Two Steak Taco Combos and a Pair of Sig Sauers Read online

  TWO STEAK TACO COMBOS AND A

  PAIR OF SIG SAUERS

  Guns + Tacos Season Three Episode 5

  Neil S. Plakcy

  Series Created and Edited by

  Michael Bracken and Trey R. Barker

  PRAISE FOR TWO STEAK TACO COMBOS AND A PAIR OF SIG SAUERS

  “Not all novelists are equally good at short formats. Neil Plakcy, on the other hand, is a master of both. In Two Steak Tacos Combos and a Pair of Sig Sauers, he pulls fans of the ‘Have Body, Will Guard’ series out of the exotic, sometimes dangerous, hills of the French Riviera and drops us onto the mean streets of the USA. When the last of Liam’s Navy SEAL buddies calls for help—from the battlefield, no less—Liam and Aidan hop on the next flight out and head to Chicago to locate Liam’s best friend’s missing wife. What we get is a fast-paced inside look at the tenuous lives of American immigrants, torn from their homelands by violence; lives in which old, and sometimes bad, customs are still practiced. Through the familiar, loving, give-and-take of these two, smart, brave men, we get a ringside seat at a little American tragedy, all the more poignant for the fact that it plays out in the shadow of the American Dream.” —Ulysses Grant Dietz, author of Cliffhanger

  Copyright © 2021 by Neil S. Plakcy

  All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

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  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover design by Zach McCain

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Two Steak Taco Combos and a Pair of Sig Sauers

  About the Author

  Books by the Author

  Preview from the eighteenth episode of Guns + Tacos

  A Smith & Wesson with a Side of Chorizo by Andrew Welsh-Huggins

  For Chicagolander Eileen Matluck.

  On a Thursday morning at the end of February, Liam McCullough finished his morning workout, showered, and began a quick round of Call of Duty on his laptop. He was about to splash out into the English Channel on D-Day in command of a platoon of soldiers when the Skype request from Joey Sheridan popped up. He immediately ditched the game and answered the call.

  Joey looked like shit. His face was smeared with dirt and—could those be tear tracks on his cheek? Joey was a US Navy SEAL, the last of Liam’s original team. And SEALs didn’t cry.

  Unless the world was about to fall apart.

  “What’s up, bud?” Liam asked.

  “I need your help, Billy.” Joey was one of the last people left, other than Liam’s mother and sisters, who still called him by his childhood nickname—the one he’d dumped when he came out of the closet and decided to call himself Liam.

  The screen crackled with static, and Liam lost the connection for a moment. When it came back, Joey was saying, “She’s missing.”

  “Hold on. I lost something. Who’s missing?”

  “Cathy Beth,” Joey said with emphasis. “I just got a message from her dad.” He stopped to wipe his eyes. Shit, this was real.

  Liam kept his voice calm, though his heart was racing. “Tell me what happened.”

  “She’s been living with her folks in Chicago. I only have one more month left on this tour, and I’m out.” Joey paused to catch his breath, and Liam heard the rat-tat-tat of a rifle in the background. He was surprised that Joey could get any kind of reception out there in a desert AO, or area of operation.

  “She’s been volunteering with a group that helps women escape from violence,” Joey continued. “I told her it was too dangerous but she wouldn’t listen.”

  “How did she turn up missing?” Liam asked.

  “A Somali girl started coming to the center a few weeks ago. She had just come out to her parents and they were very angry about it, and her father began beating her.” The screen crackled for a moment, and then Joey’s face appeared again. “The other day her father announced they were going to have her cut up to try and change her.”

  “Cut up?” Liam asked.

  “Female genital mutilation. Don’t ask me the details because it’s very creepy. Jamillah wanted to run away, and Cathy Beth went to her house to pick her up.” His voice broke. “A neighbor saw the father forcing Jamillah and Cathy Beth into the back of a van. That’s the last anyone saw of them. The police say they could be anywhere. Or dead.”

  “Aidan and I will get the next plane to Chicago,” Liam said. “Text or email me everything you’ve got, and who I should talk to.”

  “I love you, bro,” Joey said, and then the screen went to static again.

  “Who loves you besides me?”

  Liam looked up to see his husband, Aidan Greene, standing in the doorway of their bedroom.

  “Let me guess. Joey Sheridan.”

  “You got it. Cathy Beth has gone missing in Chicago. We’ve got to get there ASAP.”

  “Us? Since when do we handle missing persons? We’re bodyguards, remember? We’re there before things get to this point.”

  “And we’re there afterwards, too,” Liam said. “Unless you want to sit this one out.”

  “I can’t let you go running into trouble on your own. When I married you I promised to always stand by your side. You start packing and I’ll get us tickets somehow, even though it’s incredibly last minute.”

  Liam started grabbing equipment and tossing it on the bed while Aidan hunted. “If we hustle, we can make a flight out of Nice that gets us to Charles de Gaulle in time to catch a non-stop Delta flight to O’Hare. We get in at three-thirty this afternoon Chicago time. One small problem: it’s almost twenty-five hundred dollars each, one way.”

  “Do we have the money?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then buy the damn tickets and help me pack.”

  Liam knelt in front of the safe at the back of their closet and twirled the combination. They kept an emergency fund in euros and dollars there, and he split the US currency, mostly twenties and fifties, into two piles, one for him and one for Aidan.

  Aidan called their next-door neighbor Slava, who drove his Mercedes as if he were racing at Monte Carlo, and he got them to the airport in Nice with minutes to spare before their flight closed. He left them with a promise to take care of their dog, Hayam, until they returned.

  Liam didn’t get a chance to check his email until they were standing in line at the gate. “Joey sent me a copy of the police report.” He looked up at Aidan. “That’s all.”

  “It’s a start. You have contact information for Cathy Beth’s parents?”

  “In the report.” Liam scanned it as they moved forward in the line, Aidan pushing both their bags ahead.

  The report said little more than what Joey had told Liam over the phone, though it did have the full names of all the parties and the address of the house where the Somali girl and her family had been living.

  Liam brooded as they walked down the jetway. Aidan was right; they were bodyguards, not missing persons agents.

  Liam opened the materials Joey had sent once they were airborne and he and Aidan both hunched over their laptops to read. The first document was a case report Cathy Beth had written her supervisor about the situation at the Gedir house.

  “Mr. Ahmed Gedir is a thirty-five-year-old Somali native,” the report began. “He married his wife, Barkhado, when he was twenty years old, and soon after, their village was destroyed in the fighting. Ahmed and Barkhado were separated, and be believed that she was dead, so he and several friends fled the country.

  “Eventually, he was accepted as a political refugee and settled in Chicago, where he found work as a construction laborer. Through connections in the Somali community he discovered that Barkhado had been pregnant when they lost contact, that she had a daughter and was living in the slums of Mogadishu with distant cousins. He was able to return to Mogadishu, re-establish contact with his wife, and promise to bring her and the girl to the US.”

  “Aww,” he heard Aidan say from the seat beside him.

  He knew his husband. That he’d find this part of the story romantic. Well, there had to be something bad coming or they wouldn’t be involved.

  “Barkhado became pregnant during that visit, but due to continuing upset in the country, she and her daughters Jamillah and Fawzia were not able to come to the United States until a year ago.

  “They settled in the Albany Park neighborhood of Chicago with Mr. Gedir and the girls quickly became Americanized. However, because Mr. Gedir had not been with them as they were growing up and didn’t know them well, he reacted badly whenever there were arguments. He had been accustomed to living as a single man and did not mesh well with his family.”

  Although he didn’t know Cathy Beth well, Liam could hear her voice clearly through her report. She was a sweet Midwestern girl who Joey had met when he was on leave in the States, an
d according to him they had both fallen hard and fast for each other. Her sweetness balanced out Joey’s battle-hardened temperament, and she had an inner strength that Joey connected to.

  Aidan hoped that strength was carrying her through whatever she was facing.

  “Three months ago, Jamillah began coming to Asistencia Familiar for advice in dealing with her father, whom she accused of abuse. Preliminary intake reports justified a family visit and this advisor witnessed Mr. Gedir’s extreme anger at opening their family business to an outsider. An attempt was made to reason with him, but the result was the advisor being ejected from the household.”

  Any evidence that his wife had been mistreated must have made Joey steam, Liam thought.

  “Jamillah continued to come to the center for advice and counseling, and two weeks ago she opened up about her feelings for another young woman, and her conclusion that she might be a lesbian. This advisor counseled her to avoid bringing the subject up with her parents until she graduated from high school and was able to live independently.”

  That was smart advice. Liam knew too many stories of kids beaten and abandoned by their families for being gay.

  “Unfortunately, three days ago Mr. Gedir discovered Jamillah in an intimate situation with her girlfriend, and he beat her severely. Yesterday she arrived at the center and announced that her father had arranged for her to undergo female genital mutilation at the hands of a male community member with experience in such procedures.”

  That was the cutting Joey had referenced. There was no internet on the plane, so Liam couldn’t immediately research the process—or turn that task over to Aidan. Instead, he continued to read.

  “This advisor counseled Jamillah not to return to her home under such conditions and promised to find her a place in a group home. She insisted that she wanted to return home one more time to gather her belongings. This advisor has agreed to pick her up tomorrow at two o’clock at her family home at 4100 West Wilson Avenue in Albany Park and usher her through entry into the foster care system. Jamillah assures this advisor that both her parents will be at work, and they will be expecting her to be in school.”

  That was the end of the report. Clearly something had gone wrong.

  It was so frustrating to be locked up in a flying tin box when there was so much he needed to do, and it made Liam irritable, even when Aidan innocently asked if he wanted the bag of peanuts he was crumbling in his right fist.

  “Here.”

  “Thanks. Just what I always wanted. Crushed nuts.”

  “If you’re trying to make me laugh it’s not working.”

  “I’m trying to get you to focus on the task ahead, instead of stressing.” He pointed to the nearly flat bag. “Case in point.”

  “Did you read Cathy Beth’s report?”

  “Very professional. And smart to have picked a time when the parents would both be at work.”

  “Did you read the notes that Joey added at the end?”

  “They were a lot less clear. Just that Cathy Beth emailed a copy of her report to her parents, and then didn’t come home for supper and wasn’t answering her cell phone. And that Mr. Ziolkowski went to the address on West Wilson Street and no one would talk to him.”

  “Someone must have seen something,” Liam insisted. “I say that’s where we start.”

  “I’ll set up a rental car at the airport as soon as we land and have internet access.”

  Liam nodded and went back to the report, trying to read through the lines for anything Cathy Beth might be implying. But she was a young, eager social worker, and it looked like she had spelled out everything she was supposed to.

  As soon as they landed Liam checked his phone for new messages, hoping there would be one from Joey that Cathy Beth had been found. Instead, the latest one from Joey simply read, “Don’t go up against Gedir unarmed. Head to the taco truck in Fuller Park after ten o’clock and ask for Jessie. Make sure to say you want the special.”

  “What does that mean?” Aidan asked, when Liam showed him the message. “They selling guns with the tacos there?”

  “Keep your voice down,” Liam said. “Remember, we’re still in France.”

  While they waited for the flight to Chicago, Liam brooded and tried to come up with a plan. But it was impossible to strategize without knowing where Cathy Beth and this girl were—even if they were still alive. He hoped that despite being a victim of the Somali war, Mr. Gedir was not willing to kill. That he simply needed to stash his daughter until whoever was going to perform the surgery was ready for her.

  “I did some research on the organization Cathy Beth volunteers with,” Aidan said as they waited in line for the long-haul flight. “Asistencia Familiar focuses on immigrant women and families. Social workers guide them through paperwork in health, education and citizenship areas.”

  “Nothing about abusive husbands or fathers?”

  “Not specifically.”

  “So that means Cathy Beth has no preparation for whatever she’s going through.”

  “You know Joey Sheridan. You think he would fall for a delicate flower who wilts at the first sign of trouble?”

  Liam laughed. “As a matter of fact, I know that she gives him as good as she gets. She’s a tough woman.”

  “Then she’ll survive this.”

  Liam didn’t expect to sleep on the plane, but apparently he did. It was an Air France flight code-shared with Delta, so their lunch, if you want to call it that, was French-inspired. As soon as he finished eating, he tilted back in his seat, grateful that Aidan had upgraded them to business class, and planned to take a quick cat nap, then spend most of the flight strategizing.

  Instead, he woke as the plane descended through cloudy skies to Chicago O’Hare Airport. “I’ve been thinking,” Aidan said, as Liam blinked and shifted in his seat. “The neighborhood where the Gedirs live is one of the most mixed in the city. Heavily Latin, with a solid mix of Asian and Middle-Eastern.”

  “Your point being?”

  “Two white guys come in and start asking questions. Who’s going to answer?”

  “You have a good rapport with people.”

  “Students who want to learn English as a Second Language,” Aidan said. “And sure, I might get lucky, but I think we’re going to need some insider help.”

  Liam frowned. “Ricky Johnson.”

  “Yup. You have his number?”

  “Most definitely not.”

  Ricky Johnson was Cathy Beth’s BFF. They had bonded in college and majored in social work together. He’d even been her best man at her wedding, when Liam had served that role for Joey. He was as tall as Liam, but slimmer, and about as flamboyantly gay as you could be without combusting into flames.

  But he was a Chicago native, familiar with its streets and its population. He’d be an effective tour guide, and hopefully able to talk to people who wouldn’t speak to him or Aidan. He knew it was the right move, but he had to try one final gambit.

  “Let me get this straight, if I can use that term where Ricky Johnson is involved. You want us to call this combination of the Rock and RuPaul to swoop in to the rescue?”

  “I have made you so gay,” Aidan said. “Without me you would never even know who RuPaul is. And yes, I think he can be effective. I think he’s just as empathetic as Cathy Beth, and he’ll fit in a whole lot better on the streets of Chicago.”

  “But how do we find him?”

  “I’m sure the Ziolkowksis have a number.”

  While Aidan handled the rental car, Liam called Cathy Beth’s mother’s cell phone. She was a schoolteacher and likely finished for the day by then.

  “Mrs. Z, it’s Billy McCullough, Joey’s friend.” It hurt him to go back to that old name, but it was the way Joey had introduced him.

  “Thank God,” Mrs. Z said. “Joey said he was going to ask you to come help look for Cathy Beth, but I had no idea you’d get here so soon. Don’t you live in France?”

  “Got the first flight we could, ma’am. Any word from Cathy Beth?”

  “Not a peep. And George went up and down that street yesterday and couldn’t get a thing out of anyone.”