Laughing Eyes: Bittersweet Familia (3) (12 page)

BOOK: Laughing Eyes: Bittersweet Familia (3)
4.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

Anna

 

Luiza sat on the edge of the bed towelling her wet, shoulder length hair. Aiden and Danny had left over an hour ago and our new sentry had positioned himself outside our door.

“I’m not gonna lie, babe. I am super-excited that we are getting out of this place.” She grabbed at my foot. “How are you?”

“I’m ok.”

“Ok? I thought you would be just as stoked. You do recall that we almost never made it here, don’t you?”

“I am excited and how could I forget? In fact, please don’t remind me that El Leon was at the motel. It’s just that I feel like we have loose ends that need sorting. We still had so much to do, so much more we could do to help. I wanted to make sure Tomas was ok. That day we met Danny and Aiden was the day I went to check on him and the whole place was deserted. I can’t help but worry that something may have happened to him.”

“Plus, there is the case of leaving the boyfriend behind,” Luiza teased. Although I was embarrassed by the whole thing I was happy that some light was being restored in her eyes.

“He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” It wasn’t a question I needed answering. “It’s hard to believe that we may never have found each other back home. That it took us both entering into a war zone to bring us together.”

“So what’s going to happen when he gets back to the US? Are you going to continue whatever it is you have going on?”

I couldn’t lie. Not to my best friend. “That is a definite. I want nothing more than to spend my life with him!”

“I can see the way he looks at you. Like he wants to eat you and wrap you up in cotton wool at the same time.”

Wrapping the pillow around my face to hide my flushed cheeks, I knew she was right. I had seen the same look whenever our eyes met, felt his gaze lingering when I wasn’t looking. He was intoxicating and I loved it.

“You know we need to get out of here?” Luiza continued as I untangled myself. Her tone was still light, but carried an edge of sadness. “For whatever reason, he is after you.” She was no longer talking about Danny.

I sat up at the head of the bed, placing the pillow over my lap. “I can’t think why El Leon would turn his attention to me. I am no different to the rest of you who are helping. If it really is him, I have nothing that he would want. I have done nothing to him. It just doesn’t make sense.”

 

Danny

 

Six hours later and we were in the heart of the city. Despite it being just after midnight the streets were filled with people. Some were wrapping up their business, others meeting for a late dinner. The humidity was stifling, the aromas of exotic foods mixed with sweat and drain odours, noxious.

I had every intention of finishing this job once and for all and heading back to the airport by morning. The desire to be with Anna the moment she steps on the plane was overwhelming. It was almost like a fresh new start for both of us.

“Gringo,” called a female voice to my side. Aiden and I were travelling at a decent pace, keen to waste no time, yet the three women who were clearly prostitutes, cantered along after us.

“You have all us tonight,” said the slightly plump one, whose face looked as if it had only just recovered from a severe beating. I had no doubt their pimp was watching us with a hawk eye somewhere close.

“No, thanks.” I replied, dismissively. We didn’t have time for unnecessary hassles. Aiden didn’t even bother glancing in their direction, his shoulders squaring in agitation.

“How about your friend, hey? Whatever you want, how you want, all three of us,” said the bottle blonde with thick black eyebrows. She was dressed in a hustler skirt and tie-together bra. The ridiculous stiletto heels that looked two sizes too small, caused her legs to bend more than was usual with every step she took.

The same woman made a quick step in front of me, attempting to wrap her bony arms around Aiden’s waist. He pushed her away with a not-so-friendly warning. It was called for. We both were carrying a lot of heat under our jackets and we didn’t need our cover blown for the sake of cheap thrills.

She, however, oblivious to our objectives, took great offense to the rejection. Her bright red lips formed a scowl and a string of Spanish curses flew off her tongue at rapid speed.

“Well, you have a way with the ladies,” I elbowed him as we tried to step around her. The prostitute took a quick stride to stay a couple of feet in front.

“You call that a lady?” Aiden muttered, clear annoyance in his tone.

The insults continued to flow, the woman’s voice growing louder with each step she took. People were starting to look at the commotion, their curiosity having a ripple effect.

“We need to get the fuck off this street before their pimps take issue with us too.” Aiden said.

“Too late.” Ahead, two men advanced, their black mid-thigh jackets a dead giveaway as to their role in the whole fiasco.

“Turn left down that alley. Whatever it is about to unfold can do so without everyone watching.” As we turned down the quiet corridor, the men following barked orders at the irate women. They remained at the entry way and continued their taunting as we disappeared into the shadows.

“Game on,” I said quietly to Aiden as we both turned to face our aggressors.

One was a bald man with a shapely goatee. He cracked his neck and I couldn’t stop my lips from twitching at his attempt at bravado. The other wore what looked to be a permanent snarl.

“You fucking touch my bitch, bro, you pay,” said the one with a muss of hair.

“There’s a difference between touching and not wanting her filthy hands on me, asshole.” Aiden was clearly not amused by the whole situation. We had bigger eggs to fry and these morons were just getting in our way.

“Asshole?” Snarl said to baldy before turning back to us. “He took a step forward closing the space between him and Aiden. “All you gringos are the same. You come here to stick your dick into anything that walks but don’t wanna pay. How about you fuck your own women and leave ours alone.”

Snarl flicked his blade open and lunged toward Aiden, but was swiftly deflected. In a matter of seconds his arm was twisted behind his back, a pained grunt echoing down the alley. Aiden kicked the back of his legs until he fell into a puddle of rank drain water, the switchblade clattering to the ground.

“You keen?” I asked the man left standing.

Like the fool he was he reached for his gun in his waistband, but it was too little too late. I raised my own Glock and pulled the trigger, shooting a neat hole through his thigh. Fortunately, my silencer prevented inquisitive glances from the street ahead, but his screams bounced off the buildings. The last thing we needed was the authorities closing in on us.

“Drop your fucking gun!” I ordered to the flailing man. He had fallen to his knees, his left hand covering the wound just below his groin.

“You almost shot my fucking dick, asshole.”

“I missed on purpose. Now put your fucking gun down.”

He ignored the instruction and lifted his weapon, the metal and stone-studded handle gleaming in the distant street light. Aiden shot off two bullets, one hitting the man’s raised arm, the other where every male would hurt.

Another agonized scream bellowed out from the wounded man, his gun dropping to the ground as he clutched his genitals, strangled sobs spewing from his mouth. At the entrance of the alley, the hookers who had struggled to see through the dimness, now knew what had transpired. Their raised voices filtered down the corridor as onlookers gathered behind them.

“We need to get the hell out of here and fast.” I said to Aiden as he kneed his man in face. It was a sickening blow and one he wouldn’t be waking up from anytime soon.

“There is a door down to the left. We can’t go back out onto the street.”

The door was ajar, a light filtering through the crack. Strong smells wafted out of the kitchen that was still abuzz with workers. The staff barely even noticed as we snaked our way through the cramped space, the tiles slippery with spilled dish water and grime.

A few sets of curious eyes followed us as we crossed from one end of the restaurant to the other.

Back on the streets, keeping our heads down we soon came across what we had been searching for. In the middle of town, with wide glass frontage covered in security grills stood a gun and ammo shop.

Pressing the red button positioned to the side of the door, we heard a faint buzz from inside as we waited. A few moments passed before an unfriendly face greeted us.

The man with a wide girth held the door semi open as he rang off something in Spanish, his belly moving with every syllable. Aiden engaged in the short conversation which was terse from the beginning. The banter continued and the tone soon changed. Our now nervous and somewhat frightened looking shop assistance working up a furious sweat.

“What’s he saying?” I asked Aiden who was now reaching behind for his Glock.

Also noticing the impending threat, our unhospitable host moved quickly to close the door, his once beady eyes now wide with fear.

He was too slow and messing with the wrong people. My boot jarred the door startling the already on edge man. Pushing my way in, he took several steps back, his hands raised in terrified surrender.

“He says he is just filling in for someone,” Aiden began, keeping his eyes trained on our trembling target. “Says that he was ordered not to let anyone in.”

“Well that didn’t work out too well for him.” I pulled my own Glock out laying it on the counter, my finger itching on the trigger.

“Do you speak English?” I asked.

He looked to me, pursing his lips before holding his finger slightly apart.

“Good enough! Where is the owner?”

“Getting more.” He gestured around the shop, which had a massive range of weaponry on display in glass cabinetry yet at least half the room seemed to be behind lock and key offering zero visibility of the products.

“Where does he buy from?” Aiden asked.

Our man looked to us, his face suddenly drawing a blank.

“Who does the owner buy from?” I repeated, my words slower.

“I no understand.”

“Bullshit!” Time was ticking by and this man was obviously too terrified to talk. Pointing my gun to his head, he squeezed his eyes closed and muttered a prayer between sobs. I did feel a twinge of guilt. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I needed answers.

“Last chance, buddy! Who does he buy from?”

“Please,” he begged. “El Leon, he will kill me and my family.”

“Your boss buys from El Leon?” Aiden queried, his curiosity piqued by the sudden change of tone.

“Yes. He owns everything. This place, the whole street. Police too scared to help. You cross him, you die. And bad. Rodrigo, three doors down, was dragged in middle of street, his….his…” Lacking the words, our man fisted his hand and ran it along his wide belly, indicating this ‘Rodrigo’ had met an awful fate.

It sounded all too familiar.

“Where does El Leon live?” I asked.

He now looked defeated, his shoulders slumped.

“In a white house,” he replied through sobs.

“He lives in a white house?”

He nodded his head furiously determined to get this over and down with.

“Come,” I said, grabbing him by his sweaty singlet, leading him to the door. Looking around the street, only a few people loitered fifty yards away. Dragging him out, we faced the mountain top that looked over the city. It was dark yet I knew the positioning of the “white house”. The cliff face was dotted with an assortment of mansions, their lights twinkling in the night sky.

“Is that the one?” I said, pointing in its direction.

He nodded his head, this time with less enthusiasm. “Yes.” His one word reply was barely audible.

“Thank you, your help is appreciated.”

The man didn’t seem convinced. He looked to me like he had just been delivered a life sentence.

“We’re done, you can go.”

His eyes darted around the street nervously as he took three hesitant steps back. After a brief pause, narrowing his vision to something down the lane, we watched as he walked back into the shop, not even closing the door behind him.

Aiden heaved a heavy sigh, fatigue starting to get to us both. “At least now we have the right house. If what he was saying is true -”

A sudden blast from inside the shop had us both crouching to the road, eyes glued to the entry. “What the fuck was that?”

Deep down I already knew. The guilt I had felt earlier came flooding back in waves. The few people down the street, watched, but were far from alert. Perhaps they too were used to the horrors of this place. The violence clearly wasn’t just promised to the jungle, but also to the city folk.

Cautiously, we made our way to the shop, both with our weapons still drawn.

The scene before us was one we hadn’t expected.

“Fuck!” Aiden summed it all up.

The man’s fear had been real.

The terror in his eyes hadn’t all been for show.

Slumped against the counter, a thick smear of blood behind him, our informant lay dead. A bullet to the mouth sealing his fate.

 

 

***

 

The gates to the cliff-side mansion was manned by a security team, each sentry sporting a high-powered machine gun.

“This will be interesting,” Aiden whispered. We were only two hundred yards down from the entrance behind a large power box on the opposite side of the road, a position ideal for scoping the targets.

“He’s not shy of flaunting his blood money.” I said, as we both looked through our binoculars at the lit up architects masterpiece that adorned the cliff. “Luckily one of us is well versed in dealing with this sort of arrogance.”

“Fuck you, bro!” I snorted with laughter at Aiden’s response. I could tell he was smiling when he said it, but there was an edge to it also. “What do you see?”

“I’m not quite sure yet. You need to be somewhere?” I asked, amused at his attempt to change the subject.

“Hector wants me head back home.”

I cast him a curious look. “Do you want to go back?”

“What do you reckon?”

“No, I don’t reckon you do.” Aiden didn’t have to, but he felt like he still owed some servitude to the man.

“How many of them are there?”

“I’m can see five. I think we are good to go,” I said, already moving to set up my sniper rifle, “I’ll take the northern sentry, you cover the southern corner and entry.”

Other books

Hidden Steel by Doranna Durgin
The Echo of Violence by Jordan Dane
Come to Castlemoor by Wilde, Jennifer;
Eating Crow by Jay Rayner
Tears on a Sunday Afternoon by Michael Presley
Time of the Draig by Lisa Dawn Wadler
Timothy of the Cay by Theodore Taylor