“Power struggles.” Milton thought for a moment. “You know who the new Captains are?”
“Ed Weather, Jackie Washington and Carter Garrison.”
“Carter Garrison? I remember him. He might be trouble.”
“Even so, now’s the time. We hit Rain Robinson and start hitting their spots.”
“What about Carter Garrison?”
“We’ll hit him next.”
Milton sat back in his chair and thought for a minute about what his son had proposed. “Go ahead,” he said, still thinking that it was a bad idea. But as long as DP’s plan didn’t interfere with their upcoming overseas shipment, what real harm could it be?
DP looked at his watch. “It’s already in progress.”
Chapter Three
El Decreto de Guerra, translated to mean The Decree of War. They were a gang of Colombian gun smugglers that had an extensive history with The Family. It began one rainy night in Nassau, when three were bound, gagged and shot in the back of their heads and their throats were cut at Shaggy’s gambling house. Once the perpetrators were identified to be members of a Vincentian drug gang known as The Grenadine Boys, Jada West sanctioned their termination.
The Grenadines attacked Paraíso in retaliation at the same time that Mr. and Mrs. Black were on the island. When Bobby and Rain arrived on the island, not only did they kill everybody, but Black arranged for the DEA and the ATF to intercept a large shipment of guns coming from Miami that were being exchanged for cocaine and marijuana from Venezuela. Since they were his guns and drugs, this did not go unnoticed by Rodrigo Iñíguez.
With his Vincentian middlemen in Nassau now dead, Rodrigo Iñíguez began looking at Mike Black and his organization. He wanted to use Black’s organization to take over for them because of Black’s influence with the DEA and the ATF. But it was too late for that.
By that time, Black had discovered that The Grenadines in New York were backing Lyric Skye in his plan to take over from within. It took the entire family, including Black’s father and brothers in Saint Vincent, to put a stop to it.
You know how we do it.
Black and Shy traveled to Caracas, Venezuela for a meeting with Rodrigo Iñíguez. During that meeting, Black made it clear his desire not to be in business with Rodrigo and a gentlemen’s understanding was reached between the two men that Black would have no involvement in, nor would he use his influence to interfere with Rodrigo’s business coming through Nassau as long as they respected the island.
But that gentlemen’s understanding did nothing for the ties, both good and bad, that now existed with El Decreto de Guerra. With the approval of Damián Custodio, the head of El Decreto de Guerra, Herminio Leoncio ordered the hit that killed Reese and injured Smoke and Geno at Mar Y Tierra. But being a businessman, Custodio wasn’t opposed to anything, or anybody for that matter, that would make him more money.
It was almost four in the morning and Carlito Munoz and Edmundo Camacho were at Salsa Con Tarifa waiting to meet with Lucus Hill and Garson Anderson to make arrangements to sell them weapons.
On the way to the meeting at the club, Anderson was texting with his girlfriend while Hill drove. After a while, Anderson got tired of typing and began using the voice to text feature. Hill just shook his head and kept driving.
“Because that’s what you say!” Anderson shouted into the phone, pressed send angrily and then stared at the phone awaiting her response.
“Yeah, well, it ain’t gonna be like that. Not no more,” he said and laughed. He looked over at Hill. “I don’t know who the fuck she think she dealing with?”
“Your dumb ass. That’s who she thinks she’s dealing with. You let her get away with too much shit. She does the shit she does ’cause you let her,” Hill said, but Anderson wasn’t listening. He had gotten a response and was shaking his head.
“’Cause I fuckin’ said so!” Again he was shouting at the phone.
“Hey, man.”
“What?” Anderson barked without looking away from his phone.
“Why don’t you text her, ‘it ain’t about you’, exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point,” Hill said and laughed.
Anderson laughed. “Have you lost your fuckin
’ mind?”
“In all caps.”
“Shit, no!” Anderson dropped the phone he was laughing so hard. “I can just imagine the onslaught of furious texts she’d send as she tracked me down so she could get in my face askin’, ‘what the fuck you mean it ain’t about me?’”
“’Cause you know it’s all about her,” Hill said, now laughing hysterically as his phone began vibrating in his pocket. Once he got the phone out, Hill looked at the display.