Read Online The Cartel by A. K. Alexander - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: A. K. Alexander
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taken Cuba away from the Mafioso, but Antonio was a bit shocked. He hadn't realized the extent of its success. There was evidence all around that this city was fast becoming a haven for the wealthy and the high-stake gamblers alike.
A courteous gentleman from the front desk escorted Antonio to the Presidential Suite. "Is everything to your satisfaction, sir?”
"Yes." A mirrored ceiling reflected an enormous round bed covered in black velvet. There was a built-in hot tub in the center of the room.
"Is there anything I can get for you, Mr. Espinoza?" the man asked.
"No, I think that will be all," Antonio replied, tipping him.
"Thank you, sir. Mr. Levine will see you and Mr. Rodriguez in the private dining room at seven. Is that time suitable to you?”
Antonio nodded, hoping that Javier had hired a nanny by this time. Calling the desk, he was put through to Javier's room.
Javier’s tired voice answered the phone. "Hello?"
"What do you think you're doing, bringing Isabella down here while we’re about to deal with Simon Levine? Where in hell did you leave your senses?"
"Leave my daughter out of this. She goes with me no matter what, no matter where. I brought a nurse along to be with her when I can't. She is my daughter, my responsibility. I expect you to understand that. And if you and the hardball playing Jew don’t like it, then you can both go fuck yourselves."
Antonio was taken aback by the vehemence of Javier's outburst. Never in his life had he been spoken to like that—and certainly not by Javier. For a moment, Antonio wanted to shake some sense into his head. Instead of retorting, he calmed down and replied, "Fine. Be in the dining room at seven—alone." Antonio hung up the phone with a newfound respect for his partner and friend.
*****
Simon Levine was a small man, but his mere presence commanded respect. Although his gnarled features and razor-thin body gave him the appearance of fragility, his gravelly voice boomed when he spoke, causing all within his range to stop what they were doing and pay attention. Antonio couldn't guess his age, perhaps sixty, maybe even seventy. His salt and pepper gray hair receded behind his ears, with only a marginal tuft left at the very center. His narrow eyes didn't reveal much—a skill that Antonio figured Levine had learned from years of experience in this dangerous business. He offered his hand to Antonio, who found to his surprise that the man’s seeming weakness was only a facade. The stoop shouldered man had a strong grip.
"Please sit down, gentlemen." Levine motioned to the table inside the elaborate dining room, aglow with candlelight. "I'm pleased you could both make it here. I hope your flights were pleasant and that everything is to your liking.” He poured each of them a glass of expensive French wine. "This is my finest," he said, taking a sip and sending the waiter away with a flip of the hand.
Antonio glanced over at Javier, who hadn't cracked a smile and obviously wasn't in the mood for congeniality. Antonio nudged him with his knee underneath the table, and Javier brought himself to the proceedings with reluctance. He smiled on cue and drank his wine. The formalities dispensed with, Antonio viewed this as an appropriate time to approach the subject of their presence there.
"Mr. Levine, you did not ask us here to drink your wine and to lounge in the luxury of your hotel."
"Call me Simon, as I will surely call you Antonio. You are right. I have not called you here for these things. However, I do enjoy seeing to your comfort, and I want you to feel free to ask for whatever you like while you are here in the Bahamas. Do so at my expense, please." He smiled at Antonio and Javier, flashing the brilliance of a gold cap on one tooth. "Allow me to explain to you why I have invited you here. I think I can do as much for you gentlemen as you can for me. You've been running illegal immigrants
A courteous gentleman from the front desk escorted Antonio to the Presidential Suite. "Is everything to your satisfaction, sir?”
"Yes." A mirrored ceiling reflected an enormous round bed covered in black velvet. There was a built-in hot tub in the center of the room.
"Is there anything I can get for you, Mr. Espinoza?" the man asked.
"No, I think that will be all," Antonio replied, tipping him.
"Thank you, sir. Mr. Levine will see you and Mr. Rodriguez in the private dining room at seven. Is that time suitable to you?”
Antonio nodded, hoping that Javier had hired a nanny by this time. Calling the desk, he was put through to Javier's room.
Javier’s tired voice answered the phone. "Hello?"
"What do you think you're doing, bringing Isabella down here while we’re about to deal with Simon Levine? Where in hell did you leave your senses?"
"Leave my daughter out of this. She goes with me no matter what, no matter where. I brought a nurse along to be with her when I can't. She is my daughter, my responsibility. I expect you to understand that. And if you and the hardball playing Jew don’t like it, then you can both go fuck yourselves."
Antonio was taken aback by the vehemence of Javier's outburst. Never in his life had he been spoken to like that—and certainly not by Javier. For a moment, Antonio wanted to shake some sense into his head. Instead of retorting, he calmed down and replied, "Fine. Be in the dining room at seven—alone." Antonio hung up the phone with a newfound respect for his partner and friend.
*****
Simon Levine was a small man, but his mere presence commanded respect. Although his gnarled features and razor-thin body gave him the appearance of fragility, his gravelly voice boomed when he spoke, causing all within his range to stop what they were doing and pay attention. Antonio couldn't guess his age, perhaps sixty, maybe even seventy. His salt and pepper gray hair receded behind his ears, with only a marginal tuft left at the very center. His narrow eyes didn't reveal much—a skill that Antonio figured Levine had learned from years of experience in this dangerous business. He offered his hand to Antonio, who found to his surprise that the man’s seeming weakness was only a facade. The stoop shouldered man had a strong grip.
"Please sit down, gentlemen." Levine motioned to the table inside the elaborate dining room, aglow with candlelight. "I'm pleased you could both make it here. I hope your flights were pleasant and that everything is to your liking.” He poured each of them a glass of expensive French wine. "This is my finest," he said, taking a sip and sending the waiter away with a flip of the hand.
Antonio glanced over at Javier, who hadn't cracked a smile and obviously wasn't in the mood for congeniality. Antonio nudged him with his knee underneath the table, and Javier brought himself to the proceedings with reluctance. He smiled on cue and drank his wine. The formalities dispensed with, Antonio viewed this as an appropriate time to approach the subject of their presence there.
"Mr. Levine, you did not ask us here to drink your wine and to lounge in the luxury of your hotel."
"Call me Simon, as I will surely call you Antonio. You are right. I have not called you here for these things. However, I do enjoy seeing to your comfort, and I want you to feel free to ask for whatever you like while you are here in the Bahamas. Do so at my expense, please." He smiled at Antonio and Javier, flashing the brilliance of a gold cap on one tooth. "Allow me to explain to you why I have invited you here. I think I can do as much for you gentlemen as you can for me. You've been running illegal immigrants
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