Chapter 5
HELLO HOLLYWOOD, HELLO NAOMI
TEDDY
After ninety minutes of focused target practice at the outdoor range, Teddy felt invigorated. Greystone was right. He’d take one evening to hang with Sydney, then back to the grind. Haqazzii and his soldiers weren’t going anywhere.
He stopped at home to secure his weapon’s bag in his safe before continuing on to Santini Ristorante.
The second he entered the building, the tension melted away.
Here, Tank was the friendly, hardworking GM of an upscale, family-owned Italian eatery tucked into a prime location in Old Town, Alexandria.
Formerly the hub for illegal activities of the Santini crime family, he and his brothers had turned the business into one of the area’s most popular restaurants.
At 5:10 pm, the place was already humming with the first seating. Teddy loved seeing a packed dining room.
Tara made her way over. “Hey, boss.”
“Everything work out for you?”
“All good.” She stepped close. “Thank you again. I’m all moved into my new apartment.”
“Congrats.” He glanced around. “What’s going on here?”
She smiled. “It’s a first, but we had no call outs. Full kitchen and wait staff.” She pretended to wipe her brow with the back of her hand. “Whew, right?”
“Nice. Are we booked?”
“All three seatings,” she replied.
The front door opened, a lone man entered. When he saw Tara, he flashed a smile. “Hey, baby.”
Tara beamed. “Hi, Hollywood.”
“Is my table ready, love?” he asked.
Tara glanced furtively at Teddy. “This is Tank. Tank, this is my boyfriend, Hollywood.”
“How’s it goin’?” Teddy asked.
Hollywood had spiked, jet-black hair with bright blond tips. His face was covered in a well-manicured dark beard and mustache. Framing his eyes were brilliant blue glasses. His suit matched his dark hair, his shirt matched his blue-rimmed glasses.
He looked like he’d put too much thought into… well… into everything.
“Tank, my man, good to meetcha.”
With a cheesy grin, Hollywood pumped his hand a little too hard and way too long. Teddy was waiting to hear a slick sales pitch for a used car.
“Mr. Santini, I hope it’s okay, I’ve been seating Hollywood at the owner’s table,” Tara said as a group of women bustled in, their conversations temporarily hijacking Teddy’s attention.
“No, Tara, it’s not okay,” Teddy pushed back.
“Seriously?” Hollywood said. “It sits empty most nights.”
Teddy lifted a bunch of menus, shifted toward the party of women. “Welcome to Santini Ristorante. Do you have a res?”
“Ohgod, hello,” bleated one of the women before giving them the name of their party.
Rather than ask Tara to seat them, he eyed the electronic seating chart. At first glance, he couldn’t see where a group of eight would fit.
“Tara,” he called out.
She hurried over, stared at the backlit seating chart, then pointed to their reservation. The group was forty-five minutes early.
“Ladies, you’re in luck,” Teddy said. “The owner’s booth is available.”
“That’s even better,” said one of the women. “This is the first leg of our bachelorette party.”
“I can seat you.” He glanced back at Tara. “We’ll talk after you seat your friend.”
“Yes, sir.”
Teddy led the group toward the owner’s horseshoe booth tucked in the back corner of the main dining room. After seating the first six, he pulled over two chairs for the remaining two.
“This is pretty tight,” said one of the women.
“Your res isn’t for another forty-five,” Teddy said. “You can get started here, or wait at the bar for your table to open.”
“I’ll sit at the bar,” volunteered one, “if you can join me for a drink.” She grinned up at him. “What’s your name?”
“Tank Santini. I’m the GM.”
“Hello, GM,” said the first woman. “We’ll stay here. Maybe you can check on us.” She puckered her lips before blowing him an air kiss.
He shot the group a smile, and a collective sigh floated his way. He was aware that the Santini brothers were blessed with good looks. It was what it was.
“We’re headed to Lost Souls after,” one of them said. “But we’re changing first.”
“We should have come here dressed in our Halloween costumes,” said another.
“What’s it gonna be?” Teddy eyed the crowd forming at front of house.
“We’ll each take one of you.”
Teddy chuffed out a laugh. “I’m not on the menu.”
“My night is ruined.”
“Are you staying here or waiting in the bar?” Teddy pressed them.
“We’re good. Thank you, Tank.”
“Have a great time.” He caught the eye of their server who intercepted him as he made his way toward the hostess stand.
“Are they friends of yours, Mr. Santini?”
“No, so no comping. It’s a bachelorette party.”
“Got it,” the server said before making his way toward the gaggle of women.
On his way back to the hostess station, Teddy spotted Hollywood perched on a stool at the bar chatting with the couple next to him.
Once back at front of house, Tara said, “Sorry about Hollywood. I won’t seat him in your booth again.”
Teddy glanced toward her boyfriend, but he wasn’t at the bar. One quick search found Hollywood chatting it up with the women at the bachelorette party.
The guy gets around.
“Looks like Hollywood’s having himself a good time,” Teddy said.
Tara followed his gaze. “He’s a recruiter, and he loves meeting new people.”
Not at my restaurant.
Soliciting his customers was a hard stop.
“Tara, he can’t be doing that here,” Teddy said.
“He’s just talking to them.”
Teddy shook his head. “No,” was all he said before he made his way through the restaurant, his eyes trained on his target.
As he approached the booth, the women jumped their gazes from Hollywood to him.
“You did come back!” squealed one of the women.
“We gotta get a pic with him,” said another.
The server returned with a round of drinks, and Teddy said to Hollywood, “Let’s go talk.”
“Sure, dude, no problem.”
Back at the bar, the guy slid onto his stool.
“Tara said you’re a recruiter,” Teddy began.
Hollywood pasted on a grin. “Yup, sure am. You’re a good-looking guy. You got a harem following you around?”
Ignoring the small talk, Teddy said, “Don’t solicit my customers.”
“Whaaaaa?” Hollywood whined. “Talking to people is what I do, my true calling. My company helps people make the big bucks. You wanna know how?”
“No.”
“I’ll tell ya,” Hollywood continued. “By serving others. My independent contractors can WFH—work from home. By setting their own hours, they control their income. I also—”
“Leave. My. Customers. Alone,” Teddy said, cutting him off. “Inteso?”
“Huh?”
“It’s Italian,” Teddy said. “It means, ‘Got it?’”
“Sure, my man. No problem.”
“Enjoy your dinner.” Teddy eyed the front of house, but Tara had the situation well under control, so he took off toward his office. He did payroll, then checked next week’s schedule. When finished, he made his way toward the bar and ordered himself dinner.
Hollywood was gone, the women at the owner’s table were enjoying their entrees. One of them caught his gaze and forced the others out of the horseshoe-shaped booth. With her attention cemented on his, she beelined over.
“Hi,” she said, her cheeks flushing bright red.
“How’s the party?” he asked.
“It’s fun. I’d love to see you. Maybe coffee or a drink sometime?”
Sydney flashed in his mind. Two kisses, and she’d already started to take hold. Truth was, she’d worked her magic on him months ago.
“Helloooooo,” said the woman. “Drinks sometime?”
“Sorry, I can’t.”
“Lemme give you my number, in case you change your mind.”
“Yeah, so, now’s kinda crazy for me.”
She reached into her small bag, pulled out a business card. “Text me, if you change your mind.” He took the card. She shot him a sweet smile before marching back to her table.
Teddy checked in with his head chef before returning to his office.
Once behind the closed door, he trashed her card, unlocked the supply closet, and extracted his laptop.
Back at his desk, he logged in, navigated his way into the Dark Web, and began scanning for messages in the private anti-American chat rooms.
C’mon assholes, give me something.
As he scrolled, he searched for a coded message, where the Haqazzii terrorists were hiding out, where they might be striking next. While a lot of these thugs sent texts directly from their burners, these radicals didn’t. Their cryptic messages were hard to decipher, but not impossible.
Though Teddy was mostly self-taught, he’d learned a lot from master hacker Stryker Truman. Never one to boast, Teddy knew his skills were dope. As he was skimming and scrolling, a message caught his eye.
The raptors are back. The nest is full.
There was a response.
Blessed be those who avenge the wicked.
And another comment.
We will overtake and watch them fall one by one.
Target one is marked for death.
Anger ripped through him, and Teddy released a long, low growl. He screen-shot the messages, dropped them into the ALPHA portal with an email to his team.
“We have GOT to WATCH OUR BACKS,” he typed. “Meeting Nov 1, 8:30 am. If you can’t make it, text me.”
Knock-knock.
Teddy closed the laptop, opened the door.
“Mr. Santini, your dinner,” said the server.
Teddy took the tray, shut the door. Back at his desk, he re-read the cryptic messages.
They’re back in the DMV.
As Teddy ate the perfectly-seasoned chicken parm, he opened the BLACK OPS text thread on his phone and sent a message to his team.
Check portal for update
Once he finished his dinner, he logged out, locked the computer in his closet, and strode out of his office. In the kitchen, he set the tray next to the sink.
“Chef, il pollo alla parmigiana era perfetto. The chicken parm was perfect.”
“Eccellente, Signor Santini,” she replied. “Let me get you tonight’s dessert special, four mini-samples. Sì?”
Teddy’s sweet tooth kicked into high gear. “Hell, yeah.” He moved out of the way while she set the small desserts on a plate.
His phone started buzzing and binging with texts from his team.
From Hawk.
Here we go baby
From Addison.
This is bad, but we got this
From Sin.