Time to Pay the Devil

      Publication1                  As instructed, Camilo drove the Edsel from Key West, north on A1A to Miami.  His directions took him to the dock area in South Miami and an old Sugar Warehouse.  This was Tony Scarsetti’s Miami headquarters, and where all drug shipments were packaged for distribution to the Eastern United States.

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Pulling through the open warehouse door, he could see Tony Scarsetti and his two bodyguards sitting at a table located in the south corner.  Other than himself, the car and these guys, the warehouse was empty.

Johnie Gibson lowered the warehouse door after he entered and James Henry King walked over to the Edsel.

“Give me the keys,” James Henry King said without emotion.

Camilo handed him the keys and then walked over to the table where Tony Scarsetti was sitting. “Okay Sen¢or.  I have performed as instructed.  Here is your car.  The three guys you told me about are dead.  I will be leaving now.  Please complete your part of our arrangement and have the money quickly transported to us in San Juan.”

“Sure, sure,” Tony answered while anxiously watching James Henry King remove the footlocker from the trunk of the Edsel.

When he finally had it on the warehouse floor, Tony walked over and opened the footlocker.  It took a minute, but he eventually retrieved one of the Jacksonville phone books and held it up for everyone to see.

“Phone books!  You’ve brought me phone books!  Maranzano has screwed me again!” he said throwing one of the phone book across the warehouse.

No one spoke – the devil was mad.

Tony quietly walked across the warehouse and back to the table where he had been sitting.  Saying nothing, he prepared and lit a cigar – blowing smoke rings and staring at the open footlocker across the room.

Camilo was still standing at the table, “Sen’ or Scarsetti, I’ll be leaving now,” he said again.

Still staring in space, it seemed like minutes before Tony Scarsetti finally spoke. “Henry,” he said to James Henry Gibson. “Please see that Mr. Camilo Rivera gets on his way back to Colombia.  We no longer have any need for his assistance.”

 ~

Camilo Rivera arrived back at the Colombian Cartel compound on a direct flight from Miami to Bogota.  His body was stuffed into three separate duffel bags; each addressed to Julio Escobar.  One contained the torso, another the head and the other contained his limbs.  Camilo had been returned, as promised.

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