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The City Of Angels, Spring 2008
(Note: Part 5 ran seven pages, which was longer than I like. Part 6 is longer, so I have subdivided it.)
For this section:
Chapters 42, 43 and 45 include violence. Bad things happen to bad folks.
Chapter 46 includes sex.
This is a work of fiction. However, the record supports the historical references below (Mongols, Mandela).
*****
Chapter 41. Questions
Friday Shortly After Midnight
During the drive Sara called the soldiers about setting things up, she wanted to do the entrance interviews right away, before anybody slept. She figured a half hour each; prisoners would set up in one room while she was talking in another.
I wanted Sara in a mask (as all the other were), but she said that was a barrier and would not work. She consented to a short blond wig and glasses for the interviews, but that was as far as she would go.
Sara got a lot quickly.
The first interview was the Mustang driver. He did not get the necklace lecture, he was just told he was being held by criminals, and then asked his name. It was like a dam bursting. He talked, so much the Sara had to tell him his time was up, there were others waiting. He thanked her. The third interview, with his girl, went the same way.
In each case except the Mustang driver and his female spotter Sara started with a short history lesson.
"Winnie Mandela was the great man's wife. During the '80s, she spoke of using 'our boxes of matches and our necklaces' against her enemies. Do you know what a necklace is? One forces a tire filled with gasoline around the torso and arms. Then sufficient lit matches are added. Winnie was convicted in the necklace death of a 14-year old. Now, you tried to kill our Jefe. Somebody got you to do that, but he planned poorly, so here you are. We have a necklace for you. If you talk, you might avoid the necklace. If you are innocent you might even walk free again. I will decide the order and timing of the necklaces. I have no questions for you today."
The Ninos were also told about the "hellmouth" which would suck in their soul and end their reboots.
The second interview was the big Shark, Chiggs Martin. After the lecture Sara told the big guy his name and birth date, plus that he was a bodyguard for the Sharks. This shook him up, in his mind it meant the other Shark had already betrayed him. Then she said, "You know, a big good-looking guy like you could be a real problem. We don't have any solitary confinement or really any punishments. So I will tell you what; the first time you get out of line physically we will knock you out with drugs and cut those big biceps off completely. You will eat well after that, lots of hamburger helper." Her grin sold it, the threat shook him to the core. She stood up and carefully looked at all of him, admiring his naked body. "Maybe, if this works out, we can meet again under better conditions."
Then she said she had a question for him, "to confirm, what is the name of the other Shark?"
Chiggs gave it up; he said the guy was named Pat Koch, although he usually pronounced it as "fat cock."
Sara laughed. "I assure you, you are the biggest. His lie is pretty obvious and pathetic."
Then she asked if Koch had a woman, Chiggs laughed and said the only women Koch knew were those he raped, none of the prostitutes would have him because of his behavior and complete lack of hygiene. Chiggs added that he had never heard Koch say a civil phrase to any woman, "not even Doria!" who he called "the boss's bed bitch" in private.
Doria was the smart and very attractive teenage daughter of the Sharks leader.
Sara ended the talk. Chiggs knew Koch was a weasel who thought he was smart and Chiggs was dumb. But maybe, if the lady liked him - she had called him good-looking and admired his muscles, all of which she saw - he could avoid the nasty necklace.
From that point on, Mr. Chiggs Martin was a model prisoner.
The fourth interview was with Koch. He was moved from a regular room to the torture room, and placed in the Star Wars chair. He smiled when Sara walked in the room, so she hit "2" (out of 5) on his genital shocker, "just for what you are thinking." The guy screamed far more than was called for. She looked at him for a few minutes, gave the lecture. They she used his named and read his tats. He was still only one step above a teen-age newbie in the gang ranks. She mentioned Chigg's name and said it was unlikely that both would leave here alive. She pointed to one of the fittings in the chair and said, "This one is for when I want to piss down your throat," she said as she sipped a coke. Then she said, "I don't want to talk to you any more," and left the room. The guy spent another hour in the torture chair looking at the implements before they came and got him. As he was being wheeled back to his cell she "happened to walk by" with a cattle prod. He kept his head down but when he turned to look at her from kaçak iddaa behind she applied the cattle prod, then walked away without a word.
The two ninos from the car screamed abuse, but since they would die first it really did not matter.
The two ninos from the house did not say a word. Sara just gave the necklace lecture, then left.
The Captain and I watched all the interviews and thought Sara did a great job, especially with Chiggs. Then the three of us talked about what we had learned.
The two free lancers were terrified and helpful. Emily and Ron were both in their mid 20's. They were not lovers in the traditional sense, but more like close step-brother/sister with benefits. They met when his stepmother and her biological mother lived together in Canada. The women lived together for 8 years but never married, then they broke up to go their own ways. Both kids were over 18 at the breakup and felt abandoned so they decided to strike out for Seattle. They had kicked around the western US and Canada ever since. Last year they tried LA hoping for some sun. They usually shared a bed (saving money), but they only had manual, oral and anal sex when they were horny; that was the extent of their 'benefits' because they considered themselves relatives. They both dated and screwed others, and were know to share, but they could not hold a lover or a job.
Darnel (they picked his picture out of a six-pack) snared them by giving them some cocaine when he met them in a Venice park last weekend. He said he had a driving job, it paid $500 a day, which was $100 cash at the end of each day and the rest when the job was done. He threw in a bump of coke each day plus a bedroom and meals in the house. They did not like the ninos or the Sharks who stayed there so mostly they went to the park south of the forest. After they started they never saw Darnel again; everything went through post-its from "the short cock guy" at the house.
They started driving Sunday night in sort of a split shift. At night they were out for 4 hours looking for my car - orbiting the area. Then at 10 in the morning they did a half hour route checking for dead drops from the spies. They made a list, after four morning runs they had it memorized. It was something for Knife333 to use.
The big reveal for the day was the description Darnel gave them for my car. He said it was a late model Crown Vic or Marquis (he had pictures) that was black, dark blue, dark grey or dark green. The plate was fuzzier, he said it started with a "P" or "R" and ended with "Q" or maybe an "O." After the first letter was one, two or three letters, likely a combination of "M" "N" or "W." Then came two other letters or numbers, "4" "5" or "S" but he was not sure of the order. Both Ron and Emily quoted the same formula of letters and numbers from Darnel.
Vicky is dark blue Crown Vic and the plate is PNM45Q, with an address in San Jose. They had a good enough match to spot me, but now I knew that Darnel did not have the exact license plate. His police mechanic must have tried different combinations; their computers allow wildcards so that was not a stretch, but wildcards meant many more hits that were not me. About 396 by my count. So he had to eliminate a lot of numbers by other means like address, or combinations not issued. Plus, if he eliminated based on address, he would eliminate San Jose, and therefore Vicky's actual plate.
In any event, I placed a call to have Vicky painted white (my least favorite color). It was already scheduled to be in the shop next Tuesday for repair after the rear-end hit and to have the gun removed, painting added a day.
There was one other item: both Emily and Ron were anxious to "be helpful" in any way they could. Ron wondered if we could use a trustee or cook or a cleanup guy. Emily made her offer overtly sexual, she said she was willing to "be friendly with one or even two guards at a time," if it would help. This may have come from the fact that we kept them naked except for the shock devices and chains. She had not seen any faces except Sara.
Sara's first reaction was to let them go. I agreed, but it was a problem because we were miles away from everywhere. I also wanted to keep them for attitude adjustment and anything they might confirm from the others. We saw how they needed each other so we agreed they could spend a half hour a day alone together "in the yard" (the central courtyard, with no exit) but they had to wear leg chains. They would also be miked. When Sara told them they were overjoyed, and both suggested a willingness to service her sexually as a "thank you." I was guessing they paid for a lot of things with sex.
We agreed that Sara had found the perfect buttons to push on Chiggs. He would give us all he could in time, but he probably did not have that much. I did not see an urgent need to burn him.
Koch the other Shark might have more, otherwise his presence did not make sense. Sara found him odious, she wanted him kaçak bahis second on the necklace list, but that was an emotional reaction. We penciled him in at fifth place for now.
Sara thought there might be a chance to get something from "Don" and "Phil" which is what she named the ninos from the house, after the Everly Brothers "because they might sing." She said that toasting a Shark (like Koch) ahead of them might give her the break she needed to reach them. I agreed to keep an open mind on the subject.
The first necklace would be Friday night, after sundown. It would be "Gun Boy" using the thermite, and a bit of drama before we began. We would put both the Sharks and other 3 ninos in a circle, and roll out a tire for each. Then we would bring out "Gun Boy," already gagged with tape. He would be stood up with a pole and fitted with his tire. I would add gas, light him up, and let them all sit for about an hour after he was done, to think about it. The thermite fire could not be extinguished, but it would burn out soon enough.
The Sharks had nobody to talk to. Friday night, before anybody talked to them again, they would see somebody die horribly. They would know they could be next. They would both ask themselves, what loyalty did they owe to Darnel and their gang? Also, they had no idea who we were. There could be some long-term benefit there.
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Chapter 42. Mark Calls.
Friday 5 AM
Shortly after our talk ended I got the phone call from Mark on the cell phone I gave Gracie for him. He sounded very upset. I moved out of the sleeping area, to the prison. I was about to speak when suddenly there was a scream of agonizing pain - I guessed Sara was working on Koch, for her own benefit. She hated her work and wanted to move it along, so she kept pressure on the guy. The cells are soundproof, but there is a direct sound pipe that can be opened exactly for this purpose. The place was really a well designed as a prison run by criminals.
"What the hell was that?" Mark asked. These custom phones didn't have "mute" buttons. Even with voice distortion on the sound was clear. "Are you torturing some poor devil?"
I stepped into an interrogation room. "You do not want to know. You used one of your calls for this. Why?"
"You were right and I did not take you seriously, I should have seen the danger. I just assumed you were a paranoid street gang member puffing himself up," he said in a tone that took all the blame for something bad that he didn't do.
"What happened?" I asked. "Start at the start. I assume this was after Gracie left with my friend?" Well, he knew I had orchestrated that part. He knew his trackers were halfway to La Paz by now.
"You have strange... well, never mind. After I lost Gracie I went to Brenda's house and put in some more cameras..."
"Brenda?" I honestly had no idea.
"Brenda was my ex-wife, Gracie's mother." I caught his use of the past tense but did not comment. "I had a key and wasn't seen. I also posted a two-man team on the house 24-7. I'm a fool and it is pure luck they did not get killed. Brenda and her husband got home today... that is yesterday, Thursday... 9 hours ago." He was confused. This was a guy who was cool under pressure, but he was clearly shaken by his ex-wife's fate. "Shortly after they arrived a truck for the cable company pulls up and parks. My guys don't know that Brenda hates all cable companies; one was her biggest investing loss. The truck sits 10 minutes then leaves. My guys figured they used directional microphones and IR (Infra-Red) cameras to see who was home. That means the bastards knew Brenda's flight schedule. How could they?"
"You are a dumb ex-cop who does not bribe or intimidate people or offer them drugs or girls and you could have gotten the flight info, right? People are so helpful when you push the right buttons. Darnel is a master at picking the right buttons. Plus he has a total lack of scruples."
"Okay, I know that now. Anyway, a little later, just after dark, more guys pull up. A new Camaro and a big unmarked van pull into the driveway. They just sat for a minute, then a guy got out of the car and rang the doorbell. My guys didn't know what to do. Turns out one of the neighbors called 911 as soon as the van turned in the drive... it violated some stupid zoning law. The response time was 90 seconds, but you know what? For a charge of 'unsightly van' only one radio car came. Before the cops were out of the car guys in masks and body armor poured out of the van and shot them up with automatic weapons. One guy yanked the dead cop out of the driver seat so he could move the squad car. Everybody else went into the house. They were quick and brutal, they shot Brenda's husband straight off and grabbed Brenda. I had overcome my revulsion and placed cameras in the bedroom. They cut off her clothes, stuck her a few times with small knives in painful but non-lethal places and finally started to ask her where Gracie was. She had no idea. illegal bahis They asked again. Then they heard the SWAT sirens."
"How did SWAT know?" I asked.
SWAT doesn't show up anyplace at the start, they are the LAPD closers, a last resort. Always late to the party, you can count on it. That is by design because they generate so much paperwork.
"My guys. One is ex-LAPD and knows the SWAT Captain... called him as soon as they shot the cops. Swat was close due to a training exercise. When the sirens came all heck broke loose."
"Any guys still outside?" It was a logical question.
"Just the driver in the Camaro, he tried to drive but was blocked in by the van, so he jumped out of the car and ran through the back yard before SWAT pulled up. My second guy, a probie, followed him and earned his pay."
That was the moment when I knew what this call was about - straight-arrow Mark was stuck on a bridge with a 200-pound weight as he considering crossing over to the dark side. He wanted to do a quick over-and-back to keep his hands clean but the dark side does not work that way. Right now, in between, he was at the most risk and he knew it. I just had to let him find the way or I would scare him into something stupid, like going to the cops. "What about inside the house?"
"One guy was cool, he kept questioning Brenda. He shot her up with some drug and had a 5-gallon bottle of water along, but he didn't have time for either. When they heard SWAT everybody else took defensive positions. As soon as the truck pulled up they started shooting. SWAT shot back - and because of the call from my guy they had better body armor. When a stray bullet killed Brenda the guy asking the questions flipped out. He drew two Uzi pistols with custom double stack mags and charged out the front door, shooting. He had better armor, there were a lot of impacts from SWAT but he didn't go down until the sniper put a round in his eye."
"Tuccos..." I said. "... Darnel hired guys from the Tuccos motorcycle gang to squeeze your ex-wife. It is worse than you can imagine. How many guys in total?"
"How do you know that?"
"The dual Uzis and a new Camaro is a trademark of Marzz, their maximum asshole of a warlord. A serious psycho..." says the pot about the kettle. "Everything else fits."
I told Mark the Tuccos were a small motorcycle club, about 25 members. Rumor was you had to kill an outlaw biker to get in so other outlaw bikers hunted them. They never showed their colors unless they were all present, armed and looking for blood. All are ex-military and favored heavy automatic weapons. I was betting that now they were down one-third of their membership and were looking for Darnel's head because it seemed too much like a trap; the SWAT response time said they were set up. Mark's head was next on their list. I was glad Gracie was out of the state.
"You... you have dealt with these animals?"
"Hell no, they are insane." (I know insane when I see it, like every morning when I shave.) "I know to avoid mad dogs. Sometimes you learn things so you can avoid them. By the way, you know it means you are next?"
"How...?"
"Your close tie to Brenda and Gracie is a matter of public record. Do you think that, after spending over a half million dollars on this, Darnel will back off? With Tuccos asking questions he thinks he needs Gracie even more now so you are up next. Do you have a marine base you can live on? Anyway, how did the battle turn out?"
"SWAT killed all seven who were there. Four cops took minor wounds securing the scene. Plus the two dead of course."
"That means it was a $100,000 hit, or $150,000 if it was a twofer that included Gracie."
"How can you know that?"
"I have an idea what they charge from... never mind. They are lousy on defense, they can't protect folks like bodyguards. It always ends badly." It was true, we all needed free-lancers on occasion, and sometimes a battle depends on who shoots first. Other times not shooting is the better idea.
"My guys can protect me... wait, you said $100K for this hit, after you said a half million dollars. What the..." His confusion was understandable.
"Your guys cannot protect you, they just buy you a chance to see your friends die. Darnel paid roughly $400K to hit me because he thinks I am a harder target with a badge. He is right, in fact I am even harder than he thinks. He sent hitmen, well, hit children really, insane little monsters, Los Ninos Sicario de Diablo."
"They really exist? I thought they were a scary story. Did you kill them?"
"I assure you they are real, they just don't get up this far North very often. Mexico City is big and their main income is from kidnapping. You don't want to know what happened... except, obviously, I won as always, and they are no good to me dead on the street so we are talking. You heard that scream earlier? That was a Shark with them. What about the last Tucco? The one your guy followed?" I knew it was what he needed to talk about.
"He got three blocks, then we are going to say he fell and broke his ankle. My guy got him to a doctor... well, a private not quite doctor, if you take my meaning."