Chapter 7

Tommy’s phone record indicated that he’d recently talked to Manny Alvarez. Mark made a call to DEA, Miami division, and ran Alvarez’s name by the agent-in-charge, Mario Santiallas.

Santiallas had forwarded the call to Matthew Donahue, the agent that had been investigating Manny for the past three years.
“Alvarez is supplying North Carolina?” Mark asked.
“Actually, Alvarez isn’t his real name, but it’s been his name for the past six months. His real name is Manny Gomez, but Alvarez is his alias. We’re watching him, and we’re watching your guys when they come into town.”
“Really?” Mark said. Then he turned Manny’s picture over.
“Yes. Gomez is major. He’s supplying Tennessee, Georgia, Louisiana, and Virginia, New York, and New Jersey.”
“Yes, that’s serious.”
“Does he talk on phones?”
“He has several phones, and he rarely says anything except suggesting a meeting for drinks.”
“I guess he’s gonna be a tough one, huh?”
“Actually, I think we’re onto something. We’ve just pinched his Louisiana guy with ten kilos, and he’s being helpful.”
“Singing, huh?”
“The next American Idol.”
Mark laughed. “So if you set Manny up, what do you think he’ll do?”
“I don’t know. These situations can be tough when it’s a family organization. I don’t think he’ll rat on his family as long as he can still make moves from inside.”
“Will he be able to do that?”
“Manny is powerful; we estimate he’s moving at least five thousand kilos a week.”
“Yeah, your guy is major. Keep me posted on his status.” “You bet,” Donahue said. Mark terminated the call.

Alicia and Tommy met in front of Gold’s gym. She wore Nike running shoes, no socks, and tight nylon shorts that revealed her muscular legs. Tommy couldn’t help but stare, and he couldn’t wait for her to turn around so he could see her backside. He got an erection just looking at Alicia, something he hadn’t been able to do in a while.

They walked to the desk together, and she told the attendant that Tommy was her guest for the day.
First they went to the bench. She worked out with a hundred pounds. Her objective was noy to bulk up but remain toned and defined.
Tommy walked around the gym. He felt out of place. Not that he hadn’t been accustomed to working out, but he just wasn’t in shape. He scanned the gym. Most of the patrons were white, and they came in all sizes—thin, fat, short, and even pudgy like him. By far, out of all the women, Alicia had the best body. He went to the water fountain twice, trying to kill some time, and hoped Alicia wasn’t going to ask him to get on the bench press. But it happened on his fourth trip from the water fountain.
“Tommy, I hope you ain’t just planning on watching me.”
“Actually, I was just planning on watching today.”
“Wrong. If you’re going to be in my presence, you’re going to have to get yourself in some kind of shape.” She walked over to him and nudged his belly.
“I got a stomach of steel.” He laughed then rubbed his belly.
“That’s really sad that you’re proud of that gut. You act like a redneck trucker or something.”
Tommy put another hundred pounds on the bench. The total was now two hundred pounds.
“Since you haven’t worked out in a while, you might want to go light.”
Tommy laughed then added ten more pounds to each side of the bar. “I ain’t no weakling, baby. I’m almost 250 pounds. You don’t think I can lift two hundred pounds?”
“I’m going to spot you,” Alicia said.
Tommy lay on the bench then started rubbing his belly. She laughed then asked, “What are you doing?”
“Rubbing my good luck charm. This is where I get my strength.” He took the bar off the rack and pumped out three quick repetitions. But on his fourth rep, he struggled a little, barely managing to finish. The fifth rep was a little different. He was terribly hang gliding before Alicia helped him put the weight back on the rack.
Tommy stood, completely out of breath. “You shouldn’t have helped me. I had it,” he managed to say.
Alicia laughed aloud. “Yeah, right. If I hadn’t stepped in, you would’ve killed yourself.”
Tommy walked over to the water fountain again, gulped some more water, and then walked back over to the bench. He didn’t attempt any more chest exercises. Instead he watched Alicia for the remainder of her workout.
“So, Tommy… you gonna run with me?”
“Hell no. I can’t even run a mile.”
“If you want to go out on a date with me, you’re gonna have to run with me.” Alicia smiled.
Tommy thought long and hard. He knew he wasn’t in shape and he thought about all the water he’d had. He would probably throw up if he tried to run. He looked at Alicia again, who was smiling brightly. Then he looked at her legs. Damn, this woman is fine. He could feel his erection coming on again. Damned if he knew why she could easily arouse him. No woman had ever gotten him hard just by looking at him. For a brief instance, he imagined himself between those muscular legs, humping away.
“Tommy, what are you going to do? Are you going to get on the treadmill with me or not?”
“I’m going. What do you think; I’m a punk or something?”
“Cool. I like your spirit. Tommy, you are okay with me.”
Alicia got on the treadmill and Tommy got on the one behind her. She set her speed to where she would run her miles at twelve-minute intervals. Tommy set his speed for eighteen-minute miles. He held on to the rail as he walked fast, then he began a light trot.
Alicia was wide open, iPod attached to her arm. She was free. Nobody could stop her.
*****

Night had fallen. Alicia and Tommy talked in the gym parking lot. He stood in front of her while she leaned up against her Toyota Camry. He looked into her eyes and, for the first time, noticed that they were hazel. “You have the most amazing eyes.”

She smiled then said, “Thanks.”
“So, Ms. Jane Fonda, are we going out or what?”
She frowned. “I hope you don’t think that’s a compliment, comparing me to a white girl.”

Tommy grabbed her hands. They were soft, and he loved them. “I didn’t mean anything by that; I’m just saying, you all in shape and shit.”

Alicia turned around. “Jane wishes she had a back like mine.” “Now ain’t that the truth.”
She giggled.
“What are you laughing at?” Tommy asked.
“Just thinking about you running on that treadmill. You was bent

all over, cramping.”
“Yeah, all that water I drank fucked me up.”
She frowned. “Tommy, can you stop cursing so much?” Tommy put his hands up in defense. “I’m sorry, ma’am, it’s just

that all the niggas that I’m around … all we do is curse. I mean, there are certain people you just have to curse around to get your point across. You know what I mean?”

He put his hand in hers again. “So are we going out again or what?”
She pulled a towel from her gym bag and wiped her face. She didn’t answer him.
“Okay, Alicia. You have me damn near kill myself by getting on that fucking treadmill, and now we can’t go out?”
“Tommy, you’re cursing again.”
“Sorry.”
She looked at him then started laughing again. “Tommy, I’ll go out with you. You don’t have to look so mad.”
“No bullshit—I mean …”
“Yes, of course I will. You went out of your way to please me. I like that a lot about you.”
Tommy hadn’t anticipated her going out with him on a date. He figured a girl like Alicia was way out of his league—and she was. She was cute; he wasn’t. She was in shape; he definitely was not that. He didn’t know where he would take her. He thought about asking her to go fishing but quickly dismissed the thought. She was too cute for that.
“So, Tommy, when and where are we going?”
“I don’t know. What would you like to do?”
She frowned. “Come on, Tommy. You’re supposed to know those types of things. Women like men who has everything all planned out. Women like men to take control. Come on, Tommy, be a man.”
“Well, I don’t know. Let me surprise you.”
She smiled then wiped her face again. “I like surprises.”
“Let’s go out Friday.”
“Friday is good.”

Mark Pratt pretended that the crumpled paper was a basketball and that he was shooting a three-pointer.
Ken Clarkson blocked Mark’s game-winning three-pointer. “Get that outta here.” He was happy to have blocked the shot because he knew he could only do that in the office. On the basketball court, he’d never beat Mark, never block his shot, never steal the ball from him, and never dunk on him. All of which Mark had done to him at will.
Ken continued his little celebration.
Then the phone rang. “Agent Pratt speaking.”
“How’s it going, Pratt? This is Agent Donahue of the Miami Division. I got news for you. We busted your boy Manny Gomez.”
“Oh yeah? How did that happen? I was thinking he was Mr. Untouchable.”
“A guy who’d grown up with his family just got a conscience. He knew that he was under investigation along with Gomez. He was scared. Came in and began talking, then he called an attorney and asked for immunity. We wired him up and sent him to make a buy from Gomez. We then raided the house and seized a hundred kilos of pure Colombian coke.”