Nicolas: A MissTaken Story - Ch10

      (Landing page with info and list of sample chapters)

Chapter 10

The day of the second weapons shipment arrived, and Oscar and Nicolas drove their scooters to the range, with Javier riding behind Nicolas. Javier and Nicolas had settled their differences just two days before. Nicolas finally relented, consenting to allow the girls to stay over, but only one night a week, and not weekends, or busy times.

They arrived early—Nicolas was obsessive about arriving early—and waited impatiently for the others to arrive.

Next to arrive was the Templarios’ shipment of drugs, with one of Luis’ men driving, and two more sitting in the back, rifles at the ready. Benjamin was with them again, and waved to Nicolas as he exited the passenger side of the vehicle.

“Where’s Luis?” Nicolas asked.

Benjamin shrugged. “We came straight from the warehouse. I thought Luis was meeting us here.”

“Oh, uh,” the driver’s eyes flickered nervously, “he said he was going to be late, that we should proceed without him. Some other business to take care of this morning.”

Benjamin shot a quizzical look at the driver, then began loosening straps on the load of boxes.

It was only a minute or two before the other truck arrived. In addition to the two foreigners from last time, there were also two unfamiliar, but native-looking individuals. The two groups sized each other up, then exchanged handshakes as a gesture of trust. The newcomers began unloading their crates of firearms, and as before, Nicolas selected a couple rifles from crates to test-fire, while Javier selected some pistols at random. Oscar offered to test a crate of military-grade shotguns.

Nicolas had an uneasy feeling. Why was Luis late? Why was the driver acting so strangely? The two natives who were traveling with the gun dealers, where were they from? Why were they here? Nicolas covertly watched them; they seemed unable to take their eyes off Benjamin. Something didn’t feel right.

“Hey, Benjamin.” Nicolas sauntered toward the big man after emptying the magazine of the second rifle he had taken for testing. “How’s it going?”

Benjamin broke from his work to shake hands with Nicolas.

“Doing good, and you?”

“I’m good,” Nicolas responded, then leaning in, he spoke more quietly: “I think something’s wrong.”

Benjamin cocked his head to one side, an unspoken question in his eye.

“I don’t know, just … watch your back,” Nicolas whispered, then speaking more loudly, “We gonna test the rockets today?”

Benjamin chuckled, nodding. “I think we can arrange to test one.”

“We got this big hunk of metal for a target,” one of the native men with the visitors announced, thumping a hand on a bulky object in the truck. He directed his attention to Benjamin. “You wanna help us pack it down range?”

Benjamin’s eyes narrowed. He flashed the briefest of glances toward Nicolas.

“Sure.” Benjamin gave a half-smile as he walked over to the two natives.

The three of them dragged the object––some sort of damaged wood and metal crate—out of the truck. One of the native men took the front, while Benjamin and the other one each took a back corner. They hefted the object and began the slow, ponderous trek into the open field, away from the men, cargo, and vehicles.

“How far we goin’?” Benjamin asked.

“About two-fifty meters,” the closer of the men replied.

Nicolas selected another magazine from a crate. Keeping the rifle he had just finished testing, he ejected the empty magazine and loaded the new one. He moved into position on the range, the rifle pointed at the ground.

He stood stock-still staring intently at the three men struggling with the heavy target.

“What are you doing, man?” Oscar stood close to Nicolas and whispered the question.

“Quiet,” Nicolas hissed in response.

The men were a hundred meters out now. Nicolas checked the safety, then chambered a round. His hands trembled slightly.

A hundred and fifty meters away, one of the men swore. “I cut my finger on the edge of this box!” It was difficult to make out at this distance, but Nicolas was laser-focused on the man. “I gotta let go, you good?”

“Go ahead, I got it,” came Benjamin’s grunted reply.

The man next to Benjamin let go of the box, and turned, inspecting his hands.

Nicolas raised the rifle and sighted through the scope.

“Dude!” Oscar hissed.

“Shut up!” Nicolas hissed back.

The man who had supposedly hurt his hand slipped a machete from a sheath on his back, and with a look of murderous intent, turned back toward Benjamin. He slunk stealthily behind Benjamin, the machete raised overhead, poised to strike.

Nicolas didn’t think, he reacted. He flicked the safety on the rifle, sighted in on the machete blade and squeezed the trigger. He heard the metal-on-metal clang just as the machete jumped from the unsuspecting man’s grip.

For his size, Benjamin was startlingly fast. He dropped the crate, spun as he drew a pistol from a shoulder holster, and fired two rounds into his would-be attacker. Nicolas saw the spray of blood and gore as the large caliber bullets exited the man’s back.

The first man staggered when the back of the case dropped to the ground. He reached for his own sidearm as he sought to regain his footing.

Benjamin was too fast for him, turning back and firing three rounds before the man’s weapon cleared the holster. Benjamin took cover behind the crate, pointing his pistol in Nicolas’s direction.

Nicolas lowered the rifle, raising one empty hand overhead. Then he remembered the other men. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw them standing wide-eyed, hands frozen halfway to their own sidearms.

“Hey,” one of the arms dealers spoke softly. “We got nothin’ to do with those two. We were told to bring them to help unload. We’re just here to do business.” He slowly raised both hands, palms out, to confirm his peaceful intentions. The other man duplicated his gesture.

Everyone turned to watch as Benjamin approached, gun at the ready.

“Anybody know what that was all about?” Benjamin glanced from Luis’s men to the two visitors.

“No idea, sir.” The arms dealer spoke reassuringly. “They were a last-minute hire to help us load and unload.”

Benjamin stood, coiled like a spring, ready to strike at the first hint of movement from anyone. The other men wisely remained motionless.

The sound of an approaching jeep drew everyone’s attention to the road, as Luis and his driver pulled into the clearing.

“What’s happening here?” Luis looked surprised as he stepped from the vehicle.

Eyes flashed from one to the other as each man waited for someone else to speak up.

“I think our friends here made a hiring mistake,” Benjamin finally offered. “They accidentally took on a couple of thieves. That or maybe freedom fighters. You anchored south of here, right?” Benjamin directed the question to the arms dealers.

“Uh, yeah,” one of the men nodded.

“El Pobre Unido, maybe.” Benjamin grunted. “Trying to steal weapons for their rebellion. They tried to ambush me. Didn’t work out for them, though.”

There were several relieved grunts of affirmation from both sides.

“Yeah, that was probably it.” One of Luis’s men eagerly supported Benjamin’s theory.

“Ah, well, I am … so glad you’re okay,” Luis offered, eyeing Benjamin closely. “Tell me, how did you manage to escape their trap?”

“Luckily, Nicolas saw right through them.” Benjamin fixed his eyes on Nicolas. “He knew they were up to something, he warned me.”

“Really?” Luis shifted his penetrating gaze to Nicolas.

“Yeah…” Nicolas began haltingly. It was more than just those two. Nicolas was sure of it. The other men knew something. He glanced at Benjamin again. Something in his expression seemed to warn Nicolas to keep those suspicions to himself.

“Yeah, I don’t know exactly. Just … something about the way those two talked. It just felt … off. So, I told Benjamin.”

“And so, I was ready for them,” Benjamin finished. “You got a good man there, Luis. We should probably wrap up here and make those bodies disappear.”

“I’ll take care of them,” Luis quickly offered. “You finish the transaction, yes?”

Nicolas ejected the magazine and cleared the chamber of the rifle, returning it to the case.

Benjamin walked over to assist in closing the case and loading into the Templarios’ pickup.

“I owe you my life, man,” Benjamin murmured to Nicolas.

“Oh, I uh …” Nicolas stuttered.

“Seriously, Nicolas.” Benjamin fixed him with a hard stare. “You ever need anything, you call me. I’ll take care of it.”

With testing done, Nicolas and his friends were no longer needed. They got on their scooters and drove back to the apartment.

“What was that all about?” Javier asked as they walked back into the condo.

“I don’t know,” Nicolas answered honestly.

“But it was more than just a couple rogue bandits, wasn’t it?” Oscar joined in the interrogation. “I mean, you were … on edge, man.”

“I dunno.” Nicolas shook his head. “Benjamin said bandits, he’d know better than me.”

Later that evening, a knock at the door startled the three boys.

“Are you gonna get that?”

Nicolas turned to stare at Javier, and realized both he and Oscar were staring at him.

“Open up, it’s me, Benjamin,” the familiar voice spoke through the door.

Relieved, Nicolas jumped up and opened the door.

“Hey, man, come in. Everything okay?”

“I was just gonna ask you. You guys okay?”

“Yeah.” Nicolas relaxed when Benjamin didn’t seem tense. “What was that?”

Benjamin looked over his shoulder, then scanned the room. Nicolas closed and locked the door.

“You trust your friends? To keep a secret?” Benjamin directed the question to Nicolas.

“Them?” Nicolas’s eyes gestured to Oscar and Javier. “Yeah, I trust ’em.”

Benjamin looked around again, uncertainly. His shoulders sagged slightly.

“It was my fault, I guess.”

“How so?” Nicolas frowned.

“When I was young, the Templarios’ leader was a different man. He lived in Acapulco, but he fancied himself a gentleman farmer. He spent much of his free time in southern Guerrero. So, my father spent time there as well. I grew up near the Oaxaca border.”

“You want something to drink?” Oscar offered when Benjamin paused.

“Cerveza?”

Oscar went to the kitchen to pull a bottle from the refrigerator.

“I met a girl down there, when I was … maybe sixteen. She was fourteen—very pretty.

“What I didn’t know then, she was the daughter of a prominent figure in the Oaxaca Cartel. The Oaxaca Cartel worked for the Tijuana Cartel, with whom the Templarios were bitter rivals.”

“Oh, wow.” Javier stared with wide eyes.

“Yeah, it was kinda like the Montagues and Capulets.”

The three boys stared blankly.

“Romeo and Juliet?” Benjamin frowned. “Don’t you read that in school?” Benjamin shook his head and mumbled something under his breath. Nicolas caught the word ‘uncultured’ but couldn’t make out the rest.

“Anyway, both our fathers put an end to that as soon as they figured it out. But …” Benjamin winced. “Our relationship had already … bloomed … by then.”

“I was willing to marry her,” Benjamin hastily added, his voice somewhat defensive. Then he sighed. “But my father would have none of that, and sent me off to train under Gonzalo, who was being groomed to take over the business from his father. He was already running much of the northwestern operations.”

“So, what happened to the girl?” Javier prodded.

“No se, just rumors. I heard the baby was stillborn, and she blamed her father, who in turn blamed me for ruining his relationship with his little princesa. Anyway, those two would-be assassins were Oaxaca cartel, and I know Gonzalo was working to broker a deal of some sort with them. A merger or something. My guess is that giving his men a shot at me was part of the deal.”

“What? No way!” Oscar clenched his fist, his face clearly telegraphing his outrage at the idea.

Benjamin shrugged. “It’s business. Employees are expendable.”

“What are you gonna do?” Nicolas asked, his eyes downcast, unwilling to meet Benjamin’s.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Javier’s tone was incredulous.

“They tried and failed. Gonzalo doesn’t know I know. So, he gave them their chance and––for the time being at least––it’s business as usual. He can honestly say he didn’t interfere. Their blunder shouldn’t mess up his plans, unless her father is crazy bitter. At any rate, he likely won’t be able to negotiate another shot at me for a while. I’m a good soldier, Gonzalo won’t sell me off cheaply. Especially not a second time.”

“You’d still work for him?” Oscar shook his head.

“It’s a job. Job’s a job.”

“Most jobs you just get fired, not killed by your boss.”

“Pros and cons, I suppose.” Benjamin held his hand up as if weighing the two in the balance.

“How is there a pro to killed versus fired?” Javier stared in disbelief.

“Well,” Benjamin looked upward, considering, “you don’t have to see the look of disappointment on your family’s faces when you have to tell them you can’t feed them anymore.”

“That’s messed up.” Oscar mumbled it under his breath, Nicolas heard it though.

“Pay’s good,” Benjamin explained, “which is good for my mamá. Medical bills.”

“Your father?” Nicolas queried.

“Died in a firefight with some special anti-drug force several years ago.”

“Sorry, man.”

“It’s business,” Benjamin countered. “Look, I just wanted to stop by and make sure you guys were okay, I know you’re mostly in the softer side of the business.”

“Oh yeah,” he said as he raised a hand, “I’m also supposed to let you know Gonzalo wants to meet you three. You’ll get a call tomorrow, about a dinner invitation for Sunday afternoon. Probably at one of the country clubs. Keep your schedule open.”

Benjamin went to the door, opened it, and then paused halfway out.

“And I’m serious, Nicolas.” He poked his head back into the room. “You need anything at all, you call me. I’ll take care of you.”