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  Severo got up and poured more tequila into his glass. “The funny thing about money is that it’s only useful if you’re alive.”

  “I’m alive right now,” Lee said. “And I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. In fact, maybe I should just partner up with Francisco Carbajal since you seem to be a supplier without a proper supply.”

  Severo laughed. “I’ll have to make some calls and talk to my people. Those items are in high demand and there’s a limited supply coming through Mexico, especially in Michoacán.”

  “I don’t give a shit where it comes from. You can go to Afghanistan and get it if you have to. I just need you to get it to me, here, so I can sell it.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this? The Sinaloa Cartel is no joke.”

  “Are you implying that I can’t handle myself?” Lee asked. “I should be afraid of them instead of the other way around? Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

  “No offense. You’re hardcore and everything, but the Sinaloa cartel is in a totally different league. There’s no turning back if you go against them, or if you start working with them, for that matter.”

  “Can you get the stuff or should I take my business elsewhere?”

  Severo downed his drink and walked towards the door. “I’ll get back to you.”

  Chapter 9

  Castello del Re was a 10,000 square foot Mediterranean style luxury home in south San Jose. Lee Giordano dubbed it Castello del Re when he bought it years ago. It meant King’s Castle in Italian. Lee was the King, in his own mind, and he was determined to live like one.

  It was located in a gated community on fifteen acres of land, perched on top of a hill overlooking Silicon Valley. The estate had a small vineyard, fruit trees, a zen garden, and a massive backyard with a pool and jacuzzi for entertaining.

  In addition to the security provided for the entire gated community, Lee had his own security team stationed at the front of his long driveway. He had lots of money and enemies; those two things made Lee a prime target for ambitious young criminals. Although he did need the extra security, he really liked the attention he got when he was out in public with his executive protection team. People always stared at him and wondered who he was. Was he famous? Was he an actor? How rich was this guy? Lee loved to be the center of attention, not to mention it made it super-easy to attract women.

  Lee was eating lunch on the back patio with Jesus, his Director of Security. Jesus was an extremely violent person. They met each other in prison. Lee saw Jesus’s violent nature as a benefit that he could use as a member of his security team and Jesus saw Lee’s ambition as a way to make money when he got out of prison. It was a win-win situation for both of them. Jesus protected him on the inside and Lee hired Jesus as his Director of Security as soon as he got out of prison.

  Jesus did time in prison for manslaughter. He was accused of brutally murdering a married couple and dissolving their bodies in a barrel full of acid. The evidence was weak and it got even weaker when the two primary witnesses went missing a month before the trial. The prosecutor offered a deal and Jesus took it. He ended up spending four years in prison before being released on parole.

  Jesus’s radio buzzed. He picked it up and said, “Go ahead.” The security guard at the front gate let him know that Bruce was on his way up to the house.

  Bruce was a regular at Castello del Re and the guards knew him well. They didn’t need to call Lee or Jesus before letting him in, but they always announced his arrival.

  “What does he want?” Jesus asked Lee.

  “I don’t know,” Lee said. “He said he wanted to come over and talk.”

  “Did you hurt his feelings again?” Jesus laughed.

  Lee laughed too. “Don’t be an asshole. One of these times he’s gonna kick your ass when I’m not there to keep you two apart.”

  Jesus laughed at that too. “Come on? Bruce?”

  “You might be surprised. Dude knows how to fight. He studied that M.A.M. stuff. He won every fight he had.”

  Jesus looked confused. “You mean MMA, mixed martial arts?”

  Lee nodded as he shoved food into his mouth. “That’s it. MMA”

  Bruce walked out onto the back patio. “Morning.”

  Lee got up and gave Bruce a hug and kissed him on the cheek. It was a custom Lee retained from his Italian upbringing. “Sit, sit. Can I get you some brunch? Are you hungry?”

  “I’m good. What’s new with you?” Bruce asked.

  “Just having some food. You said you wanted to talk to me about something. What’s on your mind?

  Bruce pointed at Jesus. “Does she have to be here for this?”

  Jesus dropped his fork on the table. “Yeah, I think I’ll stay because I don’t trust you and I don’t like the way you look.”

  “That’s strange. I heard you preferred guys with long hair in prison. Is that not true?”

  Jesus had no patience for Bruce’s attitude and he had almost zero sense of humor.

  “Stop it already. Jesus, you two can’t get along for one fucking minute. Both of you sit the fuck down. Bruce, Jesus is my Director of Security. I tell him everything. He knows it all. I want him to be here to listen to this because otherwise, I’ll just have to tell him everything later anyway. Okay? Can you handle that?”

  “I don’t think he needs to be here for this conversation, but if you insist, that’s on you.”

  Lee looked at Jesus. “Jesus, keep your mouth shut. I want you to listen only. Don’t speak. I don’t want you two bickering at each other like an old married couple.”

  Jesus raised his hands in surrender.

  “Now, what’s going on? What do you have to tell me?” Lee loved the attention. He loved it when people came to him. It made him feel like the Godfather.

  “Old Goat is missing,” Bruce said. “We don’t know where he is. I talked to Green yesterday and he hasn’t heard from him since Thursday. His phone is off, Green has left messages, but he hasn’t called back. I talked to a couple other guys and no one has seen him.”

  “So, he didn’t deliver the money yesterday?”

  “Green made the delivery for him.”

  “Was all the money there?” Lee asked. “Anything missing?”

  Bruce shook his head. “It was all there. Nothing’s missing.”

  “So, what’s the problem? You think he got picked up by the cops? I mean, we would know about it if he got busted, right?”

  “Probably. I do have a couple contacts at the jail and Old Goat knows that the first thing he should do is ask for an attorney. So, even if the Feds picked him up, he would still make the call to my office. It also crossed my mind that maybe a local crew got him and I don’t know if they could pull information from him or they just wanted to hurt him, or kill him, or what. I don’t know what to think at this point. I just know it makes me nervous.”

  “Why don’t you track his phone? You can get his location that way, right?”

  Bruce shook his head. “His phone’s not on. I can’t get his location unless his phone is on.”

  “Green doesn’t have any ideas where he is?” Lee asked. “That’s his brother. If anyone knows where to find him, it’d be him.”

  “He thinks Old Goat just took a vacation, basically. Probably hooked up with some women, got some whiskey, and just checked out without telling anyone.”

  “That doesn’t sound right. How long have you known Old Goat? Has he ever just checked out without telling anyone?”

  “I can’t remember him doing anything like that and I’ve known him and Green for ten years now. He can be a little flaky, but this seems a bit extreme.”

  Lee stood up from the table and looked out at the valley below. “Something’s not right about this. If I had a brother, and he went missing, I’d be tearing shit apart trying to find him. Maybe Green is hiding something from you. He gave you some story about how he’s probably on vacation? Really? That makes no fucking sense.”

  “Green wouldn’t lie to me.
I know him.”

  “I can’t accept that,” Lee said. “This is my business and now it’s at risk because one of your guys is missing. He could be talking to our enemies. He could be talking to the DEA. He could be planning to destroy us.”

  “First of all, this is our business, not yours. Don’t forget that. Second, I trust Green. He would never screw me over. Third, we’re shutting things down anyway.”

  Lee walked over to Bruce and looked down at him. “I don’t believe Green. I want to talk to him myself. Set it up.”

  Lee walked into his house without saying another word. He had a flair for the dramatic. Jesus laughed as he slowly got up from the table and followed Lee into the house.

  Chapter 10

  Bruce and Green were lined up side by side on an empty patch of asphalt. Bruce was straddling one of his favorite motorcycles, a beautifully restored 1929 Harley-Davidson JDH. Green was on his custom Harley-Davidson Breakout. There was a crowd gathered around them. They both revved their engines. It was the annual Two Zero Five BBQ and Bruce and Green were about to race. The Two Zero Five BBQ was a big deal. It was strictly for Two Zero Five members and close associates. It was held at Christmas Hill Park in Gilroy, California, the same location where they held the popular Gilroy Garlic Festival every year.

  One of the Two Zero Five members stepped in front of Bruce and Green and raised his arms in the air. He counted down from three and then quickly dropped his arms. Bruce and Green were off. The finish line was only twenty-five yards away. This was a slow race. If you crossed the finish line first, you lost. If your foot touched the ground, you lost. If you went outside the designated path, you lost. The winner was the one who crossed the finish line last.

  Bruce was wobbling his way to the finish line while Green was maintaining a fairly straight line. Bruce was out in front of Green by a good four feet. He was going as slow as he could but Green was going slower. Bruce’s only hope was that Green would put his foot down or go outside the lines. Bruce crossed the finish line first and Green moved on to the next round. The winners would compete until there was one final champion, dubbed The Slowest Rider.

  The event was pretty tame compared to the parties the members threw at the Two Zero Five clubhouse. But this was first and foremost a charity event so they were expected to be on their best behavior. Charity runs were used to show the public that members of the Two Zero Five were generous, wholesome people. They weren’t a bunch of dangerous criminals, they helped those in need. They cared about the community. They wanted to do good things for others. At least that was the narrative they liked to push out to the public. To those who knew the truth, they were known as one of the most violent motorcycle clubs in existence.

  For this particular event, money was being raised for the Children’s Book Project, a nonprofit organization that collected and distributed books to children in need. Every member of the club paid $50 to participate in the run. The club itself donated $5,000.00 in cash to the Children’s Book Project. Curious people and wannabes bought Two Zero Five merchandise, hats, t-shirts, and bags, which also helped support the cause. It was a great photo opportunity and always came in handy for those members standing before a judge about to be sentenced.

  After the official charity event concluded, all the members of the Two Zero Five rode their motorcycles from the starting point in San Jose to Christmas Hill Park in Gilroy where the BBQ was just getting started. The BBQ itself had a variety of activities, including slow racing, live music, tug-of-war, and the always popular wet t-shirt contest. Since alcohol was involved, there were a few minor disagreements based on who was disrespecting who, but for the most part, it was an uneventful day.

  Bruce was talking to a couple of females and sipping on a beer. One of the girls put her hand on Bruce’s arm. “Why is it called Two Zero Five? What does Two Zero Five mean?”

  “Well, I’m not a member of the club,” Bruce said. “I’m just a lawyer that helps them out once in a while. But, I heard that the founder of the club lived at 205 Chicago Street in San Jose when he started the club. That’s why it’s called Two Zero Five.”

  Green walked over and interrupted the conversation.

  “He’s lying,” Green said. “That is the official version for the public, but it’s not the truth.”

  “Well then what’s the truth?” the girl asked.

  Green leaned in closer to the ladies and whispered. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

  The ladies laughed and Green waved both of the women away. “Okay, now go on. Get outta here. We gotta talk about important stuff.” The women obeyed. They knew Green was the President of the club and they were more than willing to do whatever he told them to do, no questions asked. That’s how it worked in motorcycle clubs.

  “You’re killing me, man,” Bruce said. “I was about to close the deal.”

  “Which one?”

  “Both.”

  Green laughed. “Come say hello to a couple of our new Prospects. I want them to know who you are.”

  Prospects were prospective members of the motorcycle club. A prospect had to be sponsored by a full member of the club and the prospect had to pass a probationary period before he could become a full member of the club. It wasn’t easy to become a member and that’s how the system was designed. They wanted to keep out everyone except those that wanted it bad enough. They wanted the men that were willing to do anything to become a member of the club. They had to demonstrate unwavering loyalty and obedience to become a member of the Two Zero Five.

  Bruce nodded. “New slaves, huh?”

  “Three new guys, but I only think one’s gonna make it. Come meet these guys, then you can go close your deal.” He slapped Bruce on the back.

  “Okay. I’ll meet these guys if you do me a favor.”

  “What do you need?” Green asked.

  “I need you to come by the Firehouse tomorrow at one o’clock.”

  “Yeah, of course I can do that. What’s up?”

  “Lee wants to talk to you about Old Goat. I told him what you told me, but he wants to hear it from you. He thinks you might be hiding something. I told him I trust you one hundred percent, but you know how he is.”

  Green smiled. “Yeah, I know how he is. Tell him I’ll be there and I’m looking forward to it.”

  “But here’s the actual favor - I need you to stay calm when you talk to Lee. I know you don’t like each other and I’m sure he’s gonna say some things that’ll piss you off, but I’m asking you to be the responsible grown up in the relationship. Do not let it get out of control. No violence. We have enough things to worry about. We don’t need you two going to war. I’m asking you to take the high road when you meet with him. Can you do that?”

  “I promise to do my best.” Green smiled. “But, you know, I do have a tendency to lose control when someone makes me angry. They don’t call me Green because it’s my favorite color.”

  Just down the road from Christmas Hill Park, Detective Wendell Hatchett and his partner, Detective Deebak, sat in an unmarked police vehicle. They were both members of the San Jose Police Department, Bureau of Investigations, Covert Response Unit. Their primary mission was to investigate major narcotics offenses. In other words, they hunted drug traffickers.

  Deebak looked through a pair of binoculars towards the Two Zero Five event.

  “Two, George, Adam, Tom, One, Two, Three,” Deebak said.

  Detective Hatchett wrote the license plate number down in his notebook.

  “It’s a blue Chevy Camaro,” Deebak said.

  “Got it. Is that the last one?”

  Deebak nodded his head. “That’s all I can see from here.”

  Hatchett started the car. “Let’s circle around one more time and head back to the station to process everything.”

  Chapter 11

  Bruce was upstairs at the Kennedy Firehouse updating a spreadsheet. As the drug business evolved, Bruce spent very little time on the day to day drug operations and spent a lo
t more time trying to track, hide, clean, and manage the millions of dollars in cash that they made every month. Having that much cash was a problem that needed constant attention. Legitimate businesses didn’t want cash. It was an inconvenience. Any cash purchase over $10,000.00 had to be reported to the IRS, which made it impossible to buy big-ticket items like cars, houses, or buildings.

  Bruce had tried everything over the years to launder the money but there was only so much he could do without raising red flags. There was always a trail. He hired outside attorneys to create corporations and limited liability companies. He used different attorneys and services as registered agents. He created a maze of businesses and accounts to confuse anyone who might dig deeper, but there was no way to launder millions of dollars fast without drawing unwanted attention. It took roughly three hundred separate deposits just to get two million dollars into a bank account. And they were bringing in more than two million dollars per week.

  Bruce had established over sixty different business accounts in all the different banks around the Bay Area. He used runners to make multiple deposits at different banks, several times per week. Even that was risky and also a very slow process. They just had too much cash coming in and the deposits had to be very small to avoid the cash deposit reporting requirement and to avoid suspicion under the structuring laws which made it illegal to deposit less than $10,000.00 cash with the intent to avoid the cash reporting requirements.

  Bruce opened the bottom drawer on his desk and turned the knob on another. He stood up from his chair and pushed a button on his smartphone. The top of his desk popped up and revealed a hidden storage area underneath. He took his laptop out and placed it into the hidden trap, then closed everything up and returned the drawers back to normal. He always left a MacBook Pro on top of his desk. That laptop was a decoy computer just in case the police ever searched his office. They wouldn’t find anything incriminating on that laptop and, hopefully, that would prevent them from looking any further.