The Old Farts In Miami

Chapter 7

  Finally, a truth had been found. There was no doubt that somebody or something was being kept at the warehouse at the marina. Several SUVs with tinted windows were parked at both the front and the back of the building on the left side. Five men did circuits around the blacktop area surrounding the warehouse. The men were armed, and some openly carrying high powered rifles. This was Florida and Miami after all.

  John swallowed audibly as he and McKenzie stared at the setup. John knew McKenzie would want to get closer, and that alone was enough to put him near a panic attack. McKenzie’s eyes narrowed as he watched each man that came into view. John brought up the PowerLead FS608 digital camera binoculars that had been in McKenzie’s bag in case they got a chance to find out who these guys were. The clarity was amazing and he snapped half a dozen pictures.

  As they watched from behind a chain linked fence, in a park across the two-lane road, a woman stepped out of one of the doors. McKenzie pulled out his usual binoculars and zoomed in, the safety lights giving him a nice view of Marissa Mendez’s face.

  “And so we know the little lady is definitely playing both sides.” McKenzie snapped a few pictures and handed the binoculars to John, who confirmed the visual. “I think we’re done playing nice with her.”

  McKenzie started the truck and made another trip to the empty house several doors down from Bobby’s. As they waited for Marissa to come home, McKenzie decided to make a phone call to a couple of Old Farts that he would need to pull off this mission.

  The first call was to Chuck Travis, a skinny man with a keen eye and an amazing shot. As a professional sniper perfectly trained by the US Army, he would have no problem picking off the men around the edges so that they could get in. He was spending his days on a small ranch in Colorado with his girlfriend Shawna.

  After leaving the Army, Chuck had worked periodically as a civilian contractor for various 3-letter government agencies, mostly in Africa and the Middle East. There always seemed to be a need for a great rifleman. But lately the contracts were not coming so frequently, so this opportunity sounded like fun. Chuck would need a night to convince Shawna not to come along, and then he would fly down tomorrow in his old Cessna 172. That was an easy way to transport his baby, a bolt action Barrett M99 .50 cal with a 29” fluted barrel and QDL suppressor – a sniper rifle. All legal in nearly every state, but carrying one on public transportation could be difficult. Even in the carrying case the TSA x-rays would cause a lot of questions he did not want to answer.

  The second call was to Cliff Cassidy. McKenzie worried about bringing him in, as his days spent in the bottom of a bottle had not been kind. But when it came to making something go boom, whether it be a distraction or total take down operation, he would be their man. He only drank when he wasn’t working and Cliff sounded eager to do something, anything, to help and said he could be in the area by the next afternoon once he slept some of the booze off.

  “You think it’s really necessary to bring them in?”

  “Yes. I know I’m a badass, John, but I’m an old badass and it would help to have someone picking off any trouble heading our way and someone else to create a distraction when we need to get in or out.” John nodded but didn’t look convinced.

  McKenzie thought about the plan as they continued waiting. Eventually, the sedan pulled in, Marissa got out and headed inside, and the car left. McKenzie gave it another fifteen minutes before starting the truck, keeping the lights off, and moving to her driveway. He shut off the truck, grabbed his Glock and headed to the door. John scrambled after him, his eyes wide and his whispered halts to McKenzie making no difference as the big man stalked up to the door.

  Without knocking, he turned the handle, happy that his expectations were correct and she hadn’t bothered to lock it. Marissa was sitting on the couch, watching something on television. At the noise of the door flying open, she screamed and half fell, half jumped off the couch, scrambling backward before realizing her phone was still back where she had been sitting. McKenzie pulled out the gun and pointed it at her as John closed the door

  “Stop screamin’ or I’ll make you stop.” McKenzie’s voice was deadpan, but his eyes were burning in anger. “What kind of idiots do you play us for? Huh? You’re gonna get two innocent kids killed, kids that have 51omethi’ to do with whatever bullshit you and Bobby have with your brother. What in the hell is wrong with you?”

  McKenzie moved closer to Marissa, his gun steady in his hand. John leaned against the door, torn between calling Rob or calling the police, but he knew he had to get McKenzie under control first.

  “Are the kids in that warehouse?”

  “Wh…what warehouse?”

  “The one you just came from!”

  “I don’t know!”

  McKenzie stepped forward, putting the barrel of the gun against her forehead.

  “Keep lyin’ to me, please. You have no idea what I have been through in my life, why I no longer give a shit, and just what I am willin’ to do to get those kids back.”

  “Please, please, don’t do this.”

  “Answer me!” McKenzie’s roared.

  “Yes, yes, they’re there but not for long. He’s going to move them. The cops came here today, looking for them and they got my name. He can’t keep them here or there.”

  “Why don’t you give him the drugs and money and then he’ll let the kids go!”

  “I don’t know.”

  McKenzie shoved the gun against her head harder, causing her to flinch, tears began to bead up in her eyes. “Tell me the truth, bitch.”

  “I can’t do it! He’ll kill them as soon as he gets his stuff. If you don’t do something soon, he’s gonna kill one of them anyways. He can’t have them blabbing. Those kids are dead, no matter what, they’re dead.”

  Marissa started sobbing. McKenzie backed up a step, letting her drop her head in her hands. McKenzie blinked hard before glancing at John, unsure of what they should do next. John shrugged.

  “What are you getting out of all of this?”

  “What?” She wiped her face as she looked up at him.

  “You, what are you getting? Who are you actually helping? Your brother or Bobby or yourself?” McKenzie spoke softly, but something in his words worried John. The wrong answer could have this ending very badly.

  “I don’t know anymore. At first, I just wanted the money and the lifestyle. But I wanted it on my own, no Lorenzo to rule over me. I thought Bobby could help make that happen. Lorenzo wanted something from him, he told me to get close and earn his trust. He said Bobby was the key to our father’s death.” Marissa shook her head, wiping her nose on a crumbled paper towel off of the floor. “I didn’t understand. My father was killed in a take-down of his gun runners. No one was responsible for his death but himself. Lorenzo said that wasn’t true.

  “So I got close to Bobby. I liked him. He’s funny and he cares about me and he honestly wanted to help me do things on my own. I thought if I took the drugs and some of the money that we could go away after selling the drugs and get away from Lorenzo once and for all.

  “Really, I wanted Bobby to run with me, to go somewhere and keep the money and have a nice life away from this. But he wanted to see his kids first. Lorenzo found out what was happening, how I don’t know. But he came here and took them and threatened me. If I did anything, he would kill them and Bobby and set me up to take the fall. So I did nothing. Bobby knew something had gone wrong and he thought I was in on it. I tried telling him that I wasn’t, that I was with him, I loved him. And now it’s all fucked up and…”

  Marissa collapsed, sobbing miserably as McKenzie and John looked on.

  “We know where Bobby is.” John’s gentle voice grabbed her attention. “We could take you to him, protect you and him, as long as we get your cooperation and help on rescuing the kids.”

  “We don’t care about the mess you guys are in, but we’ll help you if it means you’ll really help us. I don’t want anything to happen to them,
the kids. It doesn’t matter to me if you and Bobby ride off into the sunset or go to prison, but I won’t let you get killed if you help us.” McKenzie stared at her, waiting for a response. He was never good with the soft approach.

  “If you take me to Bobby, if you don’t let Lorenzo get us, I’ll do whatever I can. I won’t risk my neck, though, I won’t go back to him as some sort of bait or trap or something.” She wiped her nose again, her makeup smeared comically down her face.

  “Fair enough. We just need you to convince him, over the phone, that you know where Bobby or the stuff he’s lookin’ for, or 51omething’ like that is. We need to buy time for our guys to get in there and get the kids before Lorenzo loses patience and does 51omething’ to them.” McKenzie nodded as he spoke, continuing thinking through a possible plan.

  “He’s going to move them soon, probably out on the yacht.” Marissa rose to her feet, refusing McKenzie’s outstretched hand.

  “Where is it docked?”

  “At the marina, on the other side of the warehouse. You can’t miss it. It’s a 107 foot Broward, I think, in Slip 102. Damn thing is s’posed to be worth about three million bucks. You wouldn’t think he’d even miss what we took.

  “Okay, that’s good, but we’ll need to get all the information we can from you. Right now, we’ll take you to Bobby, at his dad’s condo, and get some things sorted out. He’ll probably be pissed at first, and that’s reasonable, but our priority is the kids.”

  McKenzie went to the truck, Marissa following and John bring up the rear. The drive was uneventful as they headed back to Rob’s condo. John sat in the back of the king cab with Marissa to prevent any thoughts of exiting from the truck and then called ahead and gave Rob a rundown so he could prep Bobby. The last thing they needed was for Bobby and Marissa to attack each other at the door. Rob was relieved that things were moving forward, that they knew where the kids were, but like McKenzie and John, he was worried about the impending timeline.

  “Did you tell him the Old Farts are havin’ a reunion tomorrow?” McKenzie quipped as he parked the truck in the building’s garage.

  “No, I was going to leave that little nugget for you,” John smirked as they made their way up to Rob’s floor.

  At the door, McKenzie knocked. Rob opened the door and let them in, his eyes watching Marissa, narrowed in suspicion.

  “It’s okay. I held a gun to her head ’til she bawled and told me the truth. She’s good now as long as I don’t let her brother kill her.” McKenzie waved them off as he plopped on the couch.

  Bobby stood in the hall, his face a mixture of confusion and fear as he locked eyes with Marissa.

  “I want to save the kids, Bobby. I don’t care if you still love me or not, but he was going to kill them if I didn’t let him take them. I’m so sorry, Bobby, but he held a gun on them. He was going to kill all of you.” Marissa started bawling again and Bobby only hesitated a moment before racing over to embrace her.

  McKenzie raised his eyebrows as he watched Rob chew on his gum furiously.

  “So, we’re gonna have an Old Farts reunion tomorrow with Chuck and Cliff.” McKenzie tossed back at the old man as John sat on the other side of the couch.

  “What they hell are they coming here for?” Rob’s cane tapped on the wooden floor as he came around and seemed to collapse into his chair.

  “We’re going on a good ol’ snipe hunt and will need a big boom to turn some heads.” McKenzie shrugged.

  “Dear God, McKenzie. I can’t keep the local blue or the Feds off of you if something like this goes south.” Rob rubbed his brow, his eyes squeezed shut.

  “Well, I don’t intend to attract too much attention, at least not ’til I have the kids. Then I want lots of attention at that place. I want the boys in blue and the Feds crawlin’ all up their asses while we get your grandchildren safely out of there.”

  Rob nodded thoughtfully, beginning to see the picture.

  “And before they find out the bad way, you may need to tell the lovebirds about your involvement in old man Mendez’s death. Apparently, Lorenzo knows, but they weren’t told exactly how ‘Bobby’s family’ was involved.” McKenzie glanced back at the light coming from the spare room in the hall.

  Rob nodded again.

  “I think I need a drink.” He finally muttered.

  “Make it two,” John spoke up.

  McKenzie smiled and held up three fingers, making Rob smirk as he stood back up.

  “I’ll get it, old man. Sit your crippled ass down. You need someone doin’ you a favor.” McKenzie chuckled as he walked to the kitchen.