Page 4 of Conquering Oz

“Gotta run. Talk to you tomorrow.” Elodie opened the door and walked out. Madalyn followed but remained on the porch. Elodie had just unlocked her car in the driveway when Madalyn called her name.

“Elle?”

She peered over her shoulder.

Madalyn folded her arms and leaned against the porch railing. “You know what I found odd about this guy? For everything he was accused of, he never saw the inside of a courtroom. Charges were always dropped for insufficient evidence.” Madalyn chuckled, shaking her head. “Either this guyhas the worst luck on the planet, or he’sthatgood at making shit go away.”

A shiver shot up Elodie’s spine, and her heart pounded as she stared back at her friend.

Sal Caruso is that good.

****

Bloody death had a very distinctive scent, coppery and pungent. For most people, it tickled the nose and forced the throat to constrict and spasm, usually bringing up whatever was in the stomach. It was a reflexive response to the odor and taste, combined with the scene. This would be someone’s worst nightmare. The kind of visual that would haunt them for the remainder of their lives.

For Lorenzo “Oz” Scavo, it was just another night in the Underground. He’d been in this life for so long, he was rarely fazed by anything. Not the blood, the death, and certainly not a man begging for mercy. Every action came with a consequence. A lesson these men were learning in real time.

Oz circled the room, glancing over at the lifeless bodies. Two men were sprawled out on the ground, another slouched against the wall, eyes wide open. There were gaping holes in all their heads and thick blood pooling and spreading across the concrete in the abandoned building. Most people witnessing the display would be shuddering, forced to look away only seconds before they were hunched over, vomiting.

Not Oz.

He had acquired an immunity decades earlier. It was a pretty simple technique.Mind over matter.A strong enough person would use their brain against their senses instead of using it in conjunction. Oz glanced across the darkened room at his men. Loyal, lethal, and honorable in their own right. Oz had personally selected each man. The strongest, the elite in theUnderground. It was imperative they were the best of the best. Oz didn’t tolerate anything less.

Seven members of security lined the perimeter of the room. Their expressions mirrored his own. Emotionless. They’d been trained well.

Oz shifted his gaze to the center of the room.The last man standing.Or in his case, kneeling. He was bleeding from so many sites it was hard to see his actual wounds. His hands were clasped, resting on his thighs, though he wasn’t cuffed or bound. Praying, maybe? Oz scoffed at the thought.God doesn’t hear men like you.It always fascinated him how the people he dealt with, murderers, thieves, dealers, and the lowest of the lows deemed by society, were so quick to give penance when their own lives were at stake. It was a cowardly, desperate move and one Oz wouldn’t practice when it was his time. He’d take whatever was dealt, knowing he’d deserve it. He would never deny the demons and devil inside him.I’m not a good man.

Oz eyed the product lined up against the wall. A vast aggregation of drugs. Thousands of dollars in transport. His men had unloaded the shipment to the abandoned warehouse. It was as if they’d put it on display, showcasing the men’s grave mistake. It was a nice touch and one Oz respected. It was almost poetic, possibly symbolic. This was what they were dying for.Was it worth it?

The Underground had strict rules that everyone was expected to abide by. There weren’t exceptions for any associates. The Underground didn’t play favorites, allow concessions, or show mercy. It was how it’d always been, even long before Oz took over as king. Their rules were meant to be followed. Anyone willing to veer off course was met with consequences and a singular punishment.

Oz circled the room, shifting his eyes between the product and the man centered on the floor.

Drugs, guns, and ammunition were considered high-risk transfers for every state and every dealer. It was the reason, as a courtesy, everyone running a state should have knowledge of what was being transported. Even if it wasn’t directly tied to Oz. If they’d gotten pulled over and checked, the authorities would know there was a transport line through his state. It meant the Underground would hit the police’s radar, and then they’d be watching. That would’ve hindered Oz’s business and put them all in jeopardy.Unacceptable.

As it stood, Oz wouldn’t have given permission had he been asked. These men weren’t trained well enough for him to take the risk. Even if they had been, it was customary to be compensated for allowing the passage. Oz had not been. Everything about this transport had screamed inexperienced, indulgent, and most importantly, disrespectful. This wasnothow the Underground operated.

They were a well-organized illegal enterprise. There were rules, protocol, and expectations with little room for error.And you fucked-up.

Ridge and Cyrus, two members of his direct security, stood across the room near the door. All the security worked under Oz, but he had hand selected a few men to work exclusively for him. They’d been vetted and showed their loyalty and commitment to the Underground. And they’d come highly recommended.Cam’s crew.There were very few people Oz had taken under advisement. It made sense since he only trusted a select few.But her?Camille had been spot on. Aside from Nash, they were the closest to him on the team, along with Caine serving as lead. They’d all been in the Underground most of their adult life and came to Oz indebted for different reasons. Solid, trustworthy, and deadly warriors committed to the Underground. And Oz.

Oz stopped in front of the man. His head was bowed, and his clothes were drenched in his own blood. He’d taken quite thebeating. Deservedly. Oz lifted his chin, and Ridge stepped closer, sidling up beside him and lowering his voice.

“We searched the van and found the transport, along with about thirty-two thousand in cash.” Ridge straightened. “If I had to take a guess, I’d say it was heading south to Polinski.”

Oz gave a sharp nod. He’d worked with every dealer in the surrounding states. There’d never been an issue. It was always a flawless transfer when everyone was in agreement and worked within the boundaries. But something had gone awry.

Oz lifted his chin, gesturing to the man. “Who does he run with?”

“Garner,” Ridge said.

He had a long standing and amicable relationship with Ted Garner. He was one of the biggest dealers moving product through the state. There’d never been an issue—until now. Oz cupped his jaw, running his fingers through his neatly-trimmed beard and eyeing the man. A casualty of a botched deal.But it’s the price you pay for taking the risk.

Oz folded his arms, glancing over at Ridge. The Underground had done transfers with Garner for over a decade without issue. Something was off.

“Garner set this deal up?”

Ridge cleared his throat. “Don’t know about the distribution, but his nephew, Karl, can be linked back to the sales. They gave him up.”

---