Paul. “I wouldn’t believe anything Taggart says,” replied Damien.
“Who the fuck would? Can’t see him lyin’ to the other cops, though. This came through one of them. Someone they trust.”
“What whores was The Toad hanging out with?” asked Damien.
“None that I know of,” said Lance. “Him and the boys from Quebec kind of kept to themselves in that department.”
“I can’t believe this!” roared Damien. “What the hell is going on?”
“Maybe you’ll find out more when Carlos calls,” suggested Lance.
“Yeah, maybe ... but something stinks.”
An uneasy silence descended over the group as everyone’s eyes focused on the cellphone that Damien had placed on the patio table.
The sudden flurry of activity at Damien’s had not gone unnoticed by the Combined Forces Special Enforcement Unit. A hidden camera recording licence plates and the coming and going of vehicles relayed the information directly back to the CFSEU office. It didn’t take long before Cecil Hinds arrived with a surveillance team to watch.
A young woman slowly sauntered past Damien’s gate but continued to stroll for several more minutes before speaking into the transmitter hidden inside her sleeve.
“Go ahead, Nicole,” said Hinds. “What ya see?”
“Counted four moving around just inside the gate. Two had their hands inside their jackets. Pretty sure they’re packin’ heat. They’re paranoid. Really eyeballed me good and weren’t giving wolf whistles.”
“Heads up, people,” said Hinds. “In case any of you haven’t heard, two of these guys were found shot in a motel this morning. Looks like we might have a war. If you don’t have your vests on, put ’em on now!”
chapter twenty-six
Damien tried to force himself to be calm. Think! Don’t say anything to get them hurt any more than they already are. Keep your cool. He knew he was too terrified at the moment to express anger. That would come later.
The cell rang and vibrated on the patio table. Damien stared at it as it rang again. Sound calm ... don’t reveal what you think! On the third ring, he snatched it up.
“Damien, here.”
“Are you laughing now, Damien?” said Carlos, sounding facetious.
“I’m not laughing, Carlos. Why —”
“You think you can rob me? To spit in my face and be safe? No place in the world is safe for you!”
“I did not rob you! Why have you done this?”
“My men were robbed! You are the hombre responsible! It was your men!”
“I wasn’t even involved in —”
“Do not talk! You will listen!”
“Carlos, you don’t understand! I —”
“Your puta — that whore you call a wife — every time you speak at me now, she will lose something ... what you say ...”
Damien listened as Carlos spoke briefly in Spanish to someone in the background before continuing.
“She will lose something ... like her tit! Now you understand, gringo? Si or no?”
“Yes. Si!” replied Damien.
“Bueno! You listen. Now, business! I have decided to charge you only $7 million Canada and $3 Americano. That is what you owe me and I am honourable man. If you do not think your wife and girl are worth that, then shut up the phone now!”
Damien held the phone. The seconds that went by seemed like an eternity. Panic flooded his brain out of fear that there would be an accidental disconnection. Finally Carlos spoke again.
“On Monday, I will call. You will bring $3.5 million Canada to where I say. Any policia or any of your hombres go with you ... then we will find out how many parts your wife and girl can lose before she both dies. We also find out if your girl is old enough to enjoy a man. Do you understand me, Damien? You say now. Yes or no!”
“Yes.”
“On Wednesday, you will pay another $3.5 Canada. After, I tell you how you make last payment!”
The line went dead, but Damien hung onto the phone, too stunned to be bothered by the dial tone. Then he turned to his men. His voice was barely audible when he said, “Carlos didn’t get his money last night. Vicki ... Katie ... he will kill them if we don’t pay.”
“That fuckin’ bastard is dead!” yelled Rellik.
“He says we still owe him $3.5?” asked Lance. “How much time do we have?”
“He wants $7 million Canadian first, then a final payment of $3 mil U.S.”
“What!” roared Whiskey Jake. “We only owed him $3.5! And that’s if he didn’t already rip us off! Maybe he’s got The Toad on ice too!”
“If he had The Toad and the money, I can’t see why he would do this,” offered Damien, lamely. “He wants me to deliver $3.5 on Monday, then again on Wednesday. After that he’ll tell me when he wants the rest.”
“The extra money,” said Lance. “He’s charging us for the first boatload! The one the fucking DEA took down in San Diego!”
Damien’s brain was racing ahead to Monday. He pointed his finger at Whiskey Jake and Lance and said, “The dope from last night! Sell it fast!”
“We’ll never get the cash in time,” said Whiskey Jake.
“Give it away at cost!” said Damien. He clenched his teeth, causing the tendons in his neck to stand out. Then he said, “Just get the cash we need by Monday!”
Whiskey Jake’s voice showed his concern. “The load is worth over $20 million. Stall for a couple of weeks and we’ll have it all.”
Damien grabbed him by the front of the shirt with both hands and shook him like a dog with a rat and yelled, “There is no fucking stalling!” He then used one hand to grab Whiskey Jake by the crotch and yelled, “If Vicki loses any more parts, so will you! Understand?”
The look on Whiskey Jake’s face indicated he understood. Damien released his grip and his voice returned to a normal level but did not hide his deadly intention. “Get to work. Four strikers with Buck and Sarah at all times. I’m leaving.”
“Where are you —” Lance started to ask.
“None of your business,” replied Damien, as he ran into the house.
Jack was almost asleep when he received the phone call from Damien. Moments later, he rushed to the parking garage where his car was parked. There was no missing
