Geraldo Segura was a man of his word. As soon as the cops were gone and the money had been wired to his account, he left Princeton Wells unharmed and in perfect health, except for the damage the expensive booze was doing to the man’s liver.
He took a cab to JFK, and despite the fact that he was a millionaire a hundred times over, he had opted for a coach seat on Emirates to Adelaide, Australia, for $1,160. A first-class ticket with its own private cabin would only have cost another $23,000, but his logic was simple. Nobody pays attention to the people in the cheap seats.
He breezed through airport security with his new identity, and now at thirty-nine thousand feet he sat back in seat 58A, comfortably lost in the pack of 398 other economy passengers on the Airbus A380.
His mind flashed back to the start of his long day: a predawn visit to the Karayib Makèt in Brooklyn. The thugs at the door, all of whom towered over him, had no idea that he could have incapacitated them all. Two of them grabbed him, one on each arm, and asked what he wanted.
“I’m here to talk to Dingo Slide,” he said.
“Dingo is resting with his ancestors,” one of the goons said.
“Then who’s in charge of this shit operation?” Segura demanded. “You fuckers owe me money.”
The man drove a fist into his stomach. Segura doubled over and gasped for breath. But it was all an act. He had pulled back just before the moment of contact. Why let his attacker know he had abs of steel, and that nothing short of a kick to the gut from a mule could have brought him down?
They dragged him to the rear of the store, through a cold room, until he was face-to-face with the one man he had come to meet.
“My name is Geraldo Segura,” he said defiantly.
“So…the martyr has returned to seek revenge,” the leader of the Haitian cartel said. “I am Malique La Grande. I’ve been reading about your impressive accomplishments. Were you planning on killing me as well?”
“No. I’m here for compensation.”
La Grande laughed out loud, and the others joined in. He waved his hand, and his men released their grip on their captive. “Prison has damaged your thinking,” La Grande said. “Why would you think we owe you money?”
“Because it’s the honorable thing to do. If Dingo Slide were here, he would agree. But I guess the Zoe Pound code of honor has deteriorated under new management.”
“I know you’re a fighter,” La Grande said, taking a gun from his waistband. “This is how I win fights. Talk to me about honor.”
“I was a kid. Zoe Pound drugs were planted on me. The least you can do is pay me for doing twenty years for your crime.”
“So you lost twenty years,” La Grande said. “I lost four kilos of heroin. We all pay a price.”
“Bullshit!” Segura said, digging a hand into his jacket pocket.
The men at his side grabbed him and forced him to the ground.
“Emmanuel, you let him in here with a gun?” La Grande bellowed.
“No, boss. No, no,” the guard said. “I searched him.”
“What’s in his pocket?”
One guard pulled Segura to his feet while Emmanuel dug a hand into the jacket pocket. “This is all, boss,” he said, holding up a fistful of paper.
“And what is that?” La Grande said.
“My release papers from Klong Prem Central Prison,” Segura said. “It’s proof that you’re lying to me.”
La Grande tucked the gun back into his waistband and beckoned Emmanuel to bring him the papers. He read them carefully. Then he read them a second time, balled them up, hurled the papers to the floor, and erupted in a barrage of Haitian Creole.
Those who understood him looked shocked, angered.
Segura stood his ground. “English,” he said calmly.
“Your papers say you were arrested for trying to smuggle a kilo of heroin out of Thailand,” La Grande said. “What about the other three kilos?”
“What other three kilos? Your rich white mules planted the drugs in my bag. One kilo is all it took to put me in that hellhole for fifty years. I got out in twenty, no thanks to them. That’s why I’m back. I killed two, ruined one for life, and by tomorrow morning, Princeton Wells’s body will be in bits and pieces all over his bedroom. My grudge isn’t against Zoe Pound, but the least you can do is pay me—”
“Where are the other three kilos?” La Grande said in a whisper that was far more menacing than a shout. “Where…are…the other…three kilos?”
“I don’t know,” Segura said. “Why don’t you ask your partner, Mr. Wells?”
“Dingo asked him twenty years ago. Wells swore up and down that you were arrested with all four kilos.”
“The paperwork states that the Thai government confiscated one kilo. Wells flies back home on his private jet and says, ‘Sorry, Dingo. They took it all.’ Who do you believe, Mr. La Grande?”
“I knew Wells was lying,” La Grande said. “I wanted them all dead, but I was only a lieutenant. Dingo didn’t have the balls to kill them. They bought us off with a quarter of a million dollars.”
“Three kilos for a quarter million?” Segura said. “They cut it, sold it, and made a million dollars at your expense…and mine.”
“Zoe Pound owes you nothing,” La Grande said. “But I will give you a hundred large to walk away from all this.”
“Why would you give me a nickel if you think you owe me nothing?”
“Because you’re going to do me a favor.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t kill Wells,” La Grande said.
“I have to,” Segura said. “I’ve waited too long.”
“You’ve got your revenge. Save a little for me, and I’ll sweeten the deal by another fifty thousand.”
Segura pondered the offer, then nodded slowly. “I accept,” he said. “I can leave the country tonight. Don’t do anything till I’m gone.”
“Agreed,” La Grande said.
“Once I leave I can never come back,” Segura said. “So promise me you won’t change your mind.”
“Have no fear, Rom Ran Sura,” La Grande said. “I am not my predecessor.”
Segura left the market at five in the morning, his backpack stuffed with hundred-dollar bills. Then he went back to the hotel on Sumner Place, slept until noon, checked out, and made a surprise visit to his grandmother and his aunts to deliver the one hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
The next three hours were a chaotic hodgepodge of joy, tears, hallelujahs, and Guatemalan food. Before he left, he told his abuela and his tias that there would be no more money coming from his former school friends. From now on, he would send whatever they needed, including tickets to visit him and his family once they’d settled in.
By four thirty, he was on Central Park West, watching Carlotta lock the front door to the Wells mansion. And now he was flying across the Atlantic to his new life with Jam and the kids. First stop: Dubai, and then another twelve-hour flight, to Adelaide. He’d never been there, but after years of hearing Flynn Samuels talk about his hometown, Segura decided it was the best place in the world for a fresh start.
He closed his eyes, and just as he had done every night on a cold prison floor, he said a silent prayer asking God to help him forget the past and dream about the future.
And for the first time in twenty years, he fell asleep knowing his prayers would be answered.