Mafia Baby

CHAPTER FOUR

LOUIS

The Cadillac sped through the hallway with my convoy. I was going to make money by sealing illegal deals and endorsements. My mind rallied through random thoughts and imagination as usual. The men guarding the hallway that led to the abandoned factory didn’t look so friendly. It wasn’t as though I was in the mood to make new friends either. The ones I’ve made over the years have become enemies which says a lot about the ones I have right now. Conversely, I have become used to being turned against – it is kind of like a cliche in this line of doing business. I have sent bullets through the skulls of people who never thought I would do so. A general law guides us: trust nobody, even yourself. I didn’t believe the law until I saw him dying and I walked away with the intent that he deserved worse than death.

Our meeting point looked as though the owners packed up a few years ago; it had plants and structures that could still operate with minor repairs. The smell of sulfur filled the air; we probably arrived after a brief shoot-out. Men were unevenly dispersed around the environment, and buses parked behind each other. They looked ready against any attack, but I could swear on Mother Mary that they were not ready for me. No one ever is - I am a rattlesnake that strikes without warning. I took calculated glances at intervals as we walked toward the entrance, making sure to take the whole place into memory, in case I would need an emergency exit. It has always been my tradition to make visual assessments of anywhere I go.

“Code word,” a huge asshole said, placing one hand in his coat. He looked like the strongest among all the men I had seen so far. My men had a hand on their guns, too, ready for a counterattack. Things had gone south during a similar business deal. The person with the goods had gone to ally with another group - one that was intended to take me off. I lost James, my best man, in the mayhem. The attack was a call for me to invest more in security and prioritize the well-being of my men, also making sure that they are not too comfortable.

“Rattlesnake,” my right-hand man said with his thick and emotionless voice. Places like this are not easily accessible. Sophisticated security was always anticipated in places like this.

The asshole gave a nod to the other man, signaling that we should be given entry. Huge boxes and lockers were stacked around the whole place where we entered. My intuition told me that they were the goods I requested.

“You’re also one of those who don’t believe in the pandemic,” Madam Claw said from behind a desk she was sitting at.

“Yes, and I have to suggest that you feed your men well, a raise should do for them,” I replied. We should be used to our frequent teases.

She stared blankly at me for a while, probably trying to construct an appropriate response for me. Her presence would terrify a newbie in our line of business. Her wrinkled face, her stylish coats, her rolled hair, her oddly painted nails. Something about her seemed off. She pressed the cigarette in her left hand against the ashtray and stood to welcome me. Her men looked unconcerned, staring blankly forward, all adorned with wires and communicating devices.

“We’re paying with cash today,” I said. I made a hand signal to the man holding the box that contained the payment for the goods I was about to buy. “The government has started freezing accounts with suspicious transactions, and that is the last thing you’d want for yourself,” I continued. My relationship with Madam Claw was as though we were siblings who loved to annoy each other. Meanwhile, we both possess a level of respect for each other. She deals in the major tools and pieces of equipment for people like us - things we don't hesitate to buy.

“If you intend to mess with me on this one, you should think it over again,” she replied. I could understand her paranoia. I would do worse if I found myself in her shoes. I couldn’t risk wiring such a huge amount of money through electronic transactions. Although cryptocurrency was a suitable option, one couldn’t trust those trading platforms either.

“You’re gonna buy us the stress of having to use our counting machines again. f**k you,” she continued with annoyance. I didn’t seem to be moved, but my heart was beating out of its wits while I maintained external composure. I had no intention to beguile her. That is something I won’t indulge in, especially when purchasing goods. Rather, I enjoyed the thrill of annoying her slightly.

“Except that you’re not so cute for me to f**k,” I replied. “Can I have a look at what I want to pay for?” Of course, she knew that I would check out the goods before handing the cash over to her. She knew that I would always want value for my money.

“There.” She pointed at the boxes I had seen earlier, stacked over each other. Their contents looked more recent - the MAG, assault rifles. Everything. Claw meets expectations. Her vendors never disappoint. I picked up the handgun for inspection. Men from both sides pointed their ammunition at each other suddenly.

“You’re so unpredictable,” Madam Claw said with a smile. “There are defaulters at the basement if you wish to test the effectiveness of the guns,” she continued. “Now, take that thing off my face.”

“Bang! I love this particular one,” I said with a smirk. The gun felt firm and well in my hand. “Trust is something we don't compromise here in our world. Perhaps you forgot that the guns are not loaded yet. Or you don't trust your men to execute their jobs well?”

“Oh, shut up,” she sounded annoyed and offended this time.

I placed the briefcase containing the money on the table and opened it for Madam Claw to verify that the money was intact and complete before I ordered my men to stack up the goods in the trucks she provided for us.

There I was with my supplies, ready to take over New York City. May the holy mother have mercy on whoever opposes me, because I won't. Mercy is not for people like us to give.

Twenty-five minutes had passed when my men were done stacking the goods up in the trucks. I wondered why Madam Claw had remained silent as they carried out the task. Was she annoyed that I had pointed the gun to her face? She probably spent the whole time trying to make deductions out of the whole incident. Here, in our reality, every action is a clue for the other. Only the ones with a sharp sense of perception always scale through.

We drove out of the factory, maintaining the same arrangement we took while entering the factory. This time, the trucks containing the goods led the convoy. Nothing seemed to stop us, save the police at the checkpoints. My mind skipped a beat on thinking about them, but this whole city was under my fingertips. It still is.