Dirty Money

Chapter 21 - Rags

            “He’s gone,” Michael said, as he sat down.

            “Good,” Chuck looked at his security camera footage; everyone was going about their usual routine. “How come our income is slowly dwindling? We should be making way more with the Giuseppes underground.”

            Michael cleared his throat, “The police have been hitting the street dealers nonstop, and they’re getting to scared to work. One of my best earners has disappeared off the radar,” he said, defensively throwing his hands up.

            Chuck clenched his fist, “Just when things should get better they get fucking worse.”

            “I know.”

            “No you don’t,” Chuck snapped.

            “Okay,” Michael said, surprised.

            “We’re getting less and less product through each week and Rai is taking a bigger hand in things, plus Detective Thomas fucking Salks is eating away at a nice slice of pie. We got more overheads than any legitimate company.”

            “What are we going to do?” Michael asked.

            “Increase security at the warehouse – turn make it a fortress, something that even the cops will be to scared to come near. Elite Forces won’t even try their luck. We move all the crews there; have living quarters and the only way things move in and out is through Rai. Let him do the work if he wants more of a share. First we buy up as many arms as we can off Rai, which will get us in good with Kim and then we move in. I mean fucking concrete ourselves there, guys with machine guns patrolling twenty four hours a day, dogs, lookouts, spotlights, cameras.”

            “Sounds like a safe investment,” Michael said, coolly. 

            “Yeah, you and Charlie will run it. I’ll get Thomas Salks to provide police escorts to Rai’s deliveries. Everyone wins.

            “Get Brendan to set up a meeting with Rai. Tell him to forget money for the next shipment…we’ll take guns.”

            Michael nodded and stood up to leave, “I’m sorry about Angelo,” Chuck said. 

            Michael looked back at the boss with a smile, “Thanks.”

            The lieutenant walked passed the gangsters dressed as office workers on computers and pressed the ground button in the lift. The two security guards stood at attention as he walked toward them. The chubby one with the moustache nodded, “Mornin’ Michael.”

            “Fuck off,” Michael said, not even bothering to make eye contact.

Say that again and I’ll bury you. John stroked his moustache trying to keep his cool as the fat lieutenant entered the car waiting for him. The security guard looked to his partner, “Fucking nerve on this guy aye?”

“I’ll say, after all we do for them.”

John looked at his watch, “Well I’ll try not to let it get to me, but for now I am finished anyway,” he smiled. 

“Lucky bastard. Who is replacing you?” 

“Nathan,” John said, hoping he had the replacements name right.

John moved to Contro just as the war began to erupt. He knew it would bring about good business and while he waited for that business; he took a job working security for his unsuspecting employer. Chuck was paying him for two jobs, full time security and one off assassin. John had no idea how the nickname the driver came about; the only thing he could think of was because he always used cars didn’t every one? Who walks to an assassination and then walks away? He thought.