Chapter 13

Emiliano

Dante 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 Patrόn’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 Patrόn.”

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 Patrόn 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 Patrόn’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 Patrόn.