Odd Jobs (33 page)

“What exactly is this? What is he trying to do?”

“Him and his partner bought their way into factories and road construction in Iran. They’re dealing directly with the Iranian government. Since 1979 when the Ayatollah took the American hostages, there are all these sanctions on the United States doing business with Iran. Balducci is going to fund and start these entities and bring black-market American products to Iran. Including weapons.”

Sev’s eyes opened a little wider than usual. “For real?”

I loved being able to surprise him. “Hey, let me ask you this. Has Balducci been skimming more or less from Kosher World lately?”

“Much more now than ever before,” Sev answered, his eyes still wide. “It used to be like 15 percent he would take and sell directly. Lately it’s been 50 percent.”

“You see?” I crowed. “He needs the money now. He’s taking half of all the merchandise. That’s crazy risky, even for him.”

“What else you got?” Sev asked.

“Balducci has been accumulating retail stores through
o
ut New York. Then he fills them with products he skimmed from factories. It’s not just from Industrial Road, but from factories all over the state. The ultimate profit margin, Balducci would buy for free, but then sell at full retail. Now he’s dealing with whole shopping malls. The man personally has millions of dollars, enough for any man to retire with. But here’s the thing: Balducci has pledged everything he’s got to this new Iran idea. I mean everything. He’s pledged the stores, the real estate and the malls. Balducci’s balls are on the line. He’s tied up tighter now than ever, and the beauty of that is, he is vulnerable.”

“How so?” Sev asked.

“He can’t borrow from banks and he needs money. This skimming business is strictly for the leg-breakers. Here’s the major point: Balducci is relying on cash flow to keep him going right now. He’s up to his eyes in debt, and the money he takes in is what keeps him going. But every time he thinks he is covered, back over in Iran there is another corrupt government official to bribe and another coincidental delay in work that makes this project further and further from completion. He’s in too deep to bail and he needs more to support his position.”

“I don’t get it,” Sev grumbled. “If he has tons of money, why do this shit at all?”

“Sev, this has nothing to do with money. Back in Remington Academy, Balducci was always rubbing elbows with all the white-bread dudes there. He wants to be white-bread. You can’t turn back time and force your ancestors onto the Mayflower, but Balducci believes that if he reaches a certain level of power, even the white-bread world has to accept him.”

Sev slumped over his whiskey bottle and concentrated on stirring the ice in his glass. “So how do we stop him?”

“Balducci doesn’t have a margin of error now. He’s got it all riding. We have to strike soon and we have to take back Industrial Road. Not only is Industrial Road Balducci’s primary income now, but it’s also the heart of his credibility. We stop him here, we can stop it all.”

This idea began to penetrate Sev’s body. He leaned back in his chair again, closed his eyes and raised his chin. Then Sev’s eyes opened and he grinned. I saw the whites of Sev’s eyes pushing away the haze of whiskey. This past year, Sev, the natural leader of men with the heart of a winner, took a back seat. Sev was a spectator as his friends were being browbeaten and demoralized. Georgie and Hector were whacked and put on display in the most horrid attempts to intimidate and control. It was killing Sev, but now I had put some hope back into Sev’s body. He didn’t know shit about my plan yet, but the mere possibility of fighting back had resurrected Sev.

We talked for hours. We drank, we listened to blues music and we planned our attack. Sev had a whole different perspective on things and brought up ideas that I wouldn’t dream of. Sev wanted to talk to his old boy Curtis, the guy dressed like a cop who pulled me out of the last Industrial Road bout. Sev thought Curtis would jump on the idea. “He’s supposed to be stopping guys like Balducci anyway. If he breaks this open, it could be a big deal for Curtis.”

“But he didn’t do any of this.”

Sev laughed. “Son, when he gets done back-dating the records, this plan will have been in motion for six years. Believe me, government guys know how to take credit for shit. Is that something you care about?”

“I don’t.” I really didn’t give a rat’s ass who took credit, especially since I knew that having Curtis on board would increase the chances of my plan’s success.

Before 10 a.m. Sev had spoken with Curtis and got him involved. “Just like that, he’s in?” I asked Sev over the phone.

Sev snorted, annoyed by the question. “Did you doubt what I said?”

“No, but I’m surprised he’s willing to get involved, no strings attached.”

“There may be a string.”

“Well, what does Curtis want from us?”

“He didn’t say.”

“Okay then, what
did
he say?”

Sev told me that Curtis could dump a lot of resources on our plan and thought we could get the job done. “But he needs something from us.”

“What? What does he need from us?”

“Christ! I told you, he wouldn’t say. He said he needs something from us when we take Balducci down, but he wants us to concentrate on the task at hand for now.”

“Sev, isn’t that weird?”

“You think that’s weird? Shit, do you see who we are involved with?”

“Yeah, good point,” I agreed. “We can’t avoid committing to Curtis?”

“It’s a deal breaker. If you don’t want to deal with Curtis, then fuck it. He’ll stay out of the way and watch from the sidelines.”

I paused and thought about that idea. “You trust him?”

“Yeah, I trust him.”

“That’s good enough for me.” Besides, what were the odds I’d be alive when this was over anyway? “Okay, I’m ready to go.”

“Good. I’ll tell Curtis.”

I didn’t know what Curtis wanted from me or what
corrupt idea he had for the remains of the Balducci dynasty,
but I figured I’d jump off that bridge when I got there. First
,
I’d fuck up Balducci, and then I’d worry about Curtis. I was almost hoping I’d eat a bullet during the process so I wouldn’t have to worry about the consequences.

CHAPTER 25

That conversation took place two months ago, and now NY State University is beginning to emerge from hibernation. It’s warmer, and the student body has shed overcoats and ski parkas for windbreakers and Gorilla sweatshirts. Albany is no longer gray from the winter, and daffodils and crocuses are splashing color around the campus. It’s a fun time at school as the spring semester winds down. There are outdoor events with music and flowing kegs. Sure, there are some annoying final exams to take, but we normally manage to fit them in the schedule as well.

Unfortunately, I won’t be drinking from those kegs, listening to that music or for that matter, taking those final exams. It’s hard to believe that, after all I’ve been able to juggle, I won’t be able to get my degree. I’m standing in the kitchen of my apartment with Rocky when I tell her this. I say that it’s a temporary detour and that I’ll be back in the fall to finish my last semester. It’s not like I’m lying, because it’s not completely out of the question, but realistically, if I’m still on this planet, I won’t be the same person. It will be hard to jump back into the frat scene after killing Balducci. I think we both know that but aren’t saying it. She’s worried, and while we were all putting on a nice act before, now the guard is down.

Rocky faces me, slides her hands around my waist and rests her thumbs on the back two belt loops on my jeans. She tugs down and draws me closer. “You know,” she says, “you can wait a few more weeks. Why not just finish your exams?”

“Baby, I haven’t been to class in weeks,” I answer.

I
’ll
write your teachers a note.”

“Oh, I can just see that note: ‘Please excuse Kevin because he has to kill Mr. Balducci.’”

Rocky releases my belt loops and says, “Seriously, just finish school first. I know your father would have wanted that.”

Normally, I would consider that a low blow, but I know she’s concerned and I know she’s reaching for straws. “C’mon, Rocky, you know I have to do this.”

“But why now?”

“Baby, the timing is out of my hands. There are lots of people involved now.”

“I can’t just sit here and wait for you. I want to go, too. I can help.”

“No way, Rocky. We’ve been through this before. If I thought you were in danger, it would fuck up my thinking. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re the reason I’m coming back. But you know I have to do this. We both knew this day would come eventually.” I’m staring at Rocky and trying not to be weird, but I want to remember every feature of her face. Damn, she’s the best.

All the chips are on the table, and the clandestine crap is done. Fewer than 150 workers show up at Kosher World today, the third day of our job action. The first two days were quiet, but the place is heading toward panic. Throughout the last few months Sev tapped all the guys he can trust and told them what was going down. Considering how ruthless Balducci can be, it’s asking a lot. He couldn’t let everyone in on this because some guys, like Bino, would inevitably run and tell Balducci. This is the ultimate union job action and we need to use stealth for full impact. Sev estimates the level of participation in his job action would be 100 percent, and damn if he isn’t right. When Sev tells you to work, you work. I guess when Sev tells you, ‘Stay away and get out of town,’ you evaporate. I can’t think of a single person we tapped who showed up against Sev’s instruction.

These days, when union guys unleash a job action, they are fighting for more pay or better benefits. Back in the day when unions were forming, the workers were fighting for basic quality of life and dignity. That’s what we got here and that’s why this will work. It has to. Hector Pinto just wanted to go back home and make a better life for himself and look what happened. I hate Balducci for what he did to my family, but these Kosher World workers and everyone else on Industrial Road are looking to take back a freedom that Balducci refuses to relinquish.

Still, after today, we are vulnerable. There is no way the source of this disruption, meaning Sev and I, is going to stay secret. Thousands of people are involved, and some have much less fortitude than others, especially given the way Balducci’s people ask questions. Balducci will know Sev and I are trying to take him down.

Right now, Industrial Road is at a standstill. One hundred and fifty people can barely turn the lights on. How can you make the pastrami and hot dogs if you can’t unload the beef from the trucks?

Holy shit, look at all the fucking trucks backed up by the loading docks! These 50 trucks full of beef will be completely worthless. It’s real pile-on time for Balducci. Fifty truckloads of beef in front of Kosher World, a hundred tankers of dairy product lined up outside Moon Beam Cheese, and other products all over Industrial Road factories looking to get processed. The place is rendered useless just when Balducci is trying to parlay everything he has into Iran. The Iranian public officials waiting for bribe money will have a long wait. Fuckin’ Balducci is wound up so tight this is sure to give him an aneurism.

Sev and I are holed up at the Astoria Diner nearby. Sev is getting updates from the few people he planted. Sev told them to show up at Kosher World and some of the other factories and act as if they didn’t know anything. So far, the reports are encouraging. Not only is Balducci losing revenue but his communications skills are taking a holiday as well. He is barking orders and screaming in tirades so laden with spit he could fill the Hudson River. What’s adding to Balducci’s well-earned paranoia is that even his most loyal captains aren’t around. Sev had earlier earmarked those scumbags so Curtis and his special service guys could creatively detain them. I’m sure Balducci has no idea who has abandoned him. For sport, we let Bino get through, and that dim-bulb fuck is all the seasoned counseling Balducci can muster.