Chapter 1
The Headman’s adrenaline was pumping. In between labored breaths, his mind continued to replay the events that had just transpired. Did I just take out the prime members of the Vargus Syndicate? This is insane!” Gristle looked over at his boss who was deep in thought. He was speaking, but the Headman wasn’t hearing him as his ears were still ringing from the barrage of close-range gunfire.
“Boss? Boss?! Are you hearing me maan?”
“What?” Declan cleared his thoughts and refocused on the situation at hand. By now his trusted chauffeur bodyguard was yelling quite loudly.
“Where to now, boss?”
“We need to finish the job and quick.” His second in command nodded in agreement and knew exactly what he meant. The black SUV though speeding at first had now assumed the correct speed limit as it turned the corner leading into the industrial complex a half a mile away. They needed to blend in and not to attract any unwanted attention.
“Turn left here. Then pull up into that driveway.”
“Right away boss.” They had driven through the complex in order to emerge in a more residential area. The building in front of them was little more than a run-down tenement building housing some forty section-eight apartments. The front of the building housed three small businesses: a shoe repair shop, a UPS store, and a family-owned bodega.
“Seriously, who gets their shoes repaired in this day and age?” Old man Vargus was very traditional in his upbringing. His nostalgia for the ways of the old country had him establishing storefronts that were relevant back home forty years ago, but not so much here in the U.S.
The shoe repair shop had been his intended entrance, but it was well past regular store hours which meant he would have to find another ingress. He walked around the back of the building until he came upon a service ramp and a security door with a keypad intercom. The ringing in his ears had almost subsided. One’s initial impression of the building would be that of a fortified business, but the Headman knew differently. Back in his younger years, he too was running product for the Vargus Syndicate and had become quite familiar with their operations. He flipped up the keypad and after trying several four-digit codes, the internal door lock clicked allowing him easy access inside.
“Cover me.”
He pulled out his chromed revolver and stepped one foot inside. Gristle instinctively reached for his employer’s shoulder.
“Are you crazy boss? You’re going to get yourself killed!” He took his pointer finger and made a small circular motion on the side of his left temple.
“Please, Danimal. If anyone was going to shoot at us, they would have done it already. All of the Vargus heavy was eliminated back at the piers. The only ones that are going to be left here are his accountants and spies. You know...the exact kind of people we would want joining up with us.”
“And if they don’t?”
The Headman released the locking mechanism on his revolver barrel in order to examine and count his bullets. After a brief pause, he spun the barrel and then flicked his wrist to snap it shut.
“Then they’ll be joining their former employers in the morgue. Enough talk, stay here and keep a lookout. Send in four stormtroopers as soon as they get here. Have the other headhunters follow regular deployment procedures and secure the premises.”
“Will do boss, but I still think you should wait.”
The Headman scoffed at the thought, then slipped quietly inside. The interior was well-lit and littered with dozens of large cardboard boxes and several large wooden shipping crates. A card table was set up in the far corner with poker chips and three face-down hands laid out on the surface. The place seemed abandoned, but once more recalling his past experiences, the Headman knew better. Seconds later, his phone trilled with a new text message. They’re here. Less than a minute later, four heavily-armored stormtroopers entered the building to catch up with his current location which was no more than a yard or so away from the door.
“Excellent! You guys were quick. Follow me and stay sharp!” He used the two fingers of his left hand to point at his eyes and the area in front of him. They immediately flanked their leader at his six, three and nine, but allowed him to keep the point. The floorplan was almost exactly as he had remembered it nearly eight years ago, and he had no problem finding and undoing the latch leading to the lower levels. He pushed the faux wall to his right which exposed a locked door. He stepped to the right of the doorway using the door frame to shield his body before knocking. Thud, thud, de thud, thud!
The guard slid back the peephole cover. “Who is it? And be quick about it.”
“Your new best friend.” The well-dressed man answered coyly although he still remained obscured from view.
There was a brief pause before the locked flipped and the door opened outwards. A familiar-looking man stood in the doorway with his firearm drawn. Immediately, the stormtroopers cocked their weapons showering the man with four well-placed green laser points. The guard wisely threw up his left arm while slowly bending down to place his pistol on the floor.
“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! I’m unarmed!”
The Headman stepped forward and placed the muzzle of his pistol into the man’s chest, but didn’t fire. After a brief moment, he removed the tip of his gun from the man and motioned for him to stand up.
“Well hello, Carlito. Fancy seeing you here. How long has it been? Five? Eight? Ten years is it?” The man shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, not sure of his fate just yet.
“Relax amigo, I’m not going to kill you. Well, at least not yet. In fact, I might not kill you at all if you can prove that you’re beneficial to me.”
Carlito leaned forward to peer at the well-dressed man with the mask a bit more closely. “Declan? Is that you?” The drug lord once more placed the muzzle of his gun into the man’s chest and scowled.
“It is, but I no longer go by that name. I’m the Headman now and you’d be smart to quickly learn that.”
“What...what are you doing here? Have you rejoined the syndicate?” The man holding him at gunpoint began to laugh.
“No, my dear friend. I AM the Syndicate now. So say hello to your new boss. The Vargus boys had an... unfortunate accident.” After a slight bow, he turned his gaze back to Carlito who seemed completely surprised by the proclamation. “You seem perplexed. You mean to tell me that you didn’t know?”
“What’s to know? The Vargus boys rarely come here. Everything here is handled by Lolita and Chavo.” It was now Carlito’s turn to observe the look of surprise on the Headman’s face. “Should I let them know that you’re here?”
The Headman pointed towards the camera directly to his left. “I’m sure they already know.” A moment later he heard the faint click of a gun’s safety from among the shadows.
“I know you’re there. It doesn’t have to go down this way. We can all be allies, or the lot of you can all be dead.” Unbeknownst to his would-be-assailants, ten heavily-armored headhunters had silently made their way inside and already had their night vision sights trained on the mystery shooter. “Besides, if you were going to shoot me, you would have done so already. I’m sure you know of me and that I can be a more than reasonable employer.”
From the shadows, a voice replied. “Fair enough. I’m putting down my gun. Please, don’t shoot.”
“Very well.” The remaining lights in the room suddenly went up and the Headman could now clearly see the person previously addressing him from the shadows.
“Chavo? I presume.” The man straightened up at the sound of his man. He stood roughly five foot eight and was dressed in a long leather trench coat. Most likely kevlar-lined. He couldn’t be more than twenty-five with barely a five o’clock shadow of facial hair. Perched on top of his head were what appeared to be night-vision goggles. He, in turn, offered his own bow to the Headman and a second later, the lights went out leaving the room in complete darkness.
“Do you really think me that naive, that I would show you my face Headman and allow you to live?” This time the voice came from another corner of the dark room.
There was a single gunshot followed by the sound of at least ten silenced rounds. Thuck, Thuck, Thuck! Then there was a loud thud. A flashbang went off a second later and then the lights went back on. The Headman stood over the prone body of Chavo, his gun placed up against his left temple. Two stormtroopers in night-vision goggles held a Hispanic-woman with dark-hair and fair skin at gunpoint, while the would-be sniper laid dead in a puddle of his own blood in the far right corner of the room.
“You would have been smart to shoot me when I entered the room instead of waiting. A pointless game of cat and mouse. Now, you’ll all pay with your lives for wasting my time!”
“Mercy, mercy, please!” The cries came from the woman across the way. He’s my little brother. I’ll do anything, just don’t kill him.” The cartel lord turned to regard the attractive young woman never once removing the muzzle of his gun from her brother’s temple.
“Senorita Lolita, I assume?” The woman nodded. “I’ve been told you use the moniker, Lethal Lolita. What happened darling? Did you think I was some two-bit punk?”
Being held at gunpoint, she could do little more than shrug.
“Bring her to me, but secure her hands first.” The two stormtroopers zip-tied the woman’s hands and patted her down for any possible hidden weapons before forcing her over to the Headman. “So, you’re this ugly, little thing’s sister? How did that happen? Different mother?” He eyed the exaggerated curves of her body then caressed the side of her face. She flinched at his touch, but wisely did not pull away from her captors.
“Please, my brother knows not what he has done, but he can still be a valuable asset to you. You will need him if you wish to know the location of the Vargus’ other real estate and routing numbers to their offshore banking accounts.” The well-dressed man chuckled.
“I don’t need him, just the thumb from his left hand and his right eye. Both of which can be taken easily from his cold corpse.”
“That is true Papi, but if you allow him to live, I can persuade the remaining members of the Syndicate to swear their loyalty to you and the Headhunters.” The Headman stared pensively at the young woman then back at the man at the end of his pistol. Without so much as a warning, he pulled back his arm and pistol-whipped the kneeling man, knocking him out cold.
“Tie the two of them up and search the location. We don’t have a lot of time before the feds are onto us. Take anything of value and torch the place!”
“No! Please. There are innocent families living above us. Women and children who know nothing of this organization. You would kill them all?” Lolita pulled away from her captors in an attempt to assault the arrogant, well-dressed man. Two semi-automatic gun muzzles were immediately pressed to either side of her head and a third in between her ample breasts.
“Do you seriously think I care?” The woman quickly halted her advance and lowered her voice to a seductive whisper.
“But why destroy the place? It is actually quite lucrative. I can sign the lease over to someone in your organization. No one else has to die today.”
He pondered her words for a moment. He was first and foremost a businessman and any additional collateral would be valuable. “You make a good point. Gentlemen, simply remove any trace of the Syndicate. Then we must definitely split.”
“Yessir Headman!” The stormtroopers all answered in unison and began the process of clearing the rest of the underground rooms.
He turned back to the curvaceous young woman standing before him. “They live... for now. As do you, but you’re both coming with me. There are several things... that we need to discuss.”
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