Page 24 of His Obsession

“Yeah?” he answered.

“Call Jake and get to my house in thirty.”

I made myself a turkey sandwich on rye and chewed it slowly while marking up the crossword puzzle I have been doing for three months. “Shakespeare’s mistress displays the same unknown quantities.”By the time I figured out “Doxy,” I had finished my meal, and Jake and Tonk walked through the door with three other guys behind them. These guys had been part of my crew for years.

“Diaz, Chris, Sam, how’s it going?” I got the niceties out of the way, and we got to work.

“The cameras at the warehouse are waiting to be knocked off the network. The security team that monitors them will think there is a routine firmware update. They’ll be blind, but I won’t.” Jake said, his fingers clicking away on his keyboard.

“Okay, are all the potential exits, and entrances blocked off aside from the ones we want them to use?” I asked Tonk.

“Yes, we had an issue getting some stuff to blockade the one exit, but it’s handled now. I had to pay off some workers to move some things around,” he said, placing his hands on the table.

I pulled out the warehouse's satellite image and pointed to the left of the building, marking our point of entry. “I want five guys sitting here.” I pointed to the cell tower across the parking lot. “I want my sniper here and another one in here.” Touching the picture of the inside of the warehouse. I wanted him high and in the dark where only I would know where he was. “Is that good with you, Tonk?” I gave my input and suggestions, but Tonk had the final say.

“Okay. We have Dante and Diego. We can put them here,” Tonk said, agreeing with my decision.

“All right. Otherwise, this is just an in and out. They have agreed to the deal. We just need the money transferred. Alvarez will get the key to the locker and pick up his shit, and we won’t have to transport anything.”

This was how my deals went down, the buyer would see the product sample, but I locked the full product in a storage facility of my choosing. When we finished the sale, I’d give them the key, and they would pick it up on their own. My hands never came in contact with the merchandise, and I’d be off free if anything happened with the Feds.

There were perks to being the broker—I made the rules. If you didn’t like them, leave. If you left, I’d never deal with you again, and you’ve burned your bridges for your associates as well.

“Questions?” I asked, waiting for someone to speak. They all shook their heads, and I pressed my hands together. “Okay, let’s get this done and be home in time for a late dinner.”

∞∞∞

Diego and Dante were in position, and security was sitting at all vulnerability points. We had things covered. Jake set up his laptop in the back, hidden behind some crates. His new black shirt was reading “Code-Blooded;” he was proud of that one. Tonk stood behind me, the roar of motorcycles signaling us that Alvarez was here.

“They are here, eyes and ears open,” said Tonk through his ear-piece.

Alvarez was the president of the most extensive local MC. He wasn’t a pretty guy, as all these TV shows made MCs out to be. His pudgy, pockmarked face reminded me of an ugly bulldog that needed to be shot out in the back. Alvarez’s body was so massive his motorcycle groaned with his weight. Alvarez was a repeat customer for my seller; he paid good money, and he was always punctual, despite his obesity. His fat five-nine figure waddled to the table, and I shook his sweaty palm.

Gross.

“Alvarez, good to see you,” I greeted him. If you keep things all business, you won’t have to hesitate when it comes time to pull the trigger and shoot someone. I would have no feelings involved if it came to that.

“Jackson, looking good.” His Mexican accent was thick when he spoke. I had heard Alvarez enough times to decipher his words, but some still had difficulty understanding him.

“Right, shall we?” I pointed him to the key that lay on the table and three sample guns from the stock. Once Alvarez took his weapons, a cleaning crew would go in and mop it up, then I’d find a new place. “You just need to transfer the money, you can have your key, and we’ll be on our merry way. Same as always.”

“Well, about that,hombre,I got a call before we arrived. This guy says we are getting ripped with replicas that are being sold as the real deal.”

The unexpected tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Much like how I’m going to cut Alvarez’s throat should he insult me again.

“I suggest you think long and hard before you offend me again, Alvarez. We’ve done business before, and nothing you have acquired from us has been a replica or trash,” I said as calm as I could be after he insulted. I had a bit of a reputation among the underground; they called me a sociopath. I was not entirely sure where the name came from, but it was close to the truth. I had all the emotions; I just turned them off.

Shouts came from outside, and gunshots rang out like Vietnam. “We have incoming,” Tonk yelled. I pulled my Glock, snatched the key off the table, and Tonk and I ran over to Jake for cover.

“Someone talk to me. What is going on out there?” Tonk radioed to the team.

Watching Alvarez run across the warehouse was by far the most entertainment I’ve had in a while. His fat ass had to hold his pants up with one hand and his gun in the other.

A man with a black leather vest, one that didn’t belong to Night Legion, burst through the door and executed Alvarez, shooting him square in the face. Alvarez dropped like a sack of potatoes. His body twitched on the floor. The VP went down, shooting, hitting the man with his bullets until the man emptied his clip into the VPs chest.

The long-haired man screamed as his arm fell, partially severed from a high-caliber rifle that came from the rafters.Thank you, Dante. Another shot rang out, and the man lost his head, landing on top of Alvarez. Two more guys wearing the same cut came in from the side door that was supposed to be blocked off. I stood, took aim, and hit the one dead in the chest three times. I shot at the second guy hitting him, but not before he squeezed a round off, hitting my arm. The burn from the bullet radiated, and I dropped to the ground behind the crate

“Are you hit? Did you get hit?” Jake asked, in rapid-fire questioning.