CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
The black limousine drove slowly through the winding roads that lead to the docks on Lake Lewisville. During the early part of March, the initial convergence of the upcoming spring break crowd normally arrived in droves. Due to the extended stay of the winter temperatures, the number visitors at the lake decreased substantially.
Behind the wheel, Garcia's young but very dangerous henchman steered through the winding roads. Twenty-one year old Tyler Fowler was already haunted by more ghosts then the average cemetery. His blood line directly linked to John Wesley Hardin the infamous Texas gunfighter known as the meanest man who ever lived. Four generations later Tyler Fowler may not have been meaner, but was arguably just as murderous.
Even odder then Tyler's eerie connection to his great ancestor was the way in which he and Garcia became acquainted. Four years before, Garcia and his driver slash body guard, pulled up to the Hotel ZaZa in the uptown district section of Dallas. With Garcia seated in the back, the driver got out of the car to survey the area.
An infinite number of enemies dwelled in Garcia's line of work so caution was always exercised. Tyler, who worked as a bus boy in the hotel's restaurants, just happened to be standing by the curb eating a sandwich.
When the driver passed by Tyler, he shot him a look to intimidate the youngster. In turn, Tyler smirked at the much larger body guard. This caused the three hundred pound guard to turn and knock the food out of Tyler’s hand.
“What in the hell do you think you looking at you little punk!“ he said. His deep rough voice sounded like grinding gravel.
The guard then walked toward the car to open the rear door for Garcia. Garcia watched the events unfold from behind the dark tinted glass windows of the limo.
Out of nowhere came the eruption of deafening gunfire. Splatters of blood pelted the side of the limo. The three hundred pound body guard fell to the ground slapping his mass against the rigid concrete. The barrel of Tyler’s gun still pressed against the back of the bodyguard’s head.
Tyler calmly wiped the weapon off on the back of the dead man's coat then sat next to the body to finished eating his sandwich. Just two feet away, Tyler looked into the dark tinted glass. Although he could not see inside he knew someone was looking right back at him.
The kid sat as calm as ever with no apprehensions or concern of vengeance. He just sat admiring the car’s length and shiny black color. No fear.
Garcia lowered the rear window. Smoke from the passenger’s cigarette drifted out into the downtown Dallas air. Martin Garcia turned to the then sixteen year old with curious eyes. “Kid, you want a job?”
CHAPTER FIFTY
Most of Garcia’s inner circle called his hired gun kid or Tyler. For Garcia Tyler was always called by the same name, Fuse. The name sort of stuck through the years after Garcia would often remark, “Go get that short fuse to drive you. Or who lit the fuse this time?” The name eventually shortened to just Fuse. At just twenty-one years old, Tyler had become one of the least known but most dangerous men in America.
As he drove through the winding roads that lead to the lake, Garcia looked through the tinted windows. The scenic lake view never seemed to change. Just as he remembered, the still waters rested up against the green Texas banks.
Homes scattered along in extended distances separated by acres of privacy. Across the center of the lake a bridge containing highway 35 reached across carrying commuters between Oklahoma and Texas. The location served Garcia well by remaining the same timeless private sanctuary.
Rounding the last turn Garcia spotted Bo leaning against the wood railing. Bo’s weight placed a significant amount of stress on the aged boards causing them to bow inwards. As another of Garcia’s guards, Bo was the number one connection in Dallas. Whenever Garcia and the Fuse were away on business, Bo was in charge.
Handling Garcia’s less then sanitary work from time to time was just one of Bo's jobs. He lived in a trailer home located in a small addition next to the lake. This gave him instant access to attend to his other main duty of taking care of Garcia’s Carver 47 motor yacht which remained docked at Lake Lewisville. Bo navigated the vessel for Garcia whenever he was in town.
The menacing outer appearance of Bo appealed to Garcia while scaring others. Bo stood no more then 5’10” but was much larger then Garcia with rugged features. His more then serious expressions made him appear unapproachable, which was not totally inaccurate. The mere presence of Bo pre-emptied would be challengers who didn’t know that Garcia was not one to be tested.
The lake had a way of relaxing Garcia but no matter what thoughts ran through Garcia‘s head, reflection of Mike were not far behind. During the entire flight from Moscow plans and backup plans were mentally devised. The successful trip to Moscow as well as the tournament was great, but his next plan involving Michael Andrews would trump everything. On the yacht he could relax while sorting out the minor details.
Bo opened the rear door for his employer. The two men rarely spoke more then a few words to one another since this had always been strictly a working relationship. Words were not needed, only text messages and jesters were their major form of communication which always worked well for the pair. Men were ordered to be murdered in the same manner as ordering lunch by just placing a simple nod.
The routine at the lake did not vary. Garcia walked briskly to the boat with Bo trailing close behind. As far as the outside world was concerned neither of the men were ever actually there. This was Garcia’s private location unknown by most including some of his small inner circle.
After Garcia stepped on to the yacht then sat in his favorite recliner. Bo started the engines and began to circle the enormous lake.
After they moved out of the reach of prying eyes Garcia would take a spot along the side of Bo on the command bridge. Unless his boss wanted to command the controls, Bo took the wheel and guided the boat around for as long as Garcia wished to cruise. The lake view from the upper deck appeared as scenic perfection.
Surrounded by pure white surfaces and polished aluminum, the upper deck was one of the many elegant locations on the boat. The lake itself never failed to present an exquisite view.
Once he absorbed the view Garcia took the four steps down to the next level and made a small drink at the wet bar. After that he entered his favorite part of the yacht. Through the salon styled entrance door, he walked down into the lounge.
He switched the main light to bring the main cabin to life. The plush interior influenced him to purchase this particular vessel over all the others. Halogen lights shined down in the living area revealing the polished surfaces of the solid cherry wood. Tan leather covered the couch and two cushioned chairs. A fifteen inch flat screen hung on one wall which was just to the right of the door leading into the separate bedroom.
Inside the bedroom the island like oval mattress set high surrounded by more solid cherry wood walls, night stands, and storage cabinets. Soft halogen lights glowed from overhead and another flat screen hung on an adjacent wall above a small desk area. Garcia’s guarded sanctuary allowed him to relax and reflect on the world around him.
The yacht pulled away from the docks then leaned slightly as it made its way deeper into the large lake. Garcia placed Mike’s cell phone on the cherry wood table located between the two large reclining chairs. He sat in one of the recliners and stared into the clear liquid of the freshly made cocktail stirring his drink thoughtfully.
He turned his head over toward the cell phone once more. Time to fine tune the master plan, he thought. Michael Andrews would be more then just eliminated, he would be destroyed. Broken down and torn into the depths of obscurity.
Here I come Michael Andrews, here I come.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Michael Andrews’ time on earth ticked away weather he knew it or not. He would be taken care of but it was not an immediate rush for that, at least not for now. Time remained on Garcia’s side, like an added level of security, an
ally. Michael would have to ponder how much time was left or not left not him. Under the umbrella of time, the attack could emerge at any period under his personal timed discretion.
He leaned back allowing the soft cushions of the soft leather to engulf him. Time for a fast drink and a slow decision had arrived. A rare smile crept across his face as he lifted the remote and turned on the stereo.
The CD already set to play was Harry Connick Jr., big band smooth. The yacht’s large engines hummed pushing the outsized vessel across the lake. Relaxed and content, the smile on Garcia’s face widened. Just like all of his targets, the poor bastard will have no idea what was coming at him.
The soft big band music combined with the gentle bouncing of the yacht took Garcia’s mind to a peaceful place. Other elements also soothed him. Maybe it came from the scent of the lake waters or the hint of Chanel No. 5 perfume that remained on the chair from a time before.
He turned his head to get a better grasp of the scent. It was without a doubt the Chanel. It lingered in a faint presence but remained etched in Garcia’s memory.
Although the waters may have assisted the fragrance in his recall, the perfume was unmistakable. The only person who always took Garcia’s guard down never strayed fr from his thoughts. She was there before he became the person he is today. All defenses went down around her because she knew him better then anyone. She wore the Chanel on all of their special occasions and it stirred up the fondest memories in Garcia’s head.
He allowed the memories to inhabit his head. He preasense felt alive as if she was there. He recalled the first time he laid eyes on Anna Souza as she walked with a shopping bag along the boardwalk on the oasis of the sea cruise ship.
She stood out like a runway model all alone on a catwalk. Men stumbled as she passed by making her way toward the ship’s famed aqua theater. Garcia left the woman he was talking to and followed, since like the rest she felt drawn to her beauty.
Her light tan Brazilian features set against a flawless completion. Her grey cat like eyes had bedroom appeal. Although she was stunning she also had a very open and sociably approachable look. Her inviting smile hinted at sexiness without a true awareness of her own raw magnetism. She swayed along with a black bikini top and multicolored wrap around her waist.
Garcia approached her feeling the immediate chemistry.
“You truly stand out in the crowd you know,” he said.
“Do I really?” she blushed.
“Indeed you do. You have a unique beauty that most would consider unapproachable.”
“But you approached me,” she smiled.
“Yes but I’m not most. I never have taken to living life wondering if,” he said.
“If?”
“Correct, like getting back home and wondering if there was any chemistry between us.”
“And?”
“Like hydrazine and nitric acid,” he smiled.
She gave Garcia an impressive nod. “So you are saying that our chemistry is explosive.”
“Extremely,” Garcia winked.
When he saw her blush, he knew that he was in, and didn’t let up on the charm. In the end he accompanied her to the theater for an impromptu first date.
Later during a walk around the ship Garcia found that her conversation was as attractive as her outer beauty. They debated on the likes of Kahlil Gibran and the sanctity of Sigmund Freud. He found her company to be nothing less tehn addictive.
Form the very start Garcia felt nothing but good vibes from their union. In his mind destiny pushed their paths together. The explosive chemistry ignited a timeless love affair that never ended from that very day.
Although for different reasons, they were in the same place at the same time. She sailed on the cruise with her mother and father who at the time was the CEO of the Central Brazil Investment Group. The group celebrated the acquisition of a casino located in Rio de Janeiro. Garcia’s invitation stemmed from his link as a new partner of her father’s Dallas, Texas restaurant company.
Anna’s Father, Mario Souza owned the Texas de Brazil restaurant. So while she took the cruise as a member of the family, Garcia was more like an unofficial adopted member of the Souza’s.
In the beginning Garcia had an employee relationship with her father’s by simply working at one of his Dallas restaurants. Later his responsibilities grew as Garcia became considered part of the family. Soon Garcia became a favorite of Mario’s and when the powerful business owner made frequent trips to Dallas, he took the opportunity to teach Garcia the business.
Over time Mario took their business relationship a step further. He allowed Garcia to become a full partner with him when he opened several more restaurants. Mario did the majority of his work from his office in South America and allowed Garcia to run the day to day operations in North American businesses.
Garcia felt a certain degree of comfort in being in charge as if he was born to be a leader. In a very short time Garcia felt comfortable enough to initiate a few less then civil side businesses that were kept away from Mario.
The cruise, by sheer coincidence, introduced Garcia to the only part of the family that he had knew of but never met. Mario’s well protected daughter finally met Garcia on the cruise ship. Once Garcia put together the fact that she was the daughter of Mario Souza, he insisted on keeping their union a secret.
The love affair between the two lasted through the years without ever losing its temperature, or as they often joked, it’s explosive nature. Seven years after they first met, the union also remained known only to everyone except a very select few.
When Garcia and Anna met, she was just eighteen and he was a very seasoned twenty-three year old man. Since that time, like most lives tend to do, their directions changed drastically. Anna attended law school at SMU and Garcia was far more notorious and even more seasoned.
Along with the distance and schedules, their time together proved to be difficult; the desire however, remained intact.
Garcia set up in his chair. He thought about Anna in a distinct effort to not think about anything else.
All work and no play dictated a dull existence. He smiled at the thought since Garcia was a notorious workaholic. For him the extreme work level was never an issue. Even with the constant work schedule life remained a non-stop party. He had been called many things over his lifetime but one thing that he had never been called, was dull.
He placed a call to his driver. “Pick her up and bring her to the docks.” No other information needed because Tyler knew whom he was referring to and exactly where to find her at anytime. Among other things, that was his job.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
The constant motions of the lake rocked the boat with gentle motions. Garcia drifted off into a light sleep after the comfortable surroundings got the best of him. Just before approaching the primary stages of REM sleep he was pulled away from a solid slumber.
The distraction came from the outside stimulation that his senses found pleasantly familiar. The sweet scent caused his nostrils to flare. The motors of the boat revved up high to signal Garcia that the boat had been stationary but was about to circle the lake.
Heeled footsteps descended the staircase. He lifted his heavy eyelids just as she made her way across the final steps. Her gray eyes glowed appearing like almonds in the soft lighting. She pouted with her full red lips reacting to the inability to maintain her balance on the tittering yacht.
Garcia woke up to the sweetest vision he had ever witnessed. Behind her, the full moon glowed giving her the virtuous appearance that mirrored her inner beauty. Anna blossomed from the eighteen year old that he met so long ago on that faithful cruise.
She stood at the bottom of the stairs blinking her eyes repeatedly to adjust them to the dark. Her cold black hair shined as it danced against her olive skin. When he last saw her, she wore the natural curls he was accustomed to seeing in her always perfectly styled hair. Now her straight hair hung past her shoulders reaching the
top of her perky breast.
The mature Anna grew much wiser to the ways of the world. Even her clothes reflected the growth. She replaced her once tight fitted polo shirts with a crisp white blouse. Instead of jeans, now she wore a form fitting black mini skirt that bowed across her curved hips. The cute beautiful girl he first met now became a stunning woman.
Anna lifted her hand above her eyes, “Honey, are you hiding over there?” she said.
“Hello beautiful,” he said.
“Heeey!!! Wow it has been a while. I thought you forgot all about me.”
“Never Anna never, you know that.”
Anna walked over to Garcia. Her six inch heels allowed her to get almost face to face with him. She draped her arms across his shoulders and toyed with the back of his hair. After taking a moment to gaze into his eyes, she placed a soft kiss on his neck then again on the side of his face.
“You can’t forget me Martin, because I’m never going away,” she said. Anna then gave Garcia a adoring kiss that made him wonder how he was able to stay away so long.
Anna pulled away. “Ok time for a toast. I’ll make the drinks.”
She walked over to the galley and found a XR red box of crown royal reserve. She picked up the bottle then presented to Garcia as I she was posing with it in some kind of liquor commercial. “Well well, this is a limited item. Were you saving it for someone special?”
Garcia lit his cigarette and smiled, “Sure, she is as special as they get.”
“I’m assuming that is me, so I’m going to open it,” she said.
“Mi casa es su casa.”
“¿Entonces su yate es mi yate también?” she said jokingly.
“Yes my love, my yacht is your yacht also,” he said.
Anna’s smile faded. “You are serious aren’t you?”
“Always.”
They had been around one another so long that he could almost read her thoughts. She wanted to press the issue of their relationship, she always did. He expected for her to ask when they could make the relationship official.