Page 13 of The Perfect Stranger

Chapter Four

Los Santos. I knew of them. Their story had circulated well. The media had run the events and aftermath of the bloodied battle for years. The Saints were a rival cartel of the infamous Florez cartel. In their shadows was the Baja California cartel, who while small time, had great ambitions. When word spread of a drug trade between the shores of Mexico and Cuba, it was fair game. The Baja didn’t have the strength or men to take on the Florez cartel alone. What they did have, though, was a plan. A plan that with the right backing, could lead to the biggest haul of them all. A plan that appealed very much to the likes of Luis Rodriguez Santos, Los Santos drug lord. For the first time ever, Baja and Santos put their quarrels aside and joined forces to intercept and commandeer the yacht full of coke, as well as collect the hefty sum of drug money waiting in Cuba. It was a double whammy and a brave one to piss off the Florez cartel.

Santos planted his only son, Xavier, among the Florez employee’s and to befriend the courier. It worked. Until it didn’t. It was Santo’s greatest mistake and one he would pay for dearly.

Juan and Hector Florez were not only ruthless but they had eyes everywhere. The operation the media deemed “el engaño” quickly dissolved into chaos when word of the deception reached the ears of the Florez cartel. Off the coast of Cuba, the yacht and everyone on it went up in smoke. Xavier Santos was fatally shot. The men from both Baja and Los Santos never made it back with either the drugs or money. It was a fuck-up of monumental proportions. The only one who benefited was the Florez cartel who walked away with one hundred million dollars, of premium cocaine and the money to go with it. They had scored, while the others licked their wounds and mourned for their family. It also set a fine warning to the other cartels that the Florez empire was untouchable.

Although he had lost his only son, Xavier, Luis Santos still made headlines throughout the Americas. He had appointed a new heir to his throne. Gabriel, his nephew, was creating quite the name for himself living up to his uncle’s expectations. This meant that Gabriel’s behavior went from what was already considered bad to shockingly sadistic. Together, the two Santos men were picking up the pace and they had vengeance in their eyes. Now it seemed, they had my father and his coca production in their sights.

Throwing the take-out boxes in the trash, I watched as Josiah and Arturo fell asleep on the sofas.

Tomorrow I would fly out to Colombia.

“Zero?”

“What’s up, bro? It’s still dark out.” His raspy voice told me he was still in bed. I hadn’t made it to my own. Instead, I was plagued with images of a boy being pelted with bullets from my own weapon, and grief knowing my father and the people of my birthplace were slowly being eradicated.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” I was. “I have a favor to ask, but it can’t go any further.”

“Makes it hard to agree to if you ain’t gonna tell me what it is first.”

“I need your help with acquiring a range of weapons.”

“I thought you’re on leave. I haven’t been told about the next job.”

“That’s because it’s not for the agency. It’s a private matter.”

There was a pause. “Private as in private, private?”

“Yes.”

“Is it legal?”

“No.”

“I’m in.”

My next call was to Jase.

I needed a wingman, and I knew Jase would be keen for another adventure.

“Yo,” he answered sounding groggy. Before I could greet him in turn, a pained groan sounded. “Give me a second…”

I couldn’t help but grin when he vomited twice before returning to the call.

“Yeah?” He sounded worse.

“When did you get home?”

“Half hour ago. You sound pretty shit yourself.”

No doubt, but for entirely different reasons.

For the next ten minutes, I filled Jase in about how my night had progressed once I’d left him.

“So, I need someone next to me who I know will have my back.”

“Fuck me,” he responded in disbelief. “That’s some fucked up shit, man. Like I’m talking, more fucked up than what we’ve ever seen or done.”

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