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“Yes, they are. Thank you for the information,” said Mike as they turned to head out into the street.
“Oh, one more thing, boys. There was two Chinese fellas followin’ them. They were tryin’ to hide on the street, but there ain’t a whole lotta places to hide out there. Don’t know if they noticed it, but I sure did. Thought they was bein’ slick, but anybody watchin’ knew they were there.”
“Why?” asked Dan.
“Folks around here don’t usually wear black on black on black,” he smirked. “They were wearin’ black pants, black shirts, black shoes, hell they mighta’ been wearin’ black boxers for all I know. But it’s too damn hot and humid most days to wear all black.” Mike looked at the others, shaking his head.
“Black on black on black. Got it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Dan, Tobias, and I will head toward the Square,” said Mike. “The rest of you follow down Royal, and see what you find. Comms on at all times.”
Nodding, they split up into two groups and followed the path that they believed the men took. Knowing that one of the traits of the mafia was their stealth abilities, Mike, Nate, JB, and Tobias paid close attention, just like their grandfather taught them.
“If they’re following Omar and Farid, it’s because they don’t trust them,” said Mike.
“Or because they need them to find whatever it is they’re looking for,” said Dan. “I hate to think of what will happen to them if they don’t find what they want.”
Casually walking the streets but keeping a keen eye open, they would stop in front of antique stores and jewelry stores, looking for the men. Making their second pass around Jackson Square, Tobias tapped Mike’s arm.
“Three o’clock in the green shirt and brown jacket. Looks like our man Omar.” Mike nodded behind his sunglasses. Dan walked around the iron fence and through the gates of the Square, cutting in front of the massive statue of Andrew Jackson.
The Square had a rich and long history in New Orleans. Once housing soldiers before, during, and after the war, the Square was surrounded by the St. Louis Cathedral on one side, the river directly ahead, Baroness Pontalba apartments, and numerous shops and restaurants. Around the enclosed gates were artists, musicians, street performers, and palm readers.
None of that mattered to Dan. What mattered was getting to the man in front of him and questioning him. Just as he caught up to him, Mike and Tobias were coming toward him. Omar looked up, seeing the big men walking toward him. They weren’t Chinese, but that didn’t matter. He knew he was in deep shit.
He took off in a sprint down St. Ann, but he wasn’t fast enough to escape the three men. Trapped in a dead-end alleyway, he turned, shaking his head.
“We just want some answers,” said Mike.
“I’ll be dead before you touch me,” said the man.
“Why does Yun want the jewels?” asked Tobias. He stared at him, shocked that he knew that much. “We know he wants them, and we know why he’s been buying up the antiquities. It’s the wood. Why?”
“You have no idea what this man is capable of,” said Omar. “I just want to finish this and disappear.”
“You know that he won’t let you do that,” said JB. “He won’t let you just walk away. Not now.”
Omar crouched low as if trying to catch his breath. He knew he was outnumbered, and more importantly, outmanned. He wouldn’t survive this encounter or his next. But he also didn’t agree with what Yun was doing.
“It’s a weapon. He’s making a weapon.”
“What kind of weapon?” asked Mike.
They barely saw the man leap from the second-story fire escape. He landed directly behind Omar, the sickle-like blade cutting neatly across his throat. All three men drew their weapons, pointing them at the stealth man in front of them.
He smirked at them, then realized he had no way out. The fire escape ladder was too high for him to reach it. He was stuck in the alleyway with no options.
“Drop the weapon,” said Mike. “Ni huì shuo yingyu ma.” The man was surprised to hear him speak Chinese, asking if he spoke English.
“I speak many languages.”
“Drop your weapon. We just have some questions.”
He held up the kama, its blade still red from the blood of Omar. Touching it just below his left ear, he murmured something, then ripped it beneath his chin.
“Fuck!” muttered Tobias. “Where’s the other one? There were two.”
