it done,” Lorenzo said, and then left the room.
Finally on his own, Cameron stared at the phone. Make the fucking call, he told himself. What the hell is José Calvera going to do? Sue me? He smiled at his own joke, reached out to tap in the number and waited for the call to be picked up.
The moment Calvera picked up and spoke, Cameron knew the bad news had already reached him. His Hispanic temperament always got the better of him, and he launched into a loud rant over the delay in getting his order. Cameron allowed the man to get it out of his system.
“I got a fuckin’ street war in the making,” Calvera concluded. “You know the score here. The federales are hitting us hard. Our rival cartels are bustin’ my cojones trying to take over. I want my boys armed so they don’t get wiped out on the first day. You promised me, Lou. Now you tell me my delivery is delayed because you got some shit happening in Chicago.”
“This thing kind of held me up. I need to calm things down for a day or two. Let me handle it, José, and I’ll have your stuff on the way soon as possible.”
“Don’t let me down. If I get angry over this, we are going to have our own war. Do you understand me, amigo?”
“José, take a breath. You’ll get your stuff soon enough. You know that. I honor my deals. All I ask is a couple more days and you’ll have your consignment. I’ll even throw in a few extra items as compensation for your trouble. Is that fair?”
Slightly mollified, Calvera grunted in agreement.
“So what happened?”
“Some kind of screwup with merchandise. I’ve got my hands full sorting it out. My crew boss in Chicago fucked up, so Tony Lorenzo is on his way there. He’s the new boss. The other guy is out.”
Calvera chuckled. “Hey, this is me you’re talking to, Lou. I already heard about the problem in Chicago. Screwup with merchandise? You got hit, and your weapons were blown to hell. Tell me I’m wrong, amigo.”
“José, nothing gets by you, huh? Yeah, I got hit. Miami, too. So things are a little crazy at the moment.”
“Who is responsible?” Calvera asked.
“As of yet I have no idea. The smoke has hardly had time to settle, but I’m going to find out.”
“Maybe you have a new player trying to move in on your territory,” Calvera said.
“Anything is possible, Jose. What’s certain is the son of a bitch who did this will be more than sorry he screwed with Louis Cameron.”
“Maybe he doesn’t realize who you are.”
“I’m about to change that,” Cameron stated.
“So I hear from you soon? Sí?”
“Muy pronto, mi amigo.”
Cameron cut the call and sat back. He didn’t even look up when the door opened and someone stepped into the room and crossed to his desk. He knew who his visitor was. The familiar drag of one foot against the floor told him it was Nathan, his younger brother.
“I can quote you down to the last dime how much that Chicago mess cost us,” Nathan said. “I’ve just been working it out.”
Cameron had to smile. Only Nathan could do that, work out the potential loss to the final dot.
“Little bro,” he said, “I just knew you’d come up with something like that.”
“Yeah, well, it isn’t like I have a lot else to do.”
Nathan eased himself into one of the chairs by the desk. At twenty-nine he was five years younger than his brother, whip thin, with dark good looks, his hair worn shoulder length. He dressed well and expensively. His left leg was thrust out stiffly, and his lips tightened in reaction to the ache that never seemed to fully go away. The leg had been badly damaged in the aftermath of a horrific auto accident when he was eighteen. Five people had died in the crash, the result of a head-on collision on the local highway. Nathan, a passenger, had been cut from the wreck after three hours. He had been the only survivor. Despite the surgery that saved his leg, he was left disabled and in pain that came and went. No amount of aftercare restored the damaged limb. But Nathan endured because he had no choice. He’d turned to drugs to dull the pain and might have succumbed all the way if his brother had not stepped in. Lou’s intervention kept his younger brother from losing it completely. He brought him into the organization and put him in charge of running the financial side of the business. Nathan had a natural aptitude for money matters, and he had never taken a wrong step when it came to organizing the cash flow.
“Hey, bro, how are we feeling today?”
Nathan massaged his leg. “Kicked off this morning and won’t let up,” he said. “Hey, I know you got problems. I don’t want to make a fuss.”
“You’ll have me crying in a minute,” Lou said, his tone light as he chided his brother.
“You’re a mean mother.”
“That’s me,” Lou said with a big grin. “So, am I going to need to sell off one of my cars to make up the loss?”
“That would make you cry. The money is just a drop in the pool, but what the fuck is going on, Lou? Who did this to us?”
“I have no idea—yet.”
“Story I heard is Bella figured it was one guy.”
“That’s what we’ve got.”
“That’s crazy,” Nathan said. “He has to be good if he took out the whole crew. Hey, what about Newark? Don’t we have a shipment being handled there as we speak? Another order for Poliokof? Is he still pissed because he didn’t get his weapons on time?”
“Poliokof isn’t our only deal. That freakin’ Russian needs to cool down. The world doesn’t spin on his say-so. A few machine guns are late and he blows his top. But Bella didn’t help matters by getting all mouthy with him.”
“What’s this I hear about Bertolli vanishing from his office?”
Cameron shrugged. “Yeah, that’s weird. I have people looking for him.”
“You did make Costanza realize he needs to stay sharp?”
Lou nodded. “He already knows to step up security.”
“It’d be a good move to do the same here. Tighten up. Maybe have a word with Torrance, as well.”
“Our good local sheriff is on his way right now.”
“Make him remember we aren’t paying him just to sit on his bony ass.”
“He already knows that,” Lou said.
“Make him remember even harder.”
Lou smiled. “Okay, just quit playing hardball with me.”
“I have to keep up my tough-guy image,”
