New Orleans Book Four #2
They all shook their heads.
“She said she was protecting her family or something,” one of them added.
“If you let us go, we won’t come back,” the main guy said.
“And why would we do that?” Callian asked.
“Cause we can tell you who she will go after next.”
Cillian looked at Liam then at Seamus and gave them a nod. “Ok, laddies we will set you free, so tell us.”
“We need to be outside, then we’ll tell you.”
“Ahh, they don’t trust us, nephew,” Liam told Seamus.
Cillian glared down at the men. “My word is my bond.” He signaled to his son, Spencer. “Open the doors.”
After a moment, the metal doors slid open.
The men slowly got up to move back with their hands behind their head as they literally walked backwards.
“I overheard her talking to someone on the phone, she sent a team to each of the Sons Of Ireland breweries. To kill, maim and burn them to the ground.” The man gave them a nod, then turned and ran off.
His friends rushed after him.
“Each?” Seamus repeated in shock.
Bits of Book Five, Portland Oregon
When Will Met Darlene
Will reached down and lifted her chin. “Lassie, you can help us against those men and we can protect you from them too, if you’ll let us. But you have to trust us. I know that’s scary for you but we’ll stand beside you. One thing we won’t do is throw you to the wolves when they come storming in.”
Darleen stared at him and then said, “Today, I was hiding not far from here and I ducked down when I heard two men approach my area. They were too busy talking to even notice me. I tried not to listen but they were talking about hitting the brewery later tonight. One of them was laughing about an old witch paying them and they were talking about watching this place the last two nights when no one was around and they decided the simplest way was to break in and just tear the place apart and if they ran into anyone to just simply leave them dead. I didn’t know what to do or who to tell but I had to do the right thing and try to warn someone here.
I left as quietly as I could but one of them saw me and started chasing me. ”
Liam glanced at Finn and his look was grim. “This changes the game a bit.”
Finn nodded. “Aye, it does. Before they were ordered to break up the place but now they think they can come in here and kill whoever they find? Not on my watch.” He shook his head. He looked at his son Oran and advised, “Best call everyone in. We’re gonna need them.”
Catching the attackers...
One of the three men cleared his throat, then whispered, “She will kill us if we tell you her name or what we know.”
Cillian nodded. “And you’ll bleed to death on my floor before I call medical help for you, it is your choice I am thinking.
” Shaking his head, he recalled, “Tis a matter of living with the consequences of what you’ve chosen to do with your life.
Every day a man makes a choice and today you three chose wrong.
That’s something you have to live with or maybe die because of. ”
The man that did all the talking asked about the other men locked in the room at the end of the hall, “What about our friends? Did you shoot them too?”
Cillian just smiled. “Na, we didn’t bother them fellas, but they've been locked up in that room for a long while now. By morning they’ll be babbling idiots or half dead.
That room is rather closed off and doesn’t get any air if the vents are shut up tight.
We don’t use it on a regular basis, you understand, only as a storage room and old stuff we put in there don’t need to breathe.
So we closed the vents so as to not run up the costs, you know.
The only air they got in there is from the window they busted getting in. ”
The three men looked at each other then back at Cillian. “Our friends won’t last the night then?”
Cillian shrugged. “Ain’t my problem, they decided to come in here, I dinna invite them. Ain’t my problem they chose the wrong room to come into.”
“What are you going to do with us?” one of the three men asked.
“Well now, that sort of depends on you.” Liam growled.
“You tell us what you know about the old woman you mentioned earlier and we’ll let the police handle you.
The longer you wait, the weaker you will become.
And by morning the more blood we’ll have to sop up with a mop.
Oh, and the weaker your friends will be. ”
“Also, the madder they’ll be when they find out you let them rot in that room.” Seamus chuckled. “And we’ll be sure to tell them what you did as the police are carrying them out of here.”
“You really are bastards, aren’t you?” The main man snapped.
“Sure, you may call us bastards.” Cillian shrugged.
“But we never asked you to break into this business and the law says we have the right to protect what’s ours.
If you want to sit there and bleed all over the floor that’s your choice and I guess you got the right to make it.
It doesn't make sense to me but I’m not the one bleeding. ”
One of the three men narrowed his eyes at them. “And if we tell you what you want to know, then what? You realize we are painting a huge red target on our backs, right?”
Cillian shrugged. “You knew the risk when you took the job, didn't you? Or did she tell you we would fold the second you showed up with your little stinkin’ crow bars? Is that it? You expected us to just give up? Well, who are the fools now, boyos?”
The three men seemed to slump in their chairs.
The leader of the group just shook his head. Then he exhaled hard before he finally broke the silence, “She told us you wouldn’t fight back, that you were a bunch of old men now. That you were weak and she finally wanted her revenge on one of you.”
“We need to know her name, laddie,” Liam said. “And exactly what she told you.”
The other man nodded and then said, “Ria Sanchez.”
Liam and Cillian’s eyes widened and they both cursed in Irish, “Go maith fuck!
“The hell you say. I thought that bitch was dead a long time ago.” Cillian looked.
Seamus frowned as he stared at his uncles. “Who is this woman?”
Liam shook his head and looked at his nephew sadly. “Oh laddie, she is a ghost from the past all right and not a welcome one at that.”
Later that evening...
Chris Sanchez kept shaking his head as his mom kept bitching at him over the phone. He had a deal coming in tonight and he needed to not be distracted. “Mother, I have to go.”
“You aren’t going to help me?” Ria screeched.
“You hired men,” he replied. “I don’t see why I need to—”
“You’re my son!” she screamed. “That’s why. Plus, I paid for the house you live in. You know, the one you trashed?” she spat.
“Yeah, yeah. But what if I land in jail because of this?”
“You stay back and watch. No cops will catch you.”
“Mother, I don’t believe you. I saw the news reports coming out of Boston, New Orleans and two other towns. The O'Malleys are impossible to take down. It’s like they are always a step ahead of any attack. I would bet they even know about yours.” He popped the can beer open.
“You need to not drink tonight!” she snapped.
“I’ll be fine, cause I will be staying home. I can’t go back to prison, Mother. I can’t.”
“With the way you’re living...You will, Mijo. You will.” She ended the call.
“Thank fuck, she is gone. I don’t care about some beer-making guys and getting revenge that makes no fucking sense. Look at how much money the bitch is spending on this.” He stood and went for another beer. She was right about one thing, he’d better stay sober until this drop was done.
He snickered. He had the most badass setup.
He used this house as a post office of sorts.
Drugs were dropped off then someone else would come and pick it up, sooner or later.
Usually sooner. He got good money for being a storage center.
It was safer than making it or selling it.
And he never had to leave the house at all.
One of his motion sensors went off in the yard. Considering his fucked up yard, no one would guess he had them. He also had a few cameras. He looked at the street cam to see the car he expected. It was the same description as the text message described.
A man got out and weaved his way through the garbage to finally come to the door.
Chris was already there and he opened it.
The man looked disgusted. “Your place is trash, senor.”
Hefting up the Prime box, Chris said, “Disguises man. I don’t advertise the money I make.”
The cartel guy shook his head. But said nothing as he took the box. Turning, he went the same weaving path back to his car.
Slamming the door, Chris headed for another beer. He had the rest of the night off. He chuckled.
The motion sensor went off again and his amused chuckling faded away. He grabbed his beer, went over to his greasy looking laptop and tried to see what was out there. While looking at the three camera angles, he downed his sixth beer of the day.
Suddenly, he saw a stray dog getting into some trash.
He rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his beer.
The sensor went off again. “The fuck?” He then saw that asshole from down the street.
“Fucking Jerry!” He grabbed his Luger and tucked it into his belt.
He hated this smugfaced fucker, he would love to scare the guy with his Luger.
Then he decided to take a beer out with him.
“Trespassers need to be shot. The hell with the laws here.” He swaggered out.
At The O’Malley Brewery...
Oran had a way with tech, as in he could hack into just about anything. He’d found the camera URLs right from the address where Christopher Sanchez lived and abused.
They were all watching the porch and the yard at that residence.
Jerry bent down to pick the dog up.
Stepping off the porch, Chris called out to him, “Get off my land!”
“I am,” Jerry said as carried his dog through the path. Then when he felt like he was far enough away, he turned and asked, “So when are you gonna clean this shithole up?
Of course, this ticked Chris off. He grabbed his gun from his belt and raised it.
Just then, a cop car pulled up and another, then a third. Lights were beaming red and blue as sirens wound down.
“The fuck?” Chris stared at the police cars in shock and lowered his gun.
Cops came onto the property. One took his weapon and the other handcuffed him.
“Hey, I didn’t break the law.” Chris looked confused.
“That gun. Is it registered?” one of them asked.
He hung his head as he didn’t answer.
“He’s got a record, so he isn't allowed a gun anyway.” The third cop read his stats on the Ipad in his hand.
“Ok, and you are under the influence of alcohol, with an illegal weapon on your person.” One of the other officers nodded.
“That gives us probable cause,” the one holding his arm said.
Looking back and forth in a panic, Chris exclaimed, “For what?”
“To search the house,” a fifth cop said as he came up with a German Shepard.
“WHAT?” Chris looked panicked. “NO!”
“Oooh, so that’s how it is.” The one with the dog knelt and said to the animal, “Search for Meth.” He let the shepherd loose.
That was when Chris flipped out. “Oh, fuck no!” He got loose from the officer who’d been holding his arm and took off while screaming, “Set up!” He would have made it out of the yard if he hadn’t tripped on a ripped open trash bag.
He went down and his face landed on a broken beer bottle.
..his favorite brand too. He screamed in pain as he tried to get up but being cuffed, injured and drunk, he just couldn’t do it. Blood poured from his left cheek.
One of the officers told another one to go get the kit.
It took two of them to sit him up.
Chris looked around and yelled loudly, “If this is your doing O’Malleys. You’d better come see me! There is something you need to know. Something that could destroy you all!”