Chapter Eighteen: Exit, Pursued by the Surprisingly-Portuguese Mafia

Yuki and I froze. There were at least three burly mafia goons between us and escape.

“You,” Mister Texiera said.

“Is this the guy?” Yuki asked.

I nodded.

Mister Texiera was eating a fancy seafood-and-sauce bowl.

“What’s that?” I asked. “Some kind of fettuccine alfredo?”

The mafioso scowled. Perhaps it was not the best course of action to antagonize a man of his stature.

“It’s shrimp Mozambique!” he said.

“Hmmm. That accent,” Yuki said. “Must be Portuguese.”

“Oh? Really?” I asked. I glanced at Mister Teixeira. He was rather ethnically ambiguous. I assumed he was Italian, given the profession and all. “Like, Brazilian?”

"Teixeira is a Portuguese Surname," Yuki confirmed. "One of the actresses on-set had a similar name." 

I made an 'ah' type movement with my mouth. 

“The Lisbon branch would have drowned you in the port by now,” Mister Teixeira muttered.

Ah, Lisbon. Portugal, it is. I guess not all mafia types are from Sicily. Who knew?

“Let us go.” Yuki pointed at the mafia boss pointedly. “My bodyguard team will have already alerted my own team of lawyers, the authorities, and a legal team from my agency in Tokyo.”

“Ah, Miss Seong,” Tex began, pushing the shrimp meal away. “International celebrities area growth market in the film industry. We try to take a cut out of every new face that comes through the airport. For protection, of course.”

Yuki let out a sudden gasp. This turned into an indignant scoff. “Protection? More like extortion money. I’ve seen this before.”

I was busy wondering who Seong was. My two companions both continued on as if nothing was different. Yuki had definitely noticed the name enough to be shocked.

Over by the door leading outside, the two enforcers took a tentative step forward. Mister Texiera waved them off, and they returned to the door. We wouldn’t be able to escape until we got rid of them one way or another.

If there was any consolation in my mind, it was that Mister Texeira wasn’t acting terribly angry. At least not with regards to Yuki. He had to have known that we’d busted out of our restraints, as well.

“Now, now.” Miser Teixeira dried his hands with a napkin. “We have it on good authority that you and our contractor here are something of an item.”

Yuki and I looked to each other.

“Are we?” I asked.

Yuki☆ shrugged.

We both looked back to Tex expectantly.

With a reluctant sigh, Mister Teixeira reached into his pocket. He did not pull out a gun, mercifully, but a mid-sized tablet. Yuki and I took a step forward.

A series of still frames appeared on the tablet. They were pictures of us. Hanging around the set. Setting up that table full of food for the wrap party.

“Is it not true that you two are appearing in a movie together?” asked Tex.

This was that guerrilla movie the director guy was filming!

“Hey, that French guy was filming that without our permission,” I said.

“I think he’s Québécois,” Yuki corrected.

“Right. Whatever. He just filmed us hanging around on set.” I crossed my arms. “What of it?”

“It is my understanding that you two have developed something of a rapport. The internet is abuzz with rumors.” Miser Teixeira spoke slowly, like he had a sly one-up on us. “You’re quite popular together.”

“Not as popular as her and Janae though,” I said offhand, receiving an elbow to the side from Yuki.

“The internet says a lot of things,” Yuki said.

Tex looked to Yuki☆ expectantly.

“Rumors have a tendency to spread,” said the mafioso. “It would be a shame if

Aha! The Teixeiras were going to try to spread rumors about Miss Yuki on the internet! How fiendish. Surprisingly small-scale for the mafia, but still quite rude. I was still processing the fact that they weren’t about to break my thumbs or dump me into the harbor with concrete boots.

“One press of a button, and I can have a horde of bots revealing your ‘relationship’ to the world,” said Tex. “I understand that would cause all manner of trouble with your online fanbase. To say nothing about your agency back home, hmmm? I understand there’s some sort of taboo about idols and relationships.”

“You fiend!” I pointed at Mister Teixeira. “You dare besmirch this woman’s good name!?”

Mister Teixeira scowled. This outburst had finally insulted his sensibilities. Maybe it wasn’t too late for them to break my thumbs.

“Mister…” Tex’s eyes narrowed. “You know, I never got your last name.”

“Just call me Vic,” I said.

At some unseen signal, Mister Teixeira's enforcers moved closer in. One cracked his knuckles. I held a hand out in front of Yuki. They didn’t seem to want to hurt her per se, but goons of this caliber were not often known for restraint.

“Uh, wait!” I said. “If you hurt us, you’ll never get the, uh, secret treasure of the San Gabriel Mountains?”

“There’s no such thing,” Mister Teixeira said immediately, beckoning his enforcers to move in closer.

Well, it was worth a shot, I thought.

Mister Teixeira looked to Yuki one last time, then pressed a button. Some elaborate bot network posted all sorts of stills of us all over the internet. How rude! All the while, those two mafia heavies marched closer.

“We do need to keep you both alive for the rumors to take hold,” Mister Texiera said. “It would help if you two were seen around town. But Vic here in particular doesn’t need his thumbs, per se.”

Only a thinly foreshadowed twist could save my digits now!

Just then, shadows danced in the narrow slit of the ajar warehouse door. There were muffled, distant shouts that grew progressively louder. Someone was busting through!

The two bodyguards turned, a new threat appeared on their radar, and I was chump change in comparison.

A hefty SUV had clearly parked just outside the warehouse door. Emergency sirens could be heard, but they were still far in the distance. This wasn’t the cops (yet). No, this was…

Janae appeared in the doorway and swiftly dispatched twin suit-wearing mafia goons with swift kicks.

“You found us!” Yuki declared, followed by something equally as relieved in Japanese.

“Miss Yuki! Behind me,” Janae said.

We wasted no time in fleeing out the door.

A whole security squad in three SUVs was with Janae. This must’ve been the other shift that took over when Janae was at her apartment.

We crouch-ran out of the warehouse as Mister Teixeira barked for additional guards. I was surprised at first that no bullets had started flying but—no, something pinged against the metal wall not far from my head—ah, there it was. Extra danger and peril. How exciting.

Janae was right behind Yuki, doing her belated duty as a bodyguard. We weren’t headed for the SUVs though, for they were being used as cover by the security team.

“Who knew that random civilian bodyguards had the authority to do all this?” I said aloud, barely perceptible by the din of gunfire.

Actually, maybe the bodyguards weren’t authorized to do this, and merely taking the initiative to protect their charge.

Up ahead, I saw our destination.

It was my Vespa! The Teixeiras had taken it with them, mercifully. They’d hid it in a dark corner of the dockyard lot so as not to allay suspicion. It’s red coloring was hard to miss, and general familiarity led me to home in on it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Get her out of here,” Janae said. “I’ll be right behind you.”

I didn’t think twice about accepting this plan. I clambered aboard, with Yuki jumping in behind me. The keys were still in the ignition!

“Well, it’s our lucky day,” I said glibly as I turned the Vespa on.

I could still hear Mister Texiera shouting up a storm in the warehouse. Those sirens were still far in the distance; it would be some time before the authorities.

“Aw, man, this thing probably still has a tracker on it,” I said.

“Just go!” Yuki said, looking behind us.

Janae was off near one of the SUVs. The Teixeira family surely had vehicles of their own.

I gunned it down the dock and out towards busy LA late-afternoon traffic.