Takedown (18 page)

Tony snorted. “They ain't.”

My gut tightened. Tony was going to shoot up a public place. Taking revenge on the Bloods responsible for the drive-by was one thing, but catching innocent people in the crossfire was another. I couldn't let that happen.

“We've got floor plans of their main hangouts,” Marcus told us. “All we need is half an hour's notice, and our guys are good to go.”

Damn. If it was a last-minute thing, how would I ever stop it?

There was only one option I could think of.

“I want to . . .” My voice sounded weak, so I cleared my throat. “I want to be there.”

Tony shook his head. “I want to keep my execs' hands clean. No unnecessary risks.” He turned back to Marcus as if the conversation was over.

I didn't let it go. “Those fuckers shot my girl in cold blood. I want to be there. I want to pull the trigger myself.”

“You used a semiauto before?” Tony asked.

“No.”

He smiled. “It don't matter. It's mad easy.” He pretended to
pull a trigger with his index finger. “You just squeeze and—pop, pop, pop!”

The execs laughed.

“Okay, Darren,” Tony said. “I respect that you want to do the job yourself.” There was a glint of admiration in his eyes. “Fact is, I'm the same way.”

W
hen Jessica woke up, I was there, holding her hand.

At first, her eyes seemed lost, searching for something. But then they found a point to focus on: me.

“Jessica.” I touched her cheek. “I missed you so much.”

She was looking right at me, but her expression didn't change. It was like she was in a different world. That was the medication, I reminded myself. They were keeping her heavily sedated so she wouldn't be in pain.

“It'll be okay, I promise. I know you can't talk because of the ventilator, but you'll be able to soon. We have to be patient.” I patted her hand. “Can you feel that?”

She blinked. I wondered if that meant something.

“Just sit tight. Everyone says you're doing great.”

She didn't respond. I had no idea if she could hear me.

I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Jessica.”

Her eyes closed.

I
t was Vinny who took me to get a gun. He seemed excited, like he was showing his little brother how to play ball for the first time.

“Our guys usually get their guns off the streets,” he explained in the car. “Not us execs. We go to the best place in town. Most gangstas live their whole lives in this city and don't even know this guy exists.”

“This guy” was called Gallinger. We met him at his hardware store in North York. He had big shoulders, graying blond hair, and little round glasses. He wore a checkered shirt and jeans under a red apron.

The only other employee in the store looked like a younger version of Gallinger, maybe his son. He glanced at us for a second, then went back to showing a customer some paint samples.

Gallinger's real business was two floors below the hardware store, down a maze of concrete halls. He stopped in front of a massive steel door, which he opened using a key card. We found ourselves in a huge gray room full of guns. Long guns of every description were mounted on the walls, while handguns were in glass cases. They were perfectly displayed and labeled, like exhibits in a museum.

I looked around in awe. “How'd you get all this in here?” I asked.

Gallinger scowled at Vinny, who said to him quickly, “Don't pay him no mind.”

The old guy wasn't impressed. “What do we want?”

Vinny started talking in gun lingo. Brand names, numbers, rpm. I caught the words “easy” and “semiautomatic.”

I was going to have a gun. It was just for show, of course, since Kessler and I had a plan to stop the massacre, but I still didn't like it. All I knew was, our plan had better work or a lot of people would die.

I snapped awake as a silver gun was handed to me. I tested the weight. It felt heavy, cold.

“Easy. Fast. Guaranteed to never jam,” Gallinger said.

“How does it feel?” Vinny asked me.

“Powerful.”

Vinny smiled, flashing his gold teeth. “We'll take it.”

I reached for my wallet, but Vinny shook his head. “Trust me, you ain't got enough cash in there to pay for a weapon like this.” He said to Gallinger, “Tony's account.”

Gallinger nodded.

“We need ammo, too,” Vinny added, giving me a wink. “Lots of it.”

T
he call finally came at eleven thirty Saturday night.

“Late show. Fifteen minutes. Wait outside.” Marcus hung up.

I called Kessler. “They're picking me up in fifteen minutes. I've got the cell on me. You're sure you can track it with the GPS?”

“We're on it. And, Darren, if things go wrong, get out of there.”

“I hear you.”

Since I was already dressed, there was nothing to do but leave. And take the gun with me.

It wasn't long before an old Chevy pulled up. When I got in, the guys were pumped up, and so was the radio. As I'd suspected,
the Cuz were in the car. The driver was Ashtray, a member of Tony's security entourage.

“How close are we?” I asked above the music.

“Seven minutes, maybe,” Tyrell shouted from the passenger seat. “You ready? I heard you ain't popped nobody before.”

“One of those motherfuckers shot my girlfriend. My finger ain't gonna shake on the trigger.”

“Amen to that!” Ashtray said.

The Cuz were high. I could tell from their wild eyes, the way they bounced in their seats. I wasn't surprised. Diamond Dust made a man feel invincible and gave him permission to do vicious things.

As the night flashed by the window, I kept waiting for a police car to stop us. I wasn't sure if it would be a marked or unmarked car.

With every second that passed, I got more nervous.

What if the cops didn't come through? What would I do then?

“Two minutes, boys,” said Ashtray, pressing pedal to metal.

Two minutes.
My internal panic button switched on.
Where the fuck are the cops?

“Two minutes till showtime!” Tyrell pulled out a sleek silver gun. It was a nice piece, sophisticated like mine. Probably from Gallinger's. Something clicked in my brain.

“Sweet semiauto,” I shouted over the front seat.

Tyrell threw a worried look over his shoulder. “Don't go telling you-know-who about it, 'kay? I'm not supposed to still have it.”

“Yo, slow up a bit, Ash!” Remy shouted from next to me. “We don't want to get stopped.”

“A'ight, a'ight. How about this?” Ashtray came to a full stop at the next stop sign. “Y'all ready? It's that building half a block—”

A siren wailed as an unmarked cop car drove up behind us.

“What the fuck?” Tyrell called out.

“Oh shit.” Ashtray started up slow, like he was taking his driver's test. “Do I pull over?”

“Go go go!” Tyrell barked. “They find these guns and we're fucked!”

Ashtray slammed on the brakes, causing the cop cruiser to rear-end us. Then he floored the gas. The tires screeched as he plowed forward, taking a right and blasting down the street.

I grabbed on to the seat in front of me as we took another corner. We lost the cops quickly, but Ashtray drove around for another few minutes to make sure. Eventually, he pulled to a stop in the lot where Diamond Tony kept his extra cars.

I breathed a sigh of relief. The tracker on my cell had worked. The Blood bath had been stopped.

For now.

A
n hour later, we were at the stash house with Diamond Tony, Marcus, and Vinny.

I'd never seen Tony so pissed. He looked at Ashtray. “How the fuck did you get pulled over half a block from the club?”

Ashtray shrank back. “I dunno. Just a bad coincidence.”

“Fuck coincidences.” Tony advanced on him. Ashtray was tall and stocky, but when Tony got close, he cowered. “You hear me? I don't believe in coincidences.”

We had our backs to the wall like we were waiting for a firing squad. “Why did you get pulled over?” Tony's eyes landed on me. “Darren?”

“It's hard to tell. Cops are everywhere these days. Everybody's getting stopped.”

His nostrils flared. “Come over here, Darren. You're an exec.” I went over to stand with Marcus and Vinny. What a relief. He turned on Ashtray again. “You were speeding, weren't you?”

“Not much. I mean, I was driving normal. Going the speed limit makes us way more suspicious. But Remy told me to slow up.”

Tony got in Remy's face. “You told him to slow up?”

“Yeah. I didn't wanna get stopped.”

“It ain't about me going too fast or too slow,” Ashtray said. “Darren's right—everybody's getting stopped for no reason.”

Tony's hands were clenched at his sides. “I don't like fuckups. We'll try again another time. And if it don't go down like I think it should, somebody's gonna pay. You hear me?”

They all nodded.

“Now get out of my sight.” He waved a hand and they bolted out of there. “All they had to do was go in there and pull the trigger. Fuck!”

We said nothing, just watched him as he paced. When he stopped, he focused on Marcus. “Maybe we should do it ourselves. I need to know these Bloods are gonna taste bullets.”

Marcus shook his head. “Too big and messy a job, Tony.”

He paced some more. “You're right.”

“Fuckups happen,” Marcus assured him. “You know the Cuz will come through.”

Tony's eyes settled on me. “We'll get this thing done, Darren. For your girl. For my execs. We'll get it done. But next time, I don't want you involved.” When he saw that I was about to argue, he put up his hand. “If you'd been pulled over, you could be sitting on weapons charges right now. I ain't risking another exec.”

I was silent.

“What do y'all think about Remy?” he asked. “Think he's loyal? See, what I just heard was that he told Ashtray to slow the car just before the cops showed up. That right, Darren?”

“Guess so.”

“That's some timing, don't you think?”

“You think he's snitching?” Vinny asked.

“Maybe. I don't trust anyone but my execs.”

With any luck, that would be Tony's downfall.

T
he next night, I went to Kessler's apartment.

“Darren.” She'd been expecting me and waved me in quickly. She must have just gotten back from work, since she was still wearing office clothes and an ID badge. Judging from the bags under her eyes, she was worn out.

“You did well last night,” she said. “Did Walker suspect anything?”

“He has some suspicions about one of the guys, but I don't think it'll come to anything. We convinced him it was a random stop.”

“Good.”

We sat down.

“I'm sure they'll try again soon,” she said.

“They will, unless we can throw them off.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I think I know where the gun is that killed Prescott.”

She gasped. “You do?”

“Tyrell has it. He's one of the Cuz, those cousins who do dirty jobs for Tony. He was planning to use it for the attack on the Bloods. He told me not to tell Tony that he still had it. It's got to be the murder weapon.”

“I'll get a search warrant for Tyrell's place. We'll find that gun.”

I hated to dampen her hope, but I said, “Even if you find it, I don't think Tyrell's gonna rat on Tony. He's a thug through and through.”

“When he's given a choice between life without parole and a reduced sentence, he'll choose what's good for him.”

I shook my head. “You don't know this guy. He'll be afraid that if he gives up Tony, he'll be dead before he has a chance to testify. How are you gonna keep him safe in prison? And what about his family on the outside?”

She thought about it. “We'll offer all the protection we can. It's a cop-killer case, so that'll give us leverage. I can get some security for his family, at least for a couple of weeks. I'll keep his cousin Remy out of the mix entirely, if that's what it takes. I could get Tyrell transferred out of town, somewhere beyond Tony's reach. It's more than the scumbag deserves, but Ed would want Tony put away.”

She was right about that.

W
hen I first saw Jessica smile, I knew she was back. The light was in her eyes again.

Within twenty-four hours she was off the ventilator and able to talk.

“The nurse says you're doing amazing,” I told her. It was early evening, a week after my debriefing with Kessler, and I had some spare time before I had to go back to the stash house. “I bet you're the strongest patient they've ever seen.”

“That's me.” Her voice was still shaky. “A medical miracle.”

“Seriously, you should give yourself some credit. You bounced back fast.”

“Not fast enough for me.” Her face looked tight, and I knew she was in pain. I offered her the pump for more drugs, but she didn't take it. “I'm fine. I want to stay awake. Did you ask about the TV? Every channel is fuzzy.”

Jessica hated to get behind on her favorite shows. It was a good sign. “The lady at the desk took care of it. It should be working already. Want to watch something?”

“It's okay. It's just for when I'm alone.”

When I'm alone.
I knew she didn't mean anything by it, but it made me wish that I could be with her more. I hated that I'd let her down so much in the past, and now, when she really needed me, where was I? Working for Tony. No way I'd tell her that I'd become an executive.