Street Justice (12 page)

The two men clamored into Russ' truck. As Mario backed out of the driveway, Russ pulled out his cell phone and pulled up Bryon's number.

“Hey, Russ, how's life?” Bryon's voice came through the cell.

“Not bad, I was just wondering if you might want to come drink with us.” Russ did not mention the coke, but knew it was implied.

“I'd love to, but if we want party favors, I'm going to need to make a stop,” Bryon replied.

“No problem, want us to come get you?” Russ offered.

“Sounds good.”

“We'll see you in few,” Russ hung up and said to Mario, “A little detour; head up to Lacey. We're going to pick up Bryon, take him to meet a friend, then the real fun begins.” Russ nodded his head as he said this.

“Roger that,” Mario said and aimed the nose of the truck toward Lacy. He was not sure how he felt about partying with Bryon again but knew he needed to support his buddy, to have his six as they would say in the army, and if Russ needed to blow off more steam after his interview, Mario was there for him.

Ten minutes later, Mario pulled Russ' truck into the driveway of a townhouse obviously built in the seventies. It was angular, made of brink and siding, but what gave it away was the four decades of wear. The lawn matched the structure, with yellow and green clumps of grass erratically growing from the dirt. The windows were covered with enough dust and film to nearly appear frosted.

Mario parked but before either man could exit the vehicle, the front door opened and Bryon came running out. He jogged over to the truck and opened the back door.  As he slid in he said, “Hey guys, what's new?”

“Not much,” Russ said and pivoted to slap hands with Bryon. Russ turned forward again.

Bryon pulled the door closed and Mario said, “Where to?”

“Head up toward Saint Martin's park,” Bryon said, “So what have you guys been getting into?”

“Not much man,” Russ offered.

“You sounded a little off when we spoke,” Bryon replied.

“Nah, man, nothing. I'm cool.”

“Come on, tell the man,” Mario prompted. Russ looked over at Mario then back t Bryon. Bryon remained silent. Russ sighed and turned to Bryon.

“I went on a job interview. I thought I had everything they needed, as it turns out my military experience doesn't mean jack to them and the guy thought he was being nice by just bringing me in, even though he knew he wasn't going to give me the job before I came,” Russ exhaled in one long breath.

Bryon sat still for a moment while Mario continued to steer the car north. Then reflectively said, “Man..., that sucks.”

“I know,” Russ agreed.

“No really, I mean it. Shoot, I know the feeling. I got my associates from South Puget Sound Community and headed out into the real world,” Bryon made air quotes when he said 'real,' “But I ended up in the old trap of not being able to get a job without experience and can't get experience without a job.

“But I know why no one would give me a break. I'm a hood rat no matter my piece of paper. So now I do what I do. But you man, you went off and fought for our country. They totally ought to give you more than the benefit of the doubt. They ought to be kissing your ass.”

“I'm not saying I didn't want to tell that guy to kiss my ass,” Russ smiled, “But at the end of the day I don't need that. I just want a shot to prove I can be a leader here as much as over there.”

“Yeah,” chimed in Mario.

“I hear ya',” Bryon espoused.

Russ' grin grew and he said, “But tonight, I just want to have a little fun.”

Five minutes later they rolled up to a small single family, split level home fronted in brick and white siding. Bryon said, “Let me lead” as he hopped out of the car. Russ and Mario fell in behind him. The backyard to the house was enclosed in a four foot high chain link fence. Suddenly, from nowhere, a large dog like a cross between a Rottweiler and German Shepherd, slammed into the fence, snarling and snapping. Bryon jumped, both Mario and Russ simply pivoted and adopted a defensive stance. 

Bryon took a breath once he realized the dog was contained. He looked at Mario and Russ and said, “You two are the real deal, aren’t you. Nothing fazes you two does it?” Mario and Russ looked at each other.

Mario said, “Oh we can be phased, but it will take much more than a dog to do it.” Looking over at Russ he gave him a small nod and relaxed. Russ also resumed his easy going demeanor.

Bryon laughed to himself and led the way up to the door. He knocked with a shave-and-a-haircut cadence. Rustling could be heard from inside. Russ maintain a practiced vigil, looking like he was casually waiting for the door while scanning the area for any possible threat. He noticed a quick parting of the blinds in one of the upper bedrooms. Two eyes glanced down on the entry, then the blinds snapped close again.

Russ took a deep breath and set his body. To say he was tense was not accurate. Tense was tight and tight was slow. His body was fluid and relaxed, but ready to spring. Tense was nervous and nervous was stressed. Breath quickened, heart rate went up. But Russ’ breathing slowed, his heart rate dropped, getting for a smooth aim and trigger pull. Tense was scared and scared was sloppy. Russ’ mind started inventorying his surrounding, running the equations for attack points, escape routes, flanking paths and where the environment dictated force and where it dictated speed.

He glanced at Mario who picked up on his readiness. Russ could see Mario spinning his body up to the same level, not because he had seen anything, but because he knew Russ was and if Russ was there, he to needed to be too. They had spent too much time together, knowing they could always wind down, but not being ready, even for a moment could mean death. Instinctually they pivoted slightly to move back-to-back and each took to viewing half the full circle around them.

The front door finally clicked and cracked open slightly. Russ’ head swung toward the opening while Mario’s eyes swept behind them without being told. The yard was clear. A moment later the front door swung wide and a large, tattooed man, who had once been fit but was letting the edges soften stepped into the gap. He was bald but had a light brown goatee. A smile shot across his face and said, “Bryon, how are you?”

Bryon returned his grin and said, “I am great. How about you?”

Ignoring the question, the goateed man stepped out of the door and grasped Bryon's hand. They stepped to each other, then each man patted the other on the back before stepping back and releasing the hand shake. Looking Russ and Mario up and down, he said, “And who are these two?” Russ saw the man's hand drift toward his waistband. Internally Russ smiled, knowing if the man attempted to draw, Russ would have time to decide if he wanted to kill or incapacitate the man, then execute his move before the man moved the long hanging tee shirt.

“This is Russ, and this is Mario,” Bryon said, “They are the guys I'm partying with. They've been over in Afghanistan, just got back. Some douche bag rejected Russ here for a job today so we thought we'd go blow off some steam. Russ, Mario, this is Jeff Bloch.”

“That's cool,” Jeff said as he gave Mario and Russ a brief hello by nodding his chin slightly upward, “You guys want to come in and split or do you have room for one more? I know the good places to party here.”

Bryon turned and looked at Russ. Russ looked at Mario. Mario replied with the slightest raise of the eyebrow. Russ replied, “Sure, the more the merrier.”

“Excellent,” Jeff said as he turned in the house, “But let's go inside and get a little pre-party on.”

Bryon, Mario and Russ followed Jeff in the house. An hour later, a little high and a little drunk, the four men exited the house. Mario piloted them downtown to a club called The Brotherhood Lounge. Entering the club, the group was temporarily blinded by strobe lights and a laser show. Standing just inside the doorway, their eyes adjusted to the light and they saw the left side of the club was a bar, the right hand side had a few semi-circle booths, the front of the room had tables and chairs in the center while the back of the room was open and had a stage. The room was busy but not crowded. A DJ played Deadmau5 at a volume level that forced the men to lean into each other as they spoke.

Bryon headed toward the bar when Jeff caught his arm. “Nah man, we got a booth.” Bryon glanced over at the short row of booths noticing they all seemed occupied. He said nothing and followed Jeff as he headed toward the one closest to the stage. As they got closer to the booth, the occupants, an Asian man dressed in a garish outfit and an African-American man dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, both in their early twenties, grabbed their drinks and got up , standing next to the booth.

“Thanks guys,” Jeff said, giving a low five to the gaudily dressed Asian. The two men melted into the other patrons and Jeff slid into the booth, moving to the middle. Bryon slid in next to him and Russ and Mario each took a seat on the outside. A small, thin waitress appeared and asked, “What can I get for you?” through black bangs. “Four Buds, four Jagers,” Jeff said without asking anyone else. He tossed a folded up bill onto the waitress' cocktail tray. Russ initially thought it was simply a wadded up bill, then noticed, sticking out of one side, a tiny bit of baggie that Russ knew held coke. The waitress looked at it and perked up.

“We’ll be here for a while, keep 'em coming,” Jeff continued.

“I will,” the tiny waitress promised and scurried off. Bryon and Jeff slid down in the booth, relaxing. Russ and Mario sat much straighter and scanned the room, while seemingly relaxed.

“I wouldn't have said this is your crowd,” Bryon said to Jeff.

“Not my crowd, are you kidding me?” Jeff said with mock amusement. “Nah, I know what you mean. But, look around. These guys got no one to serve them. I stumbled in here one night, noticed no one was here to help these nice folks with their party supplies, so I stepped up.”

“I thought your product sold itself,” Russ said, stealing a glance at Jeff, then going back to scanning the room, “I know finding Bryon or you was my biggest concern. How many products have their customers looking for them.”

“Fair enough, but I need to be the first person they find. Users of my product are looking for what I have but they do tend to be a little lazy. Shoot, in some cities, you can get delivery to your door now. Plus, there are other worries. I know I could move all I got at some of the trendy clubs downtown, but here, while fewer customers, there is no competition. Unlike other products, my competitors don't eliminate the competition through aggressive marketing, they tend to use aggressive shooting. “

Russ did not say anything but nodded his head. The tiny waitress returned with her tray, her arm shook a nearly imperceptible amount as she held the weight on one arm. She used the other arm to set the drinks down on the table directly in front of her. Mario automatically reached out and started passing the beers, then the shots around to the men at the table.

Jeff raised his shot, the other men followed suit. “To a good night.”

Russ tilted the shot glass. As it touched his lips, he saw the movement. Without finishing the motion, he let go of the glass. It dropped straight down, spilling Jagermeister as it went. But rather than spill down his front, the liquid impacted his left hip as he stood and turned in a flash. His thigh clipped the edge of the table causing beers to spill over Bryon and Jeff, though not Mario, who himself was already moving behind Russ.

Russ used his legs to power himself toward the man approaching the table. He swept his arms up, not simply using his biceps but engaging his shoulders and back. His hands connected with the outstretched hands of the approaching man. The man’s hand held a gun which rushed up toward the ceiling just as it went off. The loud bang muffled the music for a moment and everyone froze.

Everyone that is except Mario and Russ. As Russ pinned the assailant’s arms up in the air, Mario used his full weight and momentum to tackle the gunman around the mid-section and ride him to the ground. Several small pops were heard as several of the assailant’s ribs cracked. The air rushed out of the man and he lost his grip on the weapon. Russ stepped over and kicked the weapon into the corner.

Mario dropped into a crouch, quickly unbuckled the attacker’s belt and used it to bind his hands. Russ scanned the room for other possible threats. None presented themselves so Russ relaxed a bit. The table rocked behind him and he whirled, tensing again. Instead of being another attacker, Jeff and Bryon were finally extricating themselves from the booth.

“Dude, man, that was amazing,” Jeff offered giving Russ a high-five he returned automatically.

“That man was going to kill us,” Bryon said.

“Me at least,” Jeff said.

“Yup, that appears to be the case,” Russ said calmly.

“No but seriously, I cannot thank you enough. Man, if you ever need anything, you gotta let me know,” Jeff said, offering another high-five.

Mario stood up and suggested, “Well, I’m thinking since we have all been doing illegal drugs, we should most likely get out of here, rather than waiting around for the police.”

“I agree,” Russ said and he headed for the door. Jeff reached into his pocket and dropped a few bills onto the table then Mario and Bryon followed him out of the bar. The four men piled into the truck. Mario fired up the engine and headed toward Jeff’s house.