CHAPTER TWELVE

ATLAS

The last thing I expected after napping beside Jasiel was to wake up and find my cock had his name written on it in black Sharpie pen. It was in all caps, but just his first name. It wasn't a surprise to see when I saw it, more so how he found a Sharpie.

He couldn't contain his laughter at the situation, and then he flashed his bum at me to show me the way he's written my name on his skin. He'd clearly done it himself; the S and the L were the wrong way around, almost like he'd been looking in the mirror when he attempted it.

It would be on both of us for the time being. Plus, the least he could've done was get me hard and then write it. The letters became deformed as I tugged at the skin.

After that, we had to return to a level of seriousness. It was Jasiel's last favorite level, but we had to get a lot done.

It was time to head to the shipping yard. Eleven at night. Trojan get the alert about the docked container at port.

"The van's ready downstairs," Midas said.

The van was large, three seats in the front, and one in the back to sit with cargo. I was in the driving seat, masked up with a black scarf around my face and shades over my eyes, it looked less criminal than driving around in a cartoon mask. And carrying two guns, one in each shoulder holster. We had to be careful, we were one wrong move away from blowing everything. My identity had to stay secret.

Trojan had the documents, forged, of course. Midas had first-hand knowledge of the docks from having his own ammo deliveries. Jasiel had his knives; he also had a mouthful of complaints which I quickly shut down with a large blue raspberry slushie.

The dock was busy with night workers and if it hadn't been for the black sky, I might've been convinced it wad daylight because of the large lights forcing bright, hot white on everything from the tall light beams.

I stayed in the van as we were shown to the shipping container. My objectives for tonight were clear, make sure we get in and out safely. If at any moment, I think we've been made by anyone, we called the entire thing off and we scrap this part of the plan.

Usually, all parts of the plan had to be done and they must all come together. Except, this time, if this part of the plan didn't come together, it wasn't the worst thing that could've happened. It would've given the Coronado family more ammo, but overall, I'd be able to keep my identity.

Midas came around to me with his phone in hand. "Look at this."

There it was. The inside of the container. All that firepower. Automatic rifles. Boxes stacked upon each other full of ammunition. This was clearly going to cut them off at their knees, or ankles, depending on what they had planned for it.

"We should be able to get most of it in," he told me,

"That ammo," I said, taking his phone. I zoomed in on it. "That's military grade. Foreign. These are strong. Take all the ammo. Don't leave any of it behind."

They could have all the guns if that's what we needed to leave behind, but if they didn't have the right ammunition for those guns, they were as good as useless.

As Midas left, Jasiel arrived, heaving a large box in his arms. "Look!"

"What is it?"

"Explosives." He had the biggest, wildest smile on his face. Of course, they were explosives, and of course, he probably sniffed them out. "I can use these."

I nodded at him. "Sure, baby. Put them in the van. And help with the rest of it. I need to monitor what's going on out there." I stared ahead as more people were coming to inspect their shipments.

It wasn't sure the Coronado family who had shipments coming in. They might've been the largest player in the current climate to get things illegally passed through this port, but there were always smaller fish trying to come up in this big pond. It was no longer my job to keep those small fish down.

It took over half an hour until Midas slapped the side of the van like it was some piece of ass. "All done," he said.

His voice caught someone up ahead, it was followed by a war cry scream, the type you deliver when you discover your shipping container is filled with the finest Italian furniture.

That was them.

"Get in," I shouted.

BANG.

Shots were fired. The sound of their metallic pings like flicking copper coins down the garbage disposal.

PING. PING.

They were shooting at us and getting closer.

"We've been made!" I called out to them. "Close up the van and let's go!"

They weren't listening. From the side mirror, I saw Midas gearing up to test out some of the automatic weapons and the long string of ammunition, straight from the box.

I pulled out my gun and instead of shooting at them, I pointed it to the large, craned light above us. One pop and the light went out. It wasn't the only light on the port dock, but it was enough so that we didn't feel like we were out in the open.

The sudden whir and orange glowing bullets popped from the automatic gun in Midas's possession, sprinkling shots out to the men shooting at us. I heard people falling to the ground, their end-of-life moans and the way blood caught in their throat as they tried to let out final words—well, I'd enjoyed hearing that.

As an assassin, I'd heard so many last words, most people didn't know that they were their last words, and that was upsetting for those people because sometimes it was comical. I'm not a fan of pizza. I recalled one man talking about food, he was a kingpin from somewhere, I believe I killed him for the Coronado family as well.

The lights on the car ahead flashed. I caught a look at Benicio Jr. hiding behind two men and their guns.

"Get in!" I called to them. The last thing I wanted right now was to have the entire operation blown. We had over a week left until I could reveal myself and shoot Benicio point blank. The idea satisfied a part of my brain that had been begging to be scratched. "Now!"

Jasiel jumped into the passenger seat, looking at me with his big, beautiful bug eyes. I hadn't meant to shout at him, but they weren't listening. "I was making sure we didn't miss any explosives," he mumbled softly.

A gunshot hit the side of the van. "Fuck." I throttled the engine ignition. Trojan and Midas had to get in now. The back of the van shut. They both must've climbed into the back. "You in there?" I called out.

"Go!" They shouted.

I sped off in the van, careful of the cargo we were carrying, and more careful not to get hit by any of the men who aimed their guns at us. One stray bullet could blow this entire thing up if it hit an explosive.

Midas and Trojan continued to shoot from the back of the van until we'd gotten away from the port and back into the nearby neighborhoods. Nobody followed, not a single car was chasing us, and the only sirens we heard came from the distance.

Driving the van to an outdoor vehicle storage lockup, we'd made it all back in one piece. I made sure to triple check Jasiel for any cuts or blood. There had been a couple times in the past when he'd been cut bad and he hadn't realized it, nor had he experienced any pain.

"I'm fine," he grumbled. "Where's my slushie?" He looked inside the front of the van. "I'm so thirsty. And it's so hot in here."

He was right. The garage was hot, but we still had plenty of work to do. We had to get the firearms unloaded and the ammunition checked out. They'd be looking for us but with the growing tension between the two families, I was hoping the Coronado family would think this was done by the Agosti's.

"Did any of you get a shot at Benicio Jr.?" I asked, finally freeing myself from the heat in the scarf around my face.

"I saw him," Midas said, pulling out the weapons and stacking them along the width of the wall. "Figured it would spoil things if we killed him."

They were right. We had several plans, and they all hinged on one thing or another happening. Our first plan was to take Benicio and the family out months ago, but that hinged on getting Jasiel out of prison first. Everything hinged on Jasiel being out. Now that he was, and we had an opening to get at the family, we couldn't let anything get in the way of slaughtering them all. I didn't choose to do that to them, they were forcing me to.

"How much did you leave behind?" I asked, looking into the back of the van. I grabbed a nice semi-automatic rifle. I never used these types of weapons. I liked a one-shot gun because when I shot, I never missed, and I never needed more than one bullet.

"A couple of guns. We took all the ammo and the explosives," Trojan said. "Once we've back at the safe house, I'll pull up the security footage to see if they grabbed the rest of the stuff."

I placed the weapon against the wall with the rest of them. "This is all yours," I said to Midas. I had no use for it. I had my own guns. I peered into the back of the van once more. "Where's Jasiel?"

Outside the storage unit, Jasiel stood with his back against the wall. He stared up at the stars in the sky.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I don't have my slushie," he grumbled, frowning at me as if it was my fault, he'd drank it all. "Can we go home?"

"We need to unload the van first," I told him. "And take stock of all the explosives. If you really want to blow that place up, you need to know what you're working with."

Excitement popped life back inside him. "Yes!" He jumped around, clapping his hands. "Ka-boom!"