Takedown (3 page)

She might've guessed my thoughts, because she said, “If you're willing to talk, we can keep a close eye on you and your family.”

Yeah, like a cruiser driving by a couple of times a day would protect us if I snitched.

“Half a kilo is serious, Darren,” she said. “You could spend several years in juvie, and then you could serve the remainder of your time in an adult prison. Is that worth it to you?”

I didn't answer. My stomach clenched, and it was all I could do not to throw up. I wanted to run away. Pretend none of this was happening.

But it was.

The Mission

Before I left juvie

I told the cops I had a plan

To bring down Diamond Tony

Number-one wanted man

They gave me some green, an ID number, and a phone

It was better than nothing

I would've done it on my own.

W
e got a problem on our hands,” Vinny said, looking around at his dealers. It was Friday at five, and we'd been called to an emergency meeting. “South Side Bloods are moving in on us.”

We all went quiet as we took in the news. Vinny was our lieutenant, the guy who connected us to Tony's operation. The moment I'd heard about the meeting, I knew something was up. Though Vinny was in charge of six dealers, I'd rarely been in the same room with the others.

Vinny was a former foster kid. His face had scars of a rough life, the kind that all the money in the world couldn't erase. He was
probably twenty-two, twenty-three, but half his teeth had silver caps, with a gold one at the front. I'd heard that Diamond Tony's operation snatched him up young and raised him as their own. Tony's choices were never random. Vinny was smart, but not so smart he'd ever question Tony. And Vinny was loyal—how could you not be when you got pulled from the gutter? Even if he came off as cocky, that didn't bother anyone. You could tell he was trying so hard to be somebody.

Vinny's town house was full of classy furniture and high-tech gadgets, but we were down in his basement for the meeting, which had a musty smell and saggy old couches.

“The Bloods ain't gonna take away our business,” T-Bone said, waving his hand like he was swatting at a fly. “Our fiends know we got the raw product. What they got is weak.”

Vinny shook his head. “Not anymore. They got good shit now. Some are saying it's better than ours. And they been dropping their prices to undercut us.”

I was surprised Vinny was admitting that another operation could have a product as potent as Diamond Dust. It was a crack-cocaine so pure, so gleaming white, that once you got hooked, you could never be satisfied with anything else. Tony had managed to do what every businessman dreamed of. He'd created a product that people literally couldn't live without.

“If I see one of their dealers in our territory, I'll take him out.” Albert put a hand to his side, showing he was strapped. “DT fought hard for his territory. Brothers died for this. We ain't giving up a single corner.”

“Don't go shooting anybody unless you have to, hear me?” Vinny said. “The cops are watching us. That's how Pup got caught. DT says we have to go dark for a while, which means no shoot-outs.”

That didn't mean no
shooting
, just not in public. Diamond Tony didn't do diplomacy.

“So what am I supposed to do when I see the Bloods around?” Albert demanded.

“Ask them to kindly move along,” Cam said in an old-lady voice, and we all laughed.

Cam was my dealing partner. We'd grown up together in the neighborhood, so I was glad when Vinny had put us together. Cam was a dropout and a heavy weed smoker with a talent for imitating people. Even when he mimicked the neighborhood assholes, they were too impressed to get pissed off. He had a huge mop of red hair and the words “Thug Life” tattooed on his arm—the only white guy I knew with a tattoo like that.

Cam's comment might've made us laugh, but like everybody else, he was waiting for an answer to Albert's question.

Vinny didn't seem to have one. “Don't do shit without calling
me, a'ight? I gotta check everything with DT. He's counting on his soldiers to keep it locked. Can y'all handle that?”

Everybody nodded. Their chests puffed out. They liked being Diamond Tony Walker's street soldiers. They liked working for a legend.

The guys started talking about how weak the South Side Bloods were, but I was only half listening. The Bloods were ballsy to make a play for Diamond Tony's territory. It must be their new leader, Andre. He'd been Pistol's top lieutenant and had taken over after Pistol died. Andre was known for being calculating and fearless—he'd have to be to take on Tony. And he had more lives than a cat. Rumor had it he'd been shot five different times.

I bet Andre's play for Walker territory was more than just business. It was revenge for Pistol's murder. I was sure that a lot of people secretly wanted to see Diamond Tony go down, but they didn't have the courage to do anything about it.

The thought made me smile. I was doing some
real
community service.

Vinny brought us pizza and wings but told us to eat fast so we could get to our corners. It was incredible how happy the guys were when they saw the spread. For all the money we made for Tony, we should've been given cars, not pizza and wings.

By six we were wiping our hands and getting up from the
saggy couches. When we headed upstairs, there were some guys in the living room.

One of them was Diamond Tony.

My skin prickled. I'd never seen him up close and never without his sunglasses. I glanced away quickly, but not before I caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were dead, glassy. The eyes of a sociopath. I wondered if that was why he always wore sunglasses—so people wouldn't see who he really was.

He didn't look like the kingpins you saw on TV. He didn't dress to get attention. He always wore a clean, crisp outfit. Tonight, it was white and blue Enyce with shoes that were brand-new. If you looked closely, you saw the signs of wealth: the diamond in his ear, the diamond-studded infinity symbol around his neck. Some people thought that's how he got his name. But when you saw Diamond Dust sparkle in the sunlight, you knew that's where it came from.

There were two huge guys with him, obviously his security, and two of his executives, Marcus and Donut. Marcus gave off this cold, remote vibe that reminded me of a robot. Programmed to do whatever Tony wanted, no doubt.

Vinny walked into the living room and gestured for us to follow. “Here they are.”

Diamond Tony got up. We all stood up straighter, like military
recruits waiting for inspection. He looked us over, one by one, and when he got to me, he paused thoughtfully. “Darren Lewis,” he said.

Blood rushed in my ears.
Is he onto me?

“Soldier,” he said, and clapped a hand on my shoulder before moving on to the next guy. I was sure I was pitted with sweat.

After he'd looked over the last guy, Diamond Tony sat back down. “You told them?” he asked Vinny.

“I told them. You got solid soldiers here, Tony. They're gonna make you proud.”

Tony didn't take his eyes off us. “Of course they will.” In true Diamond style, it was both a vote of confidence and a threat.

Then Vinny sent us out into the night.

C
am and I went to our corner in front of the 17 high-rise. It took a while for my pulse to slow down. How had Tony recognized me? We'd never actually met. I'd seen him a few times, but I hadn't thought he'd noticed me.

Obviously I was wrong about that.

Maybe he didn't stay as far in the background as I imagined. Who knew how many times he'd driven by our corner, watching through some tinted-windowed SUV?

I didn't like it.

When I was fifteen, I would've been excited that Diamond Tony knew who I was. But I wasn't a dumb kid anymore. Now
I knew the game he was playing, and I saw right through him.

I just hoped he couldn't see through me.

Tonight the fiends were out in full force. Reminded me of a zombie movie. They were slow but jittery, dragging themselves toward us. Sometimes I had to remind myself that they weren't the walking dead.

Growing up in the projects, I knew what addiction looked like. But selling on the corner night after night really brought the ugly home. I saw normal people become strung-out fiends in a matter of weeks.

The creepiest zombie was this guy called the Vet. He wore a raggedy green army jacket and told everybody he'd fought in Afghanistan. He was skinny as hell, with sunken eyes and sores.

The Vet came up to me with mostly change from panhandling. I counted it and put it in my pocket, then gave Cam the signal and he supplied him. We watched the Vet shuffle away. Cam pulled a face. I could tell the Vet freaked him out too.

“You going to the party later?” Cam asked me.

“Yeah.” Smalls had been talking about his party all week, so I figured I'd go.

“Tell your sister to come,” Cam said with a grin. “I'm aching to get laid.”

“She'd help you out, but she'd need a gas mask to put up with your stank.”

Cam laughed.

After we did the final exchange of the night with Vinny, we headed to the party. The apartment was jammed with people. It was dark, lit only with purple lightbulbs, and the air reeked of weed and cognac cigarillos.

Cam saw a pothead friend and said, “Catch ya later.” Then he headed for one of the bedrooms. I grabbed a bottle of Scotch off the dining room table. White Chris always said it was your choice of liquor that separated the men from the boys. Too bad I had to drink it from a red plastic cup.

A cute Vietnamese girl caught my eye, and I smiled at her. She smiled back, then whispered something to her friend, who seemed to be urging her to approach me. I wanted to tell her friend not to rush it. I hadn't scoped the whole place yet.

I made my way to the kitchen, where a bunch of people were talking about last night's game. Vinny was already there, no surprise. He showed up anywhere that people paid attention to him, even if it was a party of mostly high school kids. Maybe he was looking for a new girl. Or, if the rumors were true, two or three girls.

Vinny saw me and gave a shout-out. I raised my cup to him.

Eventually I went back to the living room. It was too loud to talk much, so I just stood next to Smalls and we watched the girls dancing.

Then I spotted Jessica sipping from a shot glass. It was too dark to see the look in her eyes when she saw me, but I knew the second she did—something in her posture changed, like she'd suddenly snapped awake. I liked that I had that effect on her.

The music pumped through my veins like a drug. My foot moved forward as if to go to her, but I froze. It wasn't the best time to start something with Jessica. I didn't need anything, or anyone, taking my mind off the game, and school was enough of a distraction.

But the part of me that had been locked up for two years said she was exactly what I needed.

The next thing I knew, I was right in front of Jessica. Her eyes were level with my chest, but she tipped her head up. The makeup on her eyelids sparkled.

She might've said, “Hi,” but I could hardly hear anything. The throbbing music had vocals—loud, heavy vocals.

She went on her tiptoes, and I felt her breath in my ear. “I was hoping you'd show up.”

I raised a brow. “You wanted to see my dance moves.”

Jessica laughed and flipped her hair. She usually straightened it, but tonight it was big and curly. As usual, she smelled like heaven. “You learned some new moves in juvie?”

“Yeah, total dance party. Makes you never want to leave.”

Her smile faded. “Everyone was pissed off that you got put
away for so long.” I thought she might say more, but then she shrugged. “You've got some partying to make up for.”

“I'll need your help for that.”

The outside world vanished, and it was just me and her. She did most of the dancing, but she let me move with her. We kept looking at each other and smiling, her eyes the only real light in the darkness.

I had the urge to laugh. Four months out of juvie, and here I was dancing with Jessica Thomas. I couldn't believe it.

I'm not sure when it all ended, but in the early hours of the morning, I dragged myself home with Jessica's number programmed into my phone. And I fell asleep in my clothes, covered in the scent of Jessica.

S
unday afternoon I met up with Prescott at the Shanghai Palace in the fancy Yorkville shopping district. I didn't think he had a shift today, but it didn't matter. He was a twenty-four-seven kind of cop.

The restaurant was half-full, and everything inside was red and brassy. There were five dishes of food on the table. He'd already started eating when I got there. Still, it was better than the cookie and iced tea he usually got me.

“I need a favor, Darren,” he said, flashing some half-chewed chow mein. “A big one.”

“Go on.” I loaded up my plate.

Prescott leaned closer, probably more for effect than because he thought anyone was listening. Our table was in the back corner near the kitchen. There was a fly caught between the curtain and the window, buzzing away. I was tempted to squash it.

“They're putting pressure on me, Darren. The chief wants to break the drug trade in this city wide open, and he wants to do it before the election. I need to know how the coke's getting in.”

“I'll be watching,” I said between bites. “That's all I can promise.” The food was tasty. There was actually chicken in the chicken balls, not the mystery meat you got in my neighborhood.

“Any of the executives could be doing the drug runs,” he said. “I doubt Tony Walker would trust anyone else with that kind of money. Whoever does it will probably have another guy or two with him for security. Not that it makes a difference. If the Demon's Sons want to take them out, they'll do it.”