Gemma's Daughter Page 7

  “She hooked up with some unsavory characters,” Sal said. “Particularly her boyfriend, a guy named Marco Cardoza.”

  “What’s unsavory about him?” Gemma asked, her face unable to hide her distress.

  “He’s a part of a cartel. A particularly nasty Colombian drug cartel.”

  “Colombian? She’s in Colombia?”

  Sal shook his head. “No, she’s here. They’re here, in America.”

  “Where?”

  “In L. A. I’m going to fly out tonight.”

  “I’m going with you,” said Gemma. “You’ve got to take me with you, Sal.”

  “I don’t got to do shit,” Sal said. “Your ass already did what I told you not to do. You think I’m going to let you go to L. A. to disobey me there, too, and possibly get your ass killed this time?”

  “I’m not going to put myself in danger,” Gemma pleaded. “You know that.”

  “I don’t know shit!” Sal yelled and hit the steering wheel. “I don’t know shit! You did exactly what I told you not to do. Now that woman can alert her contacts that somebody’s sniffing around about a particular person, when we don’t need that kind of exposure.”

  Gemma looked horrified. “You think, because I spoke with Sylvia Pendle, that I put my daughter in more danger?”

  Sal didn’t want to admit that she might have, because he didn’t want to put that kind of heavy guilt trip on Gemma. “It certainly didn’t help,” was all he would say.

  “You’ve got to take me with you, Sal,” Gemma pleaded. “Please. It’s my daughter we’re talking about.” Tears were in her eyes. “She may need me. I can’t sit this one out. You know I can’t!”

  Sal looked at Gemma and saw the tears in her eyes. And just like that, his anger was gone. And he leaned over and pulled her into his arms. He was a sucker for Gemma. Everybody knew it.

  Then he pulled back and stared his deep blue eyes into her big brown eyes. “But if you disobey anything I tell you to do, I’ll have you back in Vegas before your ass will know what hit it. Understand me?”

  Gemma was nodding and wiping her tears away. “Yes,” she said. “I understand.”

  Sal didn’t believe her. Gemma was headstrong when she wanted to be. But that was why he loved her too. And it was her daughter after all.

  He pulled her into his arms again.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  A van was already parked on the side of the road when their car drove up. Robby Yale was behind the wheel, and Sal sat on the front passenger seat. Gemma, on Sal’s order, was seated in the back. She was surprised Sal let her come at all. Robby drove up beside the van as the door was slid open and Pauley stepped out. Sal pressed down his window as Pauley walked up to it.

  “What we got?” Sal asked.

  “That apartment complex right over there,” Pauley said, nodding his head toward what looked like a rundown apartment building with numerous floors. “Marco and his men are holed up on the fourth floor. That’s the home base of his operation.”

  “What’s his poison?” Sal asked.

  “Drugs,” said Pauley. “What else?”

  “And the girl’s up there with him?” Sal asked. Gemma leaned forward to hear the answer when Sal mentioned her daughter.

  Pauley nodded. “She’s up there, yes, sir.”

  “You saw her?” Gemma asked.

  Pauley glanced in the backseat. He was shocked when he saw Gemma. Sal didn’t usually play that. “Mrs. Gabrini?” he asked. “I had no idea--”

  But Gemma was too anxious to know. “Did you see her?” she asked him again before he could finish his sentence.

  “I didn’t, no ma’am. But our guys said Marco’s woman is up there. He iced his wife some months ago when she found out he was fucking, I mean, excuse me, ma’am, when he was messing around. Marie Washington is the only other woman we know about.”

  “But that doesn’t mean it’s her?” Gemma asked.

  “No, ma’am, it might not be her. But all we can go by is our best information. Our best information is that Marco’s woman is Marie Washington.”

  Then Gemma realized what Pauley had also said. She looked at him. “He killed his own wife?” she asked him.

  Pauley looked at Sal. He could see Sal’s jaw tightened as if he didn’t want his wife to know that information. But how was Pauley to know that Sal would even bring his wife?

  “Pauley?” Gemma said. “You heard me. Did that man kill his own wife?”

  Pauley felt he was on the spot. But he also knew Sal would kick his ass if he ever lied to Gemma. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “At least that’s the information we have.”

  “Don’t worry, Gemma,” Sal reassured her. “We’ll get your girl.”

  Gemma nodded. “I know you will, Sal,” she said, but she couldn’t help but worry.

  “What’s the plan, Boss?” Pauley asked Sal.

  “How many guys in the van?”

  “Six in the van, and two already at the complex waiting for us to make a move. I say we go in tonight.”

  “Not tonight,” said Sal. “That Sylvia Pendle at the jailhouse in Vegas might have a contact in Marco’s organization, and got word to him that we’re snooping around. They may be expecting visitors tonight. We wait until just before daybreak, while their asses are asleep.”

  “But why would Sylvia Pendle have anything to do with this guy?” Gemma asked.

  “Sylvia Pendle snatched your girl,” Sal said. “Marco has your girl. I don’t believe in coincidences no matter how slight. That’s why I told your ass to stay away from her.”

  Gemma realized how narrowly she had been viewing everything, and how broadly Sal, a man with more experience in his finger than she had in her entire body, saw the picture. She regretted disobeying him.

  “Put more guys around that complex,” Sal said to Pauley. “I’m talking a heavy presence, but all undercover. Make sure they see if there’s any movement of people, especially of the female variety. They will have to make a move themselves if they see a female being moved around.”

  “Meaning?” Pauley asked.

  “They better not lose her,” Sal said and looked at Pauley. “Or I’ll be losing their asses.”

  Pauley nodded. He understood what that meant. “Yes, sir,” said Pauley, and then he was about to turn to get back into the van.

  But just as he turned, gunfire was heard at the complex at the same time that men began running from behind a building toward the car and van. And they had their weapons drawn.

  “Get down!” Sal yelled to Gemma and then jumped into the backseat between the bucket seats and threw himself on top of Gemma.

  “Back this fucker up!” Sal yelled to Robby as Pauley jumped into the van and both the van and car began making a retreat. They were outgunned two to one and they knew not to fight an unwinnable battle. Both vehicles were backing up.

  But as the gunmen began firing on those vehicles, Robby ducked down as he drove and Sal began firing back at them. The men in the van were firing back, too, even as they were making their hasty retreat.

  But the driver of the van was shot, causing the van to stop moving backwards, just as Robby ran the car straight into a brick pole, stopping their progression too.

  But as the gunmen began running toward the car and van, Sal opened the car’s back door.

  “What are you doing, Boss?” Robby yelled.

  “I’m saving my wife!” Sal yelled back. “I’ve got to get them to fire at me, and away from her.”

  “Sal, no!” Gemma yelled, pulling him back in.

  But Sal easily snatched away from her pull. “When I jump out,” he yelled to Robby, “get her out of here!” And then Sal jumped out of the car as Robby drove the wrecked car forward, turned quickly, and left the scene. Sal ran behind the van and the gun battle commenced. He and his men inside the van did all they could to beat back that oncoming tide.

  But Gemma was terrified for Sal. “Stop!” she was yelling to Robby. “We can’t leave him!”

/>   “He ordered me to get you out of here!” Robby yelled back at her. “I have to get you out of here!”

  “We can’t leave him,” Gemma cried. “We aren’t leaving my husband here to die, are you crazy? Stop, I said!”

  “But he told me to get you out of here!” Robby said.

  “Stop this car right now, Robby Yale!” Gemma yelled. And then she placed a gun at Robby’s head. A gun Robby didn’t even know she had. “I said stop, motherfucker, stop!” Gemma said firmly.

  Robby slammed on brakes.

  As the gunfire continued, Sal knocked on the door of the back of the van and the door was quickly opened. He jumped inside just as fast. “Everybody get out on the right side,” he ordered. “I’m going to drive straight toward those assholes. I want you to run with the van. And then I’m taking off. I’m going straight for Cardoza and the girl. You guys take out the rest of those motherfuckers coming for us now. Got it?”

  “We got it, Boss,” said Scrubs as he and PeeWee and the rest of Sal’s crew jumped out of the van, taking the dead driver’s body with them. Sal got behind the wheel, avoiding every bullet, and then began to drive toward the gunmen as the gunmen advanced on them. And he did as he said he would do. Sal aimed the van, got down, and kept his foot on the gas pedal as he drove straight for the gunmen.

  The gunmen, surprised, fired and fired shot after shot after shot. They jumped out of the way of the van to avoid being run over, and kept shooting at the van. And then Sal, when he began to see that bullets were coming from his left side, slammed on the gas pedal and sped away.

  As soon as the van sped away, Sal’s men stayed put, their weapons aimed, and began shooting the stunned gunmen in such a surprise attack that the gunmen didn’t stand a chance. Although two of Sal’s men were also hit, all of the gunmen were hit. All of them, eventually, fell. And Sal’s men began running for the complex, to help their boss there too.

  But they were too far behind for Sal to wait for them. He was, by now, sitting upright in that van and heading straight for that complex where he knew the main man, Marco Cardoza, was in hiding. But as soon as he neared the building, he took the rifle his driver kept beneath the seat, placed the barrel on the gas pedal and the handle against the front of the seat so that the van would continue to speed forward without a man at the helm, and then he waited until he was parallel with the woods. When he was at the right spot, he jumped out on the right side of the van and rolled his body until he was in those woods. The van, thanks to that rifle on the pedal, continued to drive forward. And Sal ran through those woods toward the backside of the complex even as those inside the complex began to fire on that van. Which was exactly what Sal was hoping they’d do.

  As the gunfire continued on the front side of the complex, Sal ran through the woods, across the dirt back yard, and into the back stairwell. He ran as fast as he could up stair after stair, until he was on the fourth floor.

  When he opened the fourth floor stairwell door, he saw men running out of one apartment, men that, based on the photos he had received, that included Marco Cardoza. But he saw no woman with them, and he saw where Marco had ordered two men to stay put. Which meant, to Sal, that something valuable was inside of that apartment. Something like Marco’s woman. Like Gemma’s daughter. Like Marie.

  Sal therefore made the hasty decision to not go after Marco. He’d leave his men to take him out. He, instead, decided to go after the precious cargo he came to get. But to do it would take trickery.

  Sal fired two successive shots at the wall on the far end of the hall, away from where the men were standing, and then he hid.

  The two men on the door immediately pulled out their weapons and began firing back. But as soon as they turned toward the sound of the gunfire hitting against that back wall, Sal fired on them. He quickly dispensed with both of them: he took them both out.

  And then he ran to that door and tried to open it. It was locked. He then leaned back and, with all the force he had, kicked the door in.

  When it opened, he pulled to the side in case there were gunmen inside the apartment. But when no gunfire erupted, he ran into the apartment. He had to run down a long hall and check out several empty rooms until he came to one room in particular. A room that was locked.

  Again, Sal leaned back and kicked that door in also. And he pulled back again, just in case. But when no gunfire came, he ran into that room, too, expecting nothing, and everything.

  And that was when he saw her.

  She was sitting on the floor of that room, naked and chained like a dog by her hands and her feet and the center of her body was also tied to the bedpost by a thick rope. It was as if she was his prisoner rather than his woman. And she looked, to Sal, as beautiful as she looked horrified.

  Sal could have asked if she was Marie.

  He could have asked if she was Marco’s woman.

  But he didn’t have to ask her anything. Because, as he was looking at this woman on that floor, it was as if he was looking at a very young, very scared Gemma. She was, in so many ways, the spitting image of his wife.

  She was, there was no doubt in Sal’s mind, Gemma’s daughter.

  At first he was stunned in place. He could barely breath, let alone move.

  But then she spoke in such a pain-laced voice that he snapped out of it. “Are you going to kill me?” she asked as if he was some rival gang member lusting after her naked body, and not who he was: the man there to rescue her.

  “No,” Sal said breathlessly, as if he couldn’t believe she would think such a thing of him. She was Gemma in the flesh. And she was afraid of him? He hurried to her.

  “Don’t be afraid. I’m here to help you,” he said as he began to untie the thick rope around her waist. She was shackled with chains on her hands and ankles, so he knew he wasn’t going to be able to remove them, but he was able to get her removed from that bed post.

  “I’m here to help you,” he said again, as he removed his suit coat and placed it around her body, and then he lifted her into his big arms and began carrying her out of that room, down that hallway. But then he heard footsteps running toward the apartment in the hall outside. And he quickly reversed course.

  He ran back into that bedroom and managed to carry Marie out of the window with him. The fire escape was steep, but they had no choice. Sal began hurrying down the fire escape as the gunmen ran into the apartment and headed straight for that bedroom. When they saw the window opened, they ran to that window. When they saw Sal carrying Marie down that fire escape, they began firing on them.

  The sound of bullets ricocheting off of the stairs terrified Marie, and she leaned into Sal. Sal had to stop walking and lean against the stairwell several times to avoid the onslaught of gunfire, as he couldn’t fire back and carry her too. But then a car sped up, and Robby Yale jumped out and began giving Sal and Marie cover with his own gunfire.

  Gemma, too, when she saw the predicament her husband and the woman with him were in, began firing from inside the car too. The gunmen backed off just long enough for Sal to finish his run down those stairs and over to the car. He all but threw Marie into the backseat where Gemma was, Robby got in behind the wheel, and Sal got into the backseat, too, beside Marie. And Sal started firing as Robby sped off.

  Gemma was stunned when she saw the young lady sitting beside her. And the young lady snuggled into Sal’s double-breasted suit coat, was stunned when she saw the woman sitting beside her. It was as if they were looking into a mirror. And neither could say a word.

  “Did they get him?” Sal anxiously asked Robby.

  “I don’t know yet,” said Robby. “We had to come the back way in.”

  “I thought I told your ass to get my wife away from here, not to bring her back in,” Sal said.

  “She held me at gunpoint,” said Robby with a twinge of anger. “She said we weren’t leaving you. She forced my hand, Boss. She was going to kill me if I didn’t come back and help you.”

  Sal inwardly smiled. That was hi
s Gemma. But when he looked at her, he frowned. “Disobey me again,” he warned her.

  But then he thought about their additional problem: Marie. And he could only wonder what would she bring to their lives.

  Gemma wasn’t thinking that deeply. All she could do was stare at the young lady that was now sitting beside her and wrapped snuggly in Sal’s suit coat. She was now in the flesh. She was now right where she wanted her to be. She was safe.

  But Marie didn’t know what to make of her sudden change in circumstance either. She was away from Marco, which was the best part about it. But she was now surrounded by all of these strange people. Who were they?

  And Gemma, she thought. She looked so familiar to Marie! Who was that lady? Was she a sister she never knew she had? Some other relative? Or was she . . . She looked too young to be her mother. But she looked so familiar that it spooked Marie.

  And Marie, unable to handle it all, leaned away from this familiar woman who was Gemma, and toward Sal, the man who had rescued her. He had rescued her: he had a track record with her now. But Gemma? Who was she?

  Gemma could see that Marie and Sal, by virtue of his rescue, already had a bond, which she knew would serve them well in the long run. But right now, Gemma was too traumatized to see the long run. She could only see what was in front of her right now.

  She could only see her daughter.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Marco Cardoza picked up a chair and threw it against the wall. Then he picked up another chair and threw it too. He was so enraged that the few members of his posse that had survived the onslaught was more afraid of his rage than any bullet that could have come their way.

  “How could she get away from me?” he was yelling. “How could you let her get away from me! When I found out about that arrest, I hid her. I protected her. And they still took her?”

  “We did all we could, Marco,” said Ruiz, his second-in-command. “We did all we could!”

  “Call the cartel,” Marco said. “Tell them they took what’s mine. And I want her back. Tell them we are at war!”