"This is it here," said S.D., quietly, pointing at a flamboyant looking building with a large sign or a neon pink swan. "I'll ask for Amarico."
Both men approached a couple of bouncers guarding the door. Em Cal sized up the both of them. One was fat and bald with beady blue eyes. The other was tall and muscular with enough grease in his hair to fry chicken. He could take them, if it came to that.
"Hey, Leo, look who it is," said the fat bald bouncer, "what're you doin' here, S.D.? Me and Zilla almost didn't recognize you without your milk mustache."
"Whatever, King Kong Bundy," said S.D. "Amarico in tonight?"
"Yeah, he's in tonight," said Zilla. "What do you want with him?"
"That's our business," Em Cal said coldly.
Zilla looked at Em Cal, his eyes narrowed menacingly.
"Who're you, pal?" he asked
"Keep wasting my time, and you'll find out soon enough, bitch," said Em Cal, his face an inch away from Zilla's. There was a violent gleam in his eye, which was usually a red flag for his enemies.
Zilla and Em Cal scowled at each other for a long time. One finally backed down, and it wasn't Em Cal.
"Okay," muttered Zilla resentfully. "We'll take you to Amarico's office."
Inside the Violet Swan was large and circular with an overwhelming plethora of strobe lights, LED lightings, and haze machines. Em Cal looked around. Most of the crowd was dressed up in bizarre anarcho-punk/new wave get ups. They were either touch dancing to the beat of hardcore techno music or getting doped up. It was a freak show.
Em Cal and S.D. followed Leo and Zilla up a spiral case. They were lead to a cherry door, on which Leo knocked.
"Enter," said a man's feminized Spanish accented voice.
"All four men walked inside the room. Sitting in a lounge chair was Amarico Villapando.
Amarico was a small and slight man. He had deeply tanned skin, perfectly arched eyebrows, and deep brown eyes. His gel spiked hair was dyed a medium purple, which clashed horribly with the light blue silk shirt that he wore.
"S.D. and this guy requested to see you, boss," said Leo.
"Did they?" Amarico said, getting up and strolling over to where Em Cal was standing. "Ay dios mio, S.D., who is this big rugged Adonis?"
"He's an associate of mine," said S.D., looking down at the floor.
"Indeed?" asked Amarico. "Well, he looks muy fuerte. And he smells delicioso. How would you like to be my bear, mijo?"
"No thanks, I'll pass," said Em Cal acidly. "Look, the reason why I'm here is because I'm looking for a real good high and heroin nor cocaine just ain't gonna cut it for me. S.D. tells me you're the man to know."
"Maybe I am," said Amarico, his hands on the front of Em Cal's duster, "but why don't we discuss business later and discuss pleasure now?"
Em Cal pushed Amarico's hands away. He wanted to take the 1911 from his waist and empty the whole clip into Amarico. But he knew he mustn't, not just yet anyway. He played it cool and told himself to wait until Amarico gave him what he wanted.
"Listen, I don't have time for the little sexual games," Em Cal said. "Just give me something that's going that's going to blow my mind."
"But darling, I can blow your mind away," said Amarico. "I am like a drug; Once I work my ardent Latino charm on a man, it's difficult to resist me. S.D. knows, don't you sugar?."
Leo and Zilla snickered. Em Cal looked at S.D., whose faced reddened in embarrassment.
"N-n-no I don't," he sputtered. "Don't listen to him, he's just full of shit!"
"Mierda?" said Amarico with a raised eyebrow. "I think not. Did you forget about last week already?"
"I'm warning you, 'Rico, callate," said S.D. in a low voice.
"It was S.D., Leo, Zilla and Yours Truly," said Amarico to Em Cal "He was short on money for the sour diesel I gave him. After several glasses of champagne, he was willing to do anything to pay off his debt..."
"I'm telling you now, Rico, shut your fucking mouth!" shouted S.D. His facial expressions were usually of a vague clueless one, but not this time. His veins were bulging dangerously in his forehead, and rage was dancing in those usually far out eyes.
"Ooh, look at you, so pissed off," said Amarico, his hands on S.D.'s chest. "You're so sexy when you're angry. Maybe some of my special tricks will help you relax like la-"
"Say another word, Rico!" snarled S.D., pulling out a combat knife. "I dare you. Say one more word and I'll cut you up like Japanese cuisine!"
Realizing S.D. could blow the whole thing, Em Cal held back Leo and Zilla, who started toward S.D. and said, "Relax, guys, he's not going to do a goddamn thing. S.D., don't be stupid. Put the knife away and calm your ass down. Now!"
Hesitantly, S.D. put the knife away. He continued to glower at Amarico, who taunted him by blowing kisses at him.
"Now, Villapando, I'm getting impatient here." said Em Cal. "It's nearly midnight, and I'm not high. Are you the man who's got the good shit?"
"Well, fortunately for you, chico grande, I have just scored a shipment of the latest goods," said Amarico. "It's called Triple Effect. Real potent stuff. It's been bringing in loads and loads of money too."
"You almost have me sold, Villapando," said Em Cal. "Let me see the product."
Amarico pulled out a cylinder like thing, and gave it to Em Cal, who opened it. There were hundreds of multi-colored capsules inside.
"Jackpot," said Em Cal. "Exactly what I wanted to see. How much will it cost?"
"For that whole cylinder, it's a thousand dollars,"
Em Cal made like he was reaching into his pocket. Then, he struck Amarico in the jaw with a quick forceful jab. Amarico crumbled to the floor with a dull thud. Leo and Zilla let out roars of rage and started toward Em Cal. Em Cal locked up with Zilla, while S.D went after Leo.
After 3 minutes of fighting around the room, knocking things over, Em Cal grabbed Zilla's head by the mouth and back of the head and jerked violently .Zilla fell to the floor motionless. Wiping blood from his nose and mouth, Em Cal watched S.D., stab Leo in the stomach repeatedly. Leo spat up blood, before collapsing on the floor, dead. Holding his bruised ribs, S.D. wiped the blood off of the knife and put it back in his pocket. His right eye was swollen, as well as his lip. But he was pale and looked almost shell-shocked.
"I killed him," he said, his voice unnaturally high pitched. "I never killed anybody before. Oh shit, man."
"C'mon, boy," said Em Cal his voice like a steel trap, snapping S.D. out of it, "make yourself useful and find something to tie this asshole up."
As Em Cal hoisted up Amarico, S.D. went into Amarico's cherry wood desk and got out a strip of leather thongs. As he handed them to Em Cal, he looked at S.D. and said. "You sure do know your way around this office."
S.D.'s ears reddened slightly, but he helped Em Cal tie up Amarico.
"He's going to be out for a few more minutes," said Em Cal, lighting up a Winston, "We're going to wait until he regains consciousness."
"Hey Cal," S.D. started, "you didn't uh- believe that story Amarico told you, did you?"
Em Cal dragged on his Winston and muttered. "I don't really judge others on their alternative lifestyles. Whatever happened between you and him, keep it to yourself. I'd rather not know."
Amarico's eyes finally fluttered open. He tried to move, but then realized that he was fettered to the chair.
"What's all of this for?" Amarico asked. "Darling if you two wanted to play rough, all you had to do was say so."
"I'm glad you find this situation amusing Villapando," said Em Cal harshly. "Because you fucked up real bad tonight. You gave me enough evidence to take you out!"
"I knew it," said Amarico, disdain wrinkling his features. "You're an undercover narc."
"Nah," said Em Cal, "but what I am is a worst nightmare come true for you, Amarico Villapando. Tell him who I am, S.D."
"This is Em Cal, Amarico," said S.D. with a hint of glee in his voice. "I feel sorry for you, man, he's one bad mother fucker!"
"A combination of comprehension and fear came across Amarico's face.
"Em Cal?" he said, "as in Em Cal, the hit man?"
"Why yes, that'd be me," said Em Cal leering.
"But, I thought you were retired," said Amarico, his voice quivering with fear.
"So sorry to contradict," said Em Cal pulling out a chrome M1911 with a silencer. Amarico's forehead glistened with sweat.
"Jesus Christ, don't kill me," he pleaded "Por favor, Em Cal, have mercy, I don't want to die, I have too much to live for."
"Then you're going to do some talking for me," said Em Cal. "And depending on what kind of information you give, I just might spare you your life. So hear me and hear me good. Speak but what may benefit you and others."
"Gracias, Em Cal," said Amarico. "What is it that you want to know?"
Em Cal, picked up the cylinder full of Triple Effect pills that he had dropped while fighting Zilla.
"We want to know who's supplying you with this," he said, "C'mon, Amarico, names, I want them!"
Amarico's face fell.
"If I tell you, I'm a dead man." he said
Em Cal made an impatient noise and slapped Amarico in the head with the M1911, creating a huge gash on the side of his head.
"Now, S.D., either Amarico is a complete and utter dumbass, or he really can't comprehend just how serious this predicament he's in is!" he snarled. "You say you're a dead man if you tell me? Well I say you're a dead man if you don't tell me, asshole."
He pointed the M1911 at Amarico and pulled back on the hammer.
"Okay, okay, I'll talk!" said Amarico desperately. "A couple of months ago, my club was getting ready to go under. I couldn't make enough money to keep it open. As a last ditch effort, I went to the Saracinos for a loan. They agreed to give me the loan if only in return, I helped them distribute the Triple Effect pills and pay off the loan I made with the money I made from selling it. We've been partners every since. That's the truth, Em Cal, I swear to you."
Em Cal lowered the gun, his face impassive. He didn't need to ask Amarico who the Saracinos were. He was already too familiar with the name.
"Okay, I believe you, " Em Cal said. "But unfortunately for you, you're still going to die."
Outrage and terror widened Amarico's eyes.
"You said you wouldn't kill me if I talked!" he said, his voice higher than usual.
A dark leer came across Em Cal's face.
"You should know better than to trust the word of a man who makes a living off of killing people," he said. "Adios, Villapando, say hello to Satan for me,"
"As Amarico shouted, "NO!" Em Cal fired the M1911 eight times. Amarico resembled a wiffle ball after Em Cal got through with him.
"Had to kill him," he said to S.D. "Couldn't risk him blabbing back to the Saracinos."
A year ago, there was a war between the McMahon Syndicate and the Saracino family. It was very ugly. Back and forth, businesses were getting blown up, people from both sides were getting killed. After eight months of feuding, the McMahon Syndicate finally won. It was sheer and pure luck that Em Cal happened to be meeting someone right across the street from a restaurant that the Don, Frankie Saracino happened to be in. Em Cal went inside the restaurant and killed him. After Frankie died, the Saracino's influence deteriorated while the McMahons' increased. The last Em Cal had heard, Frankie's son, Johnny was running things, but word on the street was that he didn't have the savvy nor the respect his pop had.
"Search through his pockets," Em Cal told S.D.
S.D. looked at Em Cal as if he asked him to give him leg and arm.
"What?" snapped Em Cal, "you've been through someone's pockets numerous times, what's the problem now?"
"He's dead, man!" S.D. claimed. "I'm not going through a dead man's pockets."
"Either you go through his pockets or I'll cap your ass next!" Em Cal growled, "Do what I say, boy!"
"Yes'r, sir Em Cal sir," said S.D. in a mock Southern black accent. "You be wantin' me to shine your shoes next Massa?"
After S.D. finished searching through Amarico's pockets, he found numerous stacks of one hundred dollar bills, more Triple Effect pills, and a cell phone. S.D. pocketed the money while Em Cal searched through Amarico's contacts. Sure enough, Johnny Saracino's number was in the Top 5.
"Bingo," said Em Cal. "Keep this phone, kid. Do you know how to sound like Amarico?"
"Of course, mijo," said S.D. in a plausible imitation of Amarico's voice.
"Good, good," said Em Cal. "If Johnny Saracino calls, let me know. Until then-"
He pulled out his own cell phone and took a picture of Amarico's body.
"I'm sending this to VK McMahon and tell him I got a lead. Meanwhile, let's get the hell out of here."
Both men went back downstairs. Nobody paid attention to them as the exited the service door. Entering the alley, S.D. asked, "What now, Cal?"
"We're going into Phase 2," said Em Cal. "It might get a little more dangerous from this point forward, so it's best you get some steel. I'll tell you what. Go to a placed called D.O.A., it's on the corner of Hickock and Cassidy. The guy who owns the place is called Dead Eye Dave. Tell him Em Cal sent you. Get yourself a gun or two."
"Alright, sure thing," said S.D. "Good looking out."
"And another thing, boy," said Em Cal firmly. You smell like a sandwich with extra onions and mustard. As of now, showering is mandatory. If you want to continue to work with me, you will not continue to look like Pig Pen. So, start buying some new clothes, and throw all of the old and filthy ones away."
"You're worse than my sister, dude," said S.D.
"Speaking of her," said Em Cal. "I'm going to call her and make sure you shower. I'm going, see you."
"Hey, wait!" said S.D. "Ain't you gonna give me a ride? I don't have the right tools on me to boost a car."
Em Cal took S.D's left ear and pulled it hard.
"You ain't got those big ears for nothin', boy." he said. "Flap them and start flying home, Dumbo."
He got on his V-Rod and sped off, leaving S.D. in the alley, looking dumbfounded.