He rubbed his jaw before moving toward his desk. As he pulled a file from his desk, I could swear his hand was shaking. "I have some information regarding one of our suppliers. You need to check on his actions and his friends, Miguel. I believe he has betrayed us in several ways."
I walked closer, easing the glass onto the desk and taking the file from him. I was surprised at the pictures the folder held. The man in the photographs I'd worked with for years. While Kostya Mulin was a true snake, a man who would sell his daughter for a drug deal in order to increase his wealth, I found it difficult to believe he was the one behind the countless rumors.
And the short supplies.
"Seriously?" I asked, flipping through every photo. There were faces that I didn't recognize, with the exception of one. I'd known vile criminals in my line of work, heinous creatures who enjoyed killing more than any deal on the table. The Maker was in a plateau of his own. He was considered a floater, moving from one territory to another, attempting to make a stand. Highly dangerous and overtly skilled, his methods of sabotage were infamous in our circles.
The photograph was clear, the handshake and smiles on the men's faces telling. Kostya and the Maker were working together in some capacity. "I'll find out what the hell is going on."
"I have no doubt you will. I suggest you keep it quiet. We certainly don't need any of our customers to find out that we may have a breach."
He was certainly right about that. When I handed him back the file, my rage increased. As I'd told the lovely Valencia: No one fucked with our family. No one. "What are you hearing regarding the latest shipments?" I asked the question casually, already preparing how I was going to handle Kostya. I never invited any of my soldiers to either my penthouse or the beach house that I infrequently resided in. I had an office in a sprawling high-rise where I operated from, my staff accustomed to my irregular schedules.
Today, I'd invited my three top Capos to the condo, preferring to have the conversation in absolute privacy. The sun was just setting over the horizon, the beautiful coastline always breathtaking.
However, I was in a piss poor mood, having spent two days gathering additional information on Kostya. While he hadn't made any overt moves, I knew it was only a matter of time.
Cordero glanced at the other two, finally the one to step forward. Which meant he'd heard far too much. "Word on the street is one of our boats may be under the gun."
"In what manner?" I asked quietly, keeping my anger in check.
"I heard talk about the Feds making a bust, but I don't think so."
His answer was always based on the most up to date info. "Then what do you think, Cordero?"
"It's the shipment coming in from Peru. Cordero thinks it's going to be hit, our party favors destroyed." Sylvie's voice rang out.
I turned my attention to Sylvie, taking in the information. There had been some in my employ who hadn't taken kindly to the fact I'd promoted a woman as a top soldier. They'd learned their lesson the hard way. She could more than handle her own on every level.
"Kostya is going to risk hijacking our largest shipment." I'd suspected as much but wasn't certain of the particular shipment. "Have any of you talked with him?"
"I've tried, sir, but he's been out of town, or so I've heard from shit on the street." Enrique's answer was another expected one. "I've been to his usual hangouts over the last two nights. He hasn't been there."
Enrique's main function was to scour the bars and nightclubs, keeping his ear to the ground. If anything against our hold occurred within the city limits, he would know.
"All right. That's what I thought. When is the shipment due?" I asked, moving toward the floor-to-ceiling window and staring out at the ocean.
"Tonight. Just before midnight," Cordero answered.
"Then make certain the shipyard is covered and our buddies in the Coast Guard are on high alert. If there is another boat in close proximity, I want to know about it."
"Will do, boss."
After they left, I poured a drink, returning to my position in front of the window. Our family had been betrayed before, the stupid bastards always thinking they had the upper hand. If Kostya was in business with the Maker, destroying the supply wasn't in either of their best interests. Unless they had another ruse planned.
Or unless they planned on stealing the boat.
I took several sips, mulling over the possibilities.
One thing I knew without reservation, whatever was planned tonight was merely the beginning.
* * *
As midnight approached, I rolled into the harbor. The trip was well under the radar, the Picuda one of the finest boats used for the purpose of drug running. While I'd grown weary of the drug running operation, preferring our more legal activities, my father insisted that I take over. Now I knew why.
He wasn't just preparing to retire.
He was preparing for the end of his days.
I should feel sad, but my father had lived his life as he'd seen fit. I only hoped that he could spend several months or years with my mother as she'd always wanted.
I eased out of the Maserati, sliding the Beretta into my waistband. Cordero knew exactly what I was attempting to do. If there was any issue on the water, he'd find out within seconds. Our two men were already positioned on the dock ready to receive the ton that was expected out of sight within two minutes. They were all well trained and knew their shit.
They also realized what betrayal would mean.
If Kostya was behind this, his expectations would be for two men, as well as the two crewmembers. They would be sitting ducks for a skilled marksman such as the Maker.
Cordero would have ordered a solid dozen of our other soldiers to position themselves around the dock, preparing to handle any contingencies. Including any interference from law enforcement.
My expectations?
That the Maker would arrive, attempting to take possession. The speed boat could outrun almost any other, all while remaining almost undetectable by radar. If my assumptions were correct, Kostya was in charge of a brand spanking new operation, one he believed could rival our family's.
If I was right, the hijacking would take place the moment the boat was brought into the harbor.
I remained in the shadows, my vantage point capable of seeing the entire dock. While there hadn't been any sign of unusual activity, the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. My instinct told me that I was right. Something was about to go down.