Chapter Two
"How are the kids?" Sebastian asked.
"Getting old. They're finishing high school. Julie will be in college next year."
"You're kidding," Sebastian interrupted, "I knew you were an old bastard but I didn't realize you were that old.'
"I wasn't that old. You were too young."
They both knew at the time that Sebastian had been much too young to be flying helicopters in a war zone.
"I should have reported you but I thought a bullet in your ass would have taught you a lesson," Kelly said, "But it looks like you've done well for yourself."
"I break people's arms in cage matches and most of them are held illegally in some warehouse. When I'm not doing that I'm a door man at the Nite Lite Gentleman's Club in Reno, where I spend most evenings trying not to get into a fight with a drunken salesman who's annoying a stripper while his wife is at home with the kids. I am not sure I've done that well."
Kelly sipped his beer and smiled at his friend.
"If you need money I might be able to help," he said.
"I didn't say I needed money," Sebastian said. "As unimpressive as my career choices have been I really don't need money. You would be surprised. I do okay."
Kelly knew somehow that money wasn't a motivator for Sebastian. He marched to a very different drum
"Hey do still read those books from Russia? I read that one you told me about by Solzhenitsyn. You know, A Day in the Life of what's his name. It was good.
I bought the Gulag book too but it's been sitting on my bed stand for a while," Kelly said. "I don't usually read books with over seven hundred words. Actually I don't get much time to read at all."
Sebastian was surprised that his friend was reading books that Sebastian had recommended so long ago. "I've started reading some French writers."
"You were always reading, now I hear you're developing a reputation as a fighter. That's how I found you. You're getting well known. "
Sebastian emptied his glass and looked across the table at his friend. Kelly was forty eight years old now but except for the grey which was spreading near his temples he looked to be about thirty. At six foot four he was bigger than Sebastian and worked out religiously. His commitment to fitness was one of the things the two men held in common when they met. He was a marine's marine.
Robert Kelly was a tough, black kid who grew up in East Los Angeles who knew he needed a way out of his neighbourhood and so he signed up with the marines as soon as he could. Sebastian signed up even sooner.
"What have you been doing?" Sebastian asked, "I heard somewhere that you were a big shot with the FBI."
"Big shot isn't the official title. I'm a regional manager for the south west. I shuffle lots of paper and balance a pretty large budget. But when I'm not doing that, I close drug labs, illegal gambling sites, prostitution rings and monitor organized crime, which leads me to why I wanted your help."
Sebastian had ordered a garden salad and was picking at it with his fork. He was careful with his diet even when drinking with an old friend.
"You need me to help shuffle the paper or with the other stuff?"
"We think we might be able to nail a career criminal named Cory Pezzo. His family has been connected with the mob since way back before Vegas had air conditioning. Grandpa came out to Nevada when Bugsy Malone was building his dream in the desert. After spending a few successful years, he spent eight years incarcerated and then built a concrete business that helped build casinos and hotels. He seemed to have the right union connections until he got put away again at sixty two and died of a heart attack in prison.
His son, Cory's Pop, was also heavily into union business. He got a demotion at some point and ended up working security at a few casinos later in life. Cory's dad was a tough guy who just did a lot of muscle work for the old mafia. Then sometime around the age of forty, he started to move up the food chain again but, you know how it goes, one day he went for a late night meeting and Cory's Mother reported him missing two days later."
Sebastian looked up from his salad.
"She waited two days to report her husband gone?"
"She told the police he often stayed out late. It wasn't unusual for the old man to go away on business for long periods of time but this time the father's body was never found. Cory was fifteen at the time. He had an uneventful childhood, even when to College in California but soon he started reconnecting with some of his father's old associates. We have monitored Pezzo for more than ten years but he has never even been charged with a parking infraction. This guy is the new mafia. He stays below the radar.
Then six months ago he visited Winona, Arizona and two months ago a garbage collector turned up dead. We know Pezzo was involved. We had wire taps on the guy for three years and we never got anything. Then we learned he was going to muscle some guy out of a county garbage contract. We were so close but the judge shut us down. He said he had already given us three extensions on the wire tap warrants. So we closed the case and a month later Paul Vail, the garbage man is dead."
Sebastian was listening and waiting. His instincts were such that he already knew he didn't want this. He had more respect for Kelly than any man he had ever met. He had flown helicopters with Sebastian as part of a U.N. mission in Bosnia and when he discovered that his young co-pilot was only seventeen when he had signed up Kelly covered for him.
Kelly knew how to lead men. He harvested their respect and he recognized that Sebastian needed the marines. There was something dangerous about the young kid and he needed the action. Kelly knew that much like him, Sebastian needed to get away from whatever it was he came from. They developed a bond. There are lots of reasons to join the service. Kelly knew Sebastian was running from something and he also knew the marines could save him.
Kelly was tough and mean and smart and he was a huge asset to the marines but he was also a father and a husband and so after a successful military career he gave up the service to raise a family. When Kelly left the unit to take a job back home with the FBI Sebastian quit and spent years travelling.
Sebastian admired Kelly and would be happy to work with him again but he wanted nothing to do with the FBI and he didn't want to raise his profile.
"I've told you before that I have been involved with some things that I really don't want people to know about Boss. I would love to help you out. You know that but what can I do. I am not cut from the FBI cloth. I don't work well in a tie and I can't type reports."
Kelly said, "Look I couldn't make you an agent if I wanted too. There is a process to join the Bureau and you would do very well at some aspects but you wouldn't cut it in others. The FBI has a very large permanent staff but we hire people under short contract. We have hundreds of agents but we also have accountants and electricians. We hire secretaries and computer geeks. We pay out former criminals who testify in court and need a new life. And we pay people to tell us things, informers, local cops, insurance investigators.
I am not offering you anything long term. It's a short term contract. I have a very large budget and I can pay you very well. It will take about a month to six months. If you can dig something up or attract enough attention we can go back to that judge open up the taps and nail Mr. Pezzo for murder. You just go into town and ask a few questions."
"You need bait. You want me to make myself known and see if they come after me," Sebastian knew what the job was now and he wanted to be clear with his former boss. He wasn't worried. This actually was becoming appealing. He had lots of reasons to avoid police involvement but this he could do. This he might enjoy.
He smiled, "You want one of those wooden ducks. I just sit in the water and watch the buck shot fly all around me. I can do that."
"I'll give you a letter of introduction. I'll call you an investigator working with the bureau. I'll pay expenses and a monthly stipend. Oh and a clothing allowance, maybe not a tie but a jacket and something other than jeans. If you show up looking like you do now people won't let you in. And you know if it gets bad I'll have your back. Just make Pezzo act stupid and we'll nail him. This guy Vail was a regular guy. He had a lovely wife, a home in the suburbs. He had developed his business from one truck to a fleet and he didn't deserve to get whacked by some punk."
Sebastian realized he was nodding his head as Kelly spoke. He didn't need the money but it had to be more interesting than wrestling drunks out of their seats at the Nite Lite.