Chapter Eighteen
Headlights flashed bright, then dimmed—three times. The black truck responded to the signal. Without headlights, the truck entered the rutted gravel drive, hidden by overgrown brush. Only the rising southwest wind broke the night quiet.
The truck driver swore as sweat trickled beneath his camouflage padded clothing. He hated being hot. Damn southwest wind. Worse, he hated getting his spotless truck mud-splattered or dusty. Damn shitty road. Why the hell couldn’t the drop-off spot be somewhere else?
Near a deserted farm shack, he stopped the truck and shoved himself out into the warm night air. A luxury SUV and a short, skinny man in a dark suit waited for him.
“You got the shit?” the well-dressed man asked.
The truck driver grunted a response. He hated this banty rooster, acting like his shit smelled better than anyone else’s. “Under the truck—in the usual spot. What the hell you doing here? Playing errand boy? That’s not your usual gig.”
Knowing the banty rooster wouldn’t get dirty, he hunkered down and slid under his truck. He spotted the asshole’s soft leather shoes, no work boots for him. “Dumb ass shit,” he muttered under his breath, careful not to let the other man hear. He hated the guy, but loved his money.
With the caution of a master craftsman, he removed the box from his truck’s undercarriage and pulled himself back out. Why was he doing this while the rooster stood and watched? Hell, he didn’t want shit to happen to his truck. That’s why.
But why was the jerk here? Now, that was something to wonder about. Most times he left the package in the deserted shed.
“Good work, Ivan. In case you’re wondering why I’m here? I have a message for you.” As he talked, the banty rooster handed Ivan two plastic wrapped bundles and a roll of bills. “A major shipment comes in tomorrow. More than you can handle in the usual way. You know the department and its routine. The boss is depending on you to figure out how you can gain time to move the stuff. Get that lazy Maze to help if you can.” The rooster emptied the box and threw the bundles onto the seat of his vehicle.
“You think I can figure somethin’ to work out a problem? Thought you were the brains in this operation.” Ivan spit just missing those fancy-assed shoes. He opened the truck door and threw the packages and money on the leather seat. Finishing, he dropped to his back and scooted under the truck with the empty container.
“What about that Donnelly broad? Want me to forget about her, too?” Ivan growled as he replaced the box.
“Absolutely not. You didn’t scare her enough. You can figure out something else there, too.”
“That new guy, Rafferty? He sticks to her like a damn flea to a dog. In fact, he’s nosin’ around the plant way too much. He even gave Maze a shitload of trouble today.” Ivan pushed himself out from beneath the truck and lumbered to his feet. In a moment of neatness, he brushed twigs and dirt from his pants and shirt sleeves. “Can’t get my truck dirty.” He grinned at the rooster.
“Use your judgment about the bitch.” The skinny bastard opened the door to his SUV. “Just get the job done.”
“When’re you gonna take a few risks? Huh? With all the risks I take, maybe I deserve another bonus.” He spat out each word, tired of doing the dirty work and getting no respect.
“That’s what college and sitting in an office does, Ivan, in any business. I get the perks and the clean jobs. You get the shit. Now, figure out how you can get several hours of down time in shipping so you can move those goods tomorrow evening and get that damnable woman off my back! Deal with Rafferty however you choose.”
Ivan snarled like a predator caught in a trap.
The smaller man slid into his car. “Don’t threaten me. I’m more lethal than I look. Being here tonight is my risk. A substantial one. You remember that.”
“I’ll remember,” Ivan growled, figuring he’d get revenge later.
“Rafferty has stepped up security on your usual exit. You might want to finagle a parking spot close to the docks tomorrow night. Easier to move the stuff. Though I don’t like doing it, I’ll sign a pass for you to park there. You can pick it up before your shift.”
“Bout time you stuck your neck out.” Ivan rubbed his whiskered chin and stared at the prissy man giving him orders.
“My function is not to stick my neck out. We each have our roles.”
“Aww, sheettt...” Ivan spat again. He wanted a cigarette but his survival instinct told him not now.
Headlights on the road caught both men’s attention. Unexpected danger ratcheted the tension between them into higher gear. A car, well-tuned by the sound of its powerful engine, pulled off the road onto the rutted lane. Tension and foul sweat mingled with expensive cologne and hung between the two men. Ivan moved closer to his truck for a faster getaway.
The newcomer’s headlights blinked bright, then dimmed—three times. Immediately, the car switched off its lights and drove down the lane. Within seconds a limousine, black as the night surrounding it, reached the two men. A dark-suited man opened the passenger’s side front door. He acknowledged the two standing men with a nod and turned to open the back door of the limo.
The Boss.
“Hot damn.” Ivan watched a gym-toned, medium-tall man in his mid-fifties emerge from the limo. Gold jewelry adorned his fingers, wrists, neck and a honking big diamond in his left ear.
“I thought I should meet with you. Things are getting out of control at Northland. That’s not in our best interests.” His swarthy face displayed little friendliness. Neither did the jagged scar bisecting one cheek. Ivan looked at the rooster. Smart enough to be scared.
“What do you mean, Tony?” the rooster squealed.
“I follow orders,” Ivan responded.
The Boss smacked his fist against the side of Ivan’s truck at that answer. “I never ordered no beating of a security guard. Tell me how that will make it easier to move our product out of Northland tomorrow.” He looked pissed.
“What security guard? When?” The small man cringed at Tony’s controlled fury. “What the hell did you do now, you dumb shit?”
Defensive, Ivan widened his stance. “How’d you find out about that? It only happened a few hours ago. Shit, it wasn’t planned, but that interferin’ old fart asked for it. Stickin’ his nose into business he shouldn’t care about. Always gettin’ in my way. A real pain in my ass.”
“How did you find out, Tony?” The rooster didn’t look so scared now.
“I got my sources. The thing is you numbskulls gotta be careful. Don’t foul up this operation. I spent too much time planning and making connections. I ain’t ready to back off this operation. Got it?”
Both men nodded.
“Then remember it. We’re all makin’ good money here. I intend to continue, but I get rid of screw-ups, real fast. It’s easy to replace them with more careful help,” Tony hissed the last and stared at Ivan and the rooster.
Ivan cracked his knuckles, pissed about the wrinkle in the side of his truck. He heard the rooster catch his breath. Probably pissing himself right now.
Nothing scared Ivan. He could take care of himself. Against anybody or anything. Even Tony and his muscle.
Tony pointed to the smaller man. “You—get your ass outta here. Keep your lights off even on the road. For a mile. Got it? And no more changin’ plans—like tonight.”
“Yes, sir, Tony.” The man scrambled into his SUV and took off faster’n a hound after a rabbit.
The Boss watched the departure. Disgust hardened his face as he turned to Ivan. “Not smart. What you did to the guard tonight. Planning, Ivan, planning’s key. You gotta remember that. You upset me again, well…” Tony shrugged his shoulders and made a hand gesture that indicated a shortened life span.
“The guard didn’t get a look at me. If he pulls through, I’m losin’ my touch. Want me to finish him off?”
“That’s too risky, but if he fingers you, you’re dead. Just like Stein. He got stupid, too.”
“Stein’s dead?” For the first time, he felt fear—for himself. Tony got off on pain. “How’d that happen?”
“Hah, how do ya think? You ain’t the only muscle I got workin’ for me. If you think that, you’re wrong, dead wrong. Watch your actions and your back. Better yet, impress me. Make my life easier.” Tony turned from Ivan and disappeared into his limo.
The black-suited man stepped from the shadows and closed the door with a hushed click. He turned to Ivan. “You been warned, asshole. Any more screwups and they’ll be your last.” The suited man moved toward the other side of the limo, opened the door, and entered the front passenger seat. Like a hunting shark, the limo moved off, leaving Ivan alone in the dark.
An owl hooted in the bare-limbed trees a short distance from his truck. He hated owls. The birds creeped him out. “Stein’s dead,” he mumbled as he hoisted himself into his truck. He put the key into the ignition and heard the motor growl to life.
Watch his back? Impress him? He grinned. He’d impress Tony all right. With something pure Godfather. He’d make damn sure to get off from whatever he did. He maneuvered the rutted lane and headed onto the road.
To be safe he kept his lights off for a mile.
Tony Muro. The Boss. A man to respect.