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“Not at all, since he died at some bar with his hand between the legs of another man’s wife.”
“Poor guy.” Carmelo lifts his bottle in the man’s memory.
“He was a nuisance who took liberties which weren’t his to take. I put up with him for my wife who took pity because he has no wife or kids. No one who really cared.” Roberto sits back, nodding to himself. Thinking. You can tell the exact moment his attention shifts back to what’s important; business. Why he needs me. “However, I have more important things to worry about than what story to tell my lady. We need to move the equivalent of half a billion dollars in six months, Malcolm, all in Mexican pesos this time. Five transactions coming from different states within Mexico starting in two weeks. It’s going to an offshore account in Barbados, and then from there to Switzerland.”
“Consider it done, but...” I pull out my phone and cross-check his last choice with an email from my informant. “Not to Switzerland. We’re going to split the final destination between Uruguay and somewhere East.”
“Uruguay works, but where east?”
“China. Shanghai, to be exact.”
I’m on my plane back to the US the next day around midday. Roberto left early this morning after a late dinner and then a few friendly games of pool, needing to reach the Panama Canal and ensure that a shipment of drugs passes through without incident.
He has men in that port, but one can never be too careful when money is involved.
Money moves the world, and it’s the reason why so many illegal businesses exists. One hand washes the other, especially when a few bills are thrown at any complication that can arise, but people get greedy. Want more.
And the problems lie with that more. With the opportunity, those idiots make mistakes, and in his business, that’s more common than one thinks. Even those at the top have to watch their backs of thieves.
Because everyone has a price. That golden number which makes them willing to take a life.
“We’ll be landing shortly, Mr. Asher,” my pilot announces, and I buckle myself in. This is a short pit stop that’s unavoidable before I head home. To be honest, I should’ve made the trip the moment I found out he was released.
My eyes stray away from the TV in front of me and over to the window. The sun is high, and the waters off the Florida coast glisten in its light. The city of Miami is beautiful, loud, but hides a danger beneath its golden surface that many fail to see.
I see it, though. The allure. The mist of sin and carnal desires that turns people into criminals.
The wheels touch down on the tarmac, and I turn my phone on. Immediately it pings with three text messages; two from Twirl and one from Gina.
The woman has been with me for a little over six months, working as a daytime guard inside the Asher building. She’s diligent, an ex-military medic who came home to nothing. Her family died, and the law failed to find their killer.
Javier knows her from when they were kids, vouches for her, and I’ve promised my help.
That alone has made her loyal to Twirl.
They’re both here just as you predicted. Cemetery entrance and waiting to approach. ~Gina
My fingers fly over the keys of my phone as the unbuckle seatbelt sign flips on and the pilot maneuvers the plane to the disembarkment point.
Call Javier and have him meet you there. ~Malcolm
Three little dots appear on the screen before her reply comes through.
Already done. I’m at one end of the road and he’s at the other watching. ~Gina
Approach made. Looks tense but the older Foster spotted Javier. ~Gina
With her response comes a photo of the three of them standing at a gravesite. They’re too close, and my girl looks uncomfortable. She’s wearing all black, a shirt and pants, and her face is half hidden beneath a large pair of sunglasses. The other two are of no importance, but I do smile a little when I see the bandage on Alton’s hand and the sling on Marcus’s shoulder.
Good. They don’t go anywhere with her. Keep close and alert at all times. ~Malcolm.
Understood, sir. ~Gina
Keep me updated. ~Malcolm
Giving her one last look over, I put my phone away and stand. My guards have already gotten off and are waiting for me just inside the private gate area. The plane will refuel here, and the crew will take a break while I meet up with an old friend.
The terminal is full of travelers as I make my way through the vast number of gates and restaurants. All overflowing, but even through this maze of faces, I spot Thiago Rivera easily.
