Текст книги "Jack Taggart Mysteries 7 - Book Bundle"

Автор книги: Don Easton

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Текущая страница: 93 (всего у книги 141 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Whiskey Jake was the president of the east-side chapter of Satans Wrath. It was not yet eight o’clock on a Sunday morning when he arrived at the mansion belonging to Damien, the national president of the club. He didn’t question the order to attend.

He stopped at the electronic gate outside of Damien’s estate and looked into the closed-circuit television camera. Seconds later, the gate swung open and he drove inside. He parked his Mercedes beside a green Jaguar that belonged to Lance Morgan, who was the president of the west-side chapter. He then walked over and pressed the intercom button beside the main entrance and stared into another camera.

“Hi, Whiskey Jake,” responded a woman’s voice. “They’re out back. Go around the side. I’ll bring you a coffee.”

Vicki was Damien’s wife. At thirty-seven, she was eighteen years younger than Damien. Whiskey Jake thought she was sexy and attractive, but even though he was a giant of a man who towered over Damien, he knew better than to even fantasize when it came to Vicki. His loyalty to the club was above all else.

Whiskey Jake lumbered around to the back of the house and met up with Damien and Lance who were sitting in a gazebo near Damien’s swimming pool. Whiskey Jake hadn’t sat down yet when Vicki brought him a coffee.

“Black,” she said matter-of-factly, “two sugars,” before returning to the house.

Without comment, Damien and Lance stood up and the three men went for a walk. Damien had his house swept for bugs on a regular basis, but even in his gazebo he would not take a chance.

“Okay,” said Damien. “Sounds like The Brotherhood are at it again. First thing I hear on the news when I wake up is about a car chase and shootout on the streets last night. The police haven’t made any arrests, but are speculating that gangs involved in a turf war are responsible.”

“Yeah, I heard it on the way over,” said Whiskey Jake.

“First, what is the plus side?” asked Damien.

Whiskey Jake said, “The drive-by shootings have taken the heat off of us. Last night will help some more. The cop’s Organized Crime Task Force will focus on the shooters in The Brotherhood. Strictly bottom-end people. Maybe they’ll make a few arrests, seize some guns, get some publicity, and try to make themselves look good. Nothing to affect our club.”

“And the negative side?” asks Damien.

“Might affect our business to a small degree,” responded Whiskey Jake.

“Could do more than that,” said Lance. “Politicians could use public fear to posture for votes, maybe strengthen gang laws under the Criminal Code and give the OCTF more funding and manpower as a result of the shootings.”

“And?” prompted Damien.

“The OCTF might find out that we are supplying The Brotherhood with meth and GHB,” continued Lance. “Once the OCTF knock off the dumb shits in The Brotherhood, they’re not going to want to disband and lose their power. They’re bound to come after us next.”

“Exactly,” said Damien. “We need to educate The Brotherhood. The harder it is for the police to nail them, the more insulation we have, and the more police resources will be spent on The Brotherhood.”

“They’re a bunch of punk kids,” said Whiskey Jake. “Hard to organize and they won’t like it if they realize we’re taking over. We know the leaders, but we don’t know who all they control or how many they got.”

“Exactly why we should make a move. Discreetly start grooming a leader to take over The Brotherhood. Someone to gain power over them and make it easier for us to control.”

“Like a mole,” said Lance.

“Exactly,” replied Damien. “Pick someone we already control. End their war before the police use it as an excuse to ask for more money and resources. Allow The Brotherhood to set up a couple of dummy bosses underneath whoever we pick as a protective layer for us.”

“Like the canary in the coal mine,” said Lance.

“Precisely. At the moment, they have too many bosses, which is another reason there is so much conflict.”

“Right now they have seven bosses,” said Whiskey Jake.

“Which are too many idiots if we are to control them properly.”

“Maybe we should cut their number down?” suggested Whiskey Jake.

“Exactly what I have in mind, but with all the heat over these shootings, the timing isn’t good for us to openly do it ourselves. It could also have the potential of backfiring on us. The Brotherhood might realize we are the bigger threat and unite against us.”

“So how do we do it?” asked Whiskey Jake.

“We need to figure out which side is winning and go with them,” replied Damien. “We need someone with more brainpower than the current bosses to move things along. How about Cocktail?”

“He’s got the smarts,” said Lance. “Both sides of The Brotherhood deal with him and know we back him. They trust him and know he would never expose himself by being a boss. Makes them trust him more. He’s also smart enough not to double-cross us.”

“Good,” replied Damien. “Tell him to pick who he thinks is going to be the winning side, then offer to help them out. Set the losers up to be taken out all at once. Professionally. No more idiotic drive-by-shooting shit.”

“You got it,” said Whiskey Jake.

“In the meantime, except for Cocktail and his action, tell all our guys to stay clear of The Brotherhood.”

“After last night, the heat will be all over them,” agreed Lance.

“Plus, the dumb shits will probably retaliate immediately instead of waiting,” said Damien. “Give everything a few days. Once the air clears a little, tell Cocktail to meet the bosses and provide us with an assessment. Make sure our prospects are around to ensure secrecy and security with Cocktail. If there is any doubt, abort. I don’t want the police to ever connect him with us or The Brotherhood.”

“So once a stronger side emerges, we’ll eliminate the weaker side,” said Whiskey Jake.

“Yes, but not us personally,” replied Damien. “Get them to do it. We’ll give Cocktail some … professional advice that he can pass along. Get the losers in one spot. Take care of them all at once and make sure their bodies never surface.”

“He could use a pretext that we have ordered a truce meeting for them to straighten things out,” suggested Lance.

“That would work,” replied Damien. “Anything to get them all together in a place without witnesses. Won’t be as much heat if they disappear. Especially if their money disappears at the same time.”

“I think they’re smart enough not to use banks,” said Lance.

Damien nodded and said, “But I doubt they are sophisticated enough to launder or use offshore accounts. Tell Cocktail to get the losers to give up their cash before they dispose of them.”

“Torture the fuckers first,” said Whiskey Jake, as if he was going over his own mental checklist.

“Cocktail can split it amongst himself and the winning side,” continued Damien.

“If we take out three or four of their bosses,” said Lance, “with the number of punks out there and a lack of leadership, there could be a lot of retaliation on an undisciplined level.”

“If shit really goes wrong, we’ll claim Cocktail was acting on his own,” said Damien. “If it goes well, the winning side should feel indebted. As far as retaliation goes, without their leaders the kids will fold pretty fast. For a brief time it might draw a lot of police scrutiny, but all we have to do is wait it out and make sure we don’t get caught in the middle.”

Satans Wrath would not have to wait long to see who the weaker side was. Jack would be placed firmly on that weaker side … and targeted for assassination.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jack and Laura arrived at the office at quarter to eight on Sunday morning and saw that their boss was already there.

“Come in, have a seat,” said Staff-Sergeant Rosemary Wood, gesturing to the two chairs in front of her desk. She waited until they were seated and said, “Well?”

“You read our reports?” asked Jack, pointing to the papers on her desk.

“I read them,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Driving like a couple of lunatics while shooting and smashing up cars on our public streets. It must have been quite a night.”

“It was,” admitted Jack.

“Both of you feel you are okay to work?”

“We’re fine,” both Jack and Laura said in unison.

“You’ll need to see the Force psychologist.”

“We know.”

“I’m sure you do. Be nice to the man, he is only trying to help.”

“Don’t worry, Rose. We’ll be nice and say the right things,” said Laura.

“For sure,” agreed Jack. “I don’t want him recommeding stress leave.”

“I know you will say the right things,” replied Rose, shaking her head. These two make a living out of fooling some of the toughest people on the planet. Our poor shrink won’t stand a chance. She looked at them and said, “About last night, it was a miracle nobody got hurt.”

“The incident was over within thirty seconds,” said Jack.

“A lot of people can get hurt in thirty seconds,” replied Rose.

“I know, but under the circumstances I did what I thought was best.”

“You never shot back … I take it you weren’t armed?”

“No. Seldom are when we’re undercover.”

Rose nodded and said, “After you called me last night, I called Isaac.”

Jack sucked in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Assistant Commissioner Isaac was the criminal operations officer who oversaw all the operational investigations in the Pacific region. He wasn’t someone you would bother at home without serious consideration. More so, when the call was made after midnight.

“How did he take it?” asked Jack.

“Well, he wasn’t exactly happy,” replied Rose, “but you won’t be kicking your Stetson up the highway to Nunavut Dog Sled Patrol, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Good. What did he say?”

“When I woke him up to say that you had been involved in a … situation, he groaned and muttered, “not again” and asked who was dead. When I said that the situation did not result in anyone’s death … that is correct, isn’t it?” asked Rose, while scrutinizing Jack’s face.

“So far,” replied Jack.

“So far?”

“Sy is planning retribution. He asked me to attend a meeting with him today.”

“You mentioned that last night and Isaac is in agreement that you do attend to find out what you can and to defuse the situation if possible.”

“If possible,” replied Jack.

“Naturally, you won’t take part in any retribution yourself.”

“Naturally,” replied Jack.

“Good. Isaac wanted that made clear. Also, he was relieved that nobody was hurt, but was irate that none of the perpetrators would be charged. I explained that you two couldn’t go to court because it would burn your informant. He didn’t like it, but agreed. Maybe later other evidence will surface where charges could be laid without you having to appear in court.”

“Sy would never co-operate,” said Jack. “Even if he did, with his record of violence, a jury wouldn’t exactly feel sorry for him.”

“Well, in the end, Isaac said perhaps it was a blessing you two weren’t going to court because he knew how it would play out with the media if they ever found out.”

“So everything is okay, then?” asked Laura.

“In my view, Isaac’s response was pragmatic. He said that under the circumstances, it would appear that what you did was reasonable given the situation.”

Both Jack and Laura exhaled loudly and smiled at each other.

“He told me to tell you, Jack, that his response may have been different if someone had been killed.” Rose looked sharply at Jack and said, “I am to tell you specifically that he means citizens, good guys … and bad guys.”

“That goes without saying,” replied Jack, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as if indignant.

“I’m not the Force shrink,” said Rose. “I know you better, so don’t try to con me.”

“Sorry,” replied Jack. “Force of habit.”

“Are you going over to see Sy when we’re done here?” Rose asked, changing the subject.

“I’d like to hold off until later in the day. The Organized Crime Task Force has some wire up and running. It would be nice to know if anything comes across the phones that might help us figure out if more attacks are planned. I’m also concerned that Connie and Sammy saw Weasel and his cohorts start their car before we left the party. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

Rose snickered in spite of the seriousness and said, “You of all people say you don’t believe in coincidences? Hell, that’s been your middle name ever since I arrived in this office.”

“You know what I mean,” said Jack. “There’s a good chance Sy has someone in his gang who is working for the other side.”

“And we don’t mean our side,” said Laura.

Rose nodded, sighed, and said, “Be safe, the both of you.”

“Yes, Mom. Both hands on the wheel,” replied Jack.

Rose furrowed her eyebrows to feign anger at the remark.

Jack looked at her and said, “Deception doesn’t suit you. Maybe that’s a good thing.”

Rose pursed her lips before saying, “Go. You’ve got work to do.” She waited until they left the office before smiling at how easily Jack had seen through her.

It was suppertime when Jack and Laura arrived at Sy’s apartment. In the previous hour Sy had called Jack a couple of times, but his calls were ignored. It was a control issue and Jack wanted to be in control.

“Where the fuck you been all day?” asked Sy, as they entered his crowded apartment. There were only males in the apartment and the atmosphere was a combination of excitement and tension.

“Princess and I had to go rent a car and then we went to help my aunt find her dog,” replied Jack. “Why?”

“Why? This is fuckin’ why!” said Sy, picking up a sawed-off shotgun and waving it in Jack’s face, before nodding toward the door and saying, “Come on, let’s you and I take a walk.”

Laura kissed Jack on the cheek and said, “Don’t be long. Princess might get bored.”

As soon as Jack and Sy were alone in the hallway, Sy said, “We found out where Weasel is stayin’. We’re gettin’ him tonight.”

“Tonight!” replied Jack.

“Yeah. He’s staying with his girlfriend.”

“Have you ever heard the expression, ‘revenge is a dish best served cold’?” said Jack. “There’ll be lots of heat. If you wait, they’ll relax their guard.”

“We’re gonna do it. If you don’t want to come, then don’t.” Sy looked suspiciously at Jack and said, “Fuck, man, they shot at you and Princess, too. I thought you would want in.”

“I do, but something stinks,” replied Jack.

“What are you talkin’ about? The only thing that is gonna stink is Weasel’s corpse!”

“Who told Weasel and his buddies about the party?”

Sy shrugged and said, “I dunno.”

“How did they know it was you last night when it wasn’t your car?”

“Probably watchin’ the place. Saw us leave.”

“It was dark when we left. People coming and going. Easy to see silhouettes, not so easy to see faces.”

“What the fuck are you tryin’ to say?”

“That you have a leak. Someone tipped them off last night. This could be a trap.”

“Naw, ain’t no trap,” replied Sy. “Roach and Bagger got lucky. Rounded up a guy by the name of Raven who knows Weasel’s girlfriend. Raven talked as soon as they rammed a gun in his face. He told us Weasel is staying with his girlfriend in the basement of her parents’ house.”

“Roach and Bagger kill Raven?” asked Jack, nonchalantly.

“Naw, not necessary. Roach and Bagger are holding him at their house so Weasel can’t be warned. What Raven told us checked out. I had one of my guys drive past the house half an hour ago. Weasel’s car was parked in the alley behind the house.”

“Same car as last night?” asked Jack.

“Naw, didn’t you hear the news? They used a stolen car last night. His is a blue Honda. If it’s there, we’ll sneak up, kick in the door, and blast the shit out of him and his bitch.”

Jack took a deep breath and slowly exhaled before saying, “I’m telling you, after last night … you heard the news. The cops could be watching everyone. If they know it was Weasel, they’ll be expecting someone to take revenge. You should wait until things cool.”

“Fuck that.” Sy cast a sideways glance at Jack and said, “You saved my life last night, but now you’re actin’ weird. If you’re worried about us gettin’ hurt, don’t. I got a team of seven guys, not countin’ you an’ me. We got enough firepower to blow the whole house to smithereens. So … you comin’ or not?”

Jack sighed and said, “Yeah, I’ll come. Give me a minute to tell Princess I’m steppin’ out. How long will we be?”

“The place is out in Maple Ridge. Better count on being gone a couple of hours.”

“What you got for wheels?”

“Brewski will drive a van with cool plates. Me, I got a little five-litre Mustang that the guys boosted. Goes like a bullet. The owner is on holidays, so it won’t be reported.”

“Hope it’s not white?”

“It’s black. Why?”

“Good. Harder to spot at night. If we’re going to do it, let’s do it right. Start with letting me drive and have the van follow.”

“Why?”

“Because when we leave, I’m going to drive in circles for awhile. Make damn sure nobody is following us. Tell Brewski to do the same.”

“Okay, you proved your driving ability last night,” replied Sy. “You can be the wheel man, but when we get there, I’m first through the door.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” replied Jack.

Jack quickly updated Laura as they walked back to their rented apartment above Sy’s.

“Oh, man,” said Laura. “Bust them and we’re burned. Don’t and we’re party to murder. Any ideas?”

“OCTF should be able to come up with an address on Weasel’s girlfriend. Tell the narcs to drive over there and empty the garbage off their floor mats out front and in the alley behind. When we arrive, have the Emergency Response Team do a takedown. I’ll stall as long as I can to give everyone time to set up.”

“You’re going to have them arrested? We’ll be burned. They’ll figure it out.”

“Maybe … maybe not. I have an idea.”

Minutes later, Sy opened the trunk of the Mustang parked in the underground parking lot. “Take a look,” said Sy, as he smiled and pointed to a duffle bag.

Jack opened the bag and saw four handguns, four sawed-off shotguns, and an AK47 automatic machine gun. “Hell of an arsenal.”

Sy nodded and kept the AK47 for himself, along with one of the shotguns for Jack, before passing the duffle bag over to his gang members, who were parked beside the Mustang in a van. Seconds later, Sy ordered two of his people to ride in the back seat of the stolen Mustang while the others went in the van with Brewski.

“Let’s roll!” ordered Sy.

Jack spent an hour driving around in circles before an exasperated Sy told him enough was enough. Jack drove as directed to a residential area in Maple Ridge. When they arrived, Sy indicated a house halfway down the block. “Pull over,” said Sy. “I see his blue Honda parked out front now.”

Jack pulled over to the curb and Brewski pulled in behind him. At the opposite end of the block a set of car headlights came on and the driver sped away. “One of your guys?” Jack asked.

“No,” replied Sy. “I didn’t want Neighbourhood Watch or someone reporting anything suspicious. That’s probably a neighbour. Don’t worry about it.”

“It pays to worry sometimes. Tell the guys in the van to drive around the area and check things out. It’s not good for both of us to be parked together. While Brewski is doing that, I’m going to park on the next block and you and I will walk back. Let’s see if anyone is sitting in parked cars.”

“Fuck, man, you’re paranoid.”

“You stay alive that way … and out of jail.”

“Yeah, okay,” muttered Sy, before giving the order for Brewski to circle the area.

Jack parked the car in the next block and said, “Let’s leave our artillery in the car. I don’t want to be seen walking down the street carrying these cannons. If it is the cops they’re liable to see it and grab us.”

Sy agreed and left the AK47 in the car and told his two associates to wait while he and Jack checked things out.

As Jack and Sy arrived at the end of the block from Weasel’s house, Jack pointed to the ground and said, “Damn it, I knew it.” He pointed to the empty parking space at the end of the block where the car had driven away when they first arrived.

“What?” replied Sy. “I don’t see nothin’.”

“Cop droppings,” said Jack, pointing to the sidewalk and road.

“Cop droppings?” replied Sy with a snicker. “What the fuck are you talking about? Looks like sunflower seeds.”

“A buddy of mine got busted once,” replied Jack. “They had his house under surveillance first. He told me later he knew where they had been parked by all the sunflower seeds they ate and the husks they spit out while watching his place.”

“You shittin’ me?”

“No. We should get the hell out of here. Tell the boys in the van to scram.”

“Over some seeds? You gotta be kiddin’. Hang on.”

Jack listened as Sy ordered the van to cruise through the area and check.

“That could draw heat,” cautioned Jack.

“You’re fuckin’ paranoid,” replied Sy with a chuckle. “Come on, we’ll head back to the car. If the boys haven’t spotted anything suspicious by then, we’re goin’ in.”

“Let’s walk down the back alley first and check it out,” suggested Jack.

“Yeah, okay, but if the alley is clear, we’re gonna do this fucker.”

“Sounds good,” replied Jack.

They had barely made it into the alley when Sy received a call.

“The cops got us pinned!” screamed Brewski. His warning wasn’t necessary as the sharp, piercing sound of sirens cut the night air from several different locations.

Two police cars with lights flashing entered each end of the alley simultaneously and zoomed toward Jack and Sy.

“Come on,” yelled Jack. “Over the fence!”

Jack and Sy both clamoured over a wooden fence and raced through someone’s backyard, out through the front and crossed the street to another yard and kept going. Three blocks away they were in another yard and about to run out a gate into a rear alley, but the sound of another car speeding up the alley caused them to crouch down behind some bushes while peering through the back fence.

Jack glanced at Sy and saw he was holding a pistol at the ready.

“Jesus, Sy,” whispered Jack. “I thought we left the artillery in the car in case the cops searched us.”

“After last night I started carrying an ankle holster,” Sy whispered.

Both men froze as a flashlight beam cut through the darkness behind them. Jack looked over his shoulder and saw the distinct yellow stripe on the uniform trousers of a policeman who walked toward them. His beam was still probing the bushes when Jack saw Sy raise his pistol and take aim.