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Trinity Sisters – Bloody Business

Book 2

Dead!??

My heart filled with sadness and anxiety. The word dead hit me harder than I expected. Dumped at the landfill like a piece of garbage!

– If Luca is dead you can expect a whole lotta justice coming your way. Fast!

I used the scalpel to cut the strips that secured this pseudo – doctor’s arms to the operating table in this filthy basement, while Dad created an illuminated space in the dark with my flashlight. Almost a room in the room.

Kicked the table and it fell over leaving my ‘patient’ on the dusty concrete floor in his underground operating ‘facility’, with a few extra scratches.

– GET UP! I snarled at him.

Had the strongest desire to kill him for weeks but he would serve us better searching.

He got up and I dragged him back up the stairs and outside to the car.

– Dad, let’s bring these creeps to the landfill. They can help us search!

I threw the fake doc into my stolen Toyota Tundra while Dad escorted the other perp to the one of other cars.

 

 

Lethal Business - Suspense and Vigilante Justice

– You call all the guys. This landfill is a gigantic place of wasteland, and we need all the hands we can get. Also, call the police and ask them to send a K9 unit. And an ambulance!

I didn’t have to instruct Dad. He knew what to do. He had a history with the Cocaine Import Agency in Nicaragua under Ronald Reagan. He wasn’t exactly a novice in this bloody business. So proud to be his daughter.

Len and Angel followed in their cars with their perps in the trunk. As the day grew, darkness began to slowly creep upon us. I fired up the GPS in my phone and we hurried to the landfill as quickly as we could.

My mood was lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon rut. Everything around me seemed grey except for the red traffic lights I neither had the time nor the inclination to respect.

Luca dead??? How could this be true? I couldn’t believe it. Just wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

It took a little more than twenty minutes before we arrived at Poniente Landfill. It was huge. Depressingly huge. And closed. Looked like it had been shut down a long time ago.

Kicked my murderous idiot passenger violently out of the car. My respect for people who steal kidneys from kids is non-existent!

– Take me to the place you left him, I commanded.

The quack walked around searching for something recognizable. We searched for ten minutes, and I was just about to lose my patience.

– I believe it was here, he said like he was trying to make up for his vicious actions. Or maybe he was stalling…

I looked around. Bikes, toys, plastic bags, bricks, tires, cans, bottles, rats, barrels, rusty pipes… as long as I could see. It all looked the same. Dad, Alma, Len, Angel and I searched but it seemed like an unconquerable challenge. We needed more hands. A lot more.

Dave and Psycho were the first to arrive, and they immediately started searching too. It was getting darker. If this was going to last much longer, we needed light. We all had flashlights – it’s part of our tacticals, and it helped some, but the visibility slowly got shorter.

Rachel, Garcia, Goldie, Wes, Mason and Owen also arrived. They all had each one mid level perp from the Cartel cuffed in the car or the trunk.
Police also showed up. Four of them. Dad had told them the entire story on the phone, and they arrived with two K9 dogs.

And the ambulance arrived.

Have no idea how long time we spent searching. Time passed by fast and at the same time it felt like time had almost stopped. It was getting even darker. And colder.

But we still weren’t able to find Luca.

Suddenly one of the K9 dogs caught the scent of something. It was very eager to show his handler something. I followed the dog hoping to find Luca.
Took the dog less than a minute to find something that was buried in the trash. We started removing garbage and some clothes appeared with a man inside. Deffy not Luca. This was a homeless guy. He was cold and quite dead. Checked his pulse just in case. Turned him around. He was a bloody mess. And the smell. You know – a semi-rotten sweet smell.

– So you took his organs too? I aggressively addressed the doctor.

He didn’t answer, but it made perfectly good sense to harvest organs from homeless people. There are half a million of them in CDMX. Bloody Business!

The visibility was low, and as even more time went by I felt desperation and hopelessness creeping upon me.

Then I saw it. Fifty yards away. In the very last sunbeams. A small rusty lorry almost entirely buried in trash. With a yellow five-pointed star on the door. I immediately remembered what Celestine told me to look for.

– Over here! I shouted. It’s here! I was seized by a very compelling enthusiasm and got goosebumps down my neck.

I ran as fast as I could. Fell a few times and hurt both my arms but finally I reached the truck and started looking around it.

I removed a lot of plastic bags as fast as I possibly could. He had to be here! I wanted him to be here!

After turning fifty or sixty plastic bags and a handful of broken bikes I finally noticed something that didn’t fit in. An arm.

– He is here! MEDICS! I shouted at the top of my lungs! Removed the last pieces of garbage, and Luca was free.

I immediately checked his breathing and his pulse. Nothing.

– Fuck me! We are too late, I said to myself. I picked Luca up quickly, put him on an old door and started giving him CPR anyway. Len was over Luca as fast as a hurricane and started mouth-to-mouth resuscitation while I tried to assist his little heart.

We had to go on until the medics could take over, but we couldn’t move him until his heart started beating. Moving him would mean we had to stop working on him while carrying him to the ambulance and that could easily be fatal. So, we continued.

One of the paramedics connected Luca to a defibrillator while Len and I continued working on him and Angel held his hand.

We took turns in holding his hand, mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and CPR. Len is a nurse, and we have all done this before. We aren’t exactly strangers to injured or lifeless persons. But it is tough when it is an innocent 10-year-old kid! It’s not fair! The world is messed up by selfish morons who couldn’t care less about other people. I think I hated half the world at that moment. Probably even more.

Time went by fast. Two hours felt like ten minutes. I could NOT give up! This is sooooo unfair! A ten-year-old defenceless boy! And some jerkoffs stole his kidney and left him for dead in this lousy dump!

Cockburgers!

Now, this is not a movie where medics give up after 10 minutes. I know from experience that it is possible to get people back even after hours of CPR. So, I was determined like hell to go on.

I know! The longer time it indeed takes the smaller the chances. But it’s not impossible. And as long as Luca had just a slim chance I was determined to fight for his life. So, we continued. Even though I could see the resigned look in the eyes of the paramedics.

Sunday:
10:00 Luca’s mom Briana calls
10:05 Off to Mexico City – Emergency
15:30 Game plan at the hotel Alest.
15:10 Goldie calls – introducing The Butcher
15:30 Dad and his friends arrive.
18:00 The Raid of 15 locations
19:00 Shoot out on the dead factory
20:00 Searching the Landfill
22:00 Emergency Room ten hours AFTER PHONE CALL

Monday:
09:00 Tracking the Buyer – Visiting Police station
09:15 extracting info from Leon the lion. Ignacio
09:30 Debra gets shot at
11:00 Relocating to the Mountains
13:00 Camp ready
13:30 Landfill to get the address on the safehouse
14:30 Safehouse takedown
16:00 Guerilla war in the mountains. Ramon goes down
18:00 Sniper appears
02:00 Psycho bugs Ignacio’s house

Tuesday:
07:00 Listening in on Ignacio – surveillance
08:00 Planning the take down of Matteo Barrera
03:00 Landing on the yacht – Mancini
04:00 Grounding Serendipity
09:00 Intro General Attorney Federico Ponce.
09:30 The Fall of Banamex.
12:00 The Undertaker

Wednesday:
11:00 Next stop sicily
14:00 Regugee camp
18:00 Catania. IkembA’s apartment
22:00 Mr. Black
23:00 Castel Volturno Raid
02:00 Sleep

THURSDAY
15:00 Rome – Ponte Della Musica
19:00 Arp at the Disco
20:00 The Catacombs
21:00 Tech Truck Meet
21:30 DDW Walk through
22:00 Underground Studio
24:00 Emergency Room

Friday:
10:00 The Boyscouts
14:00 The Vatican Bank
20:00 Mancini confrontation

Saturday
13:00 Home Sweet Home
14:00 Celestine wraps it up

 

Trinity Sisters – Filthy Business

– Hey guys! I need your help. Come with me.

We went to the sleeping room, and I carefully opened the door just enough to put my head inside and do a census.

– Twelve men sleeping, I whispered addressed to Dave. How are we going to handle them? I need to ask them some questions about Pierre so we can’t just kill them. Unfortunately.

– I can go in and grab the first one closest to the door and bring him out here, but it will probably wake up the rest.

– We have five sets of handcuffs. We could sneak in and cuff five of them to their beds. That will reduce the resistance to seven men and if you get one out, we are down to six. That’s more manageable.

– That’s a job for Psycho the Ninja, Dave said. He can lock them down and remove their weapons more silently than falling snow.

– On my way, Psycho replied on the intercom.

I removed the cabinet I placed under the door handle and Psycho went in. Thirty seconds later he handed two rifles out the door. Two at a time not to make noises and a few moments later we had fifteen fully automatic rifles, a few handguns and twelve sleeping beauties of whom the five closest to the door were intimately cuffed to their beds.

– Go for the guy in bed no three on the left. Noticed he has a crescent and a star on his left hand!

 

Filthy Business

– Wow! Maybe this is The Butcher!

Dave’s turn. He went in silent, but we heard the bump when one of them ‘fell’ out of the bed. A fraction of a second later Dave appeared in the door dragging some bastard by his legs, hardly awake.

I slammed the door and put the closet back under the handle.

Dave took him up, threw him on a couch and slapped his face a few times to bring him up to speed, so to speak.

I initiated our short conversation.

– I assume you are Ramon the Butcher. We are looking for a French boy named Dio. Where is he?

– Who the fuck are you? He asked.

– It is more interesting who YOU are, I said. First of all, as of this moment, you are unemployed as your organisation is dissolved. So, no more salary for you.

– Second, if you don’t answer my questions, you will on top of your unemployment also be dead.

– This boy, Dio… his dad Pierre was locked up in the pit with his wife and a lot of other people. Yes – I said WAS! The roles have changed. All your prisoners are free an YOU are prisoners! Now, where is Dio?

His eyes did that fast movement you know, that revealed he had to come up with an alternative answer fast that could save his ass. The true answer would be a death sentence from his former employer. And the wrong answer could be a death sentence from me.

– I can tell you are trying to avoid the question, I said. You flinched.

At this point, all the guards were awake and tried to open the door but the cabinet under the door handle was a formidable opponent! It didn’t budge one iota!

Neither did the guard I questioned. So, I looked around trying to get an idea of some kind. My eyes fell on a garbage can made from aluminium.

That just might work!

– Dave, can you find something to tie his arms with?

He cuffed him while I took hold of a wooden chair and smashed it to the floor. It broke – which was intended. I needed a solid stick and picked up one of the legs from the chair.

Our friend in the couch began to look slightly worried about his immediate future.

I placed the garbage can over his head, took a few seconds to get ready and swung my improvised bat which hit the can with well over 100 mph. Still accelerating on impact!

The pain inside the can isn’t that big, but the sound is! And the waiting for the next blast is terrifying and exhausting.

– Did you rape Céline?

I heard him moaning. I took that as a confession. And swung the chair leg once more.

A singing twack that left an ambient reverb floating between the concrete walls. What a beautiful sound.

Don’t misunderstand me. I am not a sadist or psychopath. At least not full-time. I just hate people that make money on other human beings’ sufferings. I know! I am no better than them. The only difference – and that is not an attempt to justify anything, is they do it for the money. I do it to stop those who do it for the money. Money can make some people do horrible things. Somehow it has become my mission to teach these people a thing or two about entrepreneurship.

OK – I enjoyed it a little. The feeling of bringing their own shit to their own doorstep is very enjoyable. Because this way they need to fight a superior and qualified opponent. Not innocent and defenceless women and children.

– Stop!!! He shouted. STOP!

I hit the bucket once more. His head leaned forward.

– Please stop!!!

– Nah – this feels really good! Are you going to tell me what I wanna know?

– I am! I will!! We sent a kid back to Mexico yesterday. He shouldn’t even have been here, but the pickup team fucked up, panicked and drove out here. We threw the parents in the pit and sent the boy back.

– Back? To where? Was it Dio? I was just about to violate the Universal Declaration of Human Rights for the fourth time as I had the strongest urge to swing my homemade bat once more. Honestly – this one didn’t deserve the protection from the bucket! Five inches of barbed wire up his ass seemed more appropriate.

Obviously terrified of yet another close encounter with my improvised but highly efficient bat he answered:
– Yes, yes, it was their son. He was in a hurry to get his words out now.

– Who raped the woman? I asked again.

He gave me four names still with the bucket over his head.

– This is only four, I said. This means you raped her too! You are no. five!

No answer.

I swung the bat one more time for Céline as hard as I could while the sucker’s moaning drowned in the resounding crash from the bucket that covered his head, and once again waved through the underground hallways for seconds.

A very satisfying sound I might add! And the vindictive feeling too!

– Now, I need an address! You still have your teeth so you can still speak! Where did they take Dio?

I got the address. It was in the outskirts of northern CDMX so we had to go back.

Trinity Sisters – Big Business

Being in jail is no holiday. Survival hinges on securing a place at the apex of the social hierarchy. The rest are merely considered expendable.

Within these particular walls, two factions hold sway. One group may outnumber the other, yet they maintain an uneasy equilibrium. The first faction caters exclusively to individuals of Caucasian descent, while the other encompasses Hispanics, Africans, and Muslims – essentially, anyone who doesn’t fit the ‘pale’ mold. You get the picture.

The top brass of the biggest faction was the one I would target. Her name is Violet and she is violent like hell. Borderline personality for sure. Serving a two times life sentence for murder. One of them was a cop. I’m fairly certain she has a long trail of more murders in her wake.

I have no allies in here so seizing control of that faction would be quite a challenge.

And it would start a lot sooner than I thought.

In the past, I used to favor having a relatively well-structured plan before taking action. However, the experiences gained from working with Dave and the crew have schooled me in the art of improvisation.

My rep. preceded me and when Violet caught wind of my previous merits she obviously felt threatened. That was intended.

The most dangerous place in prison isn’t the chair. It’s the shower. More people are killed in the bath room than in the gas chamber. When taking a forced group shower that first evening in my new home I was very aware of that.

So it didn’t appear as a big surprise when I was attacked. It was one of her leutennents. No idea what her name was.

She attempted to inch closer, yet her peculiar demeanor did not escape my notice, nor did the concealed right hand she kept well-hidden. As she closed within two yards, she abruptly pounced on me.

With a pointed stick in her hand, which might as well have been a sharpened shard of plastic, she charged toward me, screaming as if intent on impaling me. Swiftly, I sidestepped at the last possible moment, pivoted, seized her by the neck, and forcefully collided her forehead with the water tap. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious and bleeding. Keeping a watchful eye on the others in the shower, I retrieved the makeshift weapon, uttering cautiously:

– Anyone else?

Nobody volunteered.

What a shame. I love nude fighting.

I knew Violet sent her. She is a coward sending people to do her dirty work. I threw the plastic thing on her and left the shower. Well knowing next time I would face likely five or six of them.

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