The Cartel Lawyer by Dave Daren (popular books to read .TXT) 📗

“I already texted him,” the soft voiced man answered. “He’s expecting us at his apartment.”

“Oh,” the beefy man in the seat next to me said. “Okay. I’ll have us there in about twenty minutes.”

Alvaro grunted and then lost himself in his thoughts as he stared out into the city that had sprung up around us. Ancient houses with dilapidated roofs and porches gave way to shopping centers. The outdoor malls became schools, tourist attractions, and skyscrapers.

A comfortable silence had filled the SUV as we made our way to Osvaldo’s apartment, and I tried not to let my mind run wild with possibilities. I had done well with the judge so I would likely leave our meeting intact, but the change in venue from our usual appointments set me on edge.

The beefy driver swerved across two lanes to take an exit and narrowly missed the front bumper of a white Ford Fiesta. He sped up to make a yellow light, and then he turned into the gateway for a high rise apartment building. He typed the gate code into the metal buttons, faced forward, and drove through as the arched metal in front of us swung inwards.

“Welcome to Osvaldo’s home,” Alvaro said as the driver parked in one of the spots near the front.

“Does he own the whole building?” I wondered while I leaned forward so I could take in the entire structure.

It was at least twenty stories high with balconies that jutted out from each of the three sides that I could see. The top of the building had a communications tower with a blinking red light to warn planes that the massive high rise had invaded their airspace.

“No,” the second in command said with his usual smirk as he opened his door and stepped out into the evening. “Just the top three floors.”

“The top three?” I muttered in wonder as I climbed out.

I glanced around to the other buildings around us, which were all high class high rises like the one in front of me, and I knew from searches on Zillow that even one of the condos cost millions of dollars.

“Let’s go,” Alvaro said as he strolled toward the large glass doors with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants.

“Right,” I said while I followed after the giant shadow man.

The second in command seemed even taller with the light of the building turning him into a silhouette. His broad shoulders added to his intimidating physique, and I was grateful that I still hadn’t learned how good he was with his switchblade.

Brilliant light bounced off of the pure white tile of the lobby and shimmered against the chandeliers that hung high above us every few feet. There was a white marble reception desk with a tired looking security guard behind it. The gray-haired man blinked at us as we neared, and then he smiled as Alvaro nodded.

“Good to see you this evening, Mr. Cruz,” the older man said. “Mr. Fuentes is already upstairs. He asked to see a Mr… Jipato? Yes, a Mr. Jipato, alone.”

“Sure,” the giant said with a one shoulder shrug with his hands still in his pockets. “I’ll take him up there, though. Are the guys here, too?”

“Yes, sir,” the security guard said after a yawn cracked open his face to show that he was missing one of his bottom molars. “They’re waiting for you.”

“Great,” Alvaro said while he pressed the button for the elevator.

I braced as the glass box slid down to the lobby. I had never been fond of elevators, one too many nightmares about them careening downwards, but there was no way that I could climb twenty flights of stairs and still manage to present myself to the cartel boss. So, I stepped inside the deathtrap and tried not to watch the ground as it fell further and further away.

“Am I going to the top floor?” I asked as I glanced at the two lit buttons, one for the highest floor, and one for the level just below it.

“You are,” the shadow giant responded. “When the elevator opens, you will go to the door on your left. Aron should be on duty, and he will let you in to see the boss.”

“Got it,” I said with a nod as the elevator reached Alvaro’s floor. “Well, have a good night.”

“You, too, Jipato,” the second in command said as he disembarked from the glass elevator.

I took a deep breath in to steady my nerves as the elevator doors closed and began to climb to the next floor. I hadn’t met with Osvaldo alone before. Alvaro had always been in the room like a silent warning that my life could be forfeit at any moment, and I couldn’t tell if his absence made me more or less worried about the outcome of my evening.

“Mr. Torres,” a short, dark-haired man with an impressive mustache said as I stepped out of the elevator.

He had on black slacks and dress shoes, but his long sleeve button-up was bright red with white palm tree branches at all angles. He came up to my chin, though his barrel chest and beefy shoulders were enough to make me glad he was smiling at me.

“Hello,” I said with a grin and a nod of my head. “You must be Aron. I’m here to see the boss.”

“Yep,” the muscular man replied as he took out a key to unlock the door. “Go on in. Last I heard, he’s out on the balcony.”

“Great,” I said. “Thanks for the help. Have a great night.”

I wasn’t sure what I expected Osvaldo’s home to look like, maybe pictures of Havana or gilded furniture, but as I walked inside I was greeted with sleek, modern furniture. There were blueprints for the warehouses and cargo ships suspended in frameless glass all along