“You know this guy, Vegas?” Junior asked.
“I never met the man, but if we’re talking about the same person, we have a much bigger problem than we thought. The IBPP are known for carrying out the majority of the paid prison hits in New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut. They pride themselves on being able to get to anyone, anywhere in the prison system. Last year they got those three guys the Feds were holding in protective custody for that big Mob trial. To this day nobody knows how they got in those cells. The Russians, the Jews, and the Italians use them extensively.” I finished with a shiver. I literally had goose bumps on my arms.
Minister Farah ran his hand across his face. “They have over a hundred highly-trained men in the prison system at any time, and have at least that many on the outside. They are as good as any of the people trained by the FOI, and a hundred times more deadly because they have no conscience.”
“Jesus Christ, what the hell has Sonya gotten us into, Junior?” Harris got up and started pacing nervously, reminding me of why I hated his punk ass so much.
Ignoring Harris, Minister Farah turned to Junior, full of apprehension. “Young man, I must ask you, what is your business with Xavier?”
Junior glanced over at Minister Farah hesitantly, lowering his head. “I’m sleeping with his wife.”
“And he’s not very happy about it,” Harris added.
Minister Farah sat back in his chair, “Oh, that’s not good. That’s not good at all. Did you know this woman was married?”
“Of course he did,” Harris cut in angrily. He’d stopped pacing and was standing in front of Junior, staring down at him like a father about to chastise his child. “It was the rest of us who didn’t know. He could bring down the whole damn family with this. And for what—some other man’s *?”
“Shut up, Harris!” I growled. Junior remained silent, but I could tell from the way he was glaring at Harris that he was about to take his past few days of frustration out on our brother-in-law. As much as I might have liked to see him knock Harris on his ass, we had too many threats from outside sources to start fighting within the family. “Did you hear me? I said sit down and shut up!” I repeated through gritted teeth.
“Why, Vegas? We all know I’m telling the truth. All the man wants is for Junior to stop screwing his wife. We wouldn’t even be he here if he’d just jettison the bitch!”
That was when Junior snapped. He jumped up and grabbed Harris by the throat with one hand, lifting him off the ground like a rag doll. His other hand was pulled back in a fist, ready to unleash his fury onto Harris’s face. All of a sudden, my big-talking brother-in-law looked like he wanted to shit his pants. He glanced at me, but I had nothing for him. I’d already warned him. He should have known better than to call Sonya outside her name.
“You call her a bitch again and I’ll make my sister a widow. You understand me?”
“Yeah, yeah, I was just trying to make a point,” Harris squealed, barely able to speak.
“So am I.” Junior released him, and he fell to the floor. “I’m gonna get some air. I’ll meet you at the car, Vegas.”
Minister Farah sighed, leaning closer to me as we watched Junior head out the door. “You do realize your brother-in-law is right. You must convince your brother to end this affair. This woman is married, and Allah considers that sacred. Now that your brother has been warned, Brother Xavier will have no choice but to end his life and the lives of anyone who stands in his way, if only to save face.”
The displeasure on Minister Farah’s face was pronounced. It was one thing to have a business problem where the most you could lose was money, but this was personal. The one thing the old man taught me back in the day was that personal things always lead to trouble with a capital T. I stood up, and so did Minister Farah.