Chapter 7 #2
The one they called Angel squirmed a lot. His eyes constantly darted around the room, as if looking for a way to escape. He was dripping with sweat, a permanent mask of unease and nervousness on his face.
He was the weak link. My way in.
Nik watched too, brows creased in concentration. “Their dynamic is strange. The woman seems to be in charge of them. And yet she knew nothing about what was going on, what the men were doing? How is that possible?”
Pieces clicked together in my mind like a jigsaw puzzle. “When I found her, she was chained. She claimed she was an escort and Nero had bought her for the night, but I don’t think she was there by choice. Nero was holding her captive.”
“Okay?” Nik could see the wheels turning in my head. “You think she’s someone important to the cartel? That Nero was holding her hostage as leverage or something?”
“Considering his history, it makes sense. Do you remember what Miguel said when Father interrogated him after the first time they tried to kidnap Illayana? That they did it to keep Father in line? To keep him from interfering between the Outfit and The Cosa Nostra? What if Nero did the same shit to the cartel? Kidnapped someone important to the boss so he’d do whatever the fuck Nero wanted to keep them safe? ”
Nik nodded. “It definitely fits with Nero’s tactics.”
“So, we just need to figure out who she is.” That was easier said than done, though. So far, she’d been more than unwilling to share that information, and I had a feeling she’d take it to her grave.
An idea formed in my head. I pulled out my phone and called Thomas.
He was one of our contacts at the LVPD (Las Vegas Police Department).
We paid him five grand a month to be our eyes and ears within the department.
To provide us with information about anyone we asked—names, addresses, social security numbers, you name it—and to cover for us when needed.
Like when our house got blown to shit at Illayana’s wedding.
Even though our closest neighbours were miles away, the massive explosion and all the gunfire that followed had people calling the police. Thomas, as well as a few others, had covered for us, reporting no disturbance.
It was always smart to have people in the police department who were on your side.
Not only did they help out with situations like that, but they also got rid of any incriminating evidence that could bury us.
They let us know any time the police were getting a little too close to home, helping us steer them in a different direction.
“Yeah?” Thomas answered, his voice laced with a deep Boston accent.
“I need you to come to the house.”
He sighed. “When?”
“Now.”
“I can’t. I’m on shift.”
“You’ve got thirty minutes. Bring your fingerprint scanner.” I hung up, not giving him a chance to protest.
At five grand a month, I didn’t give a shit if he was busy. If I called and demanded his presence, he bloody well better show up.
“What’s your plan?” Nik asked, logging out of the camera feed system. He spun in his chair to face me.
“I’m going to scan her prints and find out who she is.” I was confident a feisty, hardass woman like her had to have some kind of record, and it would tell me everything I needed to know about her.
That curious expression I saw last night crossed Nik’s face again. It aggravated me.
“What?” I snapped.
“Why bother with the scanner? I’m sure you could make her talk without it. You’ve made grown men fucking piss their pants and tell you anything you wanted to hear.”
True. And I enjoyed every second of it. But I had a feeling those tactics wouldn’t work on Firecracker. She was tough as shit. Absolutely fearless. I didn’t think there was any amount of pain I could put her through that would make her talk.
But that wasn’t the main reason.
“If our theory is right and it turns out the Zetas were only doing Nero’s dirty work because they didn’t have a choice, because of her , we need to tread carefully.
Us torturing and killing her could cause more problems than it solves, and with Grandfather coming, the last thing we need is more trouble. ”
Nik had been tapping his finger idly on the table as I spoke, his gaze watching the movement, but at the mention of Grandfather his head snapped up, a deep frown on his face. “What? Grandfather, coming here? When?”
“Two weeks. And we need to get everything ready for his arrival. The sooner we sort out not only this shit with the Zetas, but also the crap with Dominik and Rayna, the better. Before he gets here would be ideal.”
Nik nodded. “What do you need me to do?”
“What you’re already doing. Find Dominik and Rayna. As soon as you have a location, let me know.”
Firm lines of determination set on his face. “Will do.”
“And keep an eye on that idiot brother of ours. Make sure he does as Father has asked. Father is stressed, and he doesn’t need the added hassle of double-checking Lukyan's work.”
It’s not like Lukyan was bad at his job.
It was actually the complete opposite. When he put his mind to it, he was capable of doing great things.
But that was the problem. He rarely put his mind to anything unless absolutely necessary, and he had a tendency to be lax with his responsibilities. Not that he had many to start with.
“Got it.” Nik got to his feet. “I’ll also see what I can dig up on the Los Zetas. I know the last time we tried to get information on them we couldn’t find anything on their boss, but who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky.”
I doubted it. The identity of the boss of the Los Zetas was some kind of well-kept secret within their organisation.
The man we knew who used to be in charge before he died of cancer four years ago was Andres (or El Diablo, as he liked to be called).
But the identity of the man who had taken his place had been a mystery to us ever since.
We knew of their second—Juan—as confirmed by Miguel before we killed him. But that was it.
“Alright, keep me informed.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, brother.”