When we got back together it was Saturday. The operation was scheduled for Monday. Wailer had the van ready. It was a Dodge Grand Caravan. He had stripped out the insides leaving just the drivers seat. Four point restraint hooks were welded into the one side and the floor. He had tinted all the windows so no one could look in and had covered the walls with a sound proofing material. He had also welded the rear door shut. He called it his perfect prison on wheels.
The plan was a fairly simple one. Wailer would wait in a parking lot across from the park. Pete and I would join the homeless that frequented the park. We know that there was a particular bench Martin liked to sit at and make his phone calls. His body guards would chase anyone sleeping or sitting on that bench and any other bench close by. Pete and I would make sure that we were the ones on those benches. That put us one on one with the guards and close to Martin. With surprise on our side it should be a quick operation. We both knew it would be bloody but putting the guards down was the only way to make sure we were in complete control.
Pete had located an empty warehouse in Brooklyn and made arrangements for us to use it without being disturbed. That’s where we would take Martin.
We would meet at midnight on Sunday and stay the night at Pete’s apartment to make the final preparations
With nothing but time to kill until Sunday night; I decided to make an appearance at my parents house for Sunday dinner. Sunday dinners had not changed at all since I had been away. Everyone in the family was present and my arrival sent women into a frenzy to make sure that at least one of my favorite foods would be on the table.
After spending time greeting everyone and meeting the my newest nieces and nephews; I was dragged aside by my father for the scolding I knew was coming. My father never understood my long absences and I really could never explain it to him. The nature of the work I use to do was not conversation for the dinner table. Plus, I never wanted my life to visit my family.
Before dinner I finally had a few minutes alone with Keane and Franny. I had questions that needed answering.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better now.”, she said.
“Franny I need to know what Martins plan was?”
She started to cry. I always had a soft spot for her. My only two soft spot my entire life were Franny and my wife. “He was going to sell me. I heard them talking. There were other girls but I don’t know where they were. $50,000! That’s what he was getting for me!” The crying had turned into anger.
“Uncle Diego; I heard him mention Maria and that I was payback. I don’t know what that meant.” Maria was my wife. She was an investigative journalist and been killed in a car explosion a year ago. I blamed myself.
“Did you hear anything else?”
I got through dinner and all the family activities but was in a daze the whole time. I could feel my blood starting to boil. I needed to stay in control. I filled Pete in as soon as I got to his place.
“Do you have any idea what they are talking about?”, Pete
“Not at all! But Martin is about to have a very bad day!”
Note: The character, Maria-Diego's wife, was originally named Cally after my Second Life friend. I decided that I did not want to kill off a character with that name in this story. Cally does appear later in the story.