The Contractor Ch. 09-10

Chapter 9 Change of Address

I was tempted to take Ros to Cape Cod and have her stay with my parents. She would be safe there. Alfonso wasn't looking for someone named Vermeulen, he was looking for Rick Miller. My parents knew something about my career, but not enough to understand why I would be hiding a woman in their home without an explanation. Still, it would do temporarily. Sally would have to stay with me.

We had left the campground immediately after locking up the Airstream. The less time we spent around there the better. I stopped at a gas station in Hemet and made a call to my parents.

"Dad, I have a favor to ask. I need to bring a woman to your house and have her stay in my suite. I don't think she's in danger, but I don't want to take any chances. She'll be safe up there. Is that all right with you?"

"Yes, of course. I assume you can't tell me much more?"

"I can't and I don't want to. Just be sure she's taken care of when we arrive. She's had a bad shock and may need some people around her to help her recover. She's a good person, Dad. You don't have to worry about that."

"Okay, Rick. I trust you. I'll let your mother know. When do you expect to be here."

"Tomorrow, if I can get a flight. I'll call when I know our schedule."

"All right, Son. Stay in touch. We'll be expecting you."

I refilled the gas tank before heading north on I-215, then west to Manhattan Beach. We would stay there that night and I could start to make travel arrangements to fly to Boston.

It was late when we got into Los Angeles, but the evening traffic wasn't as bad as rush hour. We found a hotel near the beach and checked in for the night. We had a reservation for the three of us on a non-stop to Boston leaving at 8:40am the next morning. I booked business class for the five-and-a-half hour flight. We all stayed in the same room that night. I sent out for pizza and beer and we didn't leave the room once we checked in.

Sally was back to something resembling her normal self, and I was happy to see that Rosalind was beginning to recover from the shock of her brother-in-law's murder. Thankfully, she hadn't seen what they had done to him or her recovery wouldn't have been at all guaranteed. I know those kinds of images don't leave your memory very soon, and that included me as well. It was pretty quiet in the room that evening and we all retired early, knowing we had to leave early to catch our flight. I would leave Ros's car in long-term parking.

By the time we had landed in Boston and picked up our rental car, everyone seemed to be back to something resembling normal. Neither Ros nor Sally had ever been to New England, so they were rubber-necking as I drove south to the Cape and Barnstable. The Saturday evening traffic was light and we were only ninety minutes from Logan to the house. Rush hour traffic in Boston was the ugly equal to Los Angeles.

"Hi Mom, Dad, good to see you again."

"It's only been a few days, Richard," my mother remarked, but all the while eyeing my two companions.

"This is Rosalind Baynes and her daughter, Sally. Ladies, these are my parents, Margot and Hendrik Vermeulen."

"Come in, please," Mother said in welcome. I guessed that she was curious about which of the two women would be staying. My father was watching as well, probably wondering the same thing.

We sat in the living room and I explained, in very general terms, what was going on. Ros would be staying in my suite over the garage and she was to be treated just the way I was when I stayed there. She was a friend and I was counting on the famous Vermeulen hospitality to make her feel welcome.

"Don't worry about a thing, Rikard," my mother said happily. "It's a delight to have Rosalind here. If you've never been to this part of America, we can show you around. You'll be well entertained, I can assure you."

I silently thanked my mother for her genuine acceptance of a stranger. I hoped Ros would be happy with her temporary stay in New England. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell her how long "temporary" would be.

"Why did you bring me along? You could have left me with Mother," Sally said. We had just landed in Fort Myers and were southbound to Naples.

"The only family picture Hurley had was of you. That picture hung on the wall of his cabin in a prominent place. He wouldn't have left it behind. So, my guess is it should have been in the trailer. His killers would have seen it and wanted to know who you were. You might have led them to me. It may sound ridiculous, but my gut tells me you're better off with me than with Ros. If they were looking for you, Ros would be in the way. No one knows her. There was no picture of her at Hurley's place. Follow?"

"If I was still a cop and someone spun that story to me, I'd scream BULLSHIT at the top of my voice. Now tell me, why am I with you?"

I looked at her sitting in the right seat of the rental as we drove down the Tamiami Trail toward Naples. She was entitled to the truth, but the fact was I didn't have the guts to tell her the truth, mainly because she would have bailed on me. But now, here she was, a couple of thousand miles from her home and what was left of her family. I owed her something.

"I don't have much of chance of pulling this off by myself. I needed a partner. Someone I could trust with my life. Someone who wouldn't bail on me. Someone who has a stake in the outcome."

"Just exactly what are you trying to 'pull off' as you put it?"

"I want Alfonso. I want his head on a table with a rag stuffed in his mouth, just like he did to Hurley. Then I want to feed him to the 'gators. I want to teach that fucking Mexican what happens to people who mess with me and my friends. I want every one of his troops to see him. I want to post it on the internet where they can't fail to see it."

Sally gave me a look that defied description. I don't know whether she was surprised, or horrified, or what. I was planning revenge and I wasn't about to take any prisoners.

"You must know I want to be part of this," she said.

"I guessed that. I won't pretend it isn't dangerous. If we get caught, you can imagine what will happen. You don't have to do this, Sally. But if you do, I'll do everything possible to protect you. I don't have to worry that you'll do the same for me ... do I." It wasn't a question, it was a statement of fact.

She was silent for quite a while. That was okay. I didn't want her to make a snap decision. I wanted her to think about it and be sure. Very sure.

"I don't see how I can say no," she said finally. "Alfonso was linked to the gang in that undercover operation I was involved in. The Mexican authorities have lost count of the number of murders he and his gang have been responsible for. They'll never stop him on that side of the border. He has informants everywhere in the police. But on this side, we don't have to worry about that as much."

"We'll operate out of my condo until we can get a line on him."

"What makes you think he'll be around Florida?"

"South Florida is one of his new operating areas. Everything comes in by boat and almost all of it is landed on the Gulf of Mexico side. He picks little ports to make his drops. His command center on this side of the border is said to be Marco Island. That's a very short distance from Naples. That's where we begin our search."

"Won't he or some of his men recognize you?"

"Possibly. I'm going to grow a beard, let my hair grow longer and color out the gray. That should make it more difficult for them to spot me. Whatever I do, however, is going to have to be carefully planned."

"Don't you mean whatever we do?"

"You're going to have to be very low profile, Sally. I'm not sure they won't be watching for you as well as me. After all, you messed up their party in El Cajon. They don't know where we are and they probably don't think we'll come after them. Alfonso is one arrogant son-of-a-bitch. I'm hoping he's arrogant enough to think they don't need to be concerned with us."

"I'll change my hair color and my look. That should help," she said.

"As long as you can change it back when we're done with these guys. I'd hate to think you'd spoil that perfect look you have."

"Let's worry about taking these guys out and not my look, okay?"

"Yeah." Sally was right. Finding and killing Alfonso was our priority.

"Why are we going to Miami?" Sally asked.

"To meet a man who can help us. We need all the help we can get."

"Who is this man? Someone from your line of work?"

"No. His name is Emilio Vasquez. He imports coffee from Central America and Mexico. There's a rumor going around that he also imports cigars from a certain 'off limits' country. I've know him for a few years. He's a very valuable source of information."

"How does he fit into this business?"

"He's a former Cuban refugee, now a naturalized citizen. He's very well connected both in his former country and throughout his trading area. He knows the gangs are going to be in control of the Mexican economy if something doesn't happen to stop them. He's cooperating with U.S. officials, but he doesn't trust the Mexican government. He knows Alfonso and he wants him gone as much as we do. He's lost several of his friends and employees to Alfonso's gang."

"Okay, is there anyone else who can help us?"

"My old employer is willing, but can't be seen to be involved. The only thing I can count on them for is equipment and whatever intel they can get. I don't expect much."

"What are you thinking? How do you plan to attack this guy?"

"We use his tactics against him. We don't want him thinking the U.S. government is after him. In fact, we want him to believe that he's being attacked by other Mexican gangs. I want to pit one faction against the other. They'll do far more damage to each other than we could inflict."

"How?" she asked.

"Good question. That's the part I haven't worked out yet. That's why I need to talk to Emilio."

~*~

"Señor Vasquez will see you now," the lovely middle-aged Hispanic woman said as she returned to the reception area.

Emilio liked to surround himself with beauty and she was certainly in keeping with his usual high standards.

"Thank you," I smiled as Sally and I rose and followed her down the hallway.

My friend's office was very impressive. Dark walnut furnishings, large colorful paintings, top-quality legal-style bookcases, lush Persian rugs, and a view of Biscayne Bay that few people could duplicate. We were on the fourth floor of his office building, a building that housed his import coffee business. The aroma of roasting coffee beans was missing from this room, however. If there was any scent detectable at all, it was the scent of very expensive cigar smoke.

"Ricardo ... so good to see you again," he smiled broadly, all the while taking in Sally's appearance.

"And you, Emilio," I smiled. "This is Sally Baynes, my friend and associate. You need not keep anything from her."

He nodded toward Sally, smiling as he almost always did. "So nice to meet you, Senõrita Baynes. Please, sit. Margarita will bring coffee."

"You look prosperous, as always," I said.

"I am blessed with good fortune, Ricardo. And you ... now retired I'm told?"

"That was the plan, but something happened that has caused me to take on one more assignment," I paused. "Vicente Alfonso."

The look in his eyes changed only for an instant.

"How can I help?" was his immediate reply. No asking why or what. Emilio was that kind of man.

"I understand his Florida headquarters is on Marco Island. I need to know as much about it as I can learn."

"Does your employer know of this ... business?"

"Not officially. This is personal."

"A very dangerous choice, Amigo. He is evil, but he is very clever ... and usually very cautious."

I laid out my objectives to him and explained the result I wanted to achieve.

"Very ambitious," he said thoughtfully. "Very devious," he smiled. "You will need some luck, but there may be a way I can assist."

He explained his thinking and I was immediately grateful I had sought him out. He had the connections and he had the will to help me. There was little more I could ask for.

"Señorita Baynes, it was your uncle who was killed?"

"Yes. We were very close. I am angry, but I know my anger must be controlled to help Rick with this challenge."

Emilio was nodding. "You are quite correct. Your people taught you well. Your enemy is formidable. But ... you know that already ... true?"

"Yes," she smiled. "That will make the victory all the sweeter."

"And you, Ricardo. Her uncle was your friend?"

"Yes. I trusted him with my life and he would never have let me down. I owe him."

"Si, I understand. But you must rid yourself of anger and hate. This is too dangerous not to be clear of mind. I will let you know all I can learn about Marco Island within the next two weeks. It will come with a man I trust with my life, and he will help you with this task."

"That is very generous of you, Emilio. Thank you."

"I want you to succeed, Ricardo. I want this vermin eliminated. I have lost too many friends and associates to him. He must pay."

We stayed a bit longer, talking about things other than the challenge of ridding the world of Vicente Alfonso. The plan was beginning to take shape in my mind, but it wasn't all there yet. Much would depend on how good the information on Alfonso's stronghold on Marco Island was. If we were to be successful, that was the key to the operation.

"He's a very likeable man," Sally commented as we left the building. "I'm glad you trust him. I get the impression he has connections that could make life miserable for someone he doesn't like."

"Yes, indeed. The Cuban Mafia is the power in South Florida. Alfonso doesn't support them, but has formed a truce with them. I get the feeling that if we need some local help, that's where it will come from. Until recently, all the Mexican gang activity was pretty much confined to California and Arizona. Now, it's crept into Texas and along to Gulf Coast to Florida. I don't think the local gangs are going to be very happy about Alfonso setting up shop here."

"Why here?" Sally asked. "Why not Texas, or even Alabama?"

"Don't know. Maybe he has set up further west. Brownsville, Corpus Christi, Galveston, New Orleans, Mobile, even Pensacola would make more sense. There's probably a reason, but I don't know what it is."

Chapter 10 Chaco

My beard was almost full grown and the drug store hair coloring had eliminated the gray. I had let my hair grow much longer than usual as well. Sally had done the unthinkable. She had cut her beautiful red hair very short and colored it dark brown. Up close, the freckles were still visible and I wondered aloud if that would be a giveaway, but she didn't seem to think so.

It had been a month since I had met with Emilio and while I had received a verbal report from him, he suggested I sit tight until someone contacted me. I got the impression he wouldn't be calling. In the meantime, Sally and I relaxed on the beach and played tourist now and then. It felt like being in the army: hurry up and wait.

It was week five before we heard anything. I got a call on my cell from an unknown number.

"Rick speaking."

"Señor Ricardo, this is Chaco. Senõr Emilio asked me to assist you. We should meet."

"Yes, of course. Why don't we meet at Corte LaPlaya, the coffee shop? I will have the señorita with me."

"Excellent. Would you say ten o'clock would be too soon?"

"Ten o'clock is fine. How will I know you?"

"I will be wearing a yellow shirt and black pants. I am a big man, very hard not to see."

"See you there," I said, signing off.

"We have an appointment with our contact from Emilio."

"Good," Sally said with a determined look. "I've been getting itchy waiting to do something ... anything."

We were five minutes early and found a seat some distance from anyone else. It was a weekday morning and the mall had just opened. We didn't have long to wait before our contact arrived.

"Señor Ricardo?" he asked politely.

"Yes, and you are Chaco?"

"Si. May I sit?"

"Of course. This is Sally Baynes, my assistant."

He nodded politely. He was indeed a big man, squeezing himself into the booth we had chosen. By his look, he was mid-to-late thirties and his acne-ravaged face would never be called handsome. But then, we weren't looking for handsome.

"Señor Vasquez wishes to apologize that we cannot find Alfonso. He has left this area and we have not yet found him. He is believed to be in Mexico and we have our contacts watching for him. We know he has left this area and, if our information is correct, he will not be returning."

"Do you know why?"

"It is possible my associates have helped him with this decision. It would not be wise for him to interfere in our business affairs. He is an arrogant man, however, and we do not believe he has gone away forever."

"I'm told he's not a stupid man," I said. "Why would he pick a fight with you here on your own turf?"

"He does not respect us. He will learn to his regret that we will not allow him to interfere. Does this suit your purpose?"

I thought about it. If the Cuban Mafia looked after Alfonso, who could say that it wasn't a gang feud and a clearly labeled warning to others. But would it suit my purposes? It wasn't the way I envisioned dealing with the man, but it would do.

"I am grateful for your assistance. May I have some time to think on this? I wish to be involved when the time comes."

"That is understood. Is your phone secure?"

"Yes. You can call me at any time in safety."

He nodded. "I will call you tomorrow for your answer."

"Agreed," I said.

We shook hands and he left quietly. My coffee was cold now and I signaled the waitress for a new cup.

"Well, what do you think?" I asked Sally.

"I think this is what you wanted. But you told him you wanted to be there. Is that necessary?"

"Yes. Absolutely. I want to be the last one he sees and I want him to know why it is about to happen to him."

"Are you going to do what I think you're going to do?"

"Yes. I'll even supply the rag for his mouth."

"I don't think I want to watch that," she said, looking unhappy about my intent.

"I'm not thrilled about the idea either, but it must be done. Hurley would never forgive us if we passed on the opportunity. An eye for an eye, Sally."

"Or a head for a head, you mean."

"Yeah."

"Will that be the end of it?"

"I think so. I think that will cause all kinds of chaos in his organization. They will be vulnerable to the next bunch who want to take his place. That should accomplish some inter-gang warfare."

"And more innocent people getting killed," Sally said sadly.

"Probably. But it also might get the Mexican government off its ass to do something about these guys. Right now, they do whatever the hell they want without the slightest worry about getting caught. That's got to stop."

"I know. I'm with you on that, but you know and I know that killing Alfonso won't stop it. It will make things messy and we'll have some revenge on him for killing Uncle Hurley, but it won't make much difference in the long run."

I looked at her for a moment.

"Do you want me to call it off? It's probably not too late."

"No. I want him dead. I'm just not sure I'll feel good about it."

"I hope you don't feel good about it. When you do, it's time to see a shrink. But some things are necessary and this is one of those times."

"You don't have any doubts, do you?"

"Nope. Not a one."

"You better call Chaco then," she said. "Sooner is better."

I pushed the redial on my phone and he answered immediately.

"We will go ahead as planned, Chaco. Please thank Señor Emilio for his assistance."

And that was it. The process was underway and now we would wait until we were contacted.