“Well, you two have a nice day, now,” I said. I gave Sam a look, and he got up and yanked both men up by their collars, which didn’t seem to make either of them very happy, not since Killa couldn’t really put any weight on his knee and Junior was having an issue with his throat, and pushed them toward the open door.
They both stumbled at first and then seemed to gain a bit of purchase after they bounced off each other and found their balance.
“You don’t ever disrespect me like that,” Junior said, though it was hard to hear him. It’s hard to sound threatening when air keeps whistling out of your throat.
“I just did,” I said.
“Never again,” he said.
“Fine, fine,” I said.
“And keep her away from me,” he said.
“Can’t promise that,” I said.
The issue Junior Gonzalez was having, other than with breathing, was that no one ever talked back to him. He simply wasn’t made to take orders.
“Tomorrow,” he said.
“Tomorrow,” I said.
All of us watched Junior and Killa drag themselves down the hallway. They looked like wild horses that had been broken. When they reached the front door, Killa looked back at us and held Father Eduardo’s gaze for a few seconds before he shuffled back out into the daylight.
“That went well,” Sam said.
“You think so?” Barry said. “Because I’m covered with blood over here. And, Michael, you didn’t mention anything to me about Fiona wrapping a whip around my throat or cutting me. That was not part of any form of discussion you and I had, Michael, and I’d like you to know that I found both experiences… to put it mildly… upsetting.”
“You loved it,” Fiona said.
“A part of me enjoyed it,” Barry said.
Father Eduardo took his rightful seat behind his desk and dropped his head into his hands.
“Guys,” I said, “can you leave us alone for a minute?”
“Sure, Mikey,” Sam said. “We’ll get Barry cleaned up in the bathroom. And then maybe, Fi, you can show me that little trick with the whip?”
“Why don’t you try something proactive,” I said, “like bugging that empty office next door? Get it ready for Junior’s occupancy.”
When they were gone, I sat down across from Father Eduardo, in the same chair Killa was in prior to my destroying his knee. “I know what I’m doing, Father,” I said.
“I know,” he said. “I know. Ernie, he told me you might make it look like I’m in an impossible situation, but that you would be in control. I just… to see my brother that way. It was hard.”
“I had to show them that I have no fear,” I said.
“No, not that. That I understand. To see him subservient to Junior. To see him give up his own son to him. It made me sick. That’s me there, Michael. That’s what I used to do. I may not have killed directly, but I put that fear of suffering into other people. I have to make that right.”
“You are. Right here.”
“There’s more. There has to be.”
“We’ll figure that out,” I said. “In the meantime, it’s business as usual here. We’ll clear the storeroom next to your office and put Junior in there. We’ll give him a computer and a phone and all of the bugging devices money can buy.”
“How long will he be here?”
I had to think about that. “Two days, if everything goes according to my plan. If he’s still here by the end of the week, that just means we’ve both been murdered.”
Father Eduardo looked stricken.
“Kidding,” I said.
“He’ll come for you,” Father Eduardo said. “That’s his nature.”
“I know,” I said. “He won’t get the chance.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am,” I said. “In the meantime, you need to be in a safe house.”
“I am safe in the Lord’s house,” he said.
“I respect that,” I said, “but I’m the only one who does. Sam will be your shadow for the next few days, but at night, you’re sleeping elsewhere.”
Father Eduardo nodded his assent. “Do you have a secure facility somewhere?”
“You could say that.” I pulled out my cell phone and made a call. “Ma,” I said, “you remember Little Eddie Santiago from the other day? Turns out he’s getting his house fumigated and needs a place to stay for a few nights.”
“Michael,” she said, “is he in danger?”
“Of course, Ma,” I said.
“I thought he was a priest.”
“He is,” I said. “But he’s a priest who needs my help.”
“You lead a very strange life, Michael.”
“I know, Ma. I know,” I said. I checked my watch. “Sam will drop him off in a few hours. That okay?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No,” I said. “You made me get the car washed, remember?”
“You just can’t stop blaming me for one minute, can you?”
“Appears not,” I said. “I appreciate this, Ma. And so does Father Eduardo.”
“I’ll put on some coffee,” she said, and hung up.
“All taken care of,” I told Father Eduardo.
“Fine, fine,” he said. He reached into his desk and pulled out a Bible. “Would you mind leaving me alone for a few moments? I need to pray.”
“Sure,” I said. “Of course.”
“You can let yourself out?”
I told him I could, and then got out of his office as quickly as possible. It was hard to see him as the religious man he was when in my mind he was Eddie Santiago, not Father Eduardo. He was a man to be feared, and now he had the fear of God. It was a turnaround I wasn’t practiced in, and not one I yearned to be overly familiar with.
I found Sam in the empty office, stacking extra Bibles. It was one of strangest things I’d ever seen.
“Take a picture,” Sam said, “before I go up in flames.”
“Where’s Fi?” I said.
“She ran back out to get the bugs. Barry’s in the bathroom, shaking and sobbing quietly.”
“Really?”
“I dunno, Mikey, but he’s not made for hostage situations. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I thought he did well.”
“He’s lucky Junior didn’t plug him.”
“We’re lucky Junior didn’t try to plug all of us.”
“That won’t be the case next time,” Sam said. “How long we planning on pulling this off?”
“Couple of days is all we’ll need. Get him on tape in here, get the counterfeiting operation up and running, which should take only a day if we get some decent plates, and then see about maybe pulling it all together with a police action that doesn’t implicate anyone but Junior.”
“How you planning on doing that?”
“I was thinking of starting out with a Chechnyatype situation in the printing press,” I said, “but without killing anyone.”
“Good luck with that,” Sam said.
