The French Connection
It's a fickle thing memories are. They can never be forgotten, but they can be repressed, alter certain shapes and events to allow the thinker to sleep better at night. Seventeen years is a long time to hold onto memories that should have been buried with those involved. Not for Armando; he would have loved nothing more than to go on living like an outsider from his Saint brethren, to live with his brother. However, the things he did for the sake of being with someone who understood him better than his friend Antwon did, he was not ready to put his past to bed just yet. He sat in Drew's underground sauna feeling energized as his brain took him to the first memory he had when he became a co-founder of Saints Row.
1986: The year where Stilwater's inhabitants were all live and let live with themselves, and not worry about what was going to happen to them in the next few minutes. Throughout the '80s era, the city didn't thrive on fear, not in every street corner anyway. There were those who took their newfound freedoms and use it as a way to inspire people to never be ashamed of what they were. Not that anyone needed a reason to be proud it was just good that they had one. This inspiration started with a burnt out Church, the color purple, and two educated street kids from Sunnyvale Gardens. Julius Little and Benjamin King had been friends since the MC Gonzalez days of '76. Although they didn't always see eye to eye on running a crew together, they had enough street smarts to make their ideas work.
The inception on becoming a symbol for Stilwater was never quite known among the Saints of old and recently canonized. It was a story Julius only told Benjamin. The year 1981 was where they got their start. They left Sunnyvale after driving back the Carnales with just four street kids and Ben's hardened father, Eric. They went into the heart of gang territory. 3rd Street was originally a neighborhood controlled by an enforcer named Victor of Los Carnales. It was no secret the Carnales were the oldest and most powerful gang in the city.
They had their fingers in everything: drug trade, sex, weapons, politics, and with all that power coming from the Colombians as their backbone. Alejandro Lopez, the founder of Los Carnale, was an unapologetic leader who spoke with more than just his bare fists. His two sons Hector and Angelo stood by his side as they invoked fear to those who didn't follow their order. It was becoming too extreme for most people so towards the end of 1984, after Christmastime, Julius and Ben thought it was best to start an uprising against them. Granted, other street kids who got the short end of the stick from the Carnales wanted to go to war with them too, but that train of thought ended up with them in pieces inside garbage bags.
This was where the conflict between Julius and Ben started. One wanted to rally as many street kids as possible, teach them to think before leaping, and when all the angles are figured out, strap up and go to war to show not everyone in Stilwater was afraid of them. Ben had another angle that required three main components his father instilled in him as a young boy: Build, watch, and act. Julius had a personal hatred for the Carnales, but he put that to the side for the sake of keeping their idea alive. For a year and a half, both explored Stilwater for all it had to offer, to get a feel for the struggle and potential if they were to run things that benefitted the people rather than themselves.
They met and rolled with some good people along the way; Armando and A.J. being the first two to have been approached by Julius. They managed to graduate High School by the skin of their teeth without so much as a goal on where to go in life. Another one who grew up in the projects named Denzel Tate was approached by Benjamin. He had the build of a Football player and a laid back human being to not get mixed up in drama. Another one Julius found in Chinatown; he steered clear from him due to his appetite for guns and joyriding without a care in the world.
From late 1984 to mid-1986, it was just Julius, Ben, Denzel, Armando, and A.J. living at the Church on the Row. Together, they retook the neighborhood and drove Victor back to the Carnales. It wasn't easy on their end, knowing Victor somehow had the ability to soak a lot of their bullets like a sponge. Luckily, thanks to some ingenuity and a rocket launcher by Julius, they were left with an open street corner with dead bodies laid in their wake. It wasn't much, but they had a roof over their heads and most importantly supporters who saw change happening in a positive way.
There were worse places to call home, and they just ran out the worst of the worst to make a new one. Tonight was the night Julius told Ben as they were looking at a bulletin board of the Lopez family tree. Street gossip was a beautiful thing since the takeover on 3rd Street. Grateful sources have been walking up to the Church on Sundays for their morning prayer. They have also fed rumors about Alejandro Lopez throwing a lavish party at his mansion; for reasons they didn't know yet. It was by the airport which granted the Saints a few side entrances to sneak in. However, Ben wanted to do what they were about to do without getting dirt on their cufflinks.
"You know going through the front door is a bad idea, right? That's usually my plan." Julius said.
"I got it all figured out, man. If we play this right, there won't be any blood on their expensive floor." Ben replied looking at the Lopez profiles.
"Wearing a suit isn't my thing; too constricting. I'm still reeling from that goddamn spine injury Victor did to me."
"One of these days, you gonna have to get your hands dirty and start looking at the big picture, Jules. One neighborhood takeover isn't going guarantee respect from the people. We still got to prove our colors are a symbol of progress."
"Yeah, but why purple? At least green would show we're not a couple pansies looking for handouts." Julius sighed sitting down, thinking things over. "Maybe I'm overthinking it. I mean, it's not like they're gonna recognize us since we wore bandanas over our mouths that day."
"See, positivity does wonders for your thinking. Keep that up, and I don't have to hear you complain about getting gray hairs on your head. Look, the first part of the plan is simple." Ben said laying the floor plan of mansion. "We go in tight, get a feel for our surroundings, and enjoy a shrimp cocktail before we dash. But first we need that shipping manifest which should be in Mr. Orejuela's office."
"I'll get my nigger A.J. on that." Julius suggested. "Put a suit on him, people will think he's from Harvard."
"Cool, Armando will back him up if Manuel doesn't buy it. Big D and I will observe the other silk suits and their spicy dames for any gossip on Carnales dealings. Anything we can do to shit on their parade is a win in my book."
"Good enough for me. I'll have Armando pick up the guys and meet you back at your dad's tailor shop in Sunnyvale."
"Let's get this shit started, my brother." Ben said, liking the plan.
When 3rd Street was won back for the people, favors were getting handed to the purple thugs freely. The Church on the Row was their main base of operations, but there were also evicted houses around the area for Armando, A.J., and Denzel to go to if they wanted to stay low. Most of the time, the Church itself kept a low profile whenever a red Cadillac decided to cruise down the street at two in the morning. Antwon was living in a one level bachelor pad near the Highway Ball Courts; it was a great feeling living on his own and no parents telling him what to do. Then when he realized he didn't have a mom or dad to get yelled at or beaten, it kind of tore him up a bit.
Before meeting Julius for the first time, he was living in a foster home with four Caucasian sisters, going to Stilwater High where he met Armando for the first time in their freshman year. They met under awkward circumstances, but those circumstances alone made them friends. As much as A.J. loved being with older, hotter sisters, they all had boyfriends who wanted to tear his head off. It was funny at first; they all acted like Prince Charming around them to the point where it made him feel suffocated. For awhile, he stayed with Armando and his newfound uncle, Ferdinand Mendoza.
The day he proved himself Saint-like was the night a few low level Carnales members started robbing stores, pulling people out of their homes, and executing them on the spot. Armando and A.J. manned up and took a few down trying to take away his little brother, Carlos as a poco potencial guerrero (potential little warrior). Julius was in the neighborhood back then, saw them having what it takes to protect their own. He offered them a way to make a difference, and since then they have been doing covert jobs at night.
Together, they stopped home invasions; Brown Bagger stores weren't getting robbed as much. In the end it was all about respect Julius told them. Gather enough from the people and they'll help fight back the Carnales in whatever way they could. Things were looking up for a young man fornicating with the pleasures of the flesh. Meeting a British foreign exchange student in High School, he has been dating fine vanilla dimes and dashing out before their fathers load up their shotguns. One Wednesday morning was shining bright downtown. A.J. was chilling on his couch, playing video games when he heard a knock at his front door. He grabbed his NR4 pistol and looked out his window before answering the knock.
"Ey, what's good hermano?" A.J. asked as they hugged each other.
"It's all good, brother. Hey listen, Jules and Ben wants us to meet them at Impressions in half an hour."
"Shit, is it tonight?" He asked feeling excited.
"You know King. His father makes the best suits in Stilwater. We're going to be looking like millionaires at that party."
"Whoa hold on. We got to wear suits? Fuck that!" He said turning away with Armando walking inside.
"Aw, come on. You really want to blow our chance to kick the Carnales right in the cojones? It's just for one night." Armando pulled his arm as they went to his car.
"Dawg, why do we have to wear suits? Why not just storm the place like the Greeks did in the Odyssey? Put an RPG in Big D's hand, and it's all over."
"Jules doesn't want a repeat of 3rd Street. It was only us against thirty Carnales members plus Victor. I know you've been swimming through the granny panties of our female species, but we got shit to do, son."
"Fuck you. The granny fetish was just an experiment in my junior year." He said with Armando giving him a smirk. "Okay, I like opening my presents before playing with them. Sue me. Sorry if I sound like a bitch this morning. I've just been going through some stuff, you know?"
"You're my best friend, A.J. You don't have to apologize to me." He said starting up his car and driving off. "Just…don't tell King about the granny panties. He'll never let you live it down."
"You got a point there. Let's go pick up Big D at his girl's crib."
Denzel Tate was practically the only guy in Stilwater who could match Victor in strength and stopping power. When they fought in the summer of '85, Denzel knew how to throw a punch. Interesting enough, Victor knew how to take one when bullets were running past his back. He would've taken him down for good if it wasn't for the sweat running down his eyes. They were burning his vision and Victor had gotten the upper hand even if it was just for five minutes.
By the time he was the only man left standing he took off and left the neighborhood to the Saints for good. Denzel wasn't much the same after that; he really wanted to bring Victor down once and for all so that maybe the Carnales would scatter, but it wasn't as easy as he led himself to believe. Luckily, he met somebody with a heart as big as his. Her name was Renee. Besides being a freak in bed, she knew how to cook, clean, and maintain a job with her charisma working at the "Off the Racks" clothing store.
They met sometime after the 3rd Street takeover. Since that time, not Armando or even King had seen neither hide nor hair of Big D. As they drove to Renee's house, A.J. suddenly realized it was their one year anniversary. Knowing his history of dating the big gals of Stilwater, the imagery of their senior prom was etched into their minds forever; especially when A.J. got drunk and was playing "hide the corsage" with his date, Suzy Atwell. He was getting nervous as they pulled up to her house.
"I swear to god, that nigga better be wearing drawers by the time he opens that door."
"That was senior prom, man. When are you going to let it go?" Armando laughed.
"Yeah, keep laughing Mr. Eligible Bachelor. At least your girl didn't laugh in your face when you sang an Irish folklore with a giant."
"Oh yeah…that was funny." He said knocking on the door.
It was just as A.J. feared. The door went wide opened with The Kronic 92.2 playing in the background. Hip hop beats were going the same motion as Denzel's cigar smoke flowing from his mouth.
"What's gooooooood, my purple brothas?" He said acting relaxed.
"Thank the fucking lord you got drawers on, dawg. Get dressed. We got to meet Ben and Jules over in Sunnyvale."
"Is that punk bitch Victor gonna be there?"
"For our sake, we hope not." Armando replied.
"Boo, are those your boys out there?"
"Uh…nah just girl-scouts selling cookies!" He shouted.
"Do any of them have peanut butter with the chocolate kiss in the center?"
"Actually Renee, I found girl a scout right here who can service those…" Armando laughed as A.J. pushed him.
"Give me ten minutes, guys. I got some biz I need to finish up, ha hah!"
"He became a freak since Renee scooped him off his feet; literally." A.J. said as both went back to Armando's car to wait. "I'm gonna kick your ass one day, Mendoza. Just watch."
Born and bred in Stilwater; carefree but never afraid to whoop some ass if need be. Come to think of it Armando thought as they waited, Antwon and Denzel must have switched brains at one point. Big D was also not afraid of looking good for the ladies whereas A.J. was self–conscious all of a sudden about how he looked. He explained that it would make him forget who he was, corrupt him in a way. He saw how the system worked in the city.
Legal Lee was his one gripe when it came to ensuring justice; always giving the Carnales get out of jail free cards. It was because of the system four families lost their lives during the Row's takeover. In essence, he hated lawyers. Six minutes later, Denzel came out in his purple attire and all cruised to Nob Hill.
"Girl-scout cookies, D; is she ashamed of us now?" Armando asked.
"I held back. A.J. knows what I'm talking 'bout." He laughed.
"Once again, thank the lord you had drawers on. I love you man, but I don't swing that way." A.J. replied.
"It's all good. So what're we doing on Ben's old turf?"
"The big party is tonight at the Lopez mansion. We're meeting Ben and Jules for a suit fitting and go over the plan one last time." Armando said.
"Mr. Orejuela will be around greeting the guests so while I work my Ivy League magic, Armando will swipe the shipping manifest from his office. If all goes smoothly, we'll have a link to the Carnales drugs network."
"As long as Victor doesn't show his ugly ass face, I'm down with whatever Ben wants me to do." Denzel acknowledged.
"How was the anniversary?" Armando asked.
"A sexual paradise, amigo; making love to Renee felt like the first time we kissed. We went at it like two Walruses on speed."
"Are you sure she likes you calling her a Walrus?"
"Oh hell yeah, they're her favorite animals. No harm, no foul on the love handles. We spent the last two days at her place, eating like royalty so that's why I haven't been on the 3rd Street loop as much. Is there anything new from Jules?"
"Apart from the mansion bash nothing else besides gang activity in other parts of the city. Things have been quiet though." Armando updated him.
"So what's up wit'chu, Armando? Got any updates about your fulfilling love life?"
"This ought to be good." A.J. chuckled.
What love life? Armando hasn't been cruising in bathing suit bunnies since his High School days. That was before a revelation came knocking at his door. During his senior year, he found out he had a little brother back in Puerto Rico named Carlos. Carrying him was a fifty-three year old vegetable cultivator named Ferdinand Mendoza. That was when it clicked in his head about the resemblance between him and Carlos.
His brother was only four years old at the time; a happy, energetic kid with a hell of an imagination. Armando didn't remember much about his past in Bayamon where he was born. It was common among Saints that they came from humble, yet unfortunate circumstances that led them to the gang life. All he remembered was a massive hurricane that swallowed him up and the next thing he knew, he was washed on a shipping boat sailing to America. What led to the hurricane was still a big mystery.
Ferdinand filled in the blanks on how Carlos was conceived, saying their mother and father were going to a candy store to pick up some salt water taffy and some coconut milk for the heat wave that was to come their way. Weather reports gravely misinterpreted Mother Nature's plan for the lovely island; so a rainstorm started happening. Sometime after that, wind gusts sounding like ghostly screams passed through their house. He remembered getting carried by someone who said, "Espera, sobrino. Si los padres están a la espera de nosotros, en un lugar seguro. Estaremos con ellos pronto." (Hold on, nephew. Your parents are waiting for us at a safe place. We'll be with them soon.)
Sooner didn't come quick enough. Ferdinand's car wasn't working; nobody in the neighborhood lent a helping hand, mostly because everybody evacuated their homes and made a break for shelter outside Bayamon. By the time they reached where his parents were, they were standing at the docks in Fajardo when…then his uncle stopped after that. Armando wanted to know more, but to expose the outcome of his tale would have been too much for Carlos in Ferdinand's eyes. "One day, he told him, when Carlos becomes a young man and has understood how harsh reality is, I will conclude the tale."
From that abrupt ending on, they remained a tight knit family living in Stilwater. He didn't really approve of Armando living with a bunch of thugs on 3rd Street, but being used to have to fight for everything including his life Ferdinand had a new respect for his nephew. His clique was a lot better suited than the pedejos running the Carnales. Over the years, Armando has proven responsible, helping his uncle with his garden as well as taking care of his little brother. He grew quite fond of him though how he came to be was still fuzzy after everything that went on in Puerto Rico.
Now he was living his own life with people he trusted for the most part. It was a good thing King and Julius were the educated thugs of the group, but the others caught on. Entering Nob Hill was like entering another era in Stilwater's history. They were out of the greasy frying pan and into the boring world of finger foods and money wasting douchebags. It wasn't long until they reached the Impressions store. When they went inside the store, Denzel couldn't wait to be looking fresh for the night to come. A female store clerk welcomed them to Impressions; she was none other than Ben's sister, Angela.
"What's good, Angie?" Denzel said looking around the store. "When they said the suit makes the man, they weren't lying."
"We got suede, coats, retro chic, pinstripe, tuxedo; anything for the man to look good around expensive friends." Angela said.
"Expensive is right. We can't afford this shit." A.J. said reading a price tag.
"Oh don't worry about it. My daddy got you all hooked up with suits in the back. Ben and Jules are waiting for you guys."
"Thanks sweetheart." Denzel replied going to the back.
"Take it easy." Armando said.
Grabbing Armando's arm, she asked him "How's Jules doing? Has he ever mentioned...?"
"I think it's best you talk to your brother about that." He replied walking towards the back room.
They saw three men in sharp suits that were flashy enough for them to blend in with the Carnales types. Ben already thought ahead for Antwon when he had him try on a black tuxedo. He changed his mind quickly when he went to the dressing room, hoping to transform into 007. Denzel was rocking an Olive Stripe Vested suit with a green striped tie to match. Ben was sporting a black Calvin Klein number with dark brown leather shoes and a blue tie whereas Julius went corporate casual with a dark yellow business shirt, switching up the style a bit. As for Armando, he was the last to come out to show the homies what he was working with. He wore a dark grey Tommy Hilfiger with a bold, dark red tie to complete the look.
"Looking sharp my brother." Denzel told Armando.
"If only we were going to this thing to pick up some hot senoritas." A.J. said as everybody looked at him weird. "What, can't a brother have an open mind?"
"You kids today. At least y'all know how to clean up good." Ben's father said.
"These look great, pops. Thanks for hooking us up to that party." Ben thanked him.
"No problem son; don't get shot tonight, you feel me?"
"Gather around men." Julius said to everybody. "We finally have an in to the Carnales shindig tonight. Now, we're not going there to start any drama or flexing our rep like it's a goddamn sword. We stick to small talk with the locals, and only broaden our pitches with the business types. It seems simple enough. Ben?"
"Simple is not the word I'd use, Jules. Apart from meeting Manuel Orejuela, the mansion is going to be heavily guarded. We wore bandanas over our mouths on the Row's takeover so they shouldn't recognize us. Our pitch is a new drug product that is making money in underground circles. We tell them we're ready to come up for air and put our product on the street."
"What're we selling?" A.J. asked.
Ben put a hazel bottle on the table in front of the guys and said, "Mortimer 210. It's a new brand of metabolic steroid that helps you eat as much as you want and never gaining a single pound. There are only two downsides to this drug: it doesn't give the user muscle mass like other steroids do, and it also gives you a compelling need to bang your head against the wall."
"That should be fun to watch." Armando chimed in.
"If we play our cards right, the people we talk to will just take our word for it." Julius said.
"I assume if a bodybuilder takes this shit, they'll die on the spot?" Denzel asked.
"That is where the substitute comes in." Ben said putting another bottle on the table. "Keep in mind, at the party there is going to be businessmen, professional drug dealers with their third wives; shit maybe the Colombians might show. Something big is going down tonight with Alejandro Lopez."
"It might be political related." Armando replied. "My uncle told me he has been seeing Alejandro and Mayor Benning on the news a lot."
"He might show up, the Mayor. He's one shady motherfucker. His term should've been up years ago. Word is the Carnales have him in their back pocket, turning a blind eye to their gang activities; shit like that." Julius explained.
"All I know is that we need to get that manifest from Manuel. He'll have a copy machine in his office so Armando will make a duplicate while A.J. talks brass tax with him."
"That sounds good to me." A.J. agreed.
"The substitute for Mortimer 210 will have a heart burn side effect. It's non-lethal so there shouldn't be any casualties. The party's at 9, gentlemen. We're about to head into the lion's den." Julius said with determination.
The Lion's den was something A.J. rather took to heart than getting frisked heading into the mansion. Nine o'clock came around and the five entrepreneurs planned a 9:20 fashionably late time to avoid Carnales suspicion. Nobody who wasn't high on Alejandro's list showed up late, but by the time they reached the mansion it was a mad house out front. Guests and other expensive suits were lined up getting searched by house security. "Keep cool..." Antwon kept telling himself as they got closer.
Julius and Ben took point with Big D following behind them. Soon after they were cleared to go, Ben insisted security Big D didn't have anything to hide besides his short fused temper when being frisked. He cracked his knuckles a bit to get the message clear before they let him through as well. Armando held out his arms and felt nervous while one of the guards was looking at him like he saw him before. Apparently, he recognized his uncle back in Bayamon when he used to buy avocados from his small grocery store.
It was the mutual small talk of fine Spanish vegetables that won him his pass inside. Conveniently, Antwon was the last one to enter before the doors closed behind while guests were still clamoring on getting in; all good so far Ben told his posse. There was nothing legal about the amount of blood money going into the mansion; red and white colors with a sultan vibe to the architecture from the top and bottom floors. Guards were also at every door, even the bathrooms. Luckily, there was food and plenty of people to talk about their new "drug" pitch. People were going to be sweating tonight Denzel told them, and not just the green chili peppers on the buffet line.
The five split up to their respective places to mingle until the big jefe arrives with his special announcement. Armando walked casually around the buffet tables as he was looking on the upper floors for any sign of the Colombian Liaison himself. A.J. decided to join him.
"Bro, the Lopezes got some nice shit in here." He said admiring the place. "That Spanish knight would look good in my gym."
"You don't have a gym at your place." Armando replied trying some red wine.
"Give it time, I will. Alright, let's go over our roles one more time. When we see Manuel, we go in tight, you let me do all the talking, and if he's interested take that as your cue to go to his office and make a copy of that manifest."
"I already got the samples on me. Ben and Julius look like they're sealing the deal." He said.
Being Sunnyvale born tends to instill good presentation. Ben ran into a mob boss from Ireland as he and Jules gave their pitch on Mortimer 210. It was going to be their first customer they thought since he had a sideways growth spurt with his Baywatch looking wife. Armando then turned to Denzel giving the same speech to a few high rollers looking for a new product for their Las Vegas underworld. Nothing was out of the ordinary so far; each of them blended with the crowd like they have been going to crime lord bashes for years.
Within an hour of pitching to four intriguing parties, Ben and Jules got some money out of the deal. One thing they learned back in the '80s was many crime bosses don't get up and move around very much. All they do was go from one flashy limo to the next, going to business dinners and fattening themselves up a lot more. They guessed the number of crème brulees and smoked out cigars clouded their common sense to do a push up or twenty. Before they knew it, an announcement was about to begin for Alejandro. The announcer on the other hand was someone Armando didn't expect. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She held a mic in her left hand as she spoke in an attractive French accent.
"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you the man that has brought us all together this evening, Sr. Alejandro Lopez." She said as the lower floor cheered with him emerging.
El jefe himself wasn't bad looking for a man in his mid-60s. His two sons, Hector and Angelo came out to greet the guests as they stood by their upstanding father. She gave him the mic with a vibrant smile after they kissed each other on the cheek. Armando and the others moved in closer to get a sense of how much of a Samaritan front he was putting on in front of his colleagues. From Julius's point of view, Alejandro didn't seem like the person with something to hide.
"The lovely young lady you just heard is my son, Hector's fiancé, Arianna Beland. Let us give them a round of applause." He said as people clapped. "I'm a man of observation, of structure. When Hector first brought her to this house, her background had me floored. She has an admiration for nature, loves to spend time in the unnatural habitat studying plant life and has taken a liking for wolves. Well, I snapped her out of it and now she has a mind for the empire business.
There is a thing about being a Lopez that…there are constant challenges in your wake and people wishing to see you fail. In Colombia where I grew up, there was peace, but also desperation. Mi amor, Valencia conceived two miracles that would stand with me as we retook our misfortune, and transform it into a takeover. She…no longer stands with me. I have established myself well with the Colombian syndicate for over forty years. Some of my colleagues are here tonight, celebrating our lifelong journey fighting side by side to take what was rightfully ours.
In that span of time, we as Los Carnales took over the biggest network of drug distribution in the states, California. Stilwater and I had our differences, it's true, but for the good of the people and our bank accounts, he laughed, we have secured our spot as the number one drug empire of America. I owe that feat to my family, and to you, my countrymen. Here's to you: Victoria puede ser para siempre." (May victory be forever.) He praised as the room filled with applause. Hector and Angelo embraced him on their past efforts coming full circle. He continued his speech which led to a shocking surprise. "I stand humbled, to be among friends tonight. It has been a feeling too parted from my heart.
I am nearing the end of my life; not because of illness or a decaying mind. You were brought here for one reason, and that reason shall change the way this empire thrives for years to come. Mayor Benning, my dear friend and valuable resource to all the back doors of this city, is regrettably standing down from his post due to a heinous controversy concerning a...personal manner. He couldn't find the words to explain what happened; so he called me personally around four o'clock in the morning to give me the news.
He said, "I am sorry my friend. I cannot be the backbone of this city anymore. You know Stilwater. You understand what it needs to survive, and so I graciously offer my Mayor seat to you. Carry on the accomplishments I have done. You have my undying faith." I couldn't speak for five minutes when I was offered such a position. How does a man in my position choose to go public with a history of blood and violence? Answer is simple: I just took it." He blatantly spoke while the crowd laughed. "Come next year, you will be looking at your brand new Mayor of Stilwater. However, the business my sons and I have molded will not go astray. Hector, Angelo, Arianna, Victor, as of this moment, you four will be taking over the entire business as I set up my new post running for office."
Angelo put the mic up to his mouth, choked by the turn of events happening before him. "I'm proud of you dad. We are all proud of you. We'll make sure Los Carnales lives on in your name."
"Thank you mi hijo." He said, embracing Angelo and turning his attention to Manuel. "Manuel, you have stood by my side through my time as founder of this family, never questioned my judgment. Do you think I am capable in going legit?"
"This is a bold move you are taking, my friend." Manuel said. "The Colombians and I will back you on whatever decisions you make in office."
"Que no le defraudará, jefe. Usted tiene mi palabra." Victor spoke.
(We won't let you down, boss. You have my word.)
And with that, every person standing and stuffing their faces in honor of the Lopez claim to fame praised him on his decision to take the Carnales to new heights. That was when the sales pitch for Ben's phony steroids was ceasing to hold any weight. He kept finding his sample bags on the floor with people shoving past his shoulders. Julius was helping out while nodding his head in disappointment over the news. Denzel took a walk over with no luck on selling people Mortimer 210, hoping Armando and A.J. would fare better than they did.
"No luck with you guys on that steroid?" Denzel asked Ben.
"I thought it would provide us a loophole in the Carnales shipments. It's up to those two now." Ben said looking at Armando.
"Alejandro in the flesh, Julius replied drinking from his wine glass, I have never heard so much bullshit in my life: an old crime boss with two psycho sons becoming Mayor for Stilwater? Give me a break."
"Keep in mind, their drug and gun shipments are what keep them in business. It's what keeps this city afloat. With Hector and Angelo running the gang, they're going to rely on that manifest more than ever. We sabotage those deliveries, it'll put Alejandro's gateway to politics on hold."
"Hey, there's Victor." Denzel said looking up where Hector and Arianna were. "Boy, would I love a rematch with that bitch."
"One day soon, homie. One day soon." Ben assured him.
For a night of celebration, the night was moving slower than molasses. Manuel walked back with Alejandro to his office while Hector whispered in Arianna's ear about overseeing the festivities. She appeared in an enticing form Armando thought looking at her. He felt like he was frozen in time, like everything else around him were nothing but echoes and random noises. She had black hair with red streaks to resemble the Carnales colors, light tan skin with steely brown eyes that blessed whatever bile or expensive toy it had set on.
It was no more than two and a half minutes until those very same eyes met his tired vision, but before the mansion he had never felt so awake. Not only that, Arianna wore an elegant, fire engine red dress that hugged her curves with the lower end of the dress flowing at her heels. The more he stared at her, the back of his throat dried up, and felt the effects of Ben's phony drug even though he never sampled it. It has been a while since he immersed himself in the dating scene; mostly he kept himself within distance whenever he hung out with A.J. and the others. He tried getting back in, but every time he did his uncle came a calling. Not to mention he felt fuzzy yet scarred from how his life "ended" in Bayamon, and being reborn again in the form of a little brother and a hard assed uncle.
For the past the few years being a street kid in purple, lowering Carnales numbers at every scarce chance they got, he made excuses for himself not to have a go for the ladies again. As he stood at the buffet table in a trance, A.J. bumped into him eating a plate of rice and green beans. One wrong step and he would've dropped the plate on the ground and his cover blown. However, he was more concerned about what Armando was drooling at if not for the muy bueno spoils of turf wars.
"You awake, man?" A.J. asked startling him. "You gotta try this; brown rice, green beans with some good ol' fashion pig roast on the side. No wonder these beige fat cats never saw a treadmill in their lives."
"Do you ever stop eating? Keep that up, and you'll end up like these fat cats."
"Remember when I went to jail after that Tee 'N' Ay fiasco last year?"
"Oh yeah, when you motor boated that one dancer with the double D's and the Jlo voice." He said chuckling. "That was fun when the cops got there."
"Funny for you; it wasn't even my fault. I had a few drinks in me when I went Captain Ahab on them titties. Next thing I know, I was getting dragged outside by some pissed off construction worker with a baseball bat. I woulda dropped his ass if I was sober."
"You're lucky she was drunk too. She wasn't even a dancer, ese. You picked her up off the street after your fifth or seventh beer."
"But that still doesn't explain why she was wearing a Stilwater High cheerleading outfit. Point is, I'll look like Big D if I ever go back inside. Now are you going to tell me why you…" A.J. stopped himself looking up at the main balcony where Arianna was standing. "When I said I was going to hook you up…"
"No need. She's a fascinante señora de misterio. (Mesmerizing lady of mystery)" He replied admiring her still.
"French women are naturally hot. But leave this one alone, brother. Didn't you hear what el jefe de stupido said? She's Hector Lopez's fiancée. She's marrying a crazy motherfucker. Hector will cut you up if you so much as say her name."
"You know, you really should listen to Ben's advice. Positivity goes a long way."
"I'm serious, Armando. Let this one go." He said seeing Manuel coming out. "Alright there he is. Show time."
Manuel Orejuela has been a personal friend and business partner to the Lopezes since the transition of Colombian civil war to a drug empire in Stilwater. Being a Liaison to the Colombian drug lords kept the bloodshed at arm's length; they have put loads of stock in the Lopez family when they settled in the states. He was a peacekeeper of sorts; especially when drug deals would get too hot between opposing parties. A.J. had his Mortimer 210 bottle ready as they went up the stairway to catch him before heading down to mingle with the others. As for Armando, he had a tendency to follow his instincts a little too often for anyone's taste.
He felt something when he looked at Arianna. He didn't know what that feeling was, but it was there nonetheless. For now he kept his distance until A.J. had him on the ropes on the new drug product and acting out his business side. As hard a man Manuel was to reach, his ears were always open to new ways for the Carnales to make money off the backs of hard working drug dealers. When he faced A.J. with upstanding posture and lighting a cigar, he put his game face on and began.
"Sr. Orejuela, just the man I wanted to see. Allow me to introduce me and my colleague here. I am Franklin V. and this is Enrico Vasquez."
"Um…always a pleasure to meet faces I've never seen before." Manuel said shaking Antwon's hand. "If you excuse me…"
"And I'd love to excuse you to talk business with your partners, but if you'd give us three minutes of your time, we have a new drug formula me and my entourage made."
"Have I seen either of you before?"
"Nob Hill, organizó un evento para recaudar fondos para los jóvenes hispanos, recaudar veinte y tres mil dólares." Armando brought up to save face.
(Nob Hill, you hosted a fundraiser for underprivileged Hispanic youths, raising $23,000.)
"Si; that was an amazing cause we did back in '83. It feels good to do right by others. You gentlemen were involved in the event?"
"Before Sr. Lopez's arrival in Stilwater, the Latino community was getting the short end of the stick. However, we'd like to contribute something more…beneficial to the Lopez business."
"Two minutes…" Manuel gave A.J.
"Excellent." He replied noticing a waiter serving champagne upstairs. "Enrico, would you get Mr. Orejuela some champagne, please?"
A.J. was persistent to get the bullshit talking fast and engaging to anyone who would listen. From where Armando was standing, it looked like he had Manuel's full attention with the steroid in hand for demonstration. He turned around and went back up the stairway when his shoulder got a dislocating shove by none other than Victor himself. They stared at each other for a solid five seconds with Victor giving him a dirty look and mumbling something as went about his business below. Arianna was still standing front and center, overseeing all the silk suit murderers who invade, kill, and god knew what else they had on their extensive rap sheets.
She was sipping champagne with an observant look in her eyes like she was keeping her eye out for someone important. Armando's heart was racing and was sweating under his constricting collar so he loosened up his tie to go introduce himself. He took one last look below to see Julius, Ben, and the others blending in while he did some blending on his own before getting the manifest. Making the first move to talk to a woman can be nerve wrecking; he felt he should be used to it out of the two girlfriends he had back in High School. He grabbed a champagne glass as he stood next to her, breaking the ice, "Hell of a speech Alejandro did. Who'd have thought Mayor Benning would step down from his seat?"
"He likes to embellish things. I have to admit though, never envisioned him taking the Mayor's seat."
"Much less going into politics, knowing what the Carnales do." He said as Arianna stared back at him. "Sorry, I'm kind of new at this."
"It's alright." She assured him. "So, are you a friend of Angelo's?"
"Not really; separate organization: Entrepreneurship. We're trying to get a piece of the drug trade."
"Say it any louder, and Victor might hear you." She said sipping her champagne. "I will never understand the meaning behind house parties. There has been tension between Hector and Alejandro behind closed doors. It's been lingering for months. Thankfully, his father's announcement kept them at ease."
"And where do you fit into this tension?"
"I cannot say. I look down there and see Haitian high rollers from Nevada, Hispanic bodyguards ready to jump in front of a bullet for their leader. Then there are Alejandro's colleagues laughing and enjoying their "alliance", all because they want to prevent bloodshed from spilling onto the city streets. Do you want to know what they all have in common?"
"Todos ellos están dispuestos a matarse los unos a los otros si Alejandro es la palabra."
(They're all willing to kill each other if Alejandro gives the word.)
"Perhaps I will too then. If it comes to down to it, we do what it takes to survive." She said before pausing. "I'm sorry, I tend to ramble myself." She put out her left hand and introduced herself. "Arianna Beland."
"Ar-Enrico Vasquez…" He replied kissing her hand.
"You seem distracted, Sr. Vasquez." She said observing his eyes.
"Um, it's nothing. It was nice to meet you." He nodded and smiled before turning away to go down the hall.
"Good luck…" She spoke to herself.
Time was running short and he still had to get the shipping manifest before Manuel came back. In the weeks following the house party, Ben and Armando studied the layout of the mansion. As weird as it sounded at the time, Manuel kept a separate office down the hall from Alejandro's. Maybe side deals were taking place Ben thought, but then it wouldn't make sense if Carnales eyes were always watching what he was doing, and boy were the bodyguards in red keeping their eyes fixed on Armando the moment he started talking to Arianna to when he walked away. Luckily, the whole time he was keeping an eye on Victor and the others to make sure he didn't get exposed for talking to Hector's fiancée.
Moving down the hall, he came across a brightly lit office where Angelo, Hector, and Alejandro spoke of their plans for the Mayoral transition. It didn't sound promising from all the Spanish cussing, but Arianna did have a point. He sensed the tension between the Lopez trio, more so from Alejandro like he didn't anticipate going into politics. Hector kept trying to explain how the public eye needed to see the Carnales in a more positive light, as opposed to Angelo keeping his tongue to his father's boot. One wanted peace for Stilwater while the other wanted to keep things business as usual.
"These cabrons can't decide anything." Armando shook his head as he moved towards Manuel's office door. Why was it unlocked he never knew, but all that mattered to him was he got inside. Unlike the house's interior, Manuel's office did have a Colombian feel to it. There were photos of when he was a kid, magazines of Playboy and Safeword girls to relieve the stress any man would have in his position.
Old records and expensive couches, all neatly placed as Armando made an effort not move anything out of place. Another thing they learned about him was that he was a meticulous businessman, can spot anything out of place regardless if it was a chair turned a different way or a manifest taken. Of all the nice things Manuel had, there was no copy machine to copy the manifest itself. All of a sudden, he dropped on his knees and hid under the desk when he heard footsteps coming into the office. The feel of the floor shaking under his feet told him Victor was close by; he didn't stay long though.
After a minute or so, Armando looked back up and checked the drawers to only find a notebook and a few loose pens lying around. It would've been too easy he thought so he checked behind the pictures, under the red chair cushions; then something clicked in his head to check the two bookcases sitting on both sides of the desk. As he kept looking, the intrigue on Manuel's face turned into boredom when A.J., Ben, Denzel, and Julius were trying to sell him on the Mortimer drug. It was pointing out the pros and cons from the four "entrepreneurs" while convincing him it would eventually become a major selling point in the drug market. After a while, he didn't want to hear it anymore.
"Alright gentlemen," He shouted. "You four really seem to be well versed in your product. If it was up to me, I'd take it under advisement. But my hands are tied at the moment, and my colleagues are very particular over what sells and what does not."
"Did we mention Mortimer can go the legal route for helping people lose weight?" A.J. asked.
"Three times, Franklin; I am sorry. The fact is you don't have any pull in this city, no references or even testimonials who tried this Mortimer 210. Therefore, your product is nonexistent in this city. Now if you excuse me…"
"You'll regret for not letting us in." Denzel said to him.
Ben nudged his arm after he spoke out of turn. Now we're really screwed A.J. said to himself. However, Manuel didn't hear him the first time so he asked, "I beg your pardon, young man?"
"Regretfully…agree. We regretfully agree you won't give us a shot at being sellers for Los Carnales. Bid-ness is bid-ness after all."
"We thank you for taking the time to listen to us, Mr. Orejuela." Ben brought up as Manuel nodded and walked away.
"Smooth save, D." A.J. said.
"Fuck. Too bad we can't be the eyes and ears of their drug trade, even if it's just a piece." Ben said.
"It doesn't matter." Julius replied with certainty. "Once Armando gets that manifest, the real work can begin."
"Build, watch, and act Jules. The manifest is our foundation to build on. We need to be smart about this."
"Wonder what's taking Armando so long." Denzel said.
The whole time turning Manuel's office upside down without putting a piece of paper out of place was a breathtaking feeling for him. Smoking fools in red on drive byes and preventing home invasions were fun an all, but being in the lion's den where his life could be over at any moment was invigorating. Then he snapped out of it until he finally found the manifest hiding behind a shelf of Spanish encyclopedias. He went back around Manuel's desk, got out a piece of notebook paper and started writing down the dates and cargo shipping in. He didn't have time to copy them all down; it was twenty-two pages thick of valuable items such as tailor made clothes, mods for their cars, jewelry from Syria, fifteen crates of AK-47s and semi-automatics.
Armando kept skimming through the pages with his heart racing still, copying down the major shipment dates and hitting those in hopes of putting a dent in the Carnales's reputation. By the time he felt he had gotten enough information, he hid under the desk again in frustration. It was the third time he was interrupted. Carnales soldiers; tooled up in red attire and bling to match while carrying rifles. They were walking past the office and when the coast was clear, he put the manifest back where he found it, took his copy and walked back out before anyone suspected anything curious. He saw Arianna downstairs with Hector mingling with the other guests.
He adjusted his suit and casually walked back to A.J. and the others. As soon as Julius saw him, he told them to follow his lead outside on the premises; a couple of off duty cops and their mistresses were enjoying their drunken escapades so they used that as cover while the guards were distracted. Before they knew it, they were back in Julius's '83 Destiny driving away without so much as exhaust fumes getting left behind. It was about a mile or two away from the mansion and out on the main road did the tight group burst out laughing in relief they didn't get caught.
"Woo, I thought we were done there for sure." Denzel said.
"I think I knew that cop we followed; one of Winslow's lapdogs." Armando pointed out. "Man, as soon as he started singing…"
"If Victor was there, I don't even want to think about it. I know I give lawyers a lot of shit, but hey they know how to dress well." A.J. replied checking himself out.
"You handled yourself well back there, Antwon. For a while, you had me convinced you were an actual businessman." Ben said as everyone laughed.
"So Armando, brother did you find that manifest?" Denzel asked stretching his neck.
"That's what I want to know." Julius said.
"It was like finding a needle in a fucking haystack." He replied giving the written paper to Julius. "I managed to jot down some of the major shipment dates they got coming in near the meat packing district. There's about fourteen dates we can hit, but it'll be tricky keeping track of them all."
"Armando's right." Ben agreed. "Alejandro is an old school type leader. He always oversaw the shipments in one location because his security detail keeps a tight lock on anybody making a scene. But since Hector and Angelo will be running things now, the location may change."
"We're going to need more people on our side." Julius suggested out loud. "The five of us ain't gonna cut it anymore."
"I'm with you on that, Jules." Ben replied.
"My grandfather knows some people up in Nob Hill who can help us out. I can bring them down to the Row. They're good guys." Denzel said.
"Chinatown's a good place to recruit too. There's this kid who knows his way around weapons…a little too damn well for my taste. I'll take a ride tomorrow and look for him." Julius said.
"It sounds like we got this shit locked down for now." Ben chimed in, before giving them a reminder. "I know I sound like a broken record…"
"Angela's homemade cheesecake can make you feel whole again." Julius pointed out.
"Uh-huh…like I said we need to be smart about the direction we're taking. Before we met you guys, Jules and I were running a small gang back in Sunnyvale. We didn't know what the hell we were doing at the time. Good thing there was a Friendly Fire nearby to smoke those fools in red from taking over. It was only us and my Dad left standing. I just want to be sure that shit doesn't happen with us."
"If there's one thing I've learned hanging with you guys, is that as long as we focus on why we're doing this in the first place, we'll be alright. As for you two, Denzel said looking at Ben and Julius, y'all got some issues to work out if we're going to survive."
"We can all share the leadership." A.J. suggested. "I'm down for that."
Armando thought about what Arianna said about tension brewing between Hector and his father in terms how the Carnales should be run. He was feeling the same tension from Ben and Jules at times. They were supposed to be best friends he thought, make things happen and learn from the mistakes they made the first time running a crew. However, there was some history between them no intervention can remedy. On the ride back to the Row, they tabled what their roles were going to be for Stilwater and started debating on what they were going to call themselves.
Was it going to be "The Purple Soldiers", "Street Corner Conquerors", "Stilwater Kings"? Names were thrown around like a tennis ball hitting the wall for hours on end. All of a sudden, Julius spoke of a name that was simple and represented the Church as their home in times of personal trouble or defending turf. From that moment forward, they called themselves the 3rd Street Saints.
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