Chapter Five
The next morning I got up early and wrapped my shoulder in a fresh bandage. It still ached and I couldn't move my arm very well, but the screaming fire was gone. It would have to do. I would be dead within hours of checking into a hospital.
I called Sofia on a burner phone. It went how I expected.
"Breakfast is ready!" I called upstairs. A few minutes later Brooke stomped grumpily down the steps. She wasn't a morning person. Leah glided down and gave me a kiss on the cheek before settling into a chair at the table. She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, and I tried not to notice that she wasn't wearing a bra.
I stacked a tall pile of blueberry pancakes on the table next to a plate of cheesy scrambled eggs. We each dug in and didn't speak for a while.
Eventually I said, "I talked to Carlos' boss this morning." Two sets of eyes looked up at me sharply. "If we can pull this off we're in the clear. If we can't, well. We'll need to make other arrangements. Carlos was middle management, the most redundant position in the business world. He'll be replaced quickly. He wasn't well-liked, but it's not good for morale if someone on your team disappears and you don't do anything about it. She'll have to make a move unless this provides opportunities for others to advance."
I didn't know Sofia very well. We had only spoken a few times, most of my communications having gone through Carlos. She had a reputation for being a bold leader and a cut-throat pragmatist. A rumor went around about how she had her cousin killed for selling product near a school. I didn't know if her issue was with the morality of dealing to kids, or the fact that the cops cracked down on that a lot harder.
"Don't they need you to manage the money?" Brooke asked.
"They need someone to," I agreed. "But I'm not the only accountant. I checked this morning and the passwords to all the accounts were already changed. I have enough stashed away that we could get by if we have to, but it wouldn't be my first choice."
We spent the rest of the morning and afternoon hanging around the house while we waited for the meeting with Felix later. My grandparents didn't have cable, but I found an old TV with bunny ears and found a handful of fuzzy channels. Leah laid on the couch, her feet in my lap, and we made a few jokes about the shows. But it wasn't the same. There was a sense of unease hanging over us while we waited for the evening to come.
Eventually, it did.
Brooke wore a black turtleneck sweater to cover the bruises on her throat. Mine couldn't be helped. Leah had on a hooded sweatshirt and a baseball hat, her ponytail hanging out the back. She would be our way out in case things went to shit. We pulled out of the driveway as the sun was setting. The glare made it hard for Brooke to drive at first, but before long the sun fell below the horizon and dusk approached.
The car eventually slowed around the outskirts of eastern Buffalo and we entered an old industrial complex. A chain-linked fence topped with looping razor wire surrounded the perimeter. At one time it was probably useful in keeping people out. Now long sections were knocked over or cut open. Weeds grew up through webbed cracks in the pavement and most of the windows in the buildings were broken. Graffiti covered the walls. This place clearly hadn't been used in years.
At one opening a man waved us forward. He stepped in front of the car, forcing us to stop. He wore a leather jacket and had an automatic rifle slung behind one shoulder. Black hair hung to his shoulders. A car was parked nearby, the engine running. Carrying automatic weapons out in the open like this was bold. He knocked on the window, which Brooke lowered.
He leaned down and looked first at her, then me, then back at Leah. He grunted and nodded for us to move on.
We continued through the grid of streets, stopping at each intersection every hundred feet or so. This place was like a small city. We checked both ways before continuing even though there was no sign of other cars. Enormous white tanks rose high into the air, taking up most of every third block. Steps spiraled along the outside of the tanks from ground to roof.
"This is a big operation," I said, breaking the tension.
"I've never been here before," Brooke answered. "Usually I meet Felix behind an old restaurant his family owns. I guess this is more fitting for the boss."
Leah asked, "Do you have something like this?"
"Not centralized like this," I said as we stopped at one of the intersections. "We don't want such a big footprint. Although I see now that it has its uses." I imagined being able to openly control this wide of an area on the outskirts of a major city meant processing would be fast and efficient. It was also likely that some of the police were on their payroll.
Two blocks later we saw the first signs of life since the man at the gate. Figures were standing along the perimeter of a large warehouse. They each held rifles slung behind their backs. Two more were stationed on either side of a set of double doors. These two were empty handed.
We parked in front of the warehouse, and Brooke and I walked up to the doors while Leah climbed into the front seat. The men waiting here eyed us. I was wrong, the lumps in their suit jackets gave away the fact that they were carrying. The first patted me down and I winced when he raised my arm while the second man watched. I couldn't tell if he noticed my pain. Then he did the same to Brooke. He grunted and knocked three times on the door before pushing it open.
The room was brightly lit and I tried not to squint while my eyes adjusted from the darkness outside. The floor was cold concrete, and steel rafters were exposed high against the ceiling. Black metal catwalks ran along the walls, one for each story of the building's height. The walls were brick until about ten feet off the floor, where huge windows dominated the space. Not a single pane in these windows was broken, and you could see the lights of Buffalo's skyline twinkling in the night. This was probably an old factory at one point.
A tan man in his thirties approached. He wore a leather jacket and had black, slicked-back hair. "Brooke," he smiled. "How nice to see you."
"Hey Felix," Brooke answered.
He held her hands and kissed her on each cheek. "And you must be Matt. Nice to meet you." We shook hands but I didn't offer any pleasantries. After our meeting with Carlos I was immune to his friendliness. "Come have a seat."
As we walked to where another group waited, Felix lowered his voice. "I heard about your accident. I'm glad you're okay. It's good you reached out, we were worried you were seriously hurt."
"Just a few bumps and bruises. It's good to know you were concerned for my well-being."
We arrived at a large table. Three men sat on the other side, each had long black hair and wore expensive suits. Necklaces, rings, and earrings decorated their hands and faces. The man in the center stood first, followed by the others at his sides. His hair was tied back in a pony tail and there were deep lines in his leathery face.
"You must be Matt. And of course we know Brooke." His voice was raspy. "Have a seat." He gestured to two steel folding chairs across from him. He sat first and the rest of us followed. "You look like you've been in a fight, Matt."
"You should see the other guy." The others at the table chuckled, but stopped when the man in the center ignored my comment. "Sorry, I didn't catch your names," I said.
"Gabriel Sanabria. This is my brother Antonio," he gestured to the man on his right. "And Mateo has been with me from the beginning," he said as he nodded to the man on his left.
"Gabriel, Antonio, Mateo," I said to each in turn. "Thank you for taking this meeting, I know you're all busy. After Brooke's accident I'm sure you were curious how she was released so quickly when a woman was killed." They were silent, so I continued. "I work for the Medina family. We operate primarily in the south. Florida, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona. Our operation is growing and we're looking for new partners to work with. Brooke and I have known each other for some time, and we recently started discussing a potential opportunity that could be profitable for both of us. We found it prudent to help her."
Gabriel looked us both up and down before speaking. "Medina, you say. You speak for them?"
I shook my head. "Nobody speaks for Sofia. But she personally tasked me with finding a way to make this work."
He nodded. "I know the name. You have a reputation. But you can understand why I would be concerned about you moving north. To my home."
"Of course," I agreed. "But let me assure you that we have no intention of starting any sort of conflict. You say you've heard of us. That we have a reputation. Have you heard of any unnecessary violence coming from our operation? Has anything made it into the media? I know it hasn't. Don't get me wrong, we're not afraid of conflict. But it's not good business. And business, ultimately, is what we're all here for."
Gabriel waited for a long moment, considering what I said. "What do you propose?" He eventually asked.
I reached into my pocket and everyone tensed, even Brooke. I pulled out a large folded up piece of paper and spread it out on the table. "Apologies for the crudeness."
It was a map of the area. St. Catharines in the northwest, Buffalo in the southeast. They were separated by a dotted line that represented the border between the United States and Canada. I circled areas on the map in black marker. "I know you have product coming into Canada here, here, and here. And it gets distributed from a central location, here, in Buffalo." I made another circle with spokes shooting off like a wheel. "What I couldn't figure out was how you got it over the border, from Canada to Buffalo. That's where Brooke came in. Apparently, she's the key to the operation. She's been getting your product from St. Catharines to Buffalo more effectively than anyone else I've seen."
Antonio said, "You're very well informed. And yes, Brooke has been indispensable. But she is not our only means of transportation." I wasn't sure I believed that, but didn't say anything.
"But there
are
