Nicolas: A MissTaken Story - Ch8

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Chapter 8

Summer settled into a routine for the boys. The weekdays were relatively laid back, with time on their hands to relax. They would usually get one or two shipments during the week, in the evenings, and there would be an occasional sporadic request from one of the distributors.

The weekends were a mad rush. On Friday and Saturday nights, almost every distributor would come in for a refill, and they were frequently invited to more than one party.

Oscar always offered to stay and ‘mind the shop’, so Javier and Nicolas would go to the parties. It was a bit strange for Nicolas. He and Oscar had always hung out the most as kids. Javier and Gaspar had been around, but they also had other friendship groups they spent time with, and Nicolas lived far enough away, they would only see each other on occasional weekends. Nicolas and Oscar’s parents were friends, and one or the other would travel to visit at least once a month. Sometimes the boys were allowed a week-long sleepover. They were frequently together back then; fishing, or riding bikes, or just wandering the neighborhoods. Now, it seemed Oscar would always disappear when they’d make plans to go to the beach, or when there was a party to attend.

Nicolas liked Javier well enough, it wasn’t that it bothered him to hang out with Javier, it was just weird that Oscar was never around.

A month into the summer, this changed slightly. Luis invited the boys to go shooting one morning during the week. Oscar was available for that, and it became a part of the regular weekly routine. Every Tuesday, they would drive out of town to a remote area and shoot at targets, with a variety of guns provided by Luis: handguns, shotguns, rifles … Luis even had a fully automatic AK-47. Nicolas favored rifles. He took to it naturally, and within a few weeks, he was putting a two-and-a-half-inch grouping on a target at three hundred meters.

Oscar’s grouping was closer to five inches at that distance, and Javier gave up by two hundred meters. He preferred the automatic anyway, though he did discover a talent for speed-shooting with the handguns.

Nicolas was easily the best shot with rifles at a distance; he even managed to earn a little extra money taking bets on distance shots with military, police or mercenaries, who would occasionally show up to shoot with Luis and his friends. He only ever lost once, to a guy who he later learned was a professional sniper. He picked up a few tips from him, so in the end it was more payment for a lesson than a loss.

Fall and winter saw a slight turndown in business, as the American students returned to their studies. It didn’t have a significant impact on Nicolas and his friends though. Rent was free, regardless. There was a downturn for the shops, thus a reduction in their income from collections, but not so bad as to worry them. Javier complained some. He had discovered he was able to attract the affections of a few of the young girls by buying them little trinkets and taking them to the fancier clubs. Unfortunately, as his money waned, so did their attention.

Oscar shook his head in disgust as Javier complained.

“You need help, man.”

“Oh, yeah, like I’d take relationship advice from you,” Javier quipped. “When was the last time you had a date? Lunch with your mommy doesn’t count.”

Oscar rolled his eyes and stalked out of the room, mumbling.

“Dude,” Nicolas chastised Javier, “that was cold. Just ’cause he’s not a player, like you.”

“I’m not a player. I just know, if you wanna find your princess, you gotta kiss a lot of frogs.”

“Frogs?” Nicolas raised a brow. “Really?”

“What?” Javier spread his arms defensively.

Nicolas sighed. “Oscar’s right, man. You do need help.”

As winter gave way to spring, and tourists began blossoming on the beaches once more, Javier’s complaining subsided.

“Maybe you should pace yourself,” Nicolas suggested one evening. “Save some of your money now, so you have enough for the winter, you know?”

“Naw.” Javier shook his head. “What I need to do is develop more income opportunities. I’ve been talking to Luis. He thinks he might have something for me, some other businesses the organization is looking to get into. He says I have a good face for it. Handsome, honest … speaking of which, I need your help this Thursday.”

“For what?” Nicolas asked pensively.

“There’s some guys coming in, looking to sell some guns. Luis just needs a couple of us to check the guns.”

“Luis is buying guns? What for? Doesn’t that mostly happen near the border?”

“Yeah.” Javier agreed. “Usually does. There’s been some freedom-fighter group setting up in Templario territory recently, south of here, so not really bothering us yet, but Luis is concerned about it. He wants to be prepared, make sure they stay in check, you know?”

“I don’t know.” Nicolas frowned. “I didn’t sign up to be a soldier. Why not let the police handle it?”

“We’re not gonna be involved in any action.” Javier rolled his eyes. “We’re just gonna test a few guns out for Luis, make sure they are good quality before he buys them. It’ll be just like any other target-shooting trip for us. No biggie.”

“You sure?” Nicolas eyed him skeptically.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

As Javier predicted, it was very much like any other target-shooting trip. A pickup truck arrived with crates in the back. In the crates were assorted firearms. The men delivering them claimed they were ‘misplaced’ inventory from the US military.

Nicolas was directed to select a few rifles at random and test them, to make sure they fired properly. The men continued to unload the crates while Nicolas and Javier obliterated various targets.

Several minutes later, one of Luis’ trucks arrived, with crates of its own. The men inspected the crates, then began transferring them to their now empty pickup.

So, it’s a trade, Nicolas thought. Drugs for guns.

A man Nicolas didn’t recognize joined them on the firing line. Nicolas eyed him curiously as he inspected, loaded and fired a very military-looking gun. Too short for a rifle, too big for a pistol. Nicolas had never been big into guns but this looked like something from the movies; all black, sleek and sexy.

The man had larger than normal hands, to complement his larger than normal body, yet he handled the gun with easy dexterity. He brought the collapsing stock to his shoulder and sighted down the short barrel. An imperceptible squeeze of the trigger, and the gun fired. He paused briefly, then fired a dozen more rounds in quick succession.

“You ever fired an MPX before?” The voice was soft and sonorous. The big man gave only the briefest of nods in Nicolas’s direction.”

“No, sir.” Nicolas shook his head.

“You wanna try?” The man held the gun out toward Nicolas.

“Okay.” Nicolas moved haltingly. The man was a full head taller than Nicolas, but that wasn’t what made him so intimidating. His biceps were larger in diameter than Nicolas’s legs.

“Don’t worry, the gun won’t bite.” One corner of the man’s mouth turned up slightly in a smirk. “And neither will I.” He handed the MPX to Nicolas and talked him through the proper stance and grip.

“Nice.” The man complimented Nicolas as his first round struck its intended target. “Now try squeezing twice in rapid succession.”

Nicolas squeezed the trigger, then again and again. Three rounds in less than a second. It felt … powerful.

“I said twice.” The man scowled at him.

“Sorry.” Nicolas held the gun out stiffly at arm’s length.

The man glared briefly, then chuckled. “I’m just messing with you. It’s pretty fun, yeah?”

Nicolas grinned. “Yeah.”

“You’re a good shot with a rifle. What’s your name?”

“Nicolas.”

“Benjamin.” The man offered a giant hand. Nicolas couldn’t even properly grip the man’s hand to shake it; his own hand was completely swallowed up in Benjamin’s fist.

“Nice to meet you.” Nicolas gave a sharp nod of his head and said, “Do you work for Luis? I’ve never seen you before. Are you new?”

“No, I don’t work for Luis, I’m usually with Gonzalo. He wanted me to help with this delivery though.”

“Who’s Gonzalo?”

Benjamin maintained an even composure, but Nicolas detected the faintest upturn of the corners of his mouth, and the slightest twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

“He’s Luis’ boss. He is the head of the Templarios.”

“Oh, wow.” Nicolas felt the heat creeping into his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember Luis mentioning him.”

“Possible he didn’t,” Benjamin said. “It’s a pretty large organization, divided into separate cells. The lower-level bosses generally work autonomously. No need for you to know your boss’s boss. Better if the lowers don’t know, in fact.”

 “Oh.” Nicolas flinched at this revelation. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Don’t sweat it. If you’re here, now, Luis must think you have a future in the organization. You’re fine to know.” Benjamin smirked. “Wouldn’t matter to me anyway, you know?”

“But …” Nicolas frowned, perplexed, “you’re … like … the bodyguard, then, aren’t you?”

Benjamin shrugged modestly. “My father was, so now I am. Family business, you know? Not what I would have chosen but … you know ... you do what you gotta.”

“I’m keeping this one,” Benjamin announced to the other men, holding the MPX up for all to see. No one challenged him, and he collected extra magazines and a holster from the crate.

The final crate of weapons was the surprise of the day; it contained a small number of six-foot-long tubes, and a larger number of rockets.

“RPG-29.” Luis smiled at Nicolas who stared, wide-eyed. “We won’t be testing those, since everything else tested good. We’ll take their word for it on those. It would be fun to see though, no?”

Nicolas grinned and gave a nod as the men closed the crate back up and loaded it onto Luis’ truck.

Luis chuckled. “They’ll be bringing another shipment in a couple months. Perhaps we can arrange just one demonstration then.”