Duty Bound (1995) (2 page)

"Yeah, and the vig."

Ramon drummed his fingers again. "You hooked up, man?

If you're connected, I'm a dead man if I work for you."

"Come on, Ramon, do I look like a wise guy to you? You think if I was a guinea I'd be showin' my face here in Little Havana? I know the rules. I'm an independent who has friends is all. Are you in or out?"

Ramon lowered his head a long moment before looking at the big man. "I'll do it, man, but give me room. . . . If it feels wrong, I don't do the op." Ramon extended his finger and touched his forehead. "I can feel it, man, right here. I know when it feels right and I know when it's fucked up."

Ted took a wad of bills from his pants pocket and set it on the table. "This ought to feel right to you. There's a card attached to the first bill. Be at the address on the card in two days at 1000 hours. Use the money to buy yourself some wheels and some new clothes . . . no shiny shit, no pointed shoes, and lose the ponytail and fake Rolex. You're goin' to be with the best, so I want you to look it. And Ramon, be there or my people will come lookin' for you. Like I said, they're the best."

Ramon shrugged as he looked up from the money. "No sweat, man. And it isn't a Glock; it's a Beretta. Mama would have gotten at least three bills."

Ted drove his rental car into a South Miami marina parking lot and turned off the ignition. He got out and walked to the B pier, looking for his ride. Just as he stepped on the wood planks, two men stepped off a cigarette boat and gave him hold it right there looks.

Ted stopped, and a man came up behind him and said, "You're late."

Ted shrugged. "Traffic was bad."

"Yeah, I know; my guys been followin' you to make sure ya didn't pick up any tails. You ready?"

"Yeah, let's do it," Ted said.

Minutes later Ted was staring at his white knuckles as the cigarette boat bounced across Biscayne Bay, heading for the Atlantic. Christ'a'mighty, this ain't fun, he thought. In Miami Vice it always looked like those guys skimmed over the water, but we sure as hell ain't skimmin'. Oh man, my stomach can't take this.

Finally the sleek craft slowed and made a wide turn. The man who had escorted Ted aboard lifted binoculars and scanned back toward the distant shore. A full minute passed before he lowered his glasses and spoke to the man behind the wheel. "It's clear. Tell him we're on the way."

The driver increased power again and spoke into a handheld radio. Ted braced himself for another pounding, but this time the boat did skim as it headed due south.

Five minutes later the cigarette boat came alongside a large Baycraft pleasure cruiser. Ted saw his old friend on the deck and raised his hand.

"Permission to come aboard."

The smiling, dark-haired man lifted his hand, holding a Heineken. "Come on, Teddy. You want a beer?"

Ted grabbed hold of the starboard ladder. "Have I ever turned down a beer, Gee?"

Vincent Genesse handed his old friend a bottle of Heineken as soon as Ted joined him on the deck. "Here ya go, Teddy. . . . You got your replacements yet?"

Ted glanced at the two bodyguards standing behind his former teammate. "You know the deal, Gee. I don't discuss business with your guys around."

Genesse motioned toward the cruiser's cabin. "Tommy, you and Al check out what's on the movie channel, huh."

Both men gave Ted screw you looks before slowly making their way to the cabin door.

Ted lifted an eyebrow. "Your guys need an attitude adjustment, Gee. You should train 'em to snap to attention and do what ya say without the looks."

"They're civilians, Ted, what'd ya expect? So you get a crew together?"

"Yeah, Gee, I got 'em. Thanks for the info on the little Cuban ex-Ranger; he worked out."

"No sweat. Too bad about the boys you lost. I'm sorry, buddy."

"Thanks, Gee . . . but you didn't want to see me just to give me your condolences. What's up?"

Genesse gestured to the cushioned seats. "Sit down, Teddy; we have to talk about the op. Some things have happened recently . . . the situation has changed."

Ted's face hardened. "What d'ya mean, changed?"

"Relax, Teddy, my boss isn't going to back out on you. In fact he wants to make you a better offer. Sit down, will ya?"

Ted took a seat but kept a hard stare on his friend. "He don't make 'better offers' unless he wants somethin' in return."

Genesse took a sip of beer and leaned back in his seat.

"Look, Teddy, you came to me six months ago wantin' help to get Mendez. I told you then what you wanted was impossible and--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what ya said," Ted said impatiently.

"Ya told me you guys had an agreement with the Latinos and ya couldn't do anything."

"But I did help you, didn't I, Teddy? I wanted that bastard as much as you for what he did to us.. .. I talked to the boss for you. He let me use some people to do some checking, and I found out about Mendez's laundering operation in Georgia.

I knew it wasn't what you really wanted, but takin' a big score off Mendez was the next best thing ... until now."

The hair on the back of Ted's neck stood up. "What are you sayin', Gee? Your boss goin' to help me get him now?"

Genesse leaned forward. "Teddy, we got real lucky last week. Call it fate, call it luck, but it looks like you're gonna get what ya want after all--a chance at Mendez."

"Keep talkin'; I'm listenin'."

"Look, Teddy, what I'm about to tell you will get us both popped if word gets out, you understand?"

"Come on, Gee, you're talkin' to me, here."

"Teddy, Mendez had him a honey on the side, a real looker. He played house with her on his yacht, and when his ol' lady was away he'd even take this babe to his estate to keep his bed warm. It was a nice arrangement for almost a year. Then last week Mendez tells her next time they meet he's goin' to have another babe join them to double the fun.

Problem is, the looker isn't into that and says no way. Big mistake. Mendez tells her if she wants to keep her benefits she better play and love it. She sees she's in big trouble and tells him she'll love it. She lied. To make a long story short, the looker gets real scared and takes off. And guess what?"

Ted set down his beer bottle. "You got her."

"Yeah, it was a pure luck thing, but we got her. She went to the cops for protection. . . . Lucky for us it was a couple of guys we help out now and then."

"So because you got Mendez's broad, your boss changed his mind?"

"Ted, we've got the mother lode in this babe. She's no dummy; she kept her ears open when with Mendez. We now know Mendez goes to his yacht like clockwork to get his jollies off every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evening.

We also now know how many security people he has with him and where they're stationed. What I'm sayin' is, with this info we can get the bastard, and Ted, you're the man who can do it."

"Me? Wait a minute. We had a deal that I was going to score three million off Mendez. Are you tellin' me that's off and now you're goin' to help me pop him?"

Genesse smiled. "Teddy, I'm sayin' you can do both .. . score the money and take him out. The broad is going to help you."

"The broad? Are you shittin' me?"

"If you want Mendez you're goin' to need her."

"What is this, Gee? You're not tellin' me everything. Six months ago ya told me there was no way your boss would help me whack the bastard. Now all of a sudden he gives me a green light just because you got his bimbo? Uh-uh, I don't think so--you guys been watchin' Mendez and know his schedule. What's really going on here?"

Genesse sighed. "Okay, Teddy, I'll level with you. You're right, there is something else. Mendez is expanding his legit business here in town. Pretty soon the bastard will be steppin' on our toes. He's crossin' the line, Teddy. He's goin' to be usin' Latino construction and labor crews and keepin' our unions out. The boss can't let him do that. Mendez has to go. The problem is, we can't be involved in it. If the Latinos found out we contracted the hit on one of their big players, there'd be a war. And Teddy, you know we can't have that. We have to stay out of it. . . . You'll be on your own."

Ted shook his head in disbelief. "Wait a minute . . . ya want me to take him out but you guys aren't goin' to help?"

"Teddy, you'll have the woman, who will tell you everything you need to know to get him, and I've already arranged through third parties all the weapons and equipment you'll need. It's the best, but that's it; I can't do any more. The boss has put me in charge of this--nobody else in the organization knows. When you make the score and the hit, we've got to be clean. Nothing can be traced back to us. Not even a rumor."

"What about the money?" Ted asked. "You guys wanted half the take, remember?"

"You get it all, Teddy. We can't risk taking his cash. Once you make the score, Mendez will go ballistic: to a player like him, stealin' his money is worse than catchin' you screwin' his wife in his bed; it's the ultimate insult. All his people will be on the street, willing to pay big bucks to anyone who will rat out the crew that did it. We'll be suspected first. He'll find nothing because there's nobody who knows about this."

Ted studied his friend's face a moment. "You guys were the ones who were settin' up the score for me. How am I goin' to do it if I don't know how it's goin' to go down?"

"The broad, Teddy. Like I told you, she's smart, and the important thing is, she knows computers. I have a computer geek who briefed her on all the details of the score. The geek says she's good to go."

"Christ'a'mighty, Gee, you told the bimbo about our score? You trust her that much?"

"Ted, she knows she'd be dead if we hadn't stepped in and helped her. This op is her only chance to live a normal life. With her split of the take, she can disappear for a long time. Anyway, it's the only way it can be done to keep us out of it. The setup of the score is complicated, and you gotta have her to do it."

"Give me the geek, Gee."

"Can't do that. He runs our sport-book spreadsheets-- we're modernizing, Ted. The guy is a genius and we can't afford to lose him. Hey, trust me, the broad knows what she's doin'."

Ted lowered his head. "Looks like I don't have any choice . . . but I got a problem. I hired the new guys for a score, not a hit. I gotta find out if they want in--and if they do, I got to get 'em trained and up to speed."

Genesse smiled. "Ted, you were the best platoon leader the SEALs ever had--you'll get them up to speed. And remember, the score is now six million; they'll want in."

Raising his head, Ted frowned. "I'll talk to 'em and see.

What else I need to know, Gee?"

Genesse picked up a thick manila folder from a side table.

"In here are pictures of his yacht and blueprints we got from the company that made it. You also got maps and directions to two safe houses for when you come to town to do Mendez. The keys to the houses are in here, and there's a hundred grand for expenses, plus there's a new ID in there for you with the name Ted Wilson. Weapons and gear have already been shipped in care of the broad."

Genesse handed Ted the folder and took out an envelope from his pocket. "This is the address where the woman is.

We got her out of here a couple of days ago and put her in a house near Lake Lanier, only about twenty minutes from your place. Third parties set it up, Ted, so you've got to stic to a cover. The story is, she's hiding out from her husband till the divorce comes through. Her name is Bonita Rogers, but the name she's using is Linda Stone. She's got a live-in maid and a local security guy who keeps her protected.

You're a P. I. by the name of Ted Wilson and you've been hired by her to keep tabs on her soon-to-be ex. Use the new ID and buy yourself a car to look the part. She's expecting to see you as soon as you fly back into Atlanta."

Ted accepted the envelope but shook his head. "Jesus Christ, Gee, you sound like the CIA."

"I'm tryin' to keep her alive, Ted. Mendez has his people out searching for her. Look, this is it. After you leave, we don't see each other again for a long, long time. It's begun--I don't know you and I don't know about anything that's going on; we're out of it. If something happens and the op goes sour, you're on your own. If you get caught and gotta talk, tell 'em the broad is the one who hired you. She's the fall guy in this, you understand?"

"She know she's the one whose goin' to take the heat?"

"She knows if it goes bad she's dead anyway. She can't hurt us if she sings . . . she can only give up the two cops and two of my boys that I've already moved to Vegas."

"What about the geek? She could give him up."

"We keep him away from us . . . he's too weird. They can't make the connection to us, so we're covered."

Ted walked to the railing and looked out at swells. A long moment passed before he faced his friend again. "I want him, Gee. I've dreamed of nothin' else . . . the money doesn't matter to me; it's him I want."

Genesse set his beer bottle down and stood. "Teddy, I made you the offer because the boss wanted me to. I love you like a brother. I don't want you to accept the deal unless you think you can do it and get out in one piece. Mendez has to go one way or another. If you don't do it, we'll find an independent who's dumb enough to try. I want that son of a bitch as much as you do. I still dream of that fuckin' night. I can't get the screams out of my head, Teddy. I still hear the screams."