The Ghost Ch. 02

The tailor knocked on the door, and when he opened it, he asked the short man in. He told the man what he wanted and allowed him to take measurements. The little man went out the door and told Lawson he would send the suit within an hour via the bellhop as Lawson slipped him ten crisp one hundred-dollar bills.

Caudillo ran a high-priced resort, and to be at this location you had to have the money. Lawson knew he had to show he belonged and blend in before anything happens. For the next hour Lawson worked on his accent, perfecting it until he was convinced, he sounded Latin himself. He even called Kelsey from the hotel and fooled her until he could not stop from laughing.

There was a knock at the door, Lawson went to answer, looking out the peephole first. A young man stood outside holding a suit in a plastic bag. Opening the door, he let the youngster in, closing the door behind him, as the younger man put the suit on the hanger inside the closet door.

Lawson handed him a large bill as he came back over to the older man. "How's the restaurant downstairs young man?"

"It's very good sir, they open at four for the guests, but you can order anytime through room service. The menu is in the top drawer by the television."

"I would like to visit downstairs later but thank you for the information. So how are the women around here?"

The young man turned a slight shade of red, "There are many to choose from. They come from all over to the beach sir. If you are looking for special services ask for Bruno, he is the concierge." The boy said with a shy smile.

Lawson fished into his chest pocket, pulling out some large bills. "Pass this on to your concierge Bruno. I want to know when his boss, Armando Caudillo arrives. I have some important news I need to pass onto him."

"I don't know the name you give me mister. I'll send Bruno to see you right away."

"Better yet, tell Bruno to meet me in thirty minutes at the restaurant downstairs." The boy nodded and went his way.

Forty-five minutes later, Lawson appeared at the restaurant entrance. The host sat him at a table in the back, while another man followed them and sat across from Mark. "You Bruno?"

"Seems you know who I am, now who the hell are you? Our government or one of the goons working for another mob?"

Mark chuckled as a server came to the table. "I'll have just water and lemon, and the house salad. Bruno? Anything for you?"

"No thank you."

As the server turned and left, Mark looked at the man, and leaned forward putting his hand inside the jacket of his suit. "Look Bruno, I'm neither. I'm here because a friend asked me to be here. She was worried about family, so I wanted to speak to your boss about family matters. That's all, so, will that be an issue?"

Behind Mark, two men came, one had a gun to his back. "Tell me why you are here, and be truthful, or this guy is going to kill you."

Mark smiled. "There are two things that are certain to happen in this scenario Bruno. One, he won't be killing me in front of all these witnesses after what happened yesterday. Secondly, your boss will want to talk to me, since my friend's husband just happens to be missing."

Bruno's face went pale, as he nodded the two men off Mark. "You know Rosa?"

"Yeah, she's my friend and colleague."

"How do you know what happened here?"

"I was watching from a rooftop a few buildings away. I'm one of the reasons three of those guys are dead, and they weren't friendly to Roberto."

"Come on, the Boss will want to see you." The server came over with Lawson's order, as he stood up from the table.

"Here sugar, take a break and tell me later how it tasted." He threw a fifty on the table.

The resort was a large horseshoe, with gardens, patios and pools inside the horseshoe, at ground level. Most of the suites were located on the beachside, with balconies or private patios. It stood twelve stories high with a penthouse at the top. That was where the elevator was headed too.

When the doors opened, Lawson was met by two men as they joined Bruno in taking him to Caudillo. Walking into a kitchen the size of a bedroom, Armando was standing over an industrial sized stove cooking something that pleased Mark's nostrils. They stood at the island in the room for what seemed like a full minute, until Armando spoke without turning around.

"What is it Bruno? Can't you see I am fixing dinner for mi esposa."

"Sorry boss for disturbing you, I have brought someone to meet you. He brings news about your nephew, and he is friends with Rosa."

Armando stood straight as he turned the stove to simmer what was in the pot. Turning around he walked to the island looking into Lawson's eyes. "You are telling me you know Rosa, and can tell me where she might be?"

Mark studied the older man, noticed the slight tremble in his left hand. "I do know Rosa sir; she is a very good friend and colleague of mine. She sent me here to warn you and her husband of the dangers coming. Unfortunately, it caught up to Roberto before I could get to him."

Armando's eyes closed, as he sighed deeply. "How do you know anything about what happened to Roberto? Were you the one who carried out the hit?"

Lawson chuckled, "If it would have been me, you would have known." Both men looked at each other with hardened eyes. "I was watching from a hotel a few blocks over when it went down. It seemed to me it was eastern European men that did the hit. Of course, I am truly guessing because it was through a rifle scope."

"They were Russian and worked for Vladimir Sokolov and Juan Guijosa."

"Guijosa?"

"Yes, he is the thorn in my side. I am assuming this has something to do with me letting everyone I know that he is a snake in the garden." He turned and picked up the wooden spoon to stir the ingredients in the pot. "He is reckless and homicidal. He will eventually get killed, and I hope it is by a terrible death. Before he goes though, he will take many good men with him."

Lawson rubbed his hands together as he looked down at the marble floor. "Do you consider yourself a good man Caudillo?"

"No, I do not. I have caused much pain throughout my life and have done many wrongs to many good people. Although I have done these things, I have tried to straighten my life at the end because of my grandchildren. My legacy will carry on, but I want my grandchildren to have nothing to do with it. I want to go back to Puerto Rico and take care of them, leaving this all behind."

"Why don't you then?"

"Guijosa of course. He came here demanding me join him or he was going to kill my family. I've done little things here and there for him, but nothing noteworthy. Now it seems my worth is no longer something he desires, and he wants to wipe me off the planet."

Lawson surveyed the room and found some pictures on the refrigerator. He found shots of some middle-aged people with little kids in Miami and the same in what looked like Puerto Rico. "What would it take Mr. Caudillo to make your dream a reality?""

Spinning around Caudillo looked at the huge man in front of him. "Killing me or killing Guijosa. That is the only way I will be free. All the other cartels have agreed to let me retire and divide my empire to themselves, but he isn't allowing it. He wants it all, and will stop at nothing to get this port, and the routes that he can traffic his crap into the states."

"How soon can you leave again to Puerto Rico Armando?"

Bruno's eyes widened, "He just arrived, and the boss doesn't tuck tail and run like a scared schoolgirl."

Lawson started walking to the door when the other two men stood in his way. "I am not going to stand here and be a target when the shooting happens, so if these two guys want their families to recognize them tomorrow, I suggest you tell them to let me go."

"Wait!" Caudillo says as he walks over to Lawson. "We can be ready within the hour, tell me your plan.

*************

Vladimir and Sergei sat in the sedan across from the hotel watching the front doorway. None of Caudillos' men were visible and it was causing some distress to Sokolov. Two SUVs pulled in front of them and parked, with only one person getting out, making his way to Vladimir. Rolling the window down, the man leaned down just a little to speak through the window.

"Names Franco, we were told to come and help you with your little problem."

"Caudillo is still inside, but is keeping a low profile, we need to go in and hit them now."

"We noticed two mobile units two blocks away, not good for causing any trouble here twice in one day."

"I'm not worried about that; we need to do what Guijosa says. He wants it done, we do it. Are you in or not?"

The mobster looked at the Russian and knew he had to do what he was told. "Yeah, I'm in, just don't get my guys killed, or I kill you."

He nodded toward the SUV and the men climbed out dressed in suits. The three Russians also climbed out of their sedan, as they all walked across the street to the resort. Vladimir started to tell the men what to do, as he and Franco were going to go to the restaurant and make sure Caudillo wasn't there. The others were going to split up and search the resort at the pool, the gym, and Caudillos suite.

Meanwhile Caudillo and his wife were already heading to Miami-Dade while Bruno had his men set up in various areas dressed like tourists. Lawson was in the lobby watching the group of men walk in and split. He went with the group of men to the elevator and climbed in the same car as them.

He pressed the eleventh-floor button and stayed quiet as he watched them out of the corner of their eye. One was a huge European man, the other two were Italian looking. They could not get to the Penthouse without a key, but they were going to the twelve floor, most likely to enter through a balcony.

Lawson climbed out when the doors opened and made his way to the stairwell. He hurried up the steps taking two at a time to beat the men to the roof. Upon opening the locked door, Mark used the key Bruno gave him and went out the door, locking it behind him. Going over to find cover, he waited as he heard the men coming up the stairwell.

After the door burst open, the two Italians walked through the door, while the Russian took his time. He looked around the roof, almost if he knew someone was watching the scene unfold. A few seconds later, two more Italian men ran through the open door saying something to the Russian as they tried to catch their breath.

The Russian walked toward the balcony where the other two men went, while the others stood guard at the roof access door. Mark smiled, as he made his way closer to the access door. Reaching into the inside suit jacket he collected two small throwing knives. Throwing them from twenty feet away, both hit the targets, one in the throat, the other in the back. Rushing over to them, he made sure they would not make any more noise, by twisting their necks until their vertebrae snapped like a twig, then dropping a pin on the closest body.

Moving away from the bodies, edging the side of the roof, he made his way over to the balcony. It was a small drop, but very doable from his vantage point to drop onto. The curtains to the French doors were waving in the wind, and he could hear voices coming from the penthouse. They were still distant enough, he knew he had enough time, he could make his move.

Dropping as softly on the landing, he peered into the doorway noticing the Italians waiting in the lounge area for Sergei. He was on the phone having an animated conversation. Mark took two steps forward, entering the lounge, knees bent, pistol ready. His line of fire of the two Italians were clean, but the Russian was behind a door frame leading to the hallway toward the kitchen.

Taking another step his foot came down making a small squeak, causing one of the Italian men to turn toward the door. "Shit, someone's here." The man yelled as he brought his gun up from his hip. Without hesitation, Mark took the man down with one to the right of his chest, exiting through the left side.

The other man moved quickly to his right to take cover, as Mark fired at him. The man yelped as he rolled behind the sofa. Splinters exploded from the molding behind Lawson as a shot came from the hallway where the Russian was located. Mark went to this left, ducking beside a heavy desk in the corner. Two more bullets whizzed by Lawson's ear as he crouched lower.

Pinned by crossfire, Mark looked under the desk for a way out. Under the desk was a button hidden away like a safe deposit box behind a picture in the wall. Not knowing what it was or what it would do, he reached under and pressed it. A door opened across the room causing the two men firing at him to turn, giving him the time to get himself in better positioning. Rolling toward the hall, he found himself against the wall where the Russian was on the other side.

The Italian behind the sofa was barely out of sight, with his lower body the only thing in Marks' line of vision. He aimed at the man's chest and fired, striking him center mass, watching him slump and go limp. The elevator chimed, signaling someone was on the floor. The doors wouldn't open without a passcode, but Mark heard the men inside the lift barking orders at each other, specifically asking for the pry bar.

The Russian started firing through the wall at Lawson's position, but he was rolling toward his right at the same time, plucking the Russian with two shots in the neck and chest. He dropped hard grabbing at his neck, the fountain of crimson spraying with every heartbeat. By the time Mark approached the dying man, the life had drained from him. Placing a pin into his mouth, he then closed it, making his way out of the room the same way he came in.

After several tries, the men finally were able to open the doors with the pry bar. They entered the room with their guns raised, waiting to shoot anything that moved. Vladimir walked through the elevator doors, noticing the bodies lying on the floor. Looking to his right, he found his friend and right-hand man Sergei dead. He then noticed the curtains flapping in the breeze in front of him. "Through the window, go after whoever was here!"

Walking over to Sergei's lifeless body, he kneeled touching the man's cold face. "Ah Sergei, you save a place for me. I'll bring the vodka, heh." he then noticed something inside his mouth. Taking it out, he studied it and wondered how it might have found its way there. The pin had a sword with two arrows crossed, and a banner around it saying "DE OPPRESSO LIBRE'.

Vladimir's blood boiled as he looked over at Franco and his men who looked defeated. "Tell me you found who did this?"

"No, we did not. We found two more men on the roof top though, along with this." Franco threw an identical pin over to Vladimir. He gripped it in his hand until the metal pierced his skin.

"Find out who that man was now!" Vladimir turned on his feet toward the elevator doors and left the penthouse. He placed both pins in his pocket as he brought out his cell. "Juan, we have a problem, a huge problem."

*************

Lawson met with Armando at the small airport thirty minutes away to let him know about what had taken place. His wife was already on board the plane, as two bodyguards armed with AK-47's stood by the boarding stairs. When he pulled up, both guards took aim at him ready to fire, until Armando told them to stand down.

"You're hurt, come in the plane, my wife will patch you up."

Mark looked at the graze on his shoulder and shook his head. "I've had worse, I'll be alright."

Armando's face went from worry to concern. "What happened back there? I am unable to reach any of my men."

"They are dead Armando; I am sure of it. I took a few out as well, but not all of them."

"What should I do? I have never been in this position before. I have always been at the top."

Lawson looked at the older man, then at the guards. "You have two choices like I told you before. Meet the fate that your old friend Tejada met, or get the hell out of town and never come back. Retire, go somewhere tropical and live a life in seclusion. Just leave this life behind and enjoy your lovely wife."

Armando nodded in agreement, "I am ready to retire, I lost the stomach for it long ago. Was going to hand it over to my nephew, but I'm pretty sure he's dead too. Looks like Guijosa gets a win today."

"Don't worry about Guijosa Armando. I have plans for him, and it will get revenge for the wrongs he has done to you and myself. I just have to find the fucker."

Armando had a half smile appear on his face. "Jorge, get me some paper and a pen." One of the guards quickly scaled the stairs, and a minute later trotted back down to hand him the supplies. Armando wrote on the pad before ripping it off and handing it to Mark. "These are the addresses of where Juan has been in Chicago, Las Vegas and Houston. Vladimir is in Seattle, and he is the Russian you most likely came in contact today. The Italians are most likely part of the D'Angelo family located in Little Italy, Manhattan."

"Thanks Armando, appreciate the intel. Go and have a peaceful life. Don't go home or anywhere you have visited and be safe."

The older man shook Mark's hand then turned and jogged up the stairs. Both guards followed and then raised the plane's stairs, closing the doors. Mark walked back to his rental climbing in and watched the plane taxi onto the runway, then take off. He wondered if Armando had anything to do with Maria's death, but he could not find any connections. All he found was a distribution line between the two cartels. Armando had slowed down over the past few years and was using less drugs as a money maker, instead running the resorts and underground casinos.

Mark felt good about letting Armando retire and settle down and wondered if he would be able to retire. He thought of himself as an ordinary man, somehow transformed into a methodical killer pledged to an unending war. The skills he learned while in special ops, and the FBI were second nature to him, and as safe as it had kept him through his life until now, it accompanied him throughout this new territory of syndicated corruption and criminal power.

It should not be taken in context that Lawson was reckless or suicidal when he faced his enemies. In fact, he had a contempt for death, not life. He never flung his life to a higher power but possessed a knack for equalizing the power between himself and his enemies. His friends even wondered how he could be so tough yet have such a warm heart.

While many of his missions abroad required him and his team to be in populated areas, Mark took note not to be reckless with human life, and only harm the ones who wanted to harm him or his team. He cared for the civilians of the nations he was helping, always making sure they were safe.

He planned his attacks with great care to ensure only the deserving tasted his wrath. He was a man with a higher call of duty that cost him everything that ever held any meaning in his life. He was not kill-crazy, arrogant, mentally disturbed or suffering from PTSD. He often felt lonely, and often wearied being who he had become; one getting a job done. His greatest enemies were his self-doubts, which were often immense and an overpowering feeling for normalcy.

His war started as an act of vengeance. He had been on the frontlines battling the war on the cartels and had to come home to bury his family because of it. He found out that the ones that had done it were out of reach of the law but were not out of reach of him. He knew he could not count on the law, because they had their hands tied by corrupt bureaucrats. He knew there had to be a direct plan of action and threw the rules out the window.

With his new face, Lawson felt he had a new lease on life and was truly a 'Ghost'. Going into Miami he was helping a friend, now he had a new determination. A determination to remain alive and to carry his war continually to his enemies. He was going to harass their programs, throw contempt at their delusion of grandeur, and to hurl their omnipotence back at them and reduce it to a crumbling impotence.