When the Man Comes Around part 3

The street kids worked for him now and he taught them to be smarter about their business. Instead of pick-pocketing the locals, they went to the resorts and stole from wealthy tourists. Begging was also an option. Some of the kids knew card games and they were used to scam naive marks when needed. The kids were happy since their profits increased and were more than willing to leave most of it for Nadie, who gave it to the orphanage. Sister Mary Catalina was glad he was raising money for the church, but she was concerned how he managed to do it. “God provides,” Nadie told her proudly, “You were right.” He could tell that she was concerned, but he was convinced she would understand one day.

He was almost 18 now, which meant he’d be leaving the orphanage soon. Santiago grew older and gray hairs began to emerge, but his age served a purpose since Nadie had him and some of the older boys buying drugs from the local cartels. The orders were strict – no one used. They only bought the product. They would then cut the drugs with sugar or flour, creating an inferior product, but one that made them money. They followed Nadie’s orders because he treated them well, but when a boy got out of hand, he made sure the others corrected him. He saw the benefit of creating a family, one in which he was the patriarch. Their profits increased and eventually, their drug sales caught the attention of Roberto De La Vega, which Nadie counted on.

****

Michael had changed into his armor, taking the guise of the Cavalier. After the attacks during the Democracy Day parade, he wanted to learn more about the group. He already had a theory they were La Respuesta, a group of freedom fighters dedicated to fighting against the corrupted Costa Triste government. While he didn’t agree with their methods, he wondered if an alliance could be made. He only needed to find them.

As he raced along the rooftops, he didn’t see the gunman in the street. A single bullet was fired, hitting his shoulder-plate. It bounced off harmlessly, but achieved its goal – it got his attention. The gunman turned and ran into a nearby building, so the Cavalier shot a grappling line to his location and was on the ground level in a second. He accessed the Round Table, bringing up a shield and sword made of hard light, then entered the building.

As it was very late, the restaurant was empty. The Cavalier suspected that the owners closed it for the night and had no knowledge it would be used as a meeting place. A tall man with long, gray hair stood before him, flanked by two men (one of whom was the gunman he saw seconds earlier) and a woman.

“Nice to meet ya, Cav. Sorry about shooting you,” the older man began, “Only way I knew how to get your attention.” He had an American accent, so he knew he wasn’t one of Nadie’s men, nor a member of La Respuesta. More than likely – a federal agent.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Agent Saffron. CIA.”

“What do you need from me, Saffron?”

“I need you to go back to New York.”

The Cavalier wasn’t surprised by the request as it wasn’t the first time a government agency asked him to stand down (the previous time being the IMD trying to bring down New Agartha). His answer was similar in this situation, “Not a chance.”

“I expected that answer and I understand it completely,” Saffron raised his palms in defense, “Nadie’s been a problem for you for a while. Even after New York got blown to hell, he kept coming after you and your friends. How many times did you have his right-hand man in your clutches, only for him to escape? That’s gotta tug on the `ol shorthairs.”

“I warned Nadie I’d come after him.”

“I’m sure you did, but the thing is, this isn’t New York. It’s one thing to beat up a few thugs in your backyard, but now you’re on Nadie’s turf. He’s not gonna send a few thugs this time. He’s gonna send a damn army. He knew you were coming and had fighter jets ready to shoot you down. Remember that? And yes, we saw you entering the country and nearly getting yourself killed. We have satellite images of that whole affair and we were able to track you down in about 48 hours. It was pretty easy. I imagine Nadie can get his hands on you soon enough. Is it sinking in yet? Are you starting to put it together? You’re in over your head. I should know. I’ve been here for a while.”

“And why is that exactly?”

“The CIA makes it a point to keep tabs on foreign threats, especially if said threat blew up New York City Hall recently. We’re on the same side, really.”

“We’re not. Your organization once tricked Ryan Bennings into building weapons for a coup right here in Costa Triste. Said weapons were eventually sold to Columbian cartels decades later. You cause more problems than you solve.”

Saffron gave him a knowing smile, “I know nothing about weapons or coups.”

“I’m sure you don’t.”

“Look, you have your way and we have ours. I’m sorry to say, I think our way might be a little better in this situation.”

“Where were you last night? I ask because I helped save innocent lives after an attack from a group I believe to be La Respuesta.”

“Oh, we had eyes on that situation, trust me,” he motioned toward the Latina woman wearing camo, “Allow me to introduce Ramona Sanchez. She’s our liaison to La Respuesta.”

“We were given the green light to act during the parade,” she explained.

Cavalier turned to Saffron, “This is who you’re in bed with?”

“Like I said… you have your way and we have ours.”

“We’re fighting against a corrupt government!” Ramona sneered.

“Killing your way through crowds of people is not how that’s done.”

“This isn’t your country!” she snapped, “You don’t understand! We know what we’re doing.”

“Sure about that? From what I saw, your friends either got killed or arrested by the cops.”

“Sacrifices are needed to accomplish our goals.”

“Doesn’t seem like you accomplished much.”

“It would seem that way to someone who has no idea what’s going on!”

Saffron rested a hand on her shoulder to politely get her to stop speaking for the moment, “I dunno how many ways I can say that you’re out of your element, Cav. Your best bet is to just go home. Take care of your city. I promise, Nadie isn’t gonna cause any more trouble on US soil.”

“I agree with that last part,” Cavalier turned to leave.

“Don’t make this difficult for yourself,” Saffron called after him, “Our generosity only goes so far!”

****

Roberto De La Vega showed up in the neighborhood shortly after Nadie had gone into the drug business. He asked to meet Nadie in a derelict building, which he agreed to. He could see the young boys under his leadership were scared, but he was calm. Shortly after the cartel arrived, De La Vega strolled into the darkened room, flanked by his men. He smiled proudly at Nadie as he approached, but the smile quickly faded once he was reminded of his business.

“When I heard about a kid in a wheelchair running things in this neighborhood, I thought it might be you,” De La Vega stooped down to meet his eye line,“You came up in the world, mano.”

Nadie nodded in appreciation, “Thank you, sir.”

“Are you really calling yourself ‘Nobody’? What’s your real name, mano?”

“I’m an orphan. I don’t have a name.”

“I gotta call you something else.”

“None of the others get a name. Why should I have one?”

“Have it your way,” his tone became more serious, “You know why I wanted to meet you today?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not working for the Basurto Cartel are you?”

“No.”

“… But you’ve been making money off my product.”

“Right, I bought your product to see how we can increase revenue,” Nadie held out his hand and one of the street kids gave him a book, “I estimated how much money you make in this neighborhood and cut the product to resell, then compared the profits.” Nadie opened the book and showed De La Vega his numbers. “I found the perfect balance; we can cut more and actually make a larger sum of money.”

De La Vega looked at the numbers, “That’s not bad, but -”

“I think we should cut that much in all our territories. We can easily make twice as much. The customers won’t notice.”

He looked at the young man inquisitively and considered his response before saying it, “…Let’s go talk in private.”

Nadie never formally asked to be a part of the DecLa Vega Cartel, but knew his business plans were undeniable. He remained respectful and purposefully acted as if he was already a part of the cartel. Knowing De La Vega had a soft spot for him, he knew he could get away with it. It wasn’t that he didn’t have gratitude for what De La Vega did for him, but his power and money served a purpose. The street kids served a purpose. It was God’s will.

Within the year, De La Vega agreed to bring Nadie into the cartel as an accountant. Nadie was sent to a university despite not having much of a legal identity and there, he learned all he could regarding business, language, and philosophy. De La Vega also paid to have a nurse assist Nadie every morning. “You want me to pay for another kinda woman to take care of you, lemme know,” De La Vega joked. Nadie smiled. He didn’t have time for that sort of thing. He had a single goal. On the day he left the orphanage, a car arrived to take him to a new apartment. Sister Mary Catalina gave him a warm hug and kissed his cheek.

“I’m so proud of you for getting this job,” she told him.

“God is good,” he told her.

She gave him a curious look, “He is… But it’s still surprising you managed to make all this money.”

He smiled and held her hand, “It doesn’t matter. As long as I take care of you and the orphans, we shouldn’t be concerned where the money comes from.”

She gave him a worried look, “Be well, Eduard.”

In the coming months, Nadie used De La Vega’s connections to organize a fund-raiser for orphans in Costa Triste. De La Vega was more than happy to oblige. The first charity included a few lawyers and philanthropists. The next one included the mayor himself. The state governor attended the third.

The next fund-raiser was an even larger success. Nadie was pleased that numbers were growing and made sure money was sent back to Paz Armónica Basilica, his former orphanage. Nadie sat to the side as the attendees mingled. It was rare that anyone noticed him, much less approached him. He wanted it that way. He didn’t want to be noticed, so it was a bit surprising when the tall, middle-aged man walked across the ballroom and shook his hand.

“Hello, I’m Sergio Verdugo. Secret Police.”

Nadie was familiar with Costa Triste’s Secret Police. They were an anti-cartel organization and were known to be highly corrupt. “Good evening, sir,” Nadie greeted him respectfully, masking his concern.

“I’m pretty impressed with what you’ve accomplished,” Verdugo gazed around the room, his hands in his pockets. “Not bad for an orphan. Makes one wonder how you managed all this.”

Nadie did his best to hide his disdain, “God has chosen to bless me, sir.”

Verdugo leaned in, almost coming nose-to-nose, “I’m gonna cut to the chase. I know who your boss is. Don’t insult my intelligence with some bullshit about a non-profit organization. I want Roberto De La Vega. I want him bad. Now, listen, I know you’re just the money man. I’m not gonna waste time putting you in prison. It’s bad optics to go after some college kid in a wheelchair. Instead, you’re gonna tell me where I can find De La Vega.”

Nadie remained calm, “I’m not sure I understand your meaning, sir.”

“I told you not to insult my intelligence, you little shit. Do it again, and I will not hesitate to dump you outta that wheelchair. Now, I get it that you might feel some loyalty to the guy or maybe even fear. I understand. If you can’t deliver him to me, then you can just give me 50% of what you raise tonight. The next time you have one of these things? That’s another 50% unless you give me what I want. And so it goes. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“Yes,” he answered quietly.

He handed Nadie a card with information, “I’ll give you a month. Have De La Vega meet me and my men or give me my money.” He stood up and straightened his blazer. “Nice party,” he said derisively before taking his leave. Nadie watched him go, seething with anger. The following day, Nadie informed De La Vega:

“This is bad timing, mano,” De La Vega told him, “The Basurto Cartel has been expanding in the North, which means they’re encroaching on our territory. I’m trying to stand my ground without this whole thing turning into a gang war. Now you tell me this?”

“Would it have been better if I hadn’t?” he asked sincerely.

He waved him off, “Nah, you did good. This cop wants to screw with your fund raising to get to me. We can’t fight someone in the Secret Police.”

“I have a suggestion,” Nadie took a berry from the paper bag in his lap, which drew De La Vega’s attention.

“Wait, is that Child’s Faith?” De La Vega said nervously as he watched Mano eat a berry that was known to be highly poisonous.

“Yes, but remember, I grew up farther North. The orphans and other kids ate these all the time,” Nadie explained, indicating the immunity he had built up.

“Oh yeah. I forgot.”

“At any rate,” Nadie put the paper bag away, “I have a suggestion. I think I can get rid of the officer while also making sure the Basurto Cartel don’t press into our territory.”

The older man shook his head, “You’re a smart guy, mano. You’re good with numbers, but you don’t have any experience fighting a war… especially one on two fronts.”

“I only ask that you listen to my idea,” Nadie offered politely.

Weeks later, the leaders of the Basurto cartel received communication from Santiago Gonzalez. He told them that, since he had been with the De La Vega Cartel for years, he had vital information that Basurto needed. He asked to meet them on a secluded road to speak to them in exchanged for a large sum of money. They agreed.

Meanwhile, Sergio Verdugo led a convoy of government vehicles to the same road. He told his peers that he had gotten an anonymous tip, but in reality, Nadie had finally contacted him and told him when and where he could find De La Vega. As Nadie expected, he didn’t tell anyone that he was blackmailing a man running a charity.

On the road, Basurto’s lieutenants and their men stepped out to face Santiago. “So what information do you have?” the cartel leader asked, “It better be good.” Santiago nodded nervously while standing in front of his car, “It is. Trust me.”

The Secret Police convoy came swiftly down the hill, getting everyone’s attention. “It’s a trap!” one of the cartel members shouted. Santiago leapt behind his car as Basurto’s men opened fire on the convoy. The Secret Police stopped their cars and got out to return fire. Santiago crawled along the dirty road, making his way to Verdugo’s feet as bullets flew overhead. “Don’t shoot! I did everything you asked!” he shouted as he came closer. “What the hell?” Verdugo aimed his gun at Santiago, ready to fire. From a remote location, a detonator was triggered and there was a massive explosion.

Nothing was left of Santiago. Verdugo was killed instantly, as were a few of the Secret Police members. It was seen as an attack from the Basurto Cartel and in the coming days, the Secret Police did everything they could to track down the members and slaughter them, mostly ignoring all other gangs.

As it turned out, Nadie had brought Santiago out of retirement for “one final task”. He was fitted with a heavy device on his back with several wires. The men told him it was a communication wire for the Secret Police – the story was that Santiago was acting as an informant to help the police bring down the Basurto Cartel, little knowing it was just an explosive.

De La Vega had no problem expanding into Basurto’s territory once the Secret Police took them out, making his cartel the largest in the country. Nadie was promoted to second-in-command and was able to expand his charity work.

****

A fire alarm woke Michael up and he quickly leapt out of bed. The large suitcase containing his armor sat in his chair and he quickly slid it under his bed before leaving the room and locking the door behind him.

After La Respuesta’s attack, tensions were high and the few people left in the hotel were nervous. Michael and the others filed outside and there didn’t appear to be any smoke or flames. The fire department came to investigate the building while a single police officer stood watch. It was soon determined that there was no fire. It was a false alarm. “Probably some punkass kid,” Michael heard one of the elderly tourists grumble. They went back inside the hotel and Michael unlocked his room and immediately looked under his bed. The suitcase was still there, but when he moved it, it seemed curiously light.

Gravely concerned, Michael pulled the suitcase out and opened it. As expected, the armor was gone. In its place was a note that included an address and a message: If you want your clothes back, meet me at 5pm tomorrow – Saffron. Michael angrily slammed the suitcase closed.

Continued…