Men of Mayhem (19 page)

Drago

A New Mafia Trilogy Novella

Victor

The vibrations of the tattoo gun in my hand and its familiar buzzing were second nature to me. Occasionally stopping to wipe away blood, I glanced down at my client. His eyes were fixed on the flames coming to life on his chest. A phoenix emerging from fire is what he wanted, so after a few sketches, he approved the design that was becoming permanently stamped on his now hairless chest. We had scheduled three hours for his first session, and time was almost up. I got to a stopping point and put A&D ointment on the raw skin before securing a large bandage over it. Standing up, my client stretched and handed me six hundred dollars in cash.

“My attorney charges less per hour,” he said with a smile. “But at least with you I know I’m getting my money’s worth.”

I laughed and handed him a tube of ointment plus aftercare instructions. “Same time next week?”

“Yeah. I’m still in between shoots so that’ll work.”

My client, an up and coming actor, left through the back door of my private office. It emptied out into an alley. Ever since I’d been featured as the tattoo artist to the stars, and even approached about a reality show, the front entrance to my shop had become a popular hangout for paparazzi hoping to get pictures of my celebrity clientele.

Not all of my clients were there for tattoos, though. I went out to the front and reminded Dani that I was not to be disturbed. “Got it, Victor, only unless the fucking place is on fire,” she said, making her voice deep in an attempt to impersonate me being serious.

Grabbing a Red Bull from the mini fridge underneath the front counter, I disappeared into my office and locked the door. Minutes later there was a light knock at the private entrance. I had a security camera mounted right outside with a live feed to a monitor. Verifying the person at the door wasn’t a cop, I let him in.

Gio had given me few details as per usual. I only knew how much to collect and if it was an actual hit or just a beat down.

“Have a seat.” I gestured to a chair in the corner. The man sat down and his gaze darted around the small room, taking in the display of my work. A collection of sketches and pictures of completed tattoos lined the walls. He licked his lips and his fingers tapped against his leg like he was counting out a tempo, but I knew it was nerves.

“First time?” I asked.

“Yes.”

I nodded and sat down across from him. The man fidgeted and had a hard time making eye contact. “Do you have the paperwork?”

“Um, yes, right here.” He opened up the brown envelope he had been carrying and handed me a picture plus a sheet with essential information like name and current address. Reaching into the envelope again, he pulled out a thick stack of cash. “Fifty grand, right?”

I did a quick count and made sure there were indeed fifty one thousand dollar bills before setting that off to the side and looking over the details. “So you don’t want the body left behind, correct?”

“Right, I want it to look like she disappeared.”

I nodded again and chewed on the small hoop on my lower lip. All of the information was there and this wasn’t new to me. This guy was some big shot who got involved with a woman, not his wife, who most likely threatened to blackmail him for all he was worth. Instead of going through a long and very public divorce settlement or to pay the extortion fees, it was cheaper to get rid of them. That’s what I did for Gio. He was the boss of the L.A. mob, head of the Bianchi crime family, and I was one of his enforcers for hire.

“It will be taken care of by the end of the week,” I told him. He stood up, but we didn’t shake hands. Minimal contact all around was the best practice. After the man left, I put the cash in a small safe tucked away underneath my desk and looked at the picture of my mark for the last time, memorizing the details of her face right down to the mole on her cheek and the slight overbite of her smile. Using my Zippo lighter, I lit the edges and dropped the paperwork in the sink. The paper burned first, disintegrating into gray ash. I watched the edges of the picture curl and then melt, distorting the woman’s face. Her eyes and mouth stretched as flames licked through before devouring the rest of her features until she disappeared completely.

Just like that picture, soon the woman would be gone from the earth, buried in the desert among the graves of other dirty little secrets, which there were a lot of in Hollywood. It was good money and Gio recognized the opportunity. Hey, as long as I got paid and didn’t get caught, it was all good.

Lauren

You can do this. You were trained for this.
I repeated the mantra in my head, hoping the motivational speech took root. I studied myself in the mirror one last time. The gray pinstripe pencil skirt was still wrinkle-free, as was the white blouse with capped sleeves. Black heels completed the outfit. My young corporate America outfit had been chosen specifically to help me blend in. My blonde hair was pinned up in a twist, which was a good thing as I was so nervous I’d probably wind up chewing on it.

“Okay, let’s do this,” I said out loud. After grabbing my sunglasses and bag, I left my studio apartment. It was a short drive to the office and I arrived ten minutes early for my first day.
Better early than late
. One of my dad’s favorite sayings immediately popped into my head and made me smile. He had been gone for ten years yet still managed to find a way to say the right thing.

My boss, Katherine Smith, was already in and looked up from her computer when she heard me walk in.

“Lauren, welcome.” She came out to greet me and took me on a tour of the suite. After getting a cup of coffee at the Kuerig in the break room, she showed me to my office. It was small, maybe a ten by ten space, but it had a window overlooking the busy street below and let in plenty of sunlight.

“Hold on, I forgot something,” Katherine said and left, returning moments later with a cactus in a terracotta planter. The cactus was in bloom and covered in tiny, pale yellow blossoms. “Here you go.” She handed the plant to me.

“Thank you,” I said and set it on the desk which was empty except for a laptop, monitor, phone, and a stapler.

“You’re welcome. Feel free to decorate your office, add some flair. It’s pretty barren as it is.”

I agreed, taking in the blank white walls and plain office equipment.

Katherine left me alone to get settled in, promising to return in half an hour to go over paperwork and office policies and procedures. As soon as she left, I sat down at my desk and pulled out my cell phone.

Me: So far so good. Getting assimilated.

Boss: Great. Still on to broach target later?

Me: Yes.

Slipping the phone back in my bag I busied myself with getting familiar with the computer. My passwords were provided on a sticker stuck to the bottom of the laptop. I shook my head at the lack of concern over security.

I am Lauren Holly Michaels, the new staffing specialist for Deacon Staffing Consultants and new to Los Angeles via Columbus, Ohio. At least that’s what anyone who dug into my background would find. In reality, I am Lauren Hope Daniels and an Intelligence Analyst for the DEA, working undercover. My target was Victor Drago, known enforcer for the Bianchi crime family and owner of a tattoo shop one block over from my office. This was my first case and the only reason I had been assigned to it was because I was new—a fresh face to the agency and an unknown. Anyone on the Bianchi payroll within the agency or with local law enforcement would not know me. So, technically it was my first day for both jobs. Balancing both would be challenging, but I needed the staffing gig as my cover.

The day went by quickly as Katherine caught me up to speed on the employers who made up my client list. We reviewed potential candidates for positions with these clients, and Katherine had me forward my recommendations as a way of introducing myself. I walked with her to the parking garage and got in my car, but didn’t leave. Once Katherine drove past and made her way toward the exit, I got back out and unclipped my hair. It tumbled down around my shoulders in thick waves. After a quick application of red lipstick I was ready.

Vicious Ink came into view when I rounded the corner. Three motorcycles were parked right out front. A black Harley Davidson Road King caught my attention and then I confirmed the license plate. Intel had provided information on Victor’s vehicles so I had made a point to memorize all of the tags. Victor was here. I took a deep breath before opening the door to his shop, adding an extra sway to my hips as I stepped inside.

Victor

It was after five and that’s when things usually got busy. I had a break in between appointments so I went up to the front for another Red Bull. Dani was on the phone and had some dude at the counter in front of her. He was leafing through a photo album full of tattoo ideas and examples of past work. I grabbed a can out of the refrigerator and heard the bell on the front door chime. I looked up and that’s when I saw her. Sun hitting the front of my shop provided a backlight that showcased this woman’s figure. She was all curves and as my eyes moved lower; I saw she was all legs too. Her skirt skimmed the top of her knees and her calves were toned. She moved closer to the counter and out of the light, but seemed to carry the sun with her. Blonde hair spilled over her breasts and her tan skin practically sparkled. My gaze was drawn to her flawless skin. I didn’t see a trace of any ink. I chewed on my lip ring as I admired the potentially blank canvas on the woman who stood in front of me.

“How can I help you?” I asked.

The woman gave me a shy smile and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking up at me with eyes that wavered between blue and green. “I want a tattoo,” she said, and I detected a slight accent. Was it southern, Midwestern? I couldn’t place it, but wasn’t surprised. Native Angelinos were far outnumbered by transplants. “Um, it’ll be my first, but people told me this is the place to go.”

“Is that right? What did you have in mind?” Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Dani staring at me. I rarely helped new customers right off the street and left those for the other artists since I was usually booked out. There was no way in hell I would let anyone else touch this woman, though.

“Um.” She cleared her throat and glanced around. “Can I discuss this with you in private? It’s kind of personal.”