Bishop's War (Bishop Series Book 1) Page 7

  “Yes Tio,” they said together.

  “Anyway, enough about business. It warms my heart to see you both together again. We’ve missed you, Johnny, welcome home,” Gonzalo said, hugging him again. “Bueno, there is much to talk about, but we’ll talk later. Go. Enjoy your party… and go find her!”

  Both cousins got up to leave when Gonzalo pointed at Felix.

  “You? Where do you think you’re going? Sit down, Señor Felix the Cat. You and me, we talk now.”

  Turning to leave, John looked back at Felix and gave him a big better you than me smile. Felix just rolled his eyes.

  As John walked out the door and down the long hallway he thought about his uncle’s advice. He would have to find something to do that would keep him satisfied both mentally and physically. He didn’t need money either. Through Calixto’s legitimate arm of the Valdez Empire, John, Felix, and all the inner family members had trust funds and property in their names. Calixto’s son Nelson was known as a real tightwad, but he had an MBA from Harvard and had made everyone financially secure. John knew he was too young to lie around counting his money for the rest of his life, but he’d think about all that later. Right now he wanted two things: to see Maria and to have a very quiet and very peaceful summer.

  The party in his honor was going strong on the great lawn with banquet tables of food and drinks, a live band, a packed dance floor, and banners with “Welcome Home John” hanging everywhere. He moved through the crowd, stopping to speak with everyone and catching up on details from friends and family he hadn’t seen in a very long time.

  His cousin Silvia ran over and threw her arms around him. She was his Uncle Sesa’s daughter, and they’d been really close as kids. Everyone called her Silvi and she was someone he could always talk to.

  “So cuz, you’re one badass super hero, huh?” she asked.

  “No, nothing like that,” he said humbly.

  “Well I hope you’ve been training.”

  “What’ya mean?”

  “Look around you, dude. Every chick in here is ready to pounce on you, man. If you listen close you can hear their coochies calling your name.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I ain’t kidding. Some of them just want to give you a welcome home ride, but most of ‘em are thinking about how cute your kids will be.”

  “You’re still crazy, Silvi,” John said laughing.

  “Maybe, but I hope you brought a case of condoms cause all those putas scouted out Calixto’s house so they know which rooms they can pull you into,” she said with a devilish grin.

  Just then her brother Antonio Valdez, Gonzalo’s heir apparent, walked up to them with his top lieutenant and enforcer, Benji Medina.

  “Hey Johnny, welcome home. It’s really good to see you, bro,” Antonio said as they embraced.

  “You too, Antonio. I see you’re still wearing the sweater.” Antonio was the tallest in the Valdez clan at six four, but what really set him apart from the rest of the family was his hair. Balding on top, everything up to his neck was covered in a thick kinky mass. Antonio took the good natured ribbing from those close to him, but from no one else. He was no joke, and when it came to gangsters he was the real deal.

  “Yeah, I’m still the family gorilla,” he said smiling.

  “Seriously T, Tio just told me the good news. You’re going to be Don Valdez soon. I know how hard you’ve worked for this. Congratulations, Jefe.”

  “Thanks, but I’m still learning from the best.”

  “Tio is putting the family in your hands, and I’m proud to have you lead us.”

  “That means a lot coming from you. Thanks Johnny.”

  “Hey Benji! I see you’re still watching my cousin’s back.”

  “Since the first grade. Good to see you bro,” Benji said.

  “You too, man.”

  Benji Medina was not an imposing figure. In contrast to Antonio, he was only five-eight, had a pock marked face and a slim build, but he gave men pause. He was known as “Medicina Medina” because a single dose of Benji was always fatal.

  “What’s up Steel Mags?” Silvi said to her brother.

  Antonio flinched and hastily said his goodbyes, saying they’d talk and catch up later. He quickly walked away towards the main house with Benji at his side.

  “Steel Mags?” John asked.

  “He was babysitting my kids last week when I went to a friend’s wedding. I come home and he’s on the couch in tears, crying like a baby.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “He was watching that movie, Steel Magnolias, with Dolly Parton and Julia Roberts. Some big time gangster, huh?” Silvi said, cracking up.

  “I think you were a little rough. He practically took off running.”

  “That pendejo tortured me my whole life. It’s time for some serious payback. You want to hear something really funny? Benji and his crew think “Steel Mags” has to do with guns or something. Like it’s a tough guy nick name. The tag may stick!”

  “Ouch,” was all John could say. Man it was good to be home he thought as Silvi ran off to stop her kids from ripping down one of the big banners with his name on it.

  The Valdez clan was huge. He had forty-two cousins living in and around New York and most of them were married with kids so Calixto’s estate was quickly filling up. John spotted his uncle Macho in the crowd and walked over to say hi.

  Macho had been a great boxer in his day. A Golden Gloves champion, undefeated in six pro bouts, his son Chris was born the night of his last fight. There were complications and Chris’ mother died in childbirth. Macho quit the ring to raise him. Chris was his only child and his pride and joy.

  Even though Chris was almost fifteen years younger than John they shared the common bond of both having lost their mothers. They always kept in touch and had written each other long letters when John was overseas.

  “Where’s Chris?”

  “Right behind you.”

  John turned and was stunned to see the mischievous, gangly teenager he remembered replaced by a strong, handsome and confident young man. More than anything else it was the Army uniform that Chris wore that had him tongue tied.

  “This one’s following in your footsteps, John,” Macho said, his voice filled with pride.

  “But when? How? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I wanted to surprise you. ”

  “Are you serious?”

  “He even got promoted already. You’re looking at Private First Class Christopher Valdez “

  “This is unbelievable!”

  “There’s more. Tell him Chris.”

  “I got accepted to try out for Special Forces. I start the course in three weeks.”

  “Come here, boy.” John wrapped his arms around Chris. “So, I’ve got three weeks to get you ready? That course almost killed me. In the meantime let’s see what you’ve got.”

  They squared off, throwing jabs and a few light punches at each other until John moved in and grabbed him in a head lock.

  After Chris tapped out John said, “Seriously, congrats cuz. I see you’re in great shape, but we’re gonna do some insane workouts together before you head out to SF training.”

  “Yeah, that would be great Johnny. Thanks!”

  “Thanks? You’re the one doing me the favor. Now that I’m retired I’m already feeling soft,” he said winking at Macho.

  “Yeah, sure. I can tell, real soft. I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll set up a schedule,” Chris said as he and his dad went to get drinks.

  Even though John was having a great time he was still looking for Maria. He finally spotted her sitting on a lawn chair away from the main party talking with his Aunt Grasiella. He stood there watching them from a distance and realized his palms were moist and sweaty. He’d known Maria his whole life and she still made him nervous.

  Maria’s father was from Scotland and her mother was Filipino. She was the first girl he ever kissed and she was still the most beautiful girl he’d ever se
en. Her complexion was a creamy mocha, her long jet black hair flowed down her back, her Asian eyes were dark, soft and shining, her lips were full, and her body was simply ridiculous. More important than her good looks, Maria had a huge heart, and was “wicked smart.” She volunteered at the local Boys and Girls Clubs, had an MBA from Columbia, and was a Senior VP at JP Morgan.

  Grasiella and Maria saw him and waved franticly as he worked his way over. He picked up the aunt that raised him, his favorite person in the whole world and gave her a tight squeeze that made her giggle.

  Then he turned to Maria and gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek that was more formal than he meant it to be. After an awkward moment he decided it was time to speak and managed to croak out, “Huh, hi Maria.”

  “Wow! Really? That’s what you got for me? After you were done saving the world I dreamed you’d come charging in on a white horse and carry me away. Even without the horse I was expecting a lot more than a huh and a hi.”

  She pulled him close and gave him a long, lingering kiss that made Grasiella blush and smile with approval.

  Chapter 8

  The Evil That Men Do

  Union Square Park, Manhattan

  “Everything is ready, Amir. The men will not fail you, but you should not be here,” said Khalid Mulan.

  “I must be certain. There has already been one mistake, and the mistake was mine alone. Aziz will not tolerate another,” said Amir Khan, standing with Khalid next to their off-duty cab on the west side of the park.

  Amir couldn’t hide his tension and ignored Khalid’s disapproving stare. He wanted to be at the scene even though he knew his battered face was attracting unwanted attention. His smashed in nose had been poorly reset. It looked unnaturally crooked and both his eyes were swollen and black with green highlights around the edges. The dark sunglasses he wore did nothing to stop the sun’s rays from repeatedly stabbing him in the brain and he was still seeing spots from getting “sucker punched” during his night in jail.

  Amir still could not believe his own stupidity. He wound up in jail because he forgot his wallet and driver’s license at the safe house. He was heading here to the park to scout it out one last time and was focused on the mission instead of the road when he was pulled over for going through a red light. Just two days before the operation that he’d planned for years he gets arrested and then gets his nose broken.

  Right away he had known he was in big trouble and it only fueled his anger. He was angry at himself for getting arrested. He was angry that he lost his temper and spit at the soldier. More than anything he was angry for getting beat up. Amir also knew that if this mission did not go as planned he was a dead man. His organization was unforgiving and family or not, his uncle Aziz would have him eliminated.

  “You know, they will call on you to kill me if anything else goes wrong, Khalid.”

  “Amir, we have been friends since we were boys. You are my brother, and I will gladly give my own life to protect yours.”

  “Let us pray that Allah keeps us both alive. At least until our work here is done.”

  “Have faith my brother, and look around you. Allah has blessed us with good weather and the target is filled with infidels,” Khalid said, as they surveyed the park. They had picked Union Square because of the large crowds and light security. One of the few city centers without check points and security cameras, it’s a central hub for New Yorkers with eight subway entrances and six different subway lines that keep the park crowded with lots of through traffic.

  Busy year round, warm weather increases traffic tenfold, and every Saturday from spring through fall there is a bustling farmer’s market surrounding the park where they sell homemade pies and breads, grass fed beef, fish, fresh fruit, and locally-grown vegetables. Dozens of stalls are set up for the thousands of shoppers that pass through.

  This Saturday in June the sky was clear, the sun shone brightly, and the light, easy breeze made it one of those perfect summer days. The park and surrounding market were filled beyond capacity, people shopped to the island rhythms of a decent reggae band, and some talented teenage break dancers put on a show for the crowd.

  Amir looked on with indifference at the scene in front of him. He saw no beauty in the tall trees that shaded the benches where people were eating lunch and relaxing. The happy hum of children’s laughter from the large playground at the park’s north end did not touch him. The many families and women with strollers walking nearby meant nothing to him. These were his enemies, nothing more than moving targets.

  “Fucking Americans. I wonder how many we will kill today?”

  “Many Amir, many.”

  Amir and Khalid were both of the Pashtun tribe and grew up in small Afghan villages east of Kabul. Amir began fighting by his uncle’s side when he was a boy, first as a lookout climbing the high rocky bluffs and mountain peaks in search of the enemy, and later, given his own rifle, he became a deadly sniper. He shot his first man at age eleven and there were many more after that. Despite his bad temper and insatiable appetite for killing, his uncle Aziz had seen intelligence in him. Amir spoke seven languages including English and some broken French. A long term planner, Aziz ordered Amir to go to America, “to help destroy the enemy from the inside.”

  Given a false identity, he arrived in New York and for the past five years his uncle had been sending him men and money. He had also recruited his own soldiers and established cells throughout the city.

  Amir patiently planned for the day when they would strike and that day was today. Once this mission was completed three more massive strikes were to follow that would cripple the city and maybe even the entire country. His dream was to bring America to its knees. He wanted the world to know his name. He wanted the world to know that a poor mountain boy from Afghanistan destroyed the superpower that dared to invade his country.

  “Go now, Khalid.”

  “You’re not coming?”

  “Soon, soon. You go on ahead. I will meet you later to celebrate and prepare for the next attacks.”

  “As you wish, Amir, but don’t stay long. Everything you see, including the ground under your feet will be gone very shortly.”

  “God willing.”

  “It is God’s will that these devils all die today, my brother.”

  “I know it is Khalid. Go now and get the other teams ready.”

  As Khalid walked away Amir gazed upon the thousands of men, women and children all around him. He hated them all and wondered again how many they would kill today.

  Chapter 9

  Maria

  Queens, NY

  While Amir was thinking about murder John was thinking about love. He and Maria had talked for hours at his party the night before and once they got to her house in Queens there had been no pretenses. They both desperately wanted each other and clothes were coming off before the door closed.

  The sex had been violent at first. Fast, rough, and angry. Only after they had purged the pain of their past hurts did they slow their pace, becoming more tender and more passionate. Drenched in sweat, they gripped each other tightly as they came together. Afterwards, bathed in the warm light of the full moon, they lay staring into each other’s eyes, saying I love you without a word being spoken.

  John slept deeply and slept late for the first time in a very long time. He was still on a combat schedule and usually shot up an hour before dawn with his senses keen and alert. Today he woke up at nine with a lazy smile and Maria’s sparkling eyes on him.

  “I know you just got back and you just woke up so I’m not trying to put any pressure on you, but there’s something I need to say,” she said in a soft voice.

  John sat up and laced his fingers through hers, waiting for her to speak.

  “I’ve loved you my whole life, Johnny. I love you, and I’ve been waiting a long time for you. Waiting without any promises. Waiting without knowing if I’ve been waiting in vain. Worrying that you might get hurt again or even killed this time. Worrying that you might hav
e met someone else and come home married.” She paused, wiping away tears and trying to maintain her composure.

  “I love you, I want to marry you, and I want us to have lots of kids together before I’m too old to have them. Sooo… what’s it gonna be big guy?” she asked with a fearful smile.

  Looking back at their long love affair, all their breakups had been over stupid things. Although it seemed big and important at the time it was always something insignificant that tripped them up. They would argue over things that he couldn’t even remember now and a disagreement would escalate into a fight and the next thing he knew they were broken up. Before either of them could take back what had been said he would be on a plane heading into another war zone.

  In his heart John knew that he had been unfair to her. He’d been running from Maria and from himself for a long time. The death of his parents, accidentally killing the Yale student when he was eighteen, and Felix going to prison for his mistake had all haunted him. These were his demons and they had eaten him up and driven a wedge between them. Not anymore. Now he felt more at peace than he had ever been.

  Less than two months ago he had been talking and laughing with his buddy Sammy Mills in Kabul. John and Sammy had gone through Special Forces training together. They became fast friends and were both unofficially adopted and mentored by their CO Tommy Burke. They were separated when John was assigned to the 7th Special Forces Group that operated in Central and South America because of his fluent Spanish. But later, with all the action in the Middle East, he re-united with both Sammy and Tommy in Iraq and Afghanistan as part of 5th Special Forces.

  John and Sammy were sipping morning coffee at a small café in Kabul when a young kid on a bicycle rode up to them. They smiled and waved at him, not realizing the kid’s intentions. He raised an ancient, large caliber revolver, steadied it with both hands, and casually shot Sammy in the face. John killed the kid, who couldn’t have been more than thirteen, then bent down to check on Sammy. His lower jaw was gone, teeth and bone fragments were stuck in his throat. He held him tight, breathing into the gaping hole that used to be his mouth, waiting for the ambulance that never came. Sammy died in John’s arms, staring into the eyes of his best friend.