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Motionlessly, Dante cut his eyes to Roman and then to TJ, Jerraud and Kevin. Tito pulled his SUV into the shipyard and parked in a spot designated for one of the offices down there and stepped out to greet Christopher Alfaro with a handshake. They disappeared into a small office with the shades lowered. Elliott turned off the radio in a van with his satellite images of the square footage of the Gustavo Marina while Cole tried calling in favors with the Coast Guard. The team was together again, yet Dante still felt incomplete. He twisted the ring on his finger and Harley’s face came to mind, and he automatically wanted to kick himself for leaving her behind.
To make matters worse, Dante took Harley’s phone from her. Even if he wanted to call and check on her, he couldn’t. According to TJ, she’d left the hotel suite barefoot and weaponless. It still did not make her completely helpless, but Dante still kicked himself for allowing Elliott to put a tracker on her, not that she’d let them. Her stubbornness was going to be the death of him.
Roman’s cousin, Jose, met the team at the fountain, not far from the docks and was talking with Javier weighing out the options. If Javier’s tip came through for them, Jose planned on talking to his friends in wit-sec. Harley was going to serve his ass on a platter, but since she decided to go MIA on them, he had no other choice. If they sent Leonardo to jail, he would still have Leonardo’s henchmen after Javier. If Leonardo’s men didn’t do it, Bobby Marchette would clean up all loose ends. Dante expected to hear a problem concerning the kid.
“What is it?” Roman pressed his finger against his ear as a truck moved a crate fifty feet in the air.
“We’ve got another car approaching,” Elliott’s whistle pierced through the speakers. “A limousine.”
The black binoculars absorbed the afternoon heat and warmed the skin just beneath his eyes as Dante peered through to get a look. “I’ll bet my left nut it’s Bobby.”
“Keep your left nut,” Cole said over the radio.
“Yeah, you may need it to start a family of your own,” joked Jerraud, “Come on and join the ranks of fatherhood.”
“Babies and this career don’t mix,” Dante said too quickly, remembering Harley’s blanched face at Alfaro’s café. No wonder the idea did not appeal to her, at least now he understood. He got adoptions. He commended those who went through. TJ went through it. Harley left him with the feeling she wanted.
“Hey now,” Jerraud drawled. “You forget who you’re talking to.”
In a way, Dante had. Jerraud was the father of four little girls. Hard to believe a man of his stature was such a push over when it came to his daughters. Jerraud’s family thought he was a pilot for a private company. Dante guessed in a way he was—STB. He’d extracted Dante’s ass out of some precarious situations. Divorced from the girls’ mother, Jerraud still visited with his girls in between missions. Dante didn’t want that life for his kid.
“Sorry,” Dante quickly said, “I’m not knocking it, just not sure Harley wants it.”
A low cackle and a lot of finger pointing—well more like whips being cracked in the air—went on between Roman, Jerraud and TJ, insinuating Dante was whipped. He flipped them the finger and went back to his binoculars.
Dirt stirred along the sand-covered road at the docks. Beyond the docks a ship sounded off, begging for passage at the causeway. STB put in a call to keep the bridge down, blocking all imports and exports for an hour. No one wanted to risk a trade happening this afternoon.
Soft yellow and green sand grass blew in the wind exposing their cover. The men crouched further at the top of the hill into the sand. Dante would be washing it out of places for days. But it was part of the job. TJ turned his head to the side to view through the scope of his sniper rifle. “I see our problem is slowing down.”
The sand dust circled around the hood and tires of the car. Several small offices lined the entrance of the docks. A lot of businesses side stepped delivery into town by picking up their own shipments rather than pay the extra fee for dockworkers to deliver. Majority of the businesses were closed for lunch. Coincidence? Dante highly doubted it. The limousine stopped in front of the only door with the red open sign flashing. Leonardo Marchette was the first to step out of the office followed by Christopher Alfaro. The STB crew exchanged confused looks. The two main players were already there; three all together counting the jail van. Somewhere in this parking lot of hundreds of cargo crates were the girls Moses Baez, the guidance counselor, thought he could sell. Well, Dante had another plan for him. It was time to shut him down.
“Damn,” the guys next to him breathed.
Dante followed their line of vision just in time to see Bobby Marchette step out of the car and turn to his left to help out his passenger, Dante’s wife. The ponytail swept to the side revealed the blood stains over her shoulder. Snorting like a bull, sand blew before his face and before Leonardo fully raised his weapon, Dante was already up, on his feet and barreling down the dune.
Chapter 16
Harley expected this reaction from Leonardo, it’s why she stepped out of the limousine with the gun she borrowed blazing. She steadied her aim, resting her forearms on the opened door. A breeze from the water cooled her neck and acknowledged the sweaty situation she’d gotten into. A rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins. After being inside the dark limousine the bright skies blinded her, still she kept her gun pointed in the direction of the hysterical fit.
“I killed you!” Leonardo yelled.
“You sure?” Harley asked sarcastically.
“What is going on, Harley?” asked Alfaro.
Her eyes adjusted to the light and she watched Alfaro step closer to the door-frame. He hadn’t changed his clothes. The gray material of the suit hung wrinkled off his body. The rancid bile gurgled in the back of her throat of being touched by him. She aimed her gun at him, stopping him before he took a step forward. “I bet you’re having a raging hard-on right about now with me holding this gun to
your head.”
Alfaro’s brown eyes shifted to the ground. Surprise? Regret? Relieved? Either way, she didn’t recall seeing his face peering out the window as she fell. “I thought you were dead. I told you he’s crazy.”
“Jesus, Leonardo,” Bobby said clutching his temples. “What has gotten into you?”
Leonardo lowered his gun. A choked out laugh of disbelief escaped his throat. “You told on me? To my father? Who does that?”
“Someone about to stop you from any business deals you have going on today,” Harley resisted the urge to poke her tongue at the lunatic. Some limits she did not want to cross and without backup, she treaded cautiously. “Where is my niece?”
“What niece?” Leonardo smarted back. After meeting Bobby, Leonardo’s handsomeness wore off. Nothing like his father, who kindly stood beside her but out of the protection of the car door.
