The Death Wish Hit

“Word’s come in. The package will be arriving here in a couple of weeks,” Marcos said, as drops of white gravy with specks of black pepper slowly made its way down his chin. Marcos continued to chew his food, stopping for a moment to remove a piece of the biscuit that was lodged in his upper palate. He resumed chewing loudly, as if his mother had never taught him to chew his food like a gentleman. Riley McCoy was a Special Agent for the DEA working on a deep undercover assignment using the alias of Joey Strattos for the past three years. A few years earlier he looked just like most of the federal agents that were easily identified and tracked by the mob. He used to be clean shaven with a high and tight military cut that masked the grey strands of hair that had started to sneak in from all the stress of the job. Standing at just over six feet tall and packed from head to toe with muscle and brawn, he was an imposing figure. His dark, arched shaped eye brows above dark brown eyes, along with the Roman style nose typical of an Italians, which helped him land the role for the assignment. A tattoo on his right shoulder and bicep bent and twisted over the toned muscles in his arm. Riley had managed to befriend Marcos Giordano who was the second cousin and family enforcer of an Italian Mafia Boss named Anthony Giordano. Marcos was an attractive man with stylish hair and a stunning smile. His hair was dark and his thick eyebrows matched. His eyes were blue and he had set dimples that sunk deep in to his olive-colored tanned skin and would make almost any woman stop and stare. He dressed sharp in the finest clothes and his wrist always had an expensive and flashy watch on, and an expensive chain around his neck. Over the years, Marcos proved himself worthy of being the enforcer. The majority of the family’s operation was run from a well-protected estate on the east coast just outside of Miami. Anthony would travel from the estate to other locations in San Diego, Los Angeles, Houston, Mexico, and the Caribbean when needed. He had capos, mafia captains, running the business throughout these places, and the two men he depended on to oversee the operations of these activities in Southern California were Daniel Sabato and Pauli Martini. With one of the DEA regional headquarters so close to the main international shipping ports in San Diego, the crime boss wanted a smaller, less noticeable port such as Long Beach, to bring in the largest shipment of goods they had ever tried to smuggle in. He wanted good crews working for him on this shipment who could easily outsmart the DEA, and Daniel’s and Pauli’s had proven to be those crews. Anthony’s hands were not only deep in drug trafficking, but other illegal activities such as extortion, gambling, prostitution, sex trafficking, loan sharking, transporting illegal firearms, and the list went on and on. The man was corrupt and ruthless. “Do we have a time yet?” Riley asked. Marcos shook his head, trying to swallow at the same time. “All we know is that it’s coming into this port. Anthony wants to avoid the bigger ports right now with all the heat in Sandy.” Sandy was short for San Diego. “I guess we’ll find out the night before. That’ll keep information from leaking out. It seems we have another rat,” Marcos informed disgustedly. “Excuse me, waitress…” he said, finally wiping the gravy off his face. The waitress stopped and turned around, matching Marcos smile for smile. She had taken notice of him when he walked in. She was a beautiful young blonde with her white blouse unbuttoned just enough to show off her breast. “Can I get you anything? More coffee?” she offered, ignoring Riley. Who wouldn’t? Next to Marcos’ charming face and deep dimples, Riley was nothing. “As a matter of fact you can. I thought I saw something over there. Could you turn around please?” Marcos asked, using his fork to motion the waitress. A look of confusion escaped her turquoise eyes, but looking at his beautiful, reassuring smile, she turned around as he had asked. Using his fork, Marcos lifted up her black skirt revealing a lacey black thong that exposed a firm, tight butt under sheer black stockings. Realizing what he had done, the young lady turned quickly, slapping Marcos’ hand away. “Jerk,” she yelled behind her as she stormed off. “Hey, since you like serving people, I have a job I can hook you up with,” Marcos called out. “You’d be able to make a lot more money in my business, sweetheart!” Riley shook his head, trying hard to hide the disgust he had inside. He looked around the adjoining booths to see who caught the fiasco, embarrassed for them both. How much longer did he have to play this game? Two weeks? Two days? No amount of time would be soon enough. “Well, we gotta get outta here and meet the guys at the club. Besides,” Marcos said looking over Riley’s shoulder, noticing the waitress pointing over at them while talking to the manager, “I think we’re going to get kicked outta here.” He took out his wallet and laid fifty dollar bill on the table. She could keep the change, he figured. It was worth the peek he stole from her. “You mentioned a leak a few minutes ago,” Riley said. “Does this meeting have to do with that?” Riley tried to hide the concern in his voice. Another leak could mean another undercover agent’s murder. “No,” Marcos lowered his voice. “It’s about a hit on some defense lawyer who got a prick off on child molestation charges, and the kid’s dad is a relative of someone Daniel knows. He’s paying good money to serve justice the old fashion way. God knows the bastard deserves it.” Riley sat in silence shaking his head up and down. Yes, the man probably did deserve it. There was nothing worse than a child molester, but Marcos’ thirst for eliminating people wasn’t much better. As Marcos got up from the table to leave, Riley sat for a moment staring out the window thinking. After this job was over, he was leaving on a very long vacation. He deserved it. He got up and walked to exit out the door. The lady in booth next to them was staring at him, her head following him as he walked by. “Your friend is a jerk!” the waitress angrily yelled out to Riley as he turned around the last booth to leave. Riley turned slightly toward the waitress and her manager with one foot out the door giving an apologetic smile, then stepped out into the bright, warm sunlight. As he put on his black sunglasses, he took in a deep breath of the salt air drifting from the nearby ocean. There was no question that some people considered Long Beach and San Diego the perfect vacation spots, but for him, it couldn’t be anything less.