Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
Emiliano
D ante Luciano, the consigliere of Kansas City, was the first to step from the cabin of the private aircraft. Ducking his head at the opening, he then stood erect at the top of the platform and scanned the illuminated tarmac. His dark stare settled on Papá and me. A single nod was our greeting as he climbed down the stairs. There was no doubt that his sports coat concealed at least one holster with a gun. I’d say two if I was a betting man. There were most likely a few knives beneath his blue jeans. A parade of men dressed in black and carrying duffel bags followed in his wake.
The convenient thing about private air travel was the ability to carry weapons of all sizes across state lines. Judging from the bags over the men’s shoulders, they were in possession of multiple weapons, including long guns.
Dante extended his hand first to Papá, his father-in-law. “Camila and Catalina are safe.”
Papá shook his hand and nodded. “That’s reassuring to hear.”
“Thank you for heeding Jano’s call,” I said, also shaking his hand.
“Ju familia es nuestra familia ,” he said with a grin. “Camila has been trying to teach me. I’m trying but not the fastest of learners.”
“You’ll ride with me,” Papá said. “We have four vehicles to drive all of you to Jano’s home. I believe Silas has arranged vehicles for you to drive.”
Dante nodded.
The entire drive back to el Patr?n’s home, my mind was filled with questions about my own father—questions I never imagined entertaining. When he told Dante to ride with him, I almost intervened. Then I recalled what he said about Silas speaking to me privately. I was certain that if I insisted on driving Dante, I’d upset my papá. Instead, I was transporting Piero, a guard I knew. He was Jasmine’s bodyguard before she married Rei. In the back seat were Lorenzo and Adrian. If I’d met the last two before, they hadn’t left a lasting impression. There was, however, an incident with Piero having to do with Jasmine and me in the capo’s theater room that I hoped wouldn’t be spoken of during this trip.
I spoke to Piero, “Silas, Jano’s head of security, texted me. He has beds for the ten of you in the back of Wanderland.”
“Strip club?”
“Private club. Dante explained that you’ll sleep in shifts. The room was renovated when Jano moved the women out of the club to the apartments.” I shrugged. “It’s more of a barracks or dorm when it’s needed.”
“Not used by customers?”
I chuckled. “No. Backup space. You never know when you’ll have to put up soldiers or even women new to the club. Currently, it’s empty. The space has a couple of bathrooms and a kitchen area. I wouldn’t call it the Ritz, but you’ll be comfortable.”
Piero nodded as he watched the passing scenes through the windshield. The closer we came to the ocean, the darker the sky grew, going from a navy blue to a velvet black. Streetlights created circles of illumination, and palm trees swayed in the breeze. The tension built as Piero asked about what went down with Kozlov.
“Why did Volkov take him out?” I asked rhetorically. “We don’t have an answer. Only, we’re damn sure Volkov’s men aren’t getting close to the Roríguez cartel.”
“How do you plan to accomplish that? Someone’s men got to the last el Patr?n .”
The muscles in my jaw pulled taut. “Mistakes were made. Jorge was left with a skeleton crew of guards.”
He lowered his voice. “I find it difficult to believe that he didn’t have an escape plan.”
“He did. He wasn’t notified in time.”
“Was his body identified?”
With each of his questions, my grip of the steering wheel tightened. “I suggest that neither el Patr?n nor Rei hear you ask about their father’s execution. It’s something they both live with every minute of every day.”
Piero lifted his palm. “No offense intended. I heard a rumor that Jorge was only identified by partial dental records. His face was gone.”
I’d seen the pictures that Jano only allowed a few people to see. The scene on the Bella was gruesome. The occupants present on the superyacht were made to kneel on the helipad with their hands bound. One by one they were shot in the back of their heads. Jorge’s gold watch was still on his wrist, and his recognizable body with his customary linen shirt and pants was crumpled forward.
We don’t believe the terrorists were there to steal or plunder. Their one mission was assassinating members of the Roríguez cartel. However, that was our theory. To date, neither Jano nor Rei had received any pertinent information regarding what remained on Bella. The government seized it all, from Josefina’s jewelry to the furniture and kitchenware. The number of dinghies remaining was still a mystery. If anyone had made it off the yacht on one of the small dinghies, they hadn’t contacted Jano or Rei.
“Jano and Rei identified their father from the photographs. To think otherwise after six months would be ludicrous.”
Thankfully, Piero dropped the subject as we approached Jano’s home. We were following behind Papá’s car as Silas manually allowed the gate to remain open to allow all four vehicles to enter. As we got out of our cars, Jano and Rei appeared from the front door.
“Thank you, my brother,” Jano said, shaking Dante’s hand. He turned to everyone who had recently arrived. “ Es hora de que nos vayamos . Dante will ride with me and Rei to the warehouse. I’ll speak to everyone at once. That way there will be no miscommunication.”
“Gentlemen,” Silas said. “Your vehicles are at the warehouse. Vamos .”
“Who’s protecting el Patr?n’s home with most of his men at the warehouse?” Piero asked.
We watched as Horace, Jose, and Felipe exited vehicles, to be replaced by other soldiers. “Those men are the inside guards. Silas has this property protected layer after layer.”
Piero nodded.
Once through the gate, I headed south, varying my route to avoid appearing like a parade to announce our intent. The closer I came to the warehouse, the more the scenes beyond our windows transformed from palm trees, flowering bushes, and gated homes to cracked streets, concrete walls, and graffiti. The streetlights that worked illuminated sidewalks littered with trash and weeds the size of bushes pushing through the cracks.
The other occupants of my vehicle remained silent as I pulled up to an inconspicuous gate. After entering a code, the gate moved, and I drove us onto the cartel’s grounds. Dust stirred up from the gravel road surrounded the car in a cloud. Finally, I reached the warehouse that seconded as a safe house. The large garage door was open, and the area filled with more cars than had been at Jano’s earlier in the evening. I pulled in, parking beside my papá’s SUV.
The building reverberated with the sound of formidable men climbing the metal steps. Jano, Rei, Dante, and Silas were nearly to the top, followed by other soldiers on their way to the safe house stories above. The door above was guarded but would quickly open for el Patr?n .
By the time my occupants and I made it to the stairs, jefe was inside. More of the famiglia soldiers followed. Once the last man entered the large room at the top, the guard closed the door, proceeded by the clicks as a series of locks engaged. The room was filled with picnic tables. There was enough space for over a hundred men. While not all the seats were filled, when I added the dozens of soldiers standing around the perimeter of the room, the count was close to one hundred, if not over.
The soldiers’ expressions were unreadable as Jano stood to speak. The prelude of his speech was in Spanish, a reassuring gesture to the cartel members that he was responsible for each man here as well as families they have at home. He expounded upon his praises for the Roríguez cartel, our accomplishments, our alliance with the famiglia, and our future. As if a switch was turned, his volume rose, his expression darkened, and his words came faster.
“What happened between the bratvas, what Volkov did to Kozlov and his family,” Jano emphasized, “is nothing short of terrorism. Terrorism funded by Herrera.” His tenor hardened. “We now have reason to believe Volkov was responsible for carrying out Herrera’s extermination of mí padre .”
The room filled with mumbling.
Jano lifted his hand. “The attack on Kozlov was too similar to what happened on Bella for it not to have been carried out by the same soldiers, or soldiers with the same training. It’s clear Volkov is working for Herrera. We’re leveling the playing field.” He changed to English. “Dante Luciano brought me evidence of a large deposit of money into Volkov’s offshore account.” He patted Dante on the shoulder. “Our alliance with the Luciano family is and will remain strong. Dante has brought ten famiglia soldiers and promised more.” He looked at Dante.
Dante nodded.
Jano continued, “I will let Mr. Luciano tell you what else the famiglia has arranged. As the consigliere and my wife’s brother, listen to him.”
Nick nudged me with his elbow. “What the fuck?”
I shrugged, completely unsure what Dante would say.
Dante stepped forward. “The success of the Roríguez cartel is the success of the Luciano famiglia. In the last six months, the Myshkin bratva and now the Kozlov bratva were brought down by the assassination of their leaders. Elizondro Herrera is using the unrest in the bratvas to his benefit.” Dante spoke louder. “When the Roríguez cartel was hit with tragedy, you did not crumble.”
All the eyes in the room were on Dante.
“You didn’t fall. You didn’t split or rush to Herrera. That is what he wanted. That was what he expected. Your strength is in your solidarity, and in the famiglia’s solidarity with you.”
Shoulders straightened and chests inflated around the room.
“Our capo dei capi, my brother, has been cultivating a relationship with Andros Ivanov, the pakhan of the bratva in Detroit.”
Murmurs filled the air as Nick and I exchanged glances.
Dante shook his head. “Our country—no, the world—is watching. Ivanov sees the possibility of increasing his reach, his kingdom, so to speak.”
I turned to Nick. “Is he saying Ivanov will help us?”
Dante’s voice filled the air. “When we work together to take out Volkov and Herrera, the Roríguez cartel, the Luciano famiglia, and the Ivanov bratva will all be the richer and stronger.”
Dante looked my direction. No, he wasn’t looking at me, but at Adrian, one of the soldiers I’d driven from the plane.
Adrian stepped forward. “I am Adrian.”
Hearing his Eastern European accent, I realized I’d never before heard him speak.
“Sovietnik of the Ivanov bratva. Andros Ivanov sent me here with the famiglia to demonstrate our willingness to aid in this war. We have two planes on their way with more guns and ammunition. This war will end and when it does, as Luciano said, we will all be victorious.”
Jano stepped forward. “Who in this room is willing to die for the Roríguez cartel? Levantese. ”
Throughout the room, soldiers stood, pledging their allegiance.
My gaze went to my father.
Would he refuse?
Relief washed through me as he too stood.
“Tonight,” Jano said, “resume your regular duties and patrols. Tomorrow, each captain will meet with our lieutenants. Tonight, we have Nicolas, Andres, Em, and Nick in attendance. You will meet with them wherever they tell you to be. Security is essential.” Jano laid his fist on his chest. “You have my word. If you fuck with Roríguez, I will watch you die.”
“Did we just get promoted?” Nick whispered.
“Fuck, I think we did.”