An American Crime Saga: Part Five
Hello again. Sorry for the wait, but enjoy and review chapter three!
Chapter Three:
"Here's the place." Ray tapped Jimmy on the shoulder signaling a left turn into a very beat up driveway with a very beat up yard surrounding it and an equally beat up, one story home being led to.
"Here? This is where the leading rebel group against Castillo hides out? My grandma had a house like this out in the country!" Jimmy laughed, but was once more tapped on the shoulder, this time by the other Garcia brother.
"Think what you want, but there are probably up to fifty really angry rebels in there who would jump at the chance to blow another fella away for saying something along those lines."
"Yeah, Jimmy, I suggest you allow Ray and Carlos to do the talking. Raul Cortez is one Spaniard who you don't screw with. He'll rip your damn ears off and stomp them into the ground."
"C'mon guys, how many people have I really pissed off to that point?" Jimmy chuckled.
"Let's see.. West, Lazanno, Castillo, Captain Nicholas, to name just a few." Added Wild.
"Alright, but all of them are against us. This Raul guy is supposed to support our cause, right?" Jimmy replied.
"We'll see. That is what we're here to find out after all."
Jimmy realized then that when you sit on the driveway of a secret hideout to a secret rebel organization in an unknown car for too long, you draw some unwanted suspicions.
"Hey, hey, hey! Somebody comin' out here fellas!" Ace alerted the others that a man, Hispanic with a buzz cut and some stubble. He wore a white tank-top with jeans below. Gloves were noticeable on his hands. Jimmy's first impression was that they were used to conceal fingerprints, but then noticed that they were the type of gloves that let the fingertips out.
"Damn, we've been out here too long. Here, I'll handle it." Ray signaled for everyone else in the car to sit still, and a look in his eyes told everybody to keep their mouths shut.
The rebel approached the car and first knocked on Jimmy's window. Ray waved him over to his window and told Jimmy to roll it down.
"¿Qué hace usted fuera aquí? ¿Tiene usted una razón para estar sentándose fuera de este lugar durante diez minutos sin tanto como un toca la bocina?" The man spoke in Spanish, realizing that two men in the car were of Hispanic decent.
"Nosotros no somos enemigos. somos apenas seis hombres que pueden ayudar a su líder y su causa." Ray spoke in his native tongue as well.
"¿El líder? ¿La causa? ¿Quién es usted?"
The non-Spanish speakers in the car looked on with puzzled faces.
"What are they saying?" Wild whispered to Carlos.
"The rebel asked what we were doing in the driveway for so long, so Ray said that we were just here to help Raul and their cause. Now the rebel is playing like he has no idea what Ray was saying." Carlos translated for the four who hadn't a clue what was being said.
"¡No juegue mudo! ¡Dos de nosotros somos miembros viejos, así que dejará entrar nos usted, o encarará la ira de Raul cuando él descubre que usted no permitiría parte de la mejor ayuda él entrará en su escondite?!"
"Don't play dumb! Two of us are old members, so are you going to let us in, or face Raul's wrath when he discovers that you wouldn't let some of the best help he's going to get into his hideout?!" Carlos translated quickly.
The rebel hesitated, but then signaled that the six men could go on inside.
"We can go in." Ray spoke in English.
The six stepped out of the car, stretched a bit, and walked on inside.
It was a one room house, like you would see in a small town with most citizens over the age of fifty. It must've been built for two people, as it had only about three rooms visible from the front door. Jimmy looked around, seeing various men, all dressed in similar style to the rebel who they'd just met. There were maybe five standing around the door, ten in the kitchen, two speaking with each other in Spanish in the hallway, and more scattered around the house.
"How many guys are in this group again?" Ace asked.
"About fifty." Replied Carlos.
"I only see about seventeen, not including the guy outside." Wild said.
"You've only seen two of the rooms, Wild." Ray pointed out, "Wait until you see the third."
Jimmy wasn't completely listening. He was more concerned with the AK-47's that were being held in the arms of these already dangerous looking rebels.
"Aquí dentro." Said one of the rebels leading them to the third room.
"He says to go in here." Ray translated, and led the way in.
Jimmy looked around inside. It was empty, and with nothing in it. Stepping backward, he gasped as he nearly fell backwards. It was then that he noticed a giant, gaping hole in the floor.
"I'm guessing all thirty-five others are inside the strange hole in the floor, right?" Wild stared in amazement.
Ray jumped into the hole, and the rest soon followed. Jimmy was amazed at what this rebel group had done. They must've ripped off the floorboard, dug up the ground, and just dug and dug for months or more. They'd made an underground hideout twice the size of the small house they were under.
Down there, there must've been at least forty rebels, all with AK-47's in hand and all sitting on cheap and worn out couches that were put in squares of four. There were about ten couch squares all with rebels speaking and arguing about plans, weapons, and things of that sort. All of them spoke only Spanish.
"Is that Ray Garcia and his little brother Carlos?!" A deep, and very accented voice emerged from a couch in the middle square. He arose, and turned to face the group. Wearing a military hat with a Spanish flag on it, the man had a dark, long face and a chiseled physique of a man who spent all his time either killing or working out.
"How you been, Raul?" Ray walked up to Raul Cortez and hugged him.
"Ray and Carlos were Red Cats back when Salvador Castillo, Jr. was in charge. When the current Castillo took over and instituted some new goals, most resulting in only his benefit, the Garcia's left to join the rebel cause until getting arrested for taking part in a drive-by. They were transferred all around the country, but settled at California State. You know the rest." Kenny explained to a confused Jimmy.
"Who are your friends?" Raul not very talkative, but expressed most of his words through only his facial expressions.
"Raul, these are some friends I escaped California State with. You know Carlos, but this here is "Wild" Willy Jones, Kenny McQueen, Ace Brown, and Jimmy Neutron." Ray introduced the group.
"So that brings us to question number two. Why are you here? I wouldn't thing you'd be here to reminisce in old memories."
"Alright, Jimmy. You want to go ahead and explain your story?"
Jimmy went ahead and told Raul everything he'd been through since that fateful day that Sheen invited him to the ice-cream parlor. To think all of the pain and suffering, loss and regret, and sadness he'd been through was all started at an ice-cream shop. He chuckled when he thought about it.
Jimmy went into great detail when he was in segments about Salvador Castillo III and his Red Cats. Just from looking into Raul's eyes, he knew that the rebel leader was looking at this as his great chance to finally take down Castillo's empire.
After explaining the whole story and taking a seemingly endless breath, he looked for an answer.
"We'll do it." Was all Raul Cortez said before whistling loudly. Every rebel in the hide-out gathered around their leader with all attention strictly on that man.
"¡Amigos! ¡Marque hoy en sus calendarios, en sus cuadernos, y en sus mentes! ¡Hoy es el día donde la puerta a nuestro éxito fue abierto lejos suficiente nos para todo apretar por! ¡Reúna su munición y avance al garaje! ¡Atacamos la mansión cuando su embarque llega!" Raul announced, to a chorus of cheers.
"He said to mark today on your calendars, in your notebooks, and in your minds. Today is the day where the door to our success was opened wide enough for us all to squeeze through. Gather your ammo and make your way to the garage. We attack the mansion when his shipment arrives." Carlos translated once more for the four who only spoke English.
"Shipment?" Kenny asked.
"Castillo's bringing in a huge shipment of drugs from some of his dealers before the first major attack of his and Lazanno's war. We'll ambush the shipment at the mansion when it arrives." Raul answered.
"Are we just going to ambush on foot?"
"Don't worry. We have twenty loaded military trucks out in the mid-city garage."
"Holy mother of..." Kenny began, but quickly ran to the others when he noticed that they were speaking over in another area of the room.
"Sounds like they're bringing us into battle. They think we have extra skill and ability to force this attack toward success. You all know how to use an AK-47, right?" Ray was speaking to the group. All of the group responded with a yes, except Jimmy.
"Alright, come with me Jimmy. They have a place down here for target practice. You'll learn fast." Carlos grabbed Jimmy and accompanied him to train.
"Oh, and you six may want to change into these. You look like you're all from a damn community collage in Connecticut! Here are some of our uniforms." Raul handed Ray a pile of shirts and pants.
"Go give these to those two. Let's go and get changed." Ray handed Wild three pairs, one for Jimmy, one for Carlos, and one for himself.
With that, they all got ready for the fight of their lives.
Chief West pulled into the North Plaza parking lot with a swerve. In one parking lot there were two police cars, three trucks loaded with drugs, four cops, eight members of the Mexican drug cartel, five pistols, eight machine guns, two shotguns, and one corrupt police chief.
"Good to see somebody listened to me." West said as he approached the five automobiles.
"Look, you're the chief and all, but what is this all about. How is accompanying two drug trucks to Castillo's mansion going to help you end his war? And think about our public image! This isn't really going to make us look great!" One cop began to argue and complain. What did West do? In one motion he pulled out a pistol and shot the cop in the face.
"Anybody else have any complaints?!" West silenced everybody in that parking lot two times over.
"West, we were told that you are bringing the entire force to the mansion to protect from an attack. Is that true?" asked another cop.
"Yeah, is that a problem with you, you annoying little ass-face?!"
"N..no sir! When do we leave?"
"In about half an hour. I'll be right back, so think of something f-ing smart to say or I'll shoot your grandmother. Got it?"
"Yes sir!"
West walked over to one of the trucks and knocked on the window. The driver rolled it down.
"You speak English, amigo?" West asked the driver, ignoring the man in the passenger seat.
"Que?" the driver replied.
"DO YOU SPEAK-O ANY ENGLISH-O!" West screamed as his face turned redder than blood.
"I'm only kidding, hombre!" The driver laughed it up, rocking back and forth in his seat.
"Let me see that machine gun." West reached out his hand. The driver promptly handed it to the chief. West did not hesitate to blow thirty bullets into the driver's torso.
"Holy shi...!" the other man in the truck screamed, with his heart beating as fast as a jet engine.
"Can you drive this?!" West screamed at the man.
"Oh my god.. oh my god... oh my.."
"CAN YOU DRIVE THIS GOD-DAMN TRUCK?!!"
"Yes! Yes! Don't shoot! I can drive it!"
"Good, now clean off the seat. We're leaving in thirty."
West walked back to the cops.
"I came up with something to say, sir!" the young cop said to the man he'd just spoken to.
"What might that be, officer.."
"Officer Carlson, sir. And I decided to compliment you for your skill and ability as chief, sir!" the cop was shivering.
"Kinda mushy, but smart to say nonetheless. Keep on my good side kid. You can do that by disposing of these two bodies before the... cops show up! Ha!" West laughed at his own joke, and the three officers laughed for their lives.
Somewhere over Nevada, on a flight destined for California, in first class seats, ten men, all in black suits and blood-red ties, sat talking. In the center of them all was an especially well groomed man in a suit that seemed over-all better quality than that of the rest. He had slicked back hair and had not one imperfection on his body.
"Hey, how are we supposed to attack the cats without guns? We had to leave 'em on New York to get on a plane!" One of them asked the center man.
"Don't worry, Paulie. My dad's got a warehouse in Retroville."
"Yeah, well I am still concerned, Mario. After all, we only got ten guys! The entire Red Cat's gang could be at that mansion!"
"My dad, and your boss, is a smart man. He ain't gonna send his favorite son and ten of his best guys to their deaths. He sent us 'cause we are the best in the Italian Mafia. We're landing in about ten minutes at Retroville airport. We're getting picked up by some guys already in the city and brought to the warehouse. We'll be at the mansion in about forty-five minutes."
Mario Lazanno sat back and sighed.
The Italian Mafia had sent it's first attack.
How was it? Sorry if there are any problems with the Spanish dialogue. I am not a natural Spanish speaker, so I am not perfect at it by any means. Anyway, stay tuned and review!