst of the worst made their way up to San Pedro Sula. They settled in the hills outside the city. The government was weak and they soon control large parts of the country and its criminal activity.
In the 1970s and 1980s, a group of undocumented immigrants from Nicaragua in California started calling themselves “LSR-32” in honor of their “ancestors”. They liked the idea of rebelling against the powers that be like their deserter forefathers. A lot of them were deported in the 1990s, but the gang was growing. It was popular in California, New York, Texas, Mexico, and throughout Central America. They could be as big as MS-13 in a few years.
All signs pointed to a gang war brewing between them, MS-13, and the 18th Street Gang. The Senator was determined to stop that.
Feeling pretty confident that there was nothing particularly new or enlightening in the briefing, he picked up his TV remote, to catch the morning news. As always, it was on some cable news channel. This time it was Fox News.
His chief of staff burst into the room. Tears ran freely down her face, fogging up her glasses. “Turn that off,” she screamed.
Kirkpatrick started. “What?”
His phone started ringing. “Marsh, the FBI is here.” His wife burst into sobbing.
He looked at the TV. The blazing red chyron across the bottom of the screen read “Senator’s Daughter Found Dismembered in Suspected Gang Warning.”
About the Author
Micheal Maxwell has traveled the globe on the lookout for strange sights, sounds, and people. His adventures have taken him from the Jungles of Ecuador and the Philippines to the top of the Eiffel Tower and the Golden Gate Bridge, and from the cave dwellings of Native Americans to The Kehlsteinhaus, Hitler’s Eagles Nest! He’s always looking for a story to tell and interesting people to meet.
Micheal Maxwell was taught the beauty and majesty of the English language by Bob Dylan, Robertson Davies, Charles Dickens, and Leonard Cohen.
Mr. Maxwell has dined with politicians, rock stars and beggars. He has rubbed shoulders with priests and murderers, surgeons and drug dealers, each one giving him a part of themselves that will live again in the pages of his books.
Micheal Maxwell has found a niche in the mystery, suspense, genre with The Cole Sage Series that gives readers an everyman hero, short on vices, long on compassion, and a sense of fair play, and the willingness to risk everything to right wrongs. The Cole Sage Series departs from the usual, heavily sexual, profanity-laced norm and gives readers character-driven stories, with twists, turns, and pa
ge-turning plot lines.
Micheal Maxwell writes from a life of love, music, film, and literature. Along with his lovely wife and travel partner, Janet, divide their time between a small town in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California, and their lake home in Washington State.
Also by Micheal Maxwell
THE TIME PEDALER SERIES
The Time Pedaler
The Time Pedaler: Day Tripper
The Time Pedaler: Time Has Come Today
The Time Pedaler: Time Won’t Let Me
THE LOGAN CONNOR SERIES
Clean Cut Kid: Book #1 (A Logan Connor Thriller)
East of the Jordan: Book #2 (A Logan Connor Thriller)
Tales of Yankee Power: Book #3 (A Logan Connor Thriller)
THE COLE SAGE SERIES
Diamonds and Cole (Cole Sage Mystery #1)
Cellar of Cole (Cole Sage Mystery #2)
Helix of Cole (Cole Sage Mystery #3)
Cole Dust (Cole Sage Mystery #4)
Cole Shoot (Cole Sage Mystery #5)
Cole Fire (Cole Sage Mystery #6)
Heart of Cole (Cole Sage Mystery #7)
Cole Mine (Cole Sage Mystery #8)
Soul of Cole (Cole Sage Mystery #9)
Cole Cuts (Cole Sage Mystery #10)
THE ADAM DUPREE SERIES
Dupree’s Rebirth: Book #1 (An Adam Dupree Novel)
Dupree’s Reward: Book #2 (An Adam Dupree Novel)
Dupree’s Resolve: Book #3 (An Adam Dupree Novel)
FLYNT & STEELE MYSTERIES
Dead Beat: Book #1 (A Flynt & Steel Mystery)
Dead Duck: Book #2 (A Flynt & Steel Mystery)
Dead on Arrival: Book #3 (A Flynt & Steel Mystery)
Dead Hand: Book #4 (A Flynt & Steel Mystery)
OTHER WORKS
The First Chapter: The Collected Short Stories and First Novel: The Whistler 1964-2017
Three Nails: (A Tale of Tragedy, Testing and Triumph)
East of the Jordan (A Logan Connor Thriller Book 2) Page 17