Chapter 13
Hudson
Cartel gang members.
In my mind they were the scourge of the earth.
Their intimidation tactics were legendary.
Men in slick suits pretending they were of some importance when at the end of the day, they were nothing more than cogs in a wheel.
If Luis Delgado deemed any of them disloyal, their body parts would be sent in separate packages to their loved ones.
Yet they liked to play vicious games, acting as if they owned the city.
I’d had more than one pay a visit to my courtroom, pretending as if spending a few years in prison would garner them a badge of honor.
Very few had ever rolled over on Delgado and those who did never made it into any courtroom.
That’s why Delgado had never found himself in front of my bench.
Seeing the four men, it was apparent that the Undertaker was smartly laying low.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t issuing orders, which was obvious since they’d taken up camp inside the diner.
They never issued more than one official warning and that’s exactly what I was taking their sudden appearance as being.
Now I had no doubt the Undertaker had plans on exterminating all those who’d had anything to do with his capture and incarceration.
What continued to linger like the stench of rotting garbage in the back of my mind were aspects of my conversation with Chase.
She was the right age and type to fetch an extraordinary price on the sex trade market.
That would be the perfect way of removing any possibility of her testifying again while leaving no trace evidence.
When Valentina returned to the kitchen, I got off the stool, buttoning my jacket so the fuckers wouldn’t see my shoulder holster, and headed directly by their table toward the restrooms in the back.
They didn’t pay any attention to me, which was good for them and the owners of the diner.
I’d hate to paint the walls red, making them have to spend any money.
Once inside, I pulled out my phone dialing Chase. Tonight I’d need some assistance.
“Hey, buddy. Two times in one day,” Chase said, half laughing.
“I need your help on a little mission.”
“What’s going on?”
“Well, there are four of Delgado’s slimebags harassing Ms. Sciascia in her place of business.” I returned to the door, opening a crack to ensure I hadn’t been followed. The four assholes were laughing. Good. The cockroaches needed to stay right where they were.
“That was quick. That must mean the Undertaker and perhaps Delgado himself is nervous.”
Standing back, I leaned against the sink. “Whatever is going on with the Colombians, my gut tells me Delgado is worried it will place him in the crosshairs of the DEA.” Maybe for more than just drugs and weapons.
“If you’re right, he will have already commanded Jacob Jones and the men under him to remove anyone who could stand in their way. What do you need?”
“A shadow for when Ms. Sciascia picks up her kid from a babysitter. She’s been directed to return to my house and I need to make certain that happens.”
“What does that mean you’re going to do?”
With a smile on my face, I glanced into the mirror. My reflection appeared entirely different. Maybe that was good because tonight I wasn’t Judge Armstrong. I was simply a man determined to fight crime any way necessary. “Take care of business.”
“Be careful. You could start an entirely different kind of war,” Chase advised.
“I know and I’m always careful.” I slipped the phone into my pocket and headed back to my seat, slowing down as I passed by their table just as Valentina was delivering their food.
Being a keen observer certainly had its benefits, especially in circumstances such as this. Before she even made it to the table, I’d noticed where they kept their weapons. While they’d tried to conceal their heavy artillery, the slick tailored suits prevented them from doing so.
Making mental note, I passed behind her, thankful she barely gave me a glance. I was just some dude drinking coffee in a shitty diner close to midnight.
“Sweet Valentina. Why don’t you consider coming home with us tonight?”
The man’s voice and his guttural accent made my skin crawl. Unable to help myself, I stopped walking, tipping my head to see if he dared cross a line. He had. With his hand placed on her thigh as she was trying to place food in front of them, I was already at the point of no return.
“I suggest you take your hand off the lady.” I made the statement quietly with no anger, no inflection.
“And I suggest you mind your own goddamn business,” he answered, flipping me a hate-filled look. As he lowered his gaze, I knew he was assessing whether I’d be an issue for them.
The way he glanced at his buddies meant they underestimated my abilities. Something that would change in time.
“It’s okay,” Valentina offered. “These fine gentlemen just never learned manners. They’re more like Neanderthals than men. Don’t worry. I can handle them.”
“Ooohhh…” one of the jerks said.
Laugh it up, buddy. You won’t be able to do that for long.
She all but dropped the last plate, spilling a few fries on the lap of one man sitting closest to the window. While I admired her spunk, I’d need to remind her that challenging them with any behavioral tic or inflammatory words would only draw more attention.
And more of their desire. That much was clear in their eyes. I sensed exactly what they had plans to do with her before ending her life or shipping her away.
Perhaps on a stolen cargo ship. Maybe Delgado had made an entirely different deal with the Colombians. Drugs in exchange for fresh female meat.
That wasn’t going to happen.
She backed away with a flip of her head and didn’t look back.
They laughed as if it was all a joke. I gave each one of them a hard look before returning to my stool.
I didn’t need to turn around. At least one of them was watching me closely. I requested another refill from another waitress. Now I was playing the waiting game.
Ten minutes later, there was no assurance Valentina had left, but I couldn’t feel her presence any longer. Every time we were in the same room, the electricity we shared was off the charts.
All that was left in the diner was their stench and a flat line of rage on my part.
Less than five minutes later I noticed the taillights of a vehicle that had obviously left from the backside of the parking lot. The small car was nondescript, but I expected the bastards had discovered most if not all the details regarding her life.
They powered down the food, every so often searching for her. Thankfully, they’d yet to realize she’d escaped.
However, I knew things were about to go into overdrive, so I pulled out my wallet, tossing some cash and headed out the diner’s door into the darkness.
Where I’d wait.
The game was about to get interesting.
Diners were all the rage, most staying open twenty-four hours. This one remained open until one in the morning, most customers already gone. What the closing afforded me was the luxury that the four men would spend the night suffering in silence.
Determining which was their vehicle wasn’t difficult. The gang members were nothing if not happy to showcase their wealth gained from the sale of illegal drugs, weapons, and extortion. The large black SUV had gold rims. Nothing screamed a criminal element like the gilding effect.
I’d parked my tank of a truck in an adjacent parking lot in the dark.
The vantage point allowed me a perfect view of the dining room and the exit.
While they were still chowing down, I took the opportunity to pull out my favorite hunting knife.
I’d owned it since I was eighteen, carrying it with me whenever possible.
Just like I did with an old Sig Sauer, a favorite weapon kept in the middle console of my truck. I’d also brought along some additional tools that I might need if things got out of hand. At this point, I simply wanted to disable their vehicle just in case.
Details did matter when dealing with cockroaches.
Without any fanfare, I headed to their vehicle, slicing the tires on the side away from the diner. That should do it.
Leaning against the driver’s door of my truck, I settled in to watch and wait.
While the road was well traveled even at this hour, I was aware the moment another vehicle slowed down behind where I was parked.
Within hesitation, I pulled out my weapon, remaining where I was and peering over the hood.
It took me a few seconds to recognize the visitor. Chuckling, I threw a look over my shoulder to ensure the cockroaches were still inside before moving around the front of my truck. I had to shake my head seeing Maverick’s choice of vehicles.
When he stepped out holding a pair of nunchucks in his hand, I laughed.
The man was dressed in all black and while I’d known about his martial arts training, I was surprised to see him carrying the mostly illegal weapon.
He was also carrying a gun and I knew from conversations over poker he regularly went to the shooting range.
“Couldn’t you have thought about a less flashy car to arrive in?
” Given his celebrity status as an author, he’d been allowed to indulge in his passion.
Expensive cars.
Including the Porshe 911-GT3.
“Hey, my other two cars are in for service. Plus, I didn’t have much advance notice.” He grinned as he approached. Very little had changed since his days of being in the FBI. He’d captured his share of bad guys during his illustrious career, his field work and takedown percentage legendary.
“Your other two cars. I thought you had ten.”
“I sold a few off.” He shook my hand then immediately scanned the diner. “Chase told me what was going on. Did Ms. Sciascia get off safely?”
“She did and they’re about to figure out their prized possession is missing.” We both watched as the waitress who’d served me coffee headed for their table. “We have about ten seconds.”