Keep The Car Running - Part 10
Part 9
"Well well," Agent Blackinton said when Gabe wandered back to the apartment complex about fifteen minutes later. "We thought you had run off in your girlfriend's fancy Mustang never to be seen again."
"Please," Gabe said, sticking his hands in his pockets. He looked around to see the police helping out the girls, whether it be wrapping them in blankets and offering them water or working on busting the locks they hadn't gotten around to when they heard the sirens. "I'm not cruel enough to leave you guys hanging. Glad to see that Chris, Darren and Fran found you in time."
"Like real suburban commandos," Suarez said. "But at least they didn't approach us the way you did with the flash drive."
"Alright alright," Gabe said holding his hands out. "I could have done better on that, but at least you guys are here now and get the satisfaction of busting open one of the largest prostitution rings in the Southeast and getting away from me all in one night."
Suddenly, Gabe's phone began to ring. He yanked it out of his pocket to see Pete's number flashing across the screen. He held a finger up to the two agents as he walked away from the police noise. "Excuse me, you two. I need to take this."
He hit the answer button and put on his best fake concern. "Pete, man, is everything alright? I drove by the place and there are cops everywhere!"
"You don't think I know that, Alexander," Pete said through gritted teeth. "It's all over the police scanners. And between this and my money being stolen, I'm really starting to think it was either you or Patrick."
"Me? Please," Gabe said, sounding innocent. "I told you, I didn't even know where you kept your money and I only saw the place five minutes ago! Besides, why does it have to be me or Patrick? It could be somebody else. Could have been Ryan or Jon..."
"I don't care if you said the place was your childhood home," Pete said angrily, "I'm starting to regret ever letting you into my fold. Now you get your ass to Haveli in an hour. I'm going to find out who sold me out. Or I just might assume it was both of you and kill you both. Hope you can convince me otherwise."
Pete hung up and Gabe was left staring at his phone for a few seconds in shock.
It's never a good thing when somebody snaps. Especially when someone's life hangs in the balance. Even if that someone is the scumbag's number two...
"Hey guys," Gabe said, turning back to Suarez and Blackinton. "You feel like taking out the ringleader tonight as well?"
------------------
Gabe was getting tired of seeing this garage. He'd would have rather been back at the house, helping Greta with Victoria, but at least he wouldn't have to see it anymore after tonight.
He sat in the backseat of Butch's car, looking out for anyone who might be coming in. It was mostly empty though. "C'mon Pete and Patrick, hurry your asses up."
Butch was in the driver's seat, glasses on and reading a book. He was trying his best to look nondescript for whenever the two showed up. "Maybe they're running late?"
"Patrick maybe," Gabe said, peeking his head between the two front seats. "I'm pretty sure he is completely aware that he might meet his end tonight. I wouldn't be rushing either. Pete, however, is scarily precise. He may be a cocky asshole who honestly thought he wouldn't get caught, but he runs his business like a ship."
"I still can't believe you're not even going in there for this," Butch said, looking down at the page.
"It's not about me," Gabe muttered, "It's best if they think I skipped town."
Butch craned his neck to look at Gabe. "Oh, I know that. I just sort of wish I could see what's going to happen, even if it was a vicarious experience. Just for shits and giggles."
"You're such a sadist."
"No, I think I'm just addicted to trainwrecks and people getting theirs in violent ways."
Suddenly a car Gabe recognized as Patrick's pulled into the garage. Gabe ducked in the backseat as the car drove past them and came to a stop a few yards away. "Is that Patrick for sure?"
"Patrick was the sort of skinny blonde one who looked annoyed with Pete all the time, right?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah, it's him."
Gabe peeked up a little to see a very worried looking Patrick walk past them and out of the garage. A few minutes later, a Mercedes sped into the garage and Pete stormed out of it as soon as he came to a stop. Gabe kept himself hidden in the backseat as he stalked by the car and out of the garage. "Is he out?"
Butch stayed silent for a few seconds as he watched Pete over the edge of his book. He then slammed it shut and looked down at Gabe. "Yeah, he's gone."
"Call it," Gabe said quickly as he sat up. "Then let's get out of here."
Butch nodded and pulled out his phone. He dialed as Gabe opened the passenger side door to crawl out of the backseat. "Hey, uhh, I really wasn't sure who to call, but I was walking back to the Westin when I heard some pretty loud screaming coming out of this restaurant... Haveli, I think? It just worries me and I think someone might get hurt..."
---------------------
The door of the restaurant slammed shut as Pete stormed in. "Patrick, where are you?!"
"Over here, asshole," Patrick said with a roll of his eyes as he stood up from where he usually sat. "Did you suddenly forget where we sit three nights a week?"
"Don't patronize me," Pete said, getting closer to Patrick. "Where's Alexander?"
Patrick had to laugh at that. "Oh, you're getting onto me about being patronized? Peter, all you've done for the past four years is patronize and belittle me. And then suddenly, some guy walks right through that door asking to work with you and you're treating him like the second coming of Christ!"
"I asked where Alexander was," Pete said sternly, ignoring Patrick entirely.
"I don't know where your new boyfriend is," Patrick said sarcastically. "I'm not his keeper. He probably skipped town for all we know."
Pete growled under his breath. "Well, then who did it?"
"Did what?"
"You know what I mean, Patrick. Who sold me out? Who gave away the location of my money and my girls?"
"If you use the word 'me' one more time, I'm going to chuck you out that window."
Pete grabbed a hold of Patrick's collar, his face turning red with seething anger. "You were the only one who knew where both locations were. For all I know, you used Alexander to work against me."
"What?!"
Patrick pushed him off and onto the floor. "Pete, I kept all your secrets for the past four years. I can name off all your bank account numbers off the top of my head as well as everyone on your payroll and all your random little storage spaces. I told no one else all this shit and what did you do for me? Jack. You kicked me around and treated me like your little gopher. And suddenly, you let in a guy with no background into your fold? If anything, Alexander made me realize how much of a shitty business you run. God, I could have sold you out years ago if I wanted to. This perfect shitstorm is not my doing, but I sort of wish it was!"
Pete scrambled up from the floor. "You ungrateful son of a bitch!"
Before Patrick could say anything else, Pete threw a right hook to his jaw. Patrick's head jerked to the side and he could feel blood coming out from where he bit down on his tongue. He stood on unstable feet, but Patrick quickly retaliated with a punch to the nose and a kick to the shins. Pete then jumped onto Patrick, knocking him to the floor and attempting to strangle him, but Patrick kicked him off and quickly started towards the door.
That's when he heard the click.
He turned to see Pete sitting up from where he landed with his gun aimed at Patrick. "Don't move. You move for that door, I shoot your fucking head off."
Suddenly, the sound of sirens started to gather outside the restaurant. Patrick looked out the window to see several police cars coming to a stop in the street. He then looked back at Pete with an uneasy look. "I'm going to take my chances out there."
He then rushed towards the door. Pete pulled the trigger twice, but only hit the glass of the door as Patrick ran out. Pete scrambled up from his spot on the floor and rushed out after him. "Come back, you bastard! I'm not done with you!"
Pete didn't get very far out the door before he was tackled and forced onto the ground by three police officers. He could see that Patrick was suffering the same fate about three yards away from him. Suddenly, two pairs of shined dress shoes were in his face. He looked up to see two very tall men in suits looking down at him.
The one on the right with dark hair and blue eyes flashed his badge at Pete. "Mr. Wentz, I'm Agent Blackinton. This is my partner Agent Suarez. We're from the FBI. We have a few questions to ask you about your involvement in a recently discovered prostitution ring."
The agents smirked and Pete buried his head into the pavement with a groan. Today was only the beginning of many bad days he had ahead of him.
Epilogue
"Well well," Agent Blackinton said when Gabe wandered back to the apartment complex about fifteen minutes later. "We thought you had run off in your girlfriend's fancy Mustang never to be seen again."
"Please," Gabe said, sticking his hands in his pockets. He looked around to see the police helping out the girls, whether it be wrapping them in blankets and offering them water or working on busting the locks they hadn't gotten around to when they heard the sirens. "I'm not cruel enough to leave you guys hanging. Glad to see that Chris, Darren and Fran found you in time."
"Like real suburban commandos," Suarez said. "But at least they didn't approach us the way you did with the flash drive."
"Alright alright," Gabe said holding his hands out. "I could have done better on that, but at least you guys are here now and get the satisfaction of busting open one of the largest prostitution rings in the Southeast and getting away from me all in one night."
Suddenly, Gabe's phone began to ring. He yanked it out of his pocket to see Pete's number flashing across the screen. He held a finger up to the two agents as he walked away from the police noise. "Excuse me, you two. I need to take this."
He hit the answer button and put on his best fake concern. "Pete, man, is everything alright? I drove by the place and there are cops everywhere!"
"You don't think I know that, Alexander," Pete said through gritted teeth. "It's all over the police scanners. And between this and my money being stolen, I'm really starting to think it was either you or Patrick."
"Me? Please," Gabe said, sounding innocent. "I told you, I didn't even know where you kept your money and I only saw the place five minutes ago! Besides, why does it have to be me or Patrick? It could be somebody else. Could have been Ryan or Jon..."
"I don't care if you said the place was your childhood home," Pete said angrily, "I'm starting to regret ever letting you into my fold. Now you get your ass to Haveli in an hour. I'm going to find out who sold me out. Or I just might assume it was both of you and kill you both. Hope you can convince me otherwise."
Pete hung up and Gabe was left staring at his phone for a few seconds in shock.
It's never a good thing when somebody snaps. Especially when someone's life hangs in the balance. Even if that someone is the scumbag's number two...
"Hey guys," Gabe said, turning back to Suarez and Blackinton. "You feel like taking out the ringleader tonight as well?"
------------------
Gabe was getting tired of seeing this garage. He'd would have rather been back at the house, helping Greta with Victoria, but at least he wouldn't have to see it anymore after tonight.
He sat in the backseat of Butch's car, looking out for anyone who might be coming in. It was mostly empty though. "C'mon Pete and Patrick, hurry your asses up."
Butch was in the driver's seat, glasses on and reading a book. He was trying his best to look nondescript for whenever the two showed up. "Maybe they're running late?"
"Patrick maybe," Gabe said, peeking his head between the two front seats. "I'm pretty sure he is completely aware that he might meet his end tonight. I wouldn't be rushing either. Pete, however, is scarily precise. He may be a cocky asshole who honestly thought he wouldn't get caught, but he runs his business like a ship."
"I still can't believe you're not even going in there for this," Butch said, looking down at the page.
"It's not about me," Gabe muttered, "It's best if they think I skipped town."
Butch craned his neck to look at Gabe. "Oh, I know that. I just sort of wish I could see what's going to happen, even if it was a vicarious experience. Just for shits and giggles."
"You're such a sadist."
"No, I think I'm just addicted to trainwrecks and people getting theirs in violent ways."
Suddenly a car Gabe recognized as Patrick's pulled into the garage. Gabe ducked in the backseat as the car drove past them and came to a stop a few yards away. "Is that Patrick for sure?"
"Patrick was the sort of skinny blonde one who looked annoyed with Pete all the time, right?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah, it's him."
Gabe peeked up a little to see a very worried looking Patrick walk past them and out of the garage. A few minutes later, a Mercedes sped into the garage and Pete stormed out of it as soon as he came to a stop. Gabe kept himself hidden in the backseat as he stalked by the car and out of the garage. "Is he out?"
Butch stayed silent for a few seconds as he watched Pete over the edge of his book. He then slammed it shut and looked down at Gabe. "Yeah, he's gone."
"Call it," Gabe said quickly as he sat up. "Then let's get out of here."
Butch nodded and pulled out his phone. He dialed as Gabe opened the passenger side door to crawl out of the backseat. "Hey, uhh, I really wasn't sure who to call, but I was walking back to the Westin when I heard some pretty loud screaming coming out of this restaurant... Haveli, I think? It just worries me and I think someone might get hurt..."
---------------------
The door of the restaurant slammed shut as Pete stormed in. "Patrick, where are you?!"
"Over here, asshole," Patrick said with a roll of his eyes as he stood up from where he usually sat. "Did you suddenly forget where we sit three nights a week?"
"Don't patronize me," Pete said, getting closer to Patrick. "Where's Alexander?"
Patrick had to laugh at that. "Oh, you're getting onto me about being patronized? Peter, all you've done for the past four years is patronize and belittle me. And then suddenly, some guy walks right through that door asking to work with you and you're treating him like the second coming of Christ!"
"I asked where Alexander was," Pete said sternly, ignoring Patrick entirely.
"I don't know where your new boyfriend is," Patrick said sarcastically. "I'm not his keeper. He probably skipped town for all we know."
Pete growled under his breath. "Well, then who did it?"
"Did what?"
"You know what I mean, Patrick. Who sold me out? Who gave away the location of my money and my girls?"
"If you use the word 'me' one more time, I'm going to chuck you out that window."
Pete grabbed a hold of Patrick's collar, his face turning red with seething anger. "You were the only one who knew where both locations were. For all I know, you used Alexander to work against me."
"What?!"
Patrick pushed him off and onto the floor. "Pete, I kept all your secrets for the past four years. I can name off all your bank account numbers off the top of my head as well as everyone on your payroll and all your random little storage spaces. I told no one else all this shit and what did you do for me? Jack. You kicked me around and treated me like your little gopher. And suddenly, you let in a guy with no background into your fold? If anything, Alexander made me realize how much of a shitty business you run. God, I could have sold you out years ago if I wanted to. This perfect shitstorm is not my doing, but I sort of wish it was!"
Pete scrambled up from the floor. "You ungrateful son of a bitch!"
Before Patrick could say anything else, Pete threw a right hook to his jaw. Patrick's head jerked to the side and he could feel blood coming out from where he bit down on his tongue. He stood on unstable feet, but Patrick quickly retaliated with a punch to the nose and a kick to the shins. Pete then jumped onto Patrick, knocking him to the floor and attempting to strangle him, but Patrick kicked him off and quickly started towards the door.
That's when he heard the click.
He turned to see Pete sitting up from where he landed with his gun aimed at Patrick. "Don't move. You move for that door, I shoot your fucking head off."
Suddenly, the sound of sirens started to gather outside the restaurant. Patrick looked out the window to see several police cars coming to a stop in the street. He then looked back at Pete with an uneasy look. "I'm going to take my chances out there."
He then rushed towards the door. Pete pulled the trigger twice, but only hit the glass of the door as Patrick ran out. Pete scrambled up from his spot on the floor and rushed out after him. "Come back, you bastard! I'm not done with you!"
Pete didn't get very far out the door before he was tackled and forced onto the ground by three police officers. He could see that Patrick was suffering the same fate about three yards away from him. Suddenly, two pairs of shined dress shoes were in his face. He looked up to see two very tall men in suits looking down at him.
The one on the right with dark hair and blue eyes flashed his badge at Pete. "Mr. Wentz, I'm Agent Blackinton. This is my partner Agent Suarez. We're from the FBI. We have a few questions to ask you about your involvement in a recently discovered prostitution ring."
The agents smirked and Pete buried his head into the pavement with a groan. Today was only the beginning of many bad days he had ahead of him.
Epilogue