Chapter 16: Breakfast at Jackson’s
Shin Lao was the first of the pair back to the house. She parked their new vehicle in the garage, squeezing it in beside her bullet ridden Escalade. Skinner could hear her muttering quite loudly as he switched the camera to cover the garage momentarily. She looked irritated and he couldn’t imagine what patience it had taken to deal with such things as the New York State Vehicle Registration office.
She walked through the door into the office a well dressed little ball of frustration and foul language. “Damn I hate dealing with sleazy car dealers. But they tend to bend over backwards to make a sale so they don’t pay attention to things like the fact that the place I supposedly work doesn’t exist.” She flopped down into the high backed desk chair next to Skinner and peered in at the monitor. “Anything interesting happen while we were gone?” Skinner turned to her slowly, like he had seen something that had scared the hell out of him. It was, in all reality, a look of shock and disgust. “Interesting, no, disturbing and vile…in great quantity. This guy is worse than most of the guys I deal with on a daily basis. That’s saying something when you work in homicide. You get the remorseless killers and the people who did it in the moment and regret it later. But this guy is sick. I’ve got it all on tape, but this man is pure damn scum. I’ve watched him make no less than three drug purchases, ordered and subsequently beat the hell out of a prostitute, and he’s been visited by some of what I assume are Tanaka’s men twice. I don’t know how all of this slipped past everybody on a daily basis.” Skinner rewound the tape and played it on another monitor to show the three men who had visited the former police officer earlier in the day.
“I recognize two of them; they’re definitely Tanaka’s men. But that third guy is new, or at the very least recent. I’ve been out of things on Tanaka’s side for a while now, so he may be a replacement.” They pored over the video for a while before the Viper walked through the door as well. They related the events of the day to each other and Elias flopped down two overstuffed file folders on his desk. “This is all of the information on Boss Tanaka and Officer Jackson. We’ve got a bit of a problem though Skinner.” Skinner turned his head, he was certain that he didn’t want to hear what a professional killer considered to be a ‘problem’. The Viper pulled out the sheets that contained Matsuo Tanaka’s expense reports and handed them to Skinner. “All of the highlighted entries…they correspond to police officers.”
Skinner’s head reeled. He knew a lot of these officers, and much like with Jackson, he had no idea that these guys were on the take. But the sheer number of them was what completely unnerved detective Skinner. “ALL of these are police officers? There’s gotta be over two hundred people on this list.” “Two hundred and seventy four to be exact. That’s how Tanaka’s stayed in business for so long. If you own the police you own the city and so he’s operated with impunity these many years. All of that is going to end soon however. But first we’ve got to get some information out of Jackson. I can’t say that it’s not entirely personal, but he seems to be the main man around there if he was given the job to take me out.” Shin Lao looked at the Viper again with a disapproving face. Skinner caught on to the gist of what he was saying a little late in the game but was the only one who said anything. “You’re going to kill Tanaka aren’t you? So you’re trying to get yourself killed now?” The Viper said nothing as he flopped the file on Jackson down on the desk in front of Skinner. “Take a look through that. This is going to be part two of the job. We’re going to be bringing down all of the cops on that list I showed you, but this is the information the police chief is about to receive on officer Jackson, so we’ve got roughly two hours to pick him up so that we can chat. Shin, I’m going to need you to stay here and watch the cameras. Call me if he receives any visitors before we get there. I’ll need to take Skinner with me. He knows Skinner’s a cop so he’ll probably let him in. He definitely won’t open the door for either of us.” Shin Lao nodded grimly as she knew that this was the only way that it would work, but she would have much rather been there.
“Time to suit up. You’ve got to remember that you’re there to see him to talk, to see how he’s doing with his newfound funds, anything to get him to open the door. I’ll handle the rough stuff after that.” He turned to look at Shin Lao with a reassuring grin. He wasn’t sure if it had the desired effect or not but at least he gave it a try. “Nice choice in trucks by the way. When does it go in?” “Tomorrow morning. Skeet said it’ll be done by no later than midnight tomorrow night. He thinks it’s for me so there’s no issue with it.” “Wonderful. Let’s go pay your buddy a visit.”
It only took Skinner a couple of minutes to get dressed in his suit. The Viper gave him a service .38 revolver out of the weapons locker. “The .45 isn’t exactly standard issue. Our boy’s probably a little nervous right now so might be looking for anything out of the ordinary.” Skinner holstered it and patted his back pocket for his badge, which wasn’t there he remembered, feeling a little stupid. “Let’s do this.” Skinner said as he came out of the bedroom. The Viper was dressed for work himself. The expensive black suit and overcoat seemed to give him a larger than life look that was somehow reassuring. It was like everything was right with the world again, knowing that the ‘bad guys’ hadn’t won that small battle…yet.
The ride from the Viper’s secluded base to downtown New York City took slightly less than forty five minutes and the streets were unusually clear of traffic and law enforcement. They parked up the street from Officer Jackson’s apartment and walked the block back. The usual scum littered the alleyways and street corners of the grimy neighborhood. They walked the stairs to the outside door and gave the buzzer a ring, but no sound came. Giving a push on the crusty door it swung open easily giving sight to the graffiti and who knew what that covered the walls floor to ceiling of the first several flights of stairs. A man lay sprawled in a corned of one floor landing with the smell of cheap rum and even cheaper cologne rising up in a putrid mixture that made Skinner wish for a bath. “Time to shine Skinner” The Viper said quietly as they got to Jackson’s door.
Skinner nodded and turned to look at the aged door. The numbers had fallen off long ago, leaving only the imprints of their previous location. The clean patch said 7B and Skinner stretched his face a bit, trying to get a serious, yet friendly, look to it. He knocked loudly on it with the policeman’s knock that everybody who’s ever been in trouble with the law recognized. “Ya who is it?” Came the yell from the other side of the door. “Hey Luke, it’s Skinner. Was just dropping by for a visit. Wanted to see how you were getting on.” There was some hesitation from the other side of the door and then the sounds of rapid cleaning that one often heard following the loud knock of the police, often followed by a drug bust. Skinner continued to look straight ahead at the door as the sounds died down on the other side and the peephole went dark. The sounds of bolts and locks sliding out of place followed quickly and the door opened a crack revealing the round face of Luke Jackson. He peered around the hallway but thankfully the Viper was out of the angle of view so escaped attention for the moment. “Oh, phew. Come on in Skinny. So how’s things on the lifer side of the desk?” His act was convincing but Skinner knew better and he played his part the best he could. “Oh they’re going. I’ve had a couple of days off after the incident so it’s been pretty quiet. I brought by a case of beer to celebrate. It’s the good German stuff. Real classy stuff.” Skinner held his breath to see if the former cop bought the story. They’d both worked stake outs and stings and knew when a cover story was just as it sounded. He didn’t seem to quite buy it and eyed Skinner suspiciously. If Skinner was really here for what he said he was, he would have been pretty suspicious of the officer’s behavior, and had to remind himself of that. “Is something the matter Luke? You’re acting a little dodgy. Been having problems with family begging for money?” He chuckled a little bit to give the joke a little weight and it seemed to soften Jackson up a small bit. “Ya, you could say that Skinny. Come on in.”
The apartment was a complete departure from what Skinner had seen on the monitor. Where hours ago there were bags of coke and heroine, now there was only furniture and a couple of cardboard boxes. “So when do you move into your mansion?” Skinner threw out there as a jest. His act had to be convincing. He knew how this man operated now and he was certain the man wouldn’t hesitate to scatter his skull all over the blank wall behind him. “Next week after I buy my Porsche and the Mercedes.” He gave a brief smile, strained and fake as it was. He was trying to size Skinner up and both of them knew it. Skinner reached into the rectangular shaped bag and the man tensed up. He relaxed slightly when Skinner pulled a thick brown bottle out of the bag and handed it to him. “Some of Germany’s finest. It’s good stuff.” Skinner pulled out a bottle for himself and pulled a bottle opener from the bag and handed it to Jackson. “Hell soon you’ll have someone to open your beer for you Luke. How’s that shit.” Jackson was fumbling with the bottle. It didn’t seem to want to open and he was getting a little frustrated. “How the hell do you open this thing?” He continued to fumble with it until a second later when his door exploded inwards and the Viper stood there in the broken remains. The look of shock on the officer’s face was one of sheer terror and he dropped his bottle, cringing as the Viper pulled his guns out of his holsters and fired two rounds into the man’s chest. Skinner was used to the sound of those guns, but the shots the Viper had taken sounds very different. “Nighty night Jackson. Sweet dreams” The Viper said. Skinner looked down at the officer lying on the floor and noted the two darts sticking out of the man’s neck. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked at the Viper. “A tool for every job. Now let’s pick him up and carry him downstairs. He needs to look like he’s drunk and we’re carrying him to a cab. Sling one of his arms over your should and we’ll drag him between us.”
Skinner had never seen the man operate in person. He’d only heard the tales from the occasional thug and those were no doubt exaggerated tales. But Skinner was impressed with the way the man operated. He seemed to take everything into account and things just seemed to fall his way. They picked up the officer the way that the Viper had described and drug him down the stairs, saying things that you would say to your drunk buddy after one too many at a party. “Almost there man. Don’t puke now; we’ll get you home in a couple of minutes.” It seemed to work as they stepped out onto the darkened New York City streets. They drug him back to the BMW with only a few glances from the street rats that were flitting about looking for their next hit or possibly even some company for the evening. They stowed him on the floor of the back row of seats, his hands and feet handcuffed behind him. “He’ll be out until we get back to the house, but I don’t want to take any chances.” The Viper had explained as they pulled out onto the street heading towards the interstate.
They didn’t seem to draw much attention as they roared up the flat open roads upstate. They pulled Jackson out of the truck and drug him around back. “We’re not bringing him inside?” Skinner asked. He hadn’t been filled in on this part of the plan so was genuinely curious. “No, never bring a hostage into your house. Things tend to go badly when you do. I’ve got a place I take them. It’s underground out back here.” As they rounded the back corner of the house Skinner saw nothing out there by empty fields. But as they got further out into the field the Viper dropped the arm of the unconscious officer and grabbed at a couple of rusted rings that lay a few inches below some sun baked grass. The bulkhead opened into a dark staircase and the Viper flipped the light on as they drug Officer Jackson underground. The tunnel went on for twenty feet or so before opening up into a concrete room roughly fifteen feet by fifteen feet. “I assume it was some sort of bomb shelter back when such things were deemed necessary, but I’ve got more interesting uses for it now.”
Indeed he did by the things that Skinner saw laying down there. One corner was occupied by a five foot by five foot cage. Thick iron bars made up the bulk of it and they seemed to have been set straight into the thick concrete that made up the ceiling. They were reinforced every twelve inches or so with a cross piece. The door looked very similar, but had several locks and slide bars on it to lock it into place. “Put him in there for now. I’ll interrogate him later.” That being said they flopped him down in the cell and slide the bars across and locked them into place. “Let’s see if anything has happened while we were gone.” They walked the short hall to the bulkhead and flipped the light off, plunging the place into complete darkness. Skinner looked at the Viper and he simply gave Skinner a blank face. “It’s all psychological. All he’ll know is that he’s in a cage in pitch darkness. He’ll crack by tomorrow morning I’m sure. If not there’ll be other ways that I can get him to talk.” Skinner just nodded and shut his side of the bulkhead. They slid several bolts across the doors and walked back to the house. Skinner didn’t like the way this was turning out. So far tonight he had been an accomplice to kidnapping a police officer, albeit an incredibly twisted one and had helped to imprison said officer. Things certainly had taken an interesting turn in the last week.
“You just missed the officers guys.” Shin Lao piped up as they walked into the office. “Three of them. Upper management by the look of them. I was surprised when it wasn’t a uniformed officer that came to the door, but then again I wasn’t. Who’d you send that file to Elias?” “I sent it to the chief. I didn’t see his name on Tanaka’s list so I assumed that he was clean. Apparently I was mistaken.” Skinner felt sick as the gravity of the situation hit him full in the face. If the chief was in on it there was no way he could go back to his job. There wouldn’t be anywhere safe for him now and he knew it. “We’ve got company down in the playpen. We’ll talk to him later. But for now I could really use something to eat. What do you feel like Shin?” She seemed thoughtful for a second, it amazed Skinner how easily they seemed to blow off another person’s life while concerning themselves with something as trivial as dinner. “Let’s eat in tonight. I noticed some steaks in the freezer; we could throw them on the grill out back.”
Skinner was shocked by the statement. “How can you cook out there while there’s someone being held ten feet below you? “You’re right Skinner. Let’s just throw them on the broiler.” The Viper picked up on Skinner’s tension and tried to lighten the mood a bit. “You still think this is all black and white don’t you detective. Well let me tell you that in your world it may be. Right and wrong. Good and evil. Those really are luxuries that we don’t have. We don’t, and can’t, have things that easily. It’s got to be all shades of grey for us. No offense but that’s the way it is for the rest of us.” Skinner simply leaned silently against the table holding the several surveillance monitors on it. He knew that the man was right, but was reluctant to admit it. Black and white indeed was the only way that he could make it through the week. But he was quickly learning that he was quite possibly the only one that lived that way. “I understand Elias, but I’m just a little apprehensive. I’m just concerned about the turn my life is taking lately is all. I just found out that just about every other cop I know is taking money from a crime syndicate. And they’re all right with it. It’s just a bit of a shock to the system.”
The Viper nodded and took a deep breath. “Things will work out for the best for you Skinner, don’t worry about that. You may not be able to go back to being a cop, but you won’t go to jail, I can assure you of that. Hell you might even come out of this looking like a hero. God knows this city could use one.” Skinner nodded simply. He knew things were changing, but he didn’t know whether for the best or the worst yet.
12.20.2005
12.19.2005
Chapter 15
Chapter 15: The Plan Forms
Sitting in his office the Viper relaxed a bit and leaned in his chair. Skinner sat in the corner reading a book on the history of firearms that he had found on the bookshelf. “So here’s the plan everybody.” The Viper’s sudden exclamation brought everybody to attention. “You don’t need to be involved in this Skinner if you don’t want to. I’m going to tell you up front that we’re likely going to torture and or kill a cop. Jackson was indeed the one who pulled the trigger. He’s as twisted as they come. He’s deep in Tanaka’s payroll. He’s something of a hired gun, a replacement killer, for when something goes wrong with Tanaka’s normal hitters. We need to do this before someone realizes that I’m alive and they send out the advance guards.”
“I’m in this until the end. I told Shin Lao that before we got here and I intend to keep my word.” All right but you’ve been warned. It could very well be your career if not your life if someone sees you running around with professionals.” “It doesn’t matter much, it seems that half of the policemen in my precinct are dirty anyway so what’s the difference.” Skinner leaned back in the chair he was occupying by the bookshelves. This was by far the most hectic week he’d ever had. Shin Lao piped up from the other room where she had been changing out of her funeral dress and into some “work clothes”. “So where do we start?” “We start with Jackson. I’ve had some bugs planted in his apartment over the last couple of days. It’s funny how much you can accomplish when you have a technical genius at your employ. I had the Iceman go in as a cable man and plant several cameras and listening devices around his apartment. We’ll know who he’s talking to, where he is, and where he’ll be next thanks for him. First we study him while I do the work on the new guns.”
Shin Lao left the room for a minute and returned with her duffle bag. She pulled out the twin Desert Eagles that had belonged to the Viper and set them on the desk in front of him. “No need for that Elias.” He smiled at her and picked up the familiar hand cannons and studied them. “Well no need for that step at least. We’re going to need to pick up a new car though. I need something that can haul an arsenal and your Escalade seems to be the worse for wear. After that you’ll have to visit Edgar and pick up some large munitions. This isn’t going to be a job to be subtle for too long. Skinner, while we’re doing all of this I’m going to need you to work the surveillance. You know what to look and listen for just as well, if not better than the rest of us. I’ll make up a grocery list and we’ll get started in the morning. In the meantime however I’ve got to get used to being alive again. Care for a beer detective?” “Is it that German sludge like you brought over that night?” “Of course it is. Wouldn’t have anything else in my place.” “Then I say yes and bring a tall glass.”
The trio spent the majority of the night telling old tales. Skinner’s stories didn’t quite stack up to the exploits of the two professionals but despite the fact that he was currently hanging out with two criminals he enjoyed himself and perhaps loosened up for the first time in a while. It’s twisted moments like these that cause a person to question themselves. The stomach of potent German beer doesn’t do anything to dissuade the mind much either. It was at this point that detective Leonard Skinner started to question his life. He had put nearly twenty years into the police force. Until a few days ago he was certain that they were all just as dedicated and law abiding as he was. He found out quite the opposite and now seemed to question himself.
He also noticed that as the night progressed that the two killers seemed to move closer and closer to each other until at one point Shin Lao was nestled against the Viper’s side with his arm around her shoulder. Skinner suddenly felt like a third wheel and snuck off to a couch in the other room to sleep the alcohol off.
He was awakened at about six in the morning by the thundering of large caliber pistol fire. He sprang up suddenly awake with the .45 ACP in his hand, frantically scanning the dark room. When he was satisfied that there was no attacker present he started going through the house. He came to a door that he hadn’t quite noticed the night before and opened it slowly. The white room on the other side made him squint his newly awakened eyes and didn’t help the slight hangover he was nursing. He didn’t know why he was surprised that the Viper had a small shooting range hidden in here somewhere but he was. And there stood the Viper firing round after round into targets at the other end of the range. The large caliber bullets were tearing up the thin targets. He was truly amazed at the accuracy the man had with those two hand cannons as he loaded round after round into nearly the same spots. “Good morning detective” The Viper said without even turning around. Even with the protective ear guards and the staccato thunder of the twin .50’s.
Skinner just grunted and walked up to the stall. “Care to give it a shot? They’re a little big for some people, but you’ve been shooting for a while now. You should be able to handle it.” Skinner didn’t know quite what to say as he’d been so roughly awakened and the brief adrenaline boost had worn off, leaving him in that “just woke up” state of mind. “Sure. Anything I should know about these pieces? Everybody’s ranted about how much you’ve modified these things.” “Nope, they’re just a lot lighter, but they’re nose-heavy to cut down on the recoil. Gas vent may surprise you a bit at first if you’re not used to them. The vents cut down on the report so you may still hear it, but you wouldn’t know I’m packing something that could crack an engine block.” Skinner nodded. The man certainly knew his firearms.
The detective was certainly surprised by the low weight of the guns, but found the end heavy factor a little odd at first. He settled a pair of hearing protectors over his ears and tried to aim the two pistols at the fresh target. The two blasts that came out of the gun did certainly surprise him. He wasn’t used to firing two pistols at once and his left arm shot down unexpectedly. The Viper chuckled behind him and nudged him to get his attention. “Try it with just the one. It’s a world of difference.” Skinner put down one of the pistols and assumed a firm stance. He emptied the clip into the target amazed at how accurate the pistol was. “That’s a nice piece of work. Not what I expected from a .50.” The Viper took the pistol back from Skinner and holstered them both. “It’s time to start watching our target. I’ll make some breakfast and then we’ve got to get our heads in the game. I’d recommend firing a couple of rounds in here before we hit the street. In our game you either hit your target the first time or you’re dead. There’s no ‘Freeze’ in our world. Shoot first or be killed.” Skinner nodded and picked his .45 up off of the table. “You’ll find ammunition on the table by the third stall. Try out a few types and find out what works best for you. I like the standard ammunition but there are a few different types there. I hear the AET’s are nice, but I didn’t like the way they fired.” He left the range and Skinner standing there alone in the stark white room to fire into several targets.
When Skinner left the range close to an hour later the Viper had made some semblance of breakfast. Eggs, bacon, hash browns and wheat toast. He had made some coffee but Skinner couldn’t place the scent. It must be some serious gourmet stuff just like the rest of the Viper’s life. Skinner ate everything up quickly as his stomach was complaining both that it was empty and that he had drank too much the night before on a nearly empty stomach. Shin Lao joined them a couple of minutes later fresh out of the shower and the sight of her damp from just drying off both excited and saddened Skinner. They ate breakfast while all three of them discussed the day’s events. The plan for the first day was simple. Skinner was to watch Jackson at his home while Shin Lao went out and bought a new ‘battle wagon’. The Viper would go to the Iceman and do whatever it was that they did.
The Viper called the Iceman shortly after breakfast. “Hey get your Cuban ass outta bed. I know you’re rich but damn, you’re burning daylight.” Skinner could hear a raised voice coming from the other end of the phone. He looked at the Viper with a questioning look and he mouthed the words “He’s not Cuban” to Skinner which produced a little bit of a chuckle. He supposed that even hit men could joke around just like anybody else. “Yeah I know you’re not Cuban, but damn it’s almost nine. I thought siesta wasn’t until after lunch.” Skinner heard the raised voice from the other end of the phone again and smiled now that he knew that he was just ribbing the man on the other end of the phone. The conversation after that was just business talk and he hung up after a couple of minutes. “I’m gonna head over to Ice’s place for a bit to dig up some dirt and make a couple of lives hard to live. Just watch what Jackson does and we’ll figure out where to step after that.”
Skinner felt a little sidelined at this point. Everybody else would be out there physically doing something while he simply sat here and basically watched television. The sights that he saw on the screen simply sickened him. Here was essentially a decorated beat officer talking of things like contracts and making drug deals. Skinner would never have guess by the brief interactions he’d had with the policeman. Shin Lao leaned over his shoulder and watched the screen for a couple of minutes with a grim face. “Kind of a wake up call isn’t it.” “For sure.” Skinner simply replied as he continued watching the screen. His faith in humanity was dwindling quickly as he watched the former officer act just like any common ganger. “I’m going out to pick up the vehicle. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Watch the fort. Just hit this button to switch to the house cameras if you hear anything.” She hit the button and cycled through the various cameras positioned through the house.
Skinner was left to himself as both of the professionals left to go about their tasks. Skinner sipped at his expensive coffee and simply watched for hours as the man just seemed to get sleazier and sleazier.
The Viper quickly made the trip to the Iceman’s estate. He pushed the button by the high iron gate that sealed the large mansion off from the rest of the world. A voice came through the speaker box shortly and informed him that the gate would be opening shortly. He drove the Aston Martin into the driveway and parked it around the side of the huge house. He waved to the usual man by the front door. Money bought security, however a lot of money bought loyal security and the Viper had known this man for years. “Morning Raoul. How’s the family?” “Eh, they’re fine. Wife’s in a fine mood the last couple a days.” The Viper chuckled. It seemed that Raoul was always having issues with his wife. It was good to see that some things never changed.
The front doors opened into a phenomenally large antechamber that was something out of Scarface. It was filled with urns and paintings and in face the high domed ceiling had been painted with a replica of the Sistine Chapel. Julio met him at the top of one of the twin sweeping stairways. “Cuban eh? I was wondering how long it would take you to get to Cuban.” “Don’t worry, there’s many more Hispanic races I can go through Julio, and we’ve still got plenty of time to go through them.” The tall, skinny Hispanic smiled at the top of the stairs. “Well, let’s get to work my friend. As you so politely reminded me earlier, we’re burning daylight.” They both walked through several rooms each of them lavishly decorated. But the Viper knew the truth. These rooms were all fronts, decorated simply for the sake of filling space. The Iceman rarely left his work room except to use the bathroom and to make something to eat.
The work room was truly a sight to behold however. Everything top of the line, resembling something out of a sci-fi movie. His main work center consisted of 14 monitors all mounted on semi-circular racks. He had three keyboards also in a semi-circle around an incredibly padded high backed rolling chair. To the left were six Alpha mainframes in tall ventilated racks. On the wall behind the computer workstation was a series of televisions all dedicated to security of the premises. On the far wall was all of the machinery he needed to make nearly any kind of documents that was needed. The Viper had once asked him why he didn’t print his own money. The Iceman had simply replied “What do I look like, a common criminal? Printing money is so low tech.” And he had left it at that.
“So who are we screwing over today my light skinned friend?” “We’re going big time today Ice. I need all of the information you can get me on Boss Tanaka. And if that weren’t bad enough I need you to do a little ‘life modification’ for an officer Luke Jackson. Recently retired due to a large amount of money he just seemed to stumble into.” “So what are we doing? Deleting his bank accounts? Changing his passwords?” “Nothing like that actually, quite the opposite. We’re going to give him quite a bit more money than he already has.” The Iceman looked perplexed for a moment and then caught on to what he was doing. “Ahh, very clever my friend. Shall I be accompanying that with an anonymous call?” “No, but you will need to add a little something so to steer the police of their own accord to look into things. Perhaps just a little ‘misdirected’ email to someone in a position to be a little suspicious.” The Iceman had always liked the way this man thought. “OK we’ll handle that little bit first.” “Break it up into two hundred and fifty grand increments spaced out at exactly one week periods starting three months ago.” “No problem.” The Iceman typed furiously on all of his keyboards. Elias had always been amazed at the man’s ability to pay attention to every one of his monitors at once, especially while typing as he did on three keyboards. It was undoubtedly his ability to multi-task that kept Julio ahead of the authorities and anybody else that may be snooping for him. One of the Alphas purred to life and Julio started dumping pages of information into the print queue. Within minutes they had well over two hundred pages of information all pertaining to Officer Jackson. Every bit of information that anyone could ever want. His juvenile record, his now edited bank records, bills for the last five years, purchases. “Hell you’ve even got where he gets his hair cut. That’s amazing Ice.” “Naw, pretty easy to do in this age of credit cards and online purchasing.” Put that EBay listing at the top of the stack. This is going to find it’s way into the hands of someone that counts. Print off two more copies. I need a copy for the job and I want to have a back up in case the first gets mysteriously lost.”
“Tanaka’s gonna be a little harder to find. Someone like that tends to have a board man to keep his business secret.” “I know, but that’s not entirely what I want either. I want to know who he’s got on payroll, where his money’s going and where it’s coming from. I want to know his habits as much as we can find.” “As I said that’s going to be a little more difficult. I can piece together what I can and we’ll go from there. But a lot of the information that you want is going to take old fashioned legwork.” The Viper figured that would be the answer and simply nodded. “Find what you can and we’ll find out what we need after all of that.”
The Iceman pounded furiously on his keyboards again, images flashing and changing on the monitors as the Iceman flipped from server to server to government database to state records. All of the information seemed to only stay on a monitor for a brief second before it changed to something different. The Viper couldn’t keep up with it all and it made his head spin after a couple of minutes. However the Iceman could keep up with all of it and tagged several interesting bits for monitors as he kept scrounging for the desired information. He pointed to one of the screens as everything started printing out. “That’s the blueprint for his house from public records. Says that he put in for a permit several weeks ago so this may not be up to date, but that’s all that I could find. The permit doesn’t say exactly what it’s for. Money can buy about anything you want, and his apparently paid for an inspector not to worry about what he was doing.” The Viper nodded again and looked to another screen. “Is that all of them? That’s gotta be half the force.” The screen that the Viper pointed to was the payable screen for Matsuo Tanaka’s accountant. There were nearly three hundred withdrawals by police officers and other local government officials. The whole plot seemed to go deeper than even he thought it did. “I know. Anyone you know on the list?” “Nope, never met any of these people in my life, but I have a feeling that I soon will.”
Shin Lao had a much easier time of things. The dealership that she visited just outside of Cooperstown was called ‘Jolly Johnny’s’ and the owner certainly was jovial. A chubby man with a horrible comb over and an ill fitting suit greeted her with far too much enthusiasm. The man reeked of sleazy car dealer but he sold quality vehicles so she would endure the cat and mouse game of buying an expensive vehicle. “Good Morning my dear! Welcome to Jolly Johnny’s. We’ve got the best prices on the vehicles that you want. Can I interest you in this new Mercedes? A woman of your clearly refined tastes would look fabulous in a car like this.” The man launched into his sales pitch before she even had the chance to look around. “I’m here for one thing and I see it right over there. I want the 4.8L V8 BMW X5. I want it in black and I want the six speed manual.” Johnny seemed taken aback for a second by the way the beautiful woman seemed to spout the specs of his vehicles. He hadn’t taken her for someone who knew much about cars but apparently she knew what she wanted, and thankfully it was pricey. “Well that’s a fine choice my dear. Let me just work up the price and we’ll get the paperwork together.” “Fine. I’ll wait right here.”
It didn’t take Johnny long to draw up paperwork and he was almost drooling over the pricey sale. “A vehicle like that would normally go for about sixty five thousand, but I shaved off three thousand just for you and threw in the six disk changer.” Even after making the sale Johnny was still trying to sell her. “Gift wrap it if it’ll make you happy, but I just want to drive out with it today.” “Not a problem dear. Do you have a loan partner lined up already or would you like to make the call from here?” Shin Lao produced the needed money from the briefcase that she was carrying with her and Jolly Johnny’s jaw dropped. He’d seen people pay cash for cars before but this customer pulled out the exact amount for the luxury vehicle without even batting an eye. “It’s all there, and a little extra to get me out of here in the next thirty minutes.” Avarice was a common trait amongst most car dealers and Jolly Johnny was particularly susceptible. “Of course my dear. Just need you to sign this paperwork and we’ll be good to go.” Shin Lao of course signed the paperwork with an identity that she’d had created for her a few years ago by the Iceman and as her paperwork went through everything came up as legitimate and Jolly Johnny breathed a sigh of relief. From the moment he saw that amount of cash that this customer was carrying he was afraid he was dealing with some mob business but the checks that he was required to perform read that Nicole Yuen was simply a successful broker. He then handed over the keys to the customer’s vehicle and smiled. “Don’t forget to tell your friends about my dealership. Word of mouth is the best form of advertisement.” “I sure will” she replied, trying hard to hide her impatience with the man. She pulled out of the lot and pointed the new BMW back towards New York City. It would take a few days to outfit the vehicle the way it needed to be.
Sitting in his office the Viper relaxed a bit and leaned in his chair. Skinner sat in the corner reading a book on the history of firearms that he had found on the bookshelf. “So here’s the plan everybody.” The Viper’s sudden exclamation brought everybody to attention. “You don’t need to be involved in this Skinner if you don’t want to. I’m going to tell you up front that we’re likely going to torture and or kill a cop. Jackson was indeed the one who pulled the trigger. He’s as twisted as they come. He’s deep in Tanaka’s payroll. He’s something of a hired gun, a replacement killer, for when something goes wrong with Tanaka’s normal hitters. We need to do this before someone realizes that I’m alive and they send out the advance guards.”
“I’m in this until the end. I told Shin Lao that before we got here and I intend to keep my word.” All right but you’ve been warned. It could very well be your career if not your life if someone sees you running around with professionals.” “It doesn’t matter much, it seems that half of the policemen in my precinct are dirty anyway so what’s the difference.” Skinner leaned back in the chair he was occupying by the bookshelves. This was by far the most hectic week he’d ever had. Shin Lao piped up from the other room where she had been changing out of her funeral dress and into some “work clothes”. “So where do we start?” “We start with Jackson. I’ve had some bugs planted in his apartment over the last couple of days. It’s funny how much you can accomplish when you have a technical genius at your employ. I had the Iceman go in as a cable man and plant several cameras and listening devices around his apartment. We’ll know who he’s talking to, where he is, and where he’ll be next thanks for him. First we study him while I do the work on the new guns.”
Shin Lao left the room for a minute and returned with her duffle bag. She pulled out the twin Desert Eagles that had belonged to the Viper and set them on the desk in front of him. “No need for that Elias.” He smiled at her and picked up the familiar hand cannons and studied them. “Well no need for that step at least. We’re going to need to pick up a new car though. I need something that can haul an arsenal and your Escalade seems to be the worse for wear. After that you’ll have to visit Edgar and pick up some large munitions. This isn’t going to be a job to be subtle for too long. Skinner, while we’re doing all of this I’m going to need you to work the surveillance. You know what to look and listen for just as well, if not better than the rest of us. I’ll make up a grocery list and we’ll get started in the morning. In the meantime however I’ve got to get used to being alive again. Care for a beer detective?” “Is it that German sludge like you brought over that night?” “Of course it is. Wouldn’t have anything else in my place.” “Then I say yes and bring a tall glass.”
The trio spent the majority of the night telling old tales. Skinner’s stories didn’t quite stack up to the exploits of the two professionals but despite the fact that he was currently hanging out with two criminals he enjoyed himself and perhaps loosened up for the first time in a while. It’s twisted moments like these that cause a person to question themselves. The stomach of potent German beer doesn’t do anything to dissuade the mind much either. It was at this point that detective Leonard Skinner started to question his life. He had put nearly twenty years into the police force. Until a few days ago he was certain that they were all just as dedicated and law abiding as he was. He found out quite the opposite and now seemed to question himself.
He also noticed that as the night progressed that the two killers seemed to move closer and closer to each other until at one point Shin Lao was nestled against the Viper’s side with his arm around her shoulder. Skinner suddenly felt like a third wheel and snuck off to a couch in the other room to sleep the alcohol off.
He was awakened at about six in the morning by the thundering of large caliber pistol fire. He sprang up suddenly awake with the .45 ACP in his hand, frantically scanning the dark room. When he was satisfied that there was no attacker present he started going through the house. He came to a door that he hadn’t quite noticed the night before and opened it slowly. The white room on the other side made him squint his newly awakened eyes and didn’t help the slight hangover he was nursing. He didn’t know why he was surprised that the Viper had a small shooting range hidden in here somewhere but he was. And there stood the Viper firing round after round into targets at the other end of the range. The large caliber bullets were tearing up the thin targets. He was truly amazed at the accuracy the man had with those two hand cannons as he loaded round after round into nearly the same spots. “Good morning detective” The Viper said without even turning around. Even with the protective ear guards and the staccato thunder of the twin .50’s.
Skinner just grunted and walked up to the stall. “Care to give it a shot? They’re a little big for some people, but you’ve been shooting for a while now. You should be able to handle it.” Skinner didn’t know quite what to say as he’d been so roughly awakened and the brief adrenaline boost had worn off, leaving him in that “just woke up” state of mind. “Sure. Anything I should know about these pieces? Everybody’s ranted about how much you’ve modified these things.” “Nope, they’re just a lot lighter, but they’re nose-heavy to cut down on the recoil. Gas vent may surprise you a bit at first if you’re not used to them. The vents cut down on the report so you may still hear it, but you wouldn’t know I’m packing something that could crack an engine block.” Skinner nodded. The man certainly knew his firearms.
The detective was certainly surprised by the low weight of the guns, but found the end heavy factor a little odd at first. He settled a pair of hearing protectors over his ears and tried to aim the two pistols at the fresh target. The two blasts that came out of the gun did certainly surprise him. He wasn’t used to firing two pistols at once and his left arm shot down unexpectedly. The Viper chuckled behind him and nudged him to get his attention. “Try it with just the one. It’s a world of difference.” Skinner put down one of the pistols and assumed a firm stance. He emptied the clip into the target amazed at how accurate the pistol was. “That’s a nice piece of work. Not what I expected from a .50.” The Viper took the pistol back from Skinner and holstered them both. “It’s time to start watching our target. I’ll make some breakfast and then we’ve got to get our heads in the game. I’d recommend firing a couple of rounds in here before we hit the street. In our game you either hit your target the first time or you’re dead. There’s no ‘Freeze’ in our world. Shoot first or be killed.” Skinner nodded and picked his .45 up off of the table. “You’ll find ammunition on the table by the third stall. Try out a few types and find out what works best for you. I like the standard ammunition but there are a few different types there. I hear the AET’s are nice, but I didn’t like the way they fired.” He left the range and Skinner standing there alone in the stark white room to fire into several targets.
When Skinner left the range close to an hour later the Viper had made some semblance of breakfast. Eggs, bacon, hash browns and wheat toast. He had made some coffee but Skinner couldn’t place the scent. It must be some serious gourmet stuff just like the rest of the Viper’s life. Skinner ate everything up quickly as his stomach was complaining both that it was empty and that he had drank too much the night before on a nearly empty stomach. Shin Lao joined them a couple of minutes later fresh out of the shower and the sight of her damp from just drying off both excited and saddened Skinner. They ate breakfast while all three of them discussed the day’s events. The plan for the first day was simple. Skinner was to watch Jackson at his home while Shin Lao went out and bought a new ‘battle wagon’. The Viper would go to the Iceman and do whatever it was that they did.
The Viper called the Iceman shortly after breakfast. “Hey get your Cuban ass outta bed. I know you’re rich but damn, you’re burning daylight.” Skinner could hear a raised voice coming from the other end of the phone. He looked at the Viper with a questioning look and he mouthed the words “He’s not Cuban” to Skinner which produced a little bit of a chuckle. He supposed that even hit men could joke around just like anybody else. “Yeah I know you’re not Cuban, but damn it’s almost nine. I thought siesta wasn’t until after lunch.” Skinner heard the raised voice from the other end of the phone again and smiled now that he knew that he was just ribbing the man on the other end of the phone. The conversation after that was just business talk and he hung up after a couple of minutes. “I’m gonna head over to Ice’s place for a bit to dig up some dirt and make a couple of lives hard to live. Just watch what Jackson does and we’ll figure out where to step after that.”
Skinner felt a little sidelined at this point. Everybody else would be out there physically doing something while he simply sat here and basically watched television. The sights that he saw on the screen simply sickened him. Here was essentially a decorated beat officer talking of things like contracts and making drug deals. Skinner would never have guess by the brief interactions he’d had with the policeman. Shin Lao leaned over his shoulder and watched the screen for a couple of minutes with a grim face. “Kind of a wake up call isn’t it.” “For sure.” Skinner simply replied as he continued watching the screen. His faith in humanity was dwindling quickly as he watched the former officer act just like any common ganger. “I’m going out to pick up the vehicle. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Watch the fort. Just hit this button to switch to the house cameras if you hear anything.” She hit the button and cycled through the various cameras positioned through the house.
Skinner was left to himself as both of the professionals left to go about their tasks. Skinner sipped at his expensive coffee and simply watched for hours as the man just seemed to get sleazier and sleazier.
The Viper quickly made the trip to the Iceman’s estate. He pushed the button by the high iron gate that sealed the large mansion off from the rest of the world. A voice came through the speaker box shortly and informed him that the gate would be opening shortly. He drove the Aston Martin into the driveway and parked it around the side of the huge house. He waved to the usual man by the front door. Money bought security, however a lot of money bought loyal security and the Viper had known this man for years. “Morning Raoul. How’s the family?” “Eh, they’re fine. Wife’s in a fine mood the last couple a days.” The Viper chuckled. It seemed that Raoul was always having issues with his wife. It was good to see that some things never changed.
The front doors opened into a phenomenally large antechamber that was something out of Scarface. It was filled with urns and paintings and in face the high domed ceiling had been painted with a replica of the Sistine Chapel. Julio met him at the top of one of the twin sweeping stairways. “Cuban eh? I was wondering how long it would take you to get to Cuban.” “Don’t worry, there’s many more Hispanic races I can go through Julio, and we’ve still got plenty of time to go through them.” The tall, skinny Hispanic smiled at the top of the stairs. “Well, let’s get to work my friend. As you so politely reminded me earlier, we’re burning daylight.” They both walked through several rooms each of them lavishly decorated. But the Viper knew the truth. These rooms were all fronts, decorated simply for the sake of filling space. The Iceman rarely left his work room except to use the bathroom and to make something to eat.
The work room was truly a sight to behold however. Everything top of the line, resembling something out of a sci-fi movie. His main work center consisted of 14 monitors all mounted on semi-circular racks. He had three keyboards also in a semi-circle around an incredibly padded high backed rolling chair. To the left were six Alpha mainframes in tall ventilated racks. On the wall behind the computer workstation was a series of televisions all dedicated to security of the premises. On the far wall was all of the machinery he needed to make nearly any kind of documents that was needed. The Viper had once asked him why he didn’t print his own money. The Iceman had simply replied “What do I look like, a common criminal? Printing money is so low tech.” And he had left it at that.
“So who are we screwing over today my light skinned friend?” “We’re going big time today Ice. I need all of the information you can get me on Boss Tanaka. And if that weren’t bad enough I need you to do a little ‘life modification’ for an officer Luke Jackson. Recently retired due to a large amount of money he just seemed to stumble into.” “So what are we doing? Deleting his bank accounts? Changing his passwords?” “Nothing like that actually, quite the opposite. We’re going to give him quite a bit more money than he already has.” The Iceman looked perplexed for a moment and then caught on to what he was doing. “Ahh, very clever my friend. Shall I be accompanying that with an anonymous call?” “No, but you will need to add a little something so to steer the police of their own accord to look into things. Perhaps just a little ‘misdirected’ email to someone in a position to be a little suspicious.” The Iceman had always liked the way this man thought. “OK we’ll handle that little bit first.” “Break it up into two hundred and fifty grand increments spaced out at exactly one week periods starting three months ago.” “No problem.” The Iceman typed furiously on all of his keyboards. Elias had always been amazed at the man’s ability to pay attention to every one of his monitors at once, especially while typing as he did on three keyboards. It was undoubtedly his ability to multi-task that kept Julio ahead of the authorities and anybody else that may be snooping for him. One of the Alphas purred to life and Julio started dumping pages of information into the print queue. Within minutes they had well over two hundred pages of information all pertaining to Officer Jackson. Every bit of information that anyone could ever want. His juvenile record, his now edited bank records, bills for the last five years, purchases. “Hell you’ve even got where he gets his hair cut. That’s amazing Ice.” “Naw, pretty easy to do in this age of credit cards and online purchasing.” Put that EBay listing at the top of the stack. This is going to find it’s way into the hands of someone that counts. Print off two more copies. I need a copy for the job and I want to have a back up in case the first gets mysteriously lost.”
“Tanaka’s gonna be a little harder to find. Someone like that tends to have a board man to keep his business secret.” “I know, but that’s not entirely what I want either. I want to know who he’s got on payroll, where his money’s going and where it’s coming from. I want to know his habits as much as we can find.” “As I said that’s going to be a little more difficult. I can piece together what I can and we’ll go from there. But a lot of the information that you want is going to take old fashioned legwork.” The Viper figured that would be the answer and simply nodded. “Find what you can and we’ll find out what we need after all of that.”
The Iceman pounded furiously on his keyboards again, images flashing and changing on the monitors as the Iceman flipped from server to server to government database to state records. All of the information seemed to only stay on a monitor for a brief second before it changed to something different. The Viper couldn’t keep up with it all and it made his head spin after a couple of minutes. However the Iceman could keep up with all of it and tagged several interesting bits for monitors as he kept scrounging for the desired information. He pointed to one of the screens as everything started printing out. “That’s the blueprint for his house from public records. Says that he put in for a permit several weeks ago so this may not be up to date, but that’s all that I could find. The permit doesn’t say exactly what it’s for. Money can buy about anything you want, and his apparently paid for an inspector not to worry about what he was doing.” The Viper nodded again and looked to another screen. “Is that all of them? That’s gotta be half the force.” The screen that the Viper pointed to was the payable screen for Matsuo Tanaka’s accountant. There were nearly three hundred withdrawals by police officers and other local government officials. The whole plot seemed to go deeper than even he thought it did. “I know. Anyone you know on the list?” “Nope, never met any of these people in my life, but I have a feeling that I soon will.”
Shin Lao had a much easier time of things. The dealership that she visited just outside of Cooperstown was called ‘Jolly Johnny’s’ and the owner certainly was jovial. A chubby man with a horrible comb over and an ill fitting suit greeted her with far too much enthusiasm. The man reeked of sleazy car dealer but he sold quality vehicles so she would endure the cat and mouse game of buying an expensive vehicle. “Good Morning my dear! Welcome to Jolly Johnny’s. We’ve got the best prices on the vehicles that you want. Can I interest you in this new Mercedes? A woman of your clearly refined tastes would look fabulous in a car like this.” The man launched into his sales pitch before she even had the chance to look around. “I’m here for one thing and I see it right over there. I want the 4.8L V8 BMW X5. I want it in black and I want the six speed manual.” Johnny seemed taken aback for a second by the way the beautiful woman seemed to spout the specs of his vehicles. He hadn’t taken her for someone who knew much about cars but apparently she knew what she wanted, and thankfully it was pricey. “Well that’s a fine choice my dear. Let me just work up the price and we’ll get the paperwork together.” “Fine. I’ll wait right here.”
It didn’t take Johnny long to draw up paperwork and he was almost drooling over the pricey sale. “A vehicle like that would normally go for about sixty five thousand, but I shaved off three thousand just for you and threw in the six disk changer.” Even after making the sale Johnny was still trying to sell her. “Gift wrap it if it’ll make you happy, but I just want to drive out with it today.” “Not a problem dear. Do you have a loan partner lined up already or would you like to make the call from here?” Shin Lao produced the needed money from the briefcase that she was carrying with her and Jolly Johnny’s jaw dropped. He’d seen people pay cash for cars before but this customer pulled out the exact amount for the luxury vehicle without even batting an eye. “It’s all there, and a little extra to get me out of here in the next thirty minutes.” Avarice was a common trait amongst most car dealers and Jolly Johnny was particularly susceptible. “Of course my dear. Just need you to sign this paperwork and we’ll be good to go.” Shin Lao of course signed the paperwork with an identity that she’d had created for her a few years ago by the Iceman and as her paperwork went through everything came up as legitimate and Jolly Johnny breathed a sigh of relief. From the moment he saw that amount of cash that this customer was carrying he was afraid he was dealing with some mob business but the checks that he was required to perform read that Nicole Yuen was simply a successful broker. He then handed over the keys to the customer’s vehicle and smiled. “Don’t forget to tell your friends about my dealership. Word of mouth is the best form of advertisement.” “I sure will” she replied, trying hard to hide her impatience with the man. She pulled out of the lot and pointed the new BMW back towards New York City. It would take a few days to outfit the vehicle the way it needed to be.
12.18.2005
Name That Quote Time...
5 Points to whoever posts who either the author or the book the following quote came from:
"We were a silent, hidden thought in the folds of oblivion, and we have become a voice that causes the heavens to tremble"
"We were a silent, hidden thought in the folds of oblivion, and we have become a voice that causes the heavens to tremble"
Chapter 14
Chapter 14: The Viper
The Viper couldn’t remember a time when he had enjoyed a shower more in his life. For nearly two weeks he had been in hiding recovering from several bullet wounds. When the word had reached his ears that he was supposedly dead he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. He worked out a deal with the small funeral home upstate so that he could complete the illusion. As he washed the weeks of grime and the funeral grave dirt from his body he brushed his fingers over the three holes in his chest that were sloppily stitched while he lay in some grimy boiler room.
When he was finally able to move out of there without any assistance he made his way to a pay phone and called the one person he knew who didn’t travel in any of the same circles as him and his associates, the Iceman. Julio Gonzales made the two hour trip from his estate upstate to the seedy neighborhood he was calling from in roughly forty five minutes. This was unusual for Julio, not because he doubled and even tripled some speed limits, but because he actually left his estate. The Iceman rarely left the security of his “compound” as there were a number of people looking for him, the police being but a small portion of those. It wasn’t so much that they were looking for Julio Gonzales, but they would have loved to get their hands on the Iceman. His life was so filled with secrecy and paranoia that he didn’t distinguish between the two.
Julio was something of a phenom in the hacking community. He was an extreme example of the good that computers in low income public schools can accomplish. The out of date Apple IIE’s that the government had seen fit to donate to the run down school that served the hood rats of the barrio he grew up in had simply sparked his interest. He quickly learned BASIC and at the age of thirteen stole the parts for a computer of his own from a pawn shop. This computer was far and away more powerful than the cruddy Apples he worked with at school and he quickly found the bulletin board community.
From there it was a small jump to the hacker BBs and he spent all of his time there. School became a concern for those others who didn’t have the mind for the exploits he went on daily. In the infancy of the internet he discovered how to access bank records and cleverly transferred money to his parents in small increments at first then by the hundreds and eventually thousands of dollars. The police didn’t have the personnel or expertise to track him down as his knowledge that surpassed that of the supposed police experts on virtual crime. They moved out of the area into a somewhat decent area.
Still he stayed out of school and simply thirsted for more and more knowledge. He found his niche at about the age of seventeen when a kid from down the street had heard rumors of his exploits and asked for a fake ID so he could buy some beer. Julio’s equipment had been upgraded significantly from the time of his first computer and with his mind for details he pieced the thing together perfectly. He had even altered the state records so that the person on the ID actually existed in case the store owner was able to scan the ID. He started making money hand over fist at this endeavor and soon was responsible for inflating the population of his neighborhood by several hundred people.
He soon moved out of his parents’ house and rented a small apartment in Manhattan. His reputation spread quickly and he took the alias Iceman. Most of his clientele didn’t pick up on the nuances of his name. In the hacking and cracking communities “ICe” stood for Intrusion Countermeasures, and he was incredible at bypassing them. He provided forged papers, information, and record altering for whoever could pay his prices. His clients ranged from street thugs to Wall Street bankers and the money came in by the truckload.
At the age of 21 he bought the estate he currently resides in upstate and bought top of the line equipment and materials. The Viper became one of his bigger clients and one the only ones that he trusted in knowing where his residence was. It was a shock when the Viper called to ask him for someone to lay low for a bit. He had reluctantly driven into the city and picked him up. He was taken back by the image of the bearded grimy hitman.
He had filled him in on the situation and Julio gladly let him stay for a bit.
The Viper took advantage of the time he had to gather the information he needed and to recuperate a bit more. Unfortunately that little weasel Jackson had taken his guns after he was clearly dead so he was weaponless. He couldn’t go home for a time because he knew that Shin Lao would go there eventually and if her grief didn’t appear genuine at his service then the whole thing would undoubtedly be blown. So he laid low until the time would be right to set up his fake funeral. The thought of climbing through the grave dirt gave him a shiver and he moved beyond that. The weight of the two Desert Eagles that Shin had laid in the casket was something reassuring and had taken an incredible effort of will not to move a single muscle. He hated doing this to her, but he hoped she would understand after the whole plan came to light.
And so after a quick ride back with Julio he noticed the wrecked guard rail and the glass fragments on the interstate and forced the Iceman to drive faster than he was currently. He had breathed a sigh of relief when he noted the beaten up Escalade parked in his garage.
He got out of the shower and shaved again despite the fact that he had shaved earlier that morning. The memory of the beard for some reason repulsed him and he needed to be clean shaven. He left the bathroom with a towel wrapped around him and nearly walked into Skinner on the way to his bedroom. The detective stared at the three bullet wounds in the man’s chest and gasped. He looked at the dozens of bruises along his abdomen and chest as well. “What the hell happened? By the looks of things the reports of your death were almost true.” The Viper glanced down at the wounds that he had tried hard to put out of his mind. “I’ll fill you guys in later. For the time being don’t tell Shin about them. She’ll find out in her own time, but we’ve got things to do before then and I’ve desperately got to get back into character.” Skinner let him go without a word and sat down in his desk chair, leaning back like he did in his own chair. He would have to get himself one of these chairs he thought to himself. The thing was much more comfortable than the one he sat in for hours a day in his own office.
A few minutes later the Viper emerged from his bedroom dressed much like he normally was. He had what looked like a black shirt in his hand and he showed it to Skinner. He noted the three holes that were present and smiled at him. “Kevlar eh? No wonder you’re so hard to kill.” “It’s the only thing that’s kept me alive I think. That bastard Jackson used hollowpoints though and a couple snuck through. It stopped the rest of them though so I must have done something right sometime. Where’s Shin?” “She’s out back. You might want to talk to her; she’s still a little upset. She loves you more than she lets on you know.” “I know. Things haven’t exactly gone our way though.” The Viper walked down the hallway towards the door to the garage without saying another word and walked out to the back field of his base.
He kept roughly three acres on all sides of his place clean cut so that people couldn’t sneak up on him and thankfully no one but who he let in had found his place yet. Shin Lao was indeed walking alone in the back field. Her back was to him with her arms crossed over themselves. Her head was looking down as if there was an interesting trail that she was following. He jogged up to her, the sting from his chest reminding him that he almost didn’t have this opportunity. “Hey” he said simply. He did indeed love her but people were something he hadn’t really had much of a connection to in years. He tended to come across as cold and emotionless to people he tried to be close to so he had given up after a time. Except Shin Lao was different and was essentially the warm little center of his world that reminded him that people were worth being close to.
“Hey” She returned, a sad and dejected tone to her voice that she didn’t try to hide. “I’m…sorry I didn’t try to get in touch with you. Things just seemed to work against me getting in touch with anyone, and then I heard that I was dead and used that to give us a little leeway. I’m going for the Big One.” Shin Lao turned around on him sharply with a look that could have cut through steel. “You’re determined to get yourself killed aren’t you?! I’ve already dealt with you dying once and I don’t like the feeling too much.” Her face softened a bit when she looked into his eyes and forgot her anger for a moment. It was true that you tended to hurt the ones you love, even if you don’t intend to. She could see the pain across his face for perhaps the first time in the length of their “relationship” “What’s wrong?” She asked. She didn’t need him to tell her that there was something not quite right. She did this too for a living and he couldn’t hide much in that regard from her.
“I almost did die Shin. The holes still aren’t completely healed. I did a pretty shoddy job stitching them up and didn’t exactly have medical facilities at my disposal.” “So, how was it? Was it one of Tanaka’s boys, an outsider…a professional?” “You’re somewhat right on all of those counts. It was a cop under Tanaka’s employment. I was doing a job for Shojuzaki and he came out of nowhere and plugged me. I still don’t know if it was an ambush or not on Shojuzaki’s part but either way everybody thought I was dead, and why wouldn’t they? Jackson put my guns up for auction and sent the link to everybody that mattered.” “How do you know all of this? We haven’t even come across that information except by accident.” “I stayed with Iceman for a couple of days. I had him look up a lot of things while I was there, and Jackson’s email was something that was quite easy to crack into.” Shin Lao had slipped into business mode without really realizing it and backtracked a bit. “So let me see it.” “Not it…them. Bastard clipped me a couple of times.” The Viper unbuttoned his shirt and showed her his chest. The three jagged wounds stood out like large blisters on his chest. She gasped sharply and put her hand to her face. She knew that by all rights he should have been dead. “And the Kevlar? Did you finally wear that shirt I got you a long time ago?” “Yeah, it was the only thing that saved my life. It took a lot of SMG fire before he resorted to his pistol with the cop killers in it.”
She sighed and looked up at his face again. She reached up and put her arms around his neck and smiled. He face drew close to his and she whispered “You need to be more careful, I’m not going to lose you again.” She kissed him softly and pulled back inches from his face. “Now let’s go relax for a bit before you decide to stir up the hornets nest.” The Viper smiled and buttoned his shirt back up. He reached around her waist and laid his head down on her shoulder. “I intend to Shin. This is going to be my last job.” He saw the look she gave him out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah I know I’ve said that before, but I mean it. I’m taking out Tanaka and whoever else I can before I’m done. I’m gonna go out with a bang.” “Whatever superman, let’s just go back inside.”
The Viper couldn’t remember a time when he had enjoyed a shower more in his life. For nearly two weeks he had been in hiding recovering from several bullet wounds. When the word had reached his ears that he was supposedly dead he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. He worked out a deal with the small funeral home upstate so that he could complete the illusion. As he washed the weeks of grime and the funeral grave dirt from his body he brushed his fingers over the three holes in his chest that were sloppily stitched while he lay in some grimy boiler room.
When he was finally able to move out of there without any assistance he made his way to a pay phone and called the one person he knew who didn’t travel in any of the same circles as him and his associates, the Iceman. Julio Gonzales made the two hour trip from his estate upstate to the seedy neighborhood he was calling from in roughly forty five minutes. This was unusual for Julio, not because he doubled and even tripled some speed limits, but because he actually left his estate. The Iceman rarely left the security of his “compound” as there were a number of people looking for him, the police being but a small portion of those. It wasn’t so much that they were looking for Julio Gonzales, but they would have loved to get their hands on the Iceman. His life was so filled with secrecy and paranoia that he didn’t distinguish between the two.
Julio was something of a phenom in the hacking community. He was an extreme example of the good that computers in low income public schools can accomplish. The out of date Apple IIE’s that the government had seen fit to donate to the run down school that served the hood rats of the barrio he grew up in had simply sparked his interest. He quickly learned BASIC and at the age of thirteen stole the parts for a computer of his own from a pawn shop. This computer was far and away more powerful than the cruddy Apples he worked with at school and he quickly found the bulletin board community.
From there it was a small jump to the hacker BBs and he spent all of his time there. School became a concern for those others who didn’t have the mind for the exploits he went on daily. In the infancy of the internet he discovered how to access bank records and cleverly transferred money to his parents in small increments at first then by the hundreds and eventually thousands of dollars. The police didn’t have the personnel or expertise to track him down as his knowledge that surpassed that of the supposed police experts on virtual crime. They moved out of the area into a somewhat decent area.
Still he stayed out of school and simply thirsted for more and more knowledge. He found his niche at about the age of seventeen when a kid from down the street had heard rumors of his exploits and asked for a fake ID so he could buy some beer. Julio’s equipment had been upgraded significantly from the time of his first computer and with his mind for details he pieced the thing together perfectly. He had even altered the state records so that the person on the ID actually existed in case the store owner was able to scan the ID. He started making money hand over fist at this endeavor and soon was responsible for inflating the population of his neighborhood by several hundred people.
He soon moved out of his parents’ house and rented a small apartment in Manhattan. His reputation spread quickly and he took the alias Iceman. Most of his clientele didn’t pick up on the nuances of his name. In the hacking and cracking communities “ICe” stood for Intrusion Countermeasures, and he was incredible at bypassing them. He provided forged papers, information, and record altering for whoever could pay his prices. His clients ranged from street thugs to Wall Street bankers and the money came in by the truckload.
At the age of 21 he bought the estate he currently resides in upstate and bought top of the line equipment and materials. The Viper became one of his bigger clients and one the only ones that he trusted in knowing where his residence was. It was a shock when the Viper called to ask him for someone to lay low for a bit. He had reluctantly driven into the city and picked him up. He was taken back by the image of the bearded grimy hitman.
He had filled him in on the situation and Julio gladly let him stay for a bit.
The Viper took advantage of the time he had to gather the information he needed and to recuperate a bit more. Unfortunately that little weasel Jackson had taken his guns after he was clearly dead so he was weaponless. He couldn’t go home for a time because he knew that Shin Lao would go there eventually and if her grief didn’t appear genuine at his service then the whole thing would undoubtedly be blown. So he laid low until the time would be right to set up his fake funeral. The thought of climbing through the grave dirt gave him a shiver and he moved beyond that. The weight of the two Desert Eagles that Shin had laid in the casket was something reassuring and had taken an incredible effort of will not to move a single muscle. He hated doing this to her, but he hoped she would understand after the whole plan came to light.
And so after a quick ride back with Julio he noticed the wrecked guard rail and the glass fragments on the interstate and forced the Iceman to drive faster than he was currently. He had breathed a sigh of relief when he noted the beaten up Escalade parked in his garage.
He got out of the shower and shaved again despite the fact that he had shaved earlier that morning. The memory of the beard for some reason repulsed him and he needed to be clean shaven. He left the bathroom with a towel wrapped around him and nearly walked into Skinner on the way to his bedroom. The detective stared at the three bullet wounds in the man’s chest and gasped. He looked at the dozens of bruises along his abdomen and chest as well. “What the hell happened? By the looks of things the reports of your death were almost true.” The Viper glanced down at the wounds that he had tried hard to put out of his mind. “I’ll fill you guys in later. For the time being don’t tell Shin about them. She’ll find out in her own time, but we’ve got things to do before then and I’ve desperately got to get back into character.” Skinner let him go without a word and sat down in his desk chair, leaning back like he did in his own chair. He would have to get himself one of these chairs he thought to himself. The thing was much more comfortable than the one he sat in for hours a day in his own office.
A few minutes later the Viper emerged from his bedroom dressed much like he normally was. He had what looked like a black shirt in his hand and he showed it to Skinner. He noted the three holes that were present and smiled at him. “Kevlar eh? No wonder you’re so hard to kill.” “It’s the only thing that’s kept me alive I think. That bastard Jackson used hollowpoints though and a couple snuck through. It stopped the rest of them though so I must have done something right sometime. Where’s Shin?” “She’s out back. You might want to talk to her; she’s still a little upset. She loves you more than she lets on you know.” “I know. Things haven’t exactly gone our way though.” The Viper walked down the hallway towards the door to the garage without saying another word and walked out to the back field of his base.
He kept roughly three acres on all sides of his place clean cut so that people couldn’t sneak up on him and thankfully no one but who he let in had found his place yet. Shin Lao was indeed walking alone in the back field. Her back was to him with her arms crossed over themselves. Her head was looking down as if there was an interesting trail that she was following. He jogged up to her, the sting from his chest reminding him that he almost didn’t have this opportunity. “Hey” he said simply. He did indeed love her but people were something he hadn’t really had much of a connection to in years. He tended to come across as cold and emotionless to people he tried to be close to so he had given up after a time. Except Shin Lao was different and was essentially the warm little center of his world that reminded him that people were worth being close to.
“Hey” She returned, a sad and dejected tone to her voice that she didn’t try to hide. “I’m…sorry I didn’t try to get in touch with you. Things just seemed to work against me getting in touch with anyone, and then I heard that I was dead and used that to give us a little leeway. I’m going for the Big One.” Shin Lao turned around on him sharply with a look that could have cut through steel. “You’re determined to get yourself killed aren’t you?! I’ve already dealt with you dying once and I don’t like the feeling too much.” Her face softened a bit when she looked into his eyes and forgot her anger for a moment. It was true that you tended to hurt the ones you love, even if you don’t intend to. She could see the pain across his face for perhaps the first time in the length of their “relationship” “What’s wrong?” She asked. She didn’t need him to tell her that there was something not quite right. She did this too for a living and he couldn’t hide much in that regard from her.
“I almost did die Shin. The holes still aren’t completely healed. I did a pretty shoddy job stitching them up and didn’t exactly have medical facilities at my disposal.” “So, how was it? Was it one of Tanaka’s boys, an outsider…a professional?” “You’re somewhat right on all of those counts. It was a cop under Tanaka’s employment. I was doing a job for Shojuzaki and he came out of nowhere and plugged me. I still don’t know if it was an ambush or not on Shojuzaki’s part but either way everybody thought I was dead, and why wouldn’t they? Jackson put my guns up for auction and sent the link to everybody that mattered.” “How do you know all of this? We haven’t even come across that information except by accident.” “I stayed with Iceman for a couple of days. I had him look up a lot of things while I was there, and Jackson’s email was something that was quite easy to crack into.” Shin Lao had slipped into business mode without really realizing it and backtracked a bit. “So let me see it.” “Not it…them. Bastard clipped me a couple of times.” The Viper unbuttoned his shirt and showed her his chest. The three jagged wounds stood out like large blisters on his chest. She gasped sharply and put her hand to her face. She knew that by all rights he should have been dead. “And the Kevlar? Did you finally wear that shirt I got you a long time ago?” “Yeah, it was the only thing that saved my life. It took a lot of SMG fire before he resorted to his pistol with the cop killers in it.”
She sighed and looked up at his face again. She reached up and put her arms around his neck and smiled. He face drew close to his and she whispered “You need to be more careful, I’m not going to lose you again.” She kissed him softly and pulled back inches from his face. “Now let’s go relax for a bit before you decide to stir up the hornets nest.” The Viper smiled and buttoned his shirt back up. He reached around her waist and laid his head down on her shoulder. “I intend to Shin. This is going to be my last job.” He saw the look she gave him out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah I know I’ve said that before, but I mean it. I’m taking out Tanaka and whoever else I can before I’m done. I’m gonna go out with a bang.” “Whatever superman, let’s just go back inside.”
12.17.2005
Chapter 13
Chapter 13: Into the Viper’s Pit
When Skinner woke up he didn’t recognize his surroundings. He seemed to be in some sort of garage. He sat up and cleared the sleep from his eyes and nearly had his breath taken away. There had to be at least half a million dollars worth of cars surrounding the Escalade he sat in alone. Climbing out he recognized the Aston Martin that they had spent so much time in several days before. Aside from the performance beast there was a silver Mercedes SLK, several foreign sports cars, but the thing that stuck out the most was the black Honda Prelude that sat to the side by the tool bench. It stuck out like a sore thumb among all of the high end vehicles in the garage. “Don’t underestimate that one Skinner. It’ll leave you in the dust before you can blink. Besides if all you drive around in is top dollar cars, you’re going to stick out a bit in some neighborhoods. That’s his plain clothes car. No one notices it because everybody else has one.” It made sense to Skinner and he looked up the stairs to where Shin Lao was leaning against the steel railing chewing on an apple.
“Is this place yours?” Skinner felt kind of stupid asking the question a second after it had escaped his mouth. He knew damn well who’s place this was just by looking around at it. “No, this is what we affectionately dubbed The Viper’s Pit. This was his place.” She turned and walked through the door into the building. Skinner jogged up the stairs stiffly, his limbs still seemed to want to sleep. What he walked into was a sharp contrast to the clean, yet still rough garage.
The walls on the other side of that door were all a pale blue and decorated with all manner of fine Asian artwork. Masks, paintings, sculptures and several display cases with old weapons and such lined the hallway leading into a larger room which contained a desk and several bookshelves. This room was also lined with various masks and melee weapons of centuries past. “Wow, he certainly had an eye for art. I bet this stuff must be worth a couple million.” “Fourteen point six million to be exact. He had it appraised not too long ago. “Skinner’s jaw dropped suddenly as he gazed around the room.
Shin Lao was sitting at the desk seemingly absorbed in some file or another. “So what other amenities come with the modern hitman’s home?” Skinner tried to lighten the mood a bit but Shin Lao just point to a switch on the far side of a book case. “Could you turn that light on for me?” Skinner walked over and flipped the switch. As he was about to turn and look for what light had just come on the bookshelf slid out and to the side revealing a long dark room. He looked back at Shin Lao and he glanced up briefly and smiled. As he passed through the threshold into the room a series of lights flickered to life and revealed a long wide room full of various weapons and accompanying ammunition. “There has to be somewhere around four hundred different weapons here. Did he really use all of these?” “At one time or another yes. He preferred his pistols but sometimes a little more firepower was needed. Other times he just couldn’t bring those hand cannons in for a job so he went for something a little more concealable.” Skinner had just noticed that her voice had been getting closer and she was now leaning against the empty threshold looking in at him. “He worked on most of his guns in here.” She pointed to another door at the end of the room. “His workshop is back there. He used to do some amazing things with standard firearms. I still use the rifle that he modified after our first mission together. It’s taken a beating but it’s still in pretty decent shape.”
Skinner walked to the back of the room and opened the door which revealed a fully loaded gun smithing shop. There were several drill presses and a couple of different machines that he didn’t entirely recognize. Parts littered one bench off to the side. Skinner recognized the materials for silencers right off. “He had so many different weapons because he modified each one for a specific job.” Skinner turned off the light and shut the door feeling that she wanted to show him something. “That shotgun there was for when he knew there’d be a large group of people. The trigger spring has been slackened so that he could fire off more rounds quickly. He shortened the barrel so that he could pull it more easily and get a wider arc on the shot so he could get more people at once.” She walked further down the rows and pointed to a pair of black Glocks hanging up on a board. “These ones were silent. The capacity was increased along with easier trigger pull and he bored out the barrels so he could pack a bigger bullet to make up for the lack of stopping power those things had. Every job had a specific tool and he knew just what to make. Having the best tools is the key to doing the best job.”
“I wholeheartedly agree” came the strange voice from the doorway. It must have just been the shock but after a minute Skinner’s mind cleared and he realized that he was looking at a dead man. Shin Lao’s jaw had dropped in shock as she didn’t know what to say or do. Tears crept into her eyes shortly before he face twisted in anger. “Don’t you EVER do anything like that again!! You nearly killed me!” She rushed to the disheveled man standing in the doorway and flailed at his chest and shoulders before finally succumbing and pushing her head into his chest and sobbed loudly. The Viper’s arms wrapped around her and he buried his head in her hair whispering reassurances to her. Skinner was just shocked. He had seen this man earlier in a casket, clearly dead. Hell he had even seen them start to bury him. He leaned against a shelf and let them have their moment.
When reality settled in the Viper looked up at him and smiled. “Good to see you again detective.” Skinner didn’t know what to say so simply nodded and continued to lean against his shelf. “There’s a lot to do but first I desperately need a shower”
When Skinner woke up he didn’t recognize his surroundings. He seemed to be in some sort of garage. He sat up and cleared the sleep from his eyes and nearly had his breath taken away. There had to be at least half a million dollars worth of cars surrounding the Escalade he sat in alone. Climbing out he recognized the Aston Martin that they had spent so much time in several days before. Aside from the performance beast there was a silver Mercedes SLK, several foreign sports cars, but the thing that stuck out the most was the black Honda Prelude that sat to the side by the tool bench. It stuck out like a sore thumb among all of the high end vehicles in the garage. “Don’t underestimate that one Skinner. It’ll leave you in the dust before you can blink. Besides if all you drive around in is top dollar cars, you’re going to stick out a bit in some neighborhoods. That’s his plain clothes car. No one notices it because everybody else has one.” It made sense to Skinner and he looked up the stairs to where Shin Lao was leaning against the steel railing chewing on an apple.
“Is this place yours?” Skinner felt kind of stupid asking the question a second after it had escaped his mouth. He knew damn well who’s place this was just by looking around at it. “No, this is what we affectionately dubbed The Viper’s Pit. This was his place.” She turned and walked through the door into the building. Skinner jogged up the stairs stiffly, his limbs still seemed to want to sleep. What he walked into was a sharp contrast to the clean, yet still rough garage.
The walls on the other side of that door were all a pale blue and decorated with all manner of fine Asian artwork. Masks, paintings, sculptures and several display cases with old weapons and such lined the hallway leading into a larger room which contained a desk and several bookshelves. This room was also lined with various masks and melee weapons of centuries past. “Wow, he certainly had an eye for art. I bet this stuff must be worth a couple million.” “Fourteen point six million to be exact. He had it appraised not too long ago. “Skinner’s jaw dropped suddenly as he gazed around the room.
Shin Lao was sitting at the desk seemingly absorbed in some file or another. “So what other amenities come with the modern hitman’s home?” Skinner tried to lighten the mood a bit but Shin Lao just point to a switch on the far side of a book case. “Could you turn that light on for me?” Skinner walked over and flipped the switch. As he was about to turn and look for what light had just come on the bookshelf slid out and to the side revealing a long dark room. He looked back at Shin Lao and he glanced up briefly and smiled. As he passed through the threshold into the room a series of lights flickered to life and revealed a long wide room full of various weapons and accompanying ammunition. “There has to be somewhere around four hundred different weapons here. Did he really use all of these?” “At one time or another yes. He preferred his pistols but sometimes a little more firepower was needed. Other times he just couldn’t bring those hand cannons in for a job so he went for something a little more concealable.” Skinner had just noticed that her voice had been getting closer and she was now leaning against the empty threshold looking in at him. “He worked on most of his guns in here.” She pointed to another door at the end of the room. “His workshop is back there. He used to do some amazing things with standard firearms. I still use the rifle that he modified after our first mission together. It’s taken a beating but it’s still in pretty decent shape.”
Skinner walked to the back of the room and opened the door which revealed a fully loaded gun smithing shop. There were several drill presses and a couple of different machines that he didn’t entirely recognize. Parts littered one bench off to the side. Skinner recognized the materials for silencers right off. “He had so many different weapons because he modified each one for a specific job.” Skinner turned off the light and shut the door feeling that she wanted to show him something. “That shotgun there was for when he knew there’d be a large group of people. The trigger spring has been slackened so that he could fire off more rounds quickly. He shortened the barrel so that he could pull it more easily and get a wider arc on the shot so he could get more people at once.” She walked further down the rows and pointed to a pair of black Glocks hanging up on a board. “These ones were silent. The capacity was increased along with easier trigger pull and he bored out the barrels so he could pack a bigger bullet to make up for the lack of stopping power those things had. Every job had a specific tool and he knew just what to make. Having the best tools is the key to doing the best job.”
“I wholeheartedly agree” came the strange voice from the doorway. It must have just been the shock but after a minute Skinner’s mind cleared and he realized that he was looking at a dead man. Shin Lao’s jaw had dropped in shock as she didn’t know what to say or do. Tears crept into her eyes shortly before he face twisted in anger. “Don’t you EVER do anything like that again!! You nearly killed me!” She rushed to the disheveled man standing in the doorway and flailed at his chest and shoulders before finally succumbing and pushing her head into his chest and sobbed loudly. The Viper’s arms wrapped around her and he buried his head in her hair whispering reassurances to her. Skinner was just shocked. He had seen this man earlier in a casket, clearly dead. Hell he had even seen them start to bury him. He leaned against a shelf and let them have their moment.
When reality settled in the Viper looked up at him and smiled. “Good to see you again detective.” Skinner didn’t know what to say so simply nodded and continued to lean against his shelf. “There’s a lot to do but first I desperately need a shower”
12.16.2005
Chapter 12
Chapter 12: Funeral for a Killer
They drove for about forty five minutes to a cemetery well upstate of New York City. He almost felt grateful for this as it meant that he possibly wouldn’t be made for a cop like Edgar had picked up on at their first meeting. It seemed to be situated just outside of a small town with a scenic view of the mountains that stretched just east of them. Skinner tucked his .45 into the back of his slacks and felt the pull across his waist tighten. “Yeah, I’ve definitely got to lose some more weight” he thought as he climbed out of the Escalade.
The row of expensive cars made him worry. Boss Tanaka was already after him and he was sure that these people weren’t of the normally friendly variety. Shin Lao had gone to the rear of the vehicle and pulled the two Desert Eagle .50’s out of the bag and strapped them into the shoulder holsters that Edgar had supplied. She slung it all over her should like she was carrying a purse, and not the thirty pounds of steel and brass that they were. The walked up to where the assembled group was standing. Skinner didn’t recognize any of the faces standing by the graveside. But he supposed that he probably wouldn’t as everybody traveled in opposite social circles.
They strode between the rows of gravestones casually, but Skinner was incredibly nervous. If Shin Lao was she certainly didn’t show it. A coy smile on her face they approached the massed criminals. “Don’t worry; no one will do anything today. It’s bad luck” She whispered to Skinner, setting his mind slightly more at ease. In fact after a second scanning the crowd he found none of the normal signs of concealed weapons. He was sure they were there, but these were obviously professionals and not your everyday hoodlums. They walked by everybody in emotional states varying between smug and sad. It was always a sad day when someone of his stature in the “community” finally fell, but they all knew it was inevitable; it was inevitable for all of them. There was no black and white here, everybody lived their lives in shades of grey. It was often the only way to persuade what little conscience some of them had that what they did was necessary.
They made the obligatory rounds with the crowd. They made small talk, reminisced with a few of them and avoided eye contact with others. Skinner was surprised at how personable some of these people were. They may be hired killers, but he supposed that at the end of the day they had lives as well. After stalling as much as they could, Shin Lao approached the casket that was waiting to be interred into the earth. “Excuse me for a moment Leonard; I’d like to be alone for a minute with him.” He hadn’t noticed that she’d called him by his first name until she was standing at the casket. He supposed that it was for the best as people might recognize his last name, and certainly in this crowd she couldn’t call him “detective”.
He watched her as she gracefully knelt down by the grave despite the soft earth and the narrow heels that she was wearing. She placed the two pistols into the casket and softly said something in a language Skinner didn’t understand, presumably Chinese. She stood just as gracefully with all the demeanor of a cat and walked back to where she had left Skinner. “Go on up, I’m sure he won’t mind.” Skinner reluctantly walked towards the grave. He didn’t like funerals and had been to many for his fellow fallen officers. For some reason this one was a little tough to deal with. He didn’t know this man as well as he knew his fellow officers, but still he felt that a good man had died and he’d certainly miss him. He also knew that with this man dead his hope for finding his daughter also died.
He looked down into the casket and there he was, the boogie man of the criminal underworld. This was the man that everybody feared, he’d become an urban myth, something of a ghost story that mothers told their children about. “Keep your nose out of shit or the Viper will one day have to rub you out.” “Good bye old boy. You always told the truth, which is more than I can say for the rest of us.” He looked down at the assembled group of mementos that the others had placed in there. Aside from the large firearms that Shin Lao had placed in there, there were also pictures, a few marked bullets from several different crime families and many other small trinkets. He had nothing to lay in there so he stood and painfully wiped the beginnings of a tear from beneath his sunglasses and walked back to Shin Lao.
Her sunglasses hid her eyes well but he knew that she had been crying. He felt that he needed to do something and so somewhat stiffly he put his arms around her in the best approximation of a hug that he could muster. Surprisingly she pressed her face against his chest and cried. She cried hard, which was something that Skinner guessed she had never done. The site of a friend or loved one in the casket cemented the fact that they were gone. There was no room for hope at that point. They were dead and all you had was the void that they used to fill. Skinner put his own head on her shoulder and the hell with what the assembled criminals thought. She pulled her head up from him and wiped her eyes. “The ceremony is about to begin.”
Everybody faced the front as the reverend cleared his throat. Skinner didn’t hear most of the graveside ceremony. He was someplace else. That nagging thought from last night kept coming back to him. The web page, the sale of the gun, Ghost_Widow, HKBOluvah, Jackson won the lottery, the guns, Jackson, Ghost_Widow. “Holy Shit!” Skinner muttered to himself. He looked next to him and noted that Shin Lao was looking at him. “I’ll tell you in the car.” He didn’t pay much attention to the rest of the ceremony either, only pricking up when he heard the man of God exclaim to the group “In Nomine Patri, Es Filli, Es Spirtu Sancti”
Everybody filed out of the graveyard solemnly. Hit men didn’t like to be in a place of the dead just as much as anybody else. It probably reminded them that they’ve put more than their fair share of bodies into these places. They climbed quietly into the Cadillac and Shin Lao started up the engine before she turned to Skinner. “So what was that about?” “I know who really killed the Viper; He was also the person who sold the guns as well. And I think you know who bought them. All I can’t figure out is why.” “So are you going to fill me in or do I have to torture it out of you?” She said this with a small smile, the first he’d really seen since they’d arrived. “There’s a police officer who just rather noisily decided to quit because he’d just won the lottery. I believe in fact that he’s the one who sold the guns because they were bought that morning. If he had his guns he either killed Elias, or he was around when it happened.” “OK so that explains that small bit, but who bought them?” “You did.” Skinner said this plainly and without any sort of emotion on his face. “It didn’t really fit together until I remembered that Edgar said your alias this morning. Ghost_widow bought the guns for a hefty price, and the name seems to fit together with everything happening this morning.”
“Very astute detective. No wonder Elias always talked about you. You are indeed a good detective. And as for why, I wanted to have something to remember him by, and that auction was the perfect opportunity. That man paid for my freedom with his life detective, I owed him that much at the very least. I didn’t want those to fall into some scumbag’s hands. It just didn’t feel right.” Skinner felt like a bastard. He’d had grand visions of master plans and twisted words, making him the patsy in some grand scheme. That had not been the case and he’d overlooked the emotional attachment that could exist between people. He’d been lacking that for quite some time, and his time on the force seeing all sorts of trash and killings kept him emotionally distant. “I apologize. But I think we’ve got something to move on with Officer Jackson.” “We? Detective what are you saying?” “I’m saying that I’m in until the end. I want to figure this thing out now just as much as you do. There’s twisted cops pouring out of the woodwork these last few days and I’d like to find as many as I can before I sit back in that office.” “You do realize that you may have to kill a few people if this turns badly detective. The rules are different for you than they are for me.” “I know, but in a way, I feel like I owe him a little something anyway. I don’t know why, but call it a personal investment.” “All right detective. It’s your funeral.” Skinner looked straight at her face. “No, it’s not Shin, and that’s what I have a problem with.”
They backed out onto the interstate that went past the cemetery. Skinner still felt like a bastard and Shin Lao had gone quiet for the moment. He adjusted his glasses, feeling like a low rent wanna-be next to all of those expensive suits. Any three of those suits combined probably added up to close to his yearly salary. Looking up one last time at the graveyard he noticed one of the many black sedans barreling towards them. “Um, I don’t think he’s gonna stop.” Skinner said quickly grabbing the .45 from his waist. He was waiting for some word from Shin Lao but she seemed to be sizing the situation up. “Hold on” She said simply as she gunned the engine. Sand and gravel kicked up a cloud of shrapnel and dust as the truck seemed to spin around on its axis, pointing them in the southbound lane.
The SUV seemed to be catapulted forward as soon as one of the rear tires touched pavement and they were up to eighty miles per hour very shortly. Skinner looked into his rear view mirror and saw that the sedan was still on their tail. “We’re not gonna shake em in this thing.” Skinner hated pointing out the obvious but he didn’t know what else to say in this situation. He noticed someone leaning out the passenger side window. The man’s submachine gun thankfully sprayed into open air as they took a tight turn on the hilly road. “What are you waiting for Skinner, start shooting back.” The electric motors for his window purred as it slid down. He looked into the mirror again and noticed the man was taking aim. “Sharp right!” Shin Lao barked out and Skinner noticed the tight turn that was coming up. He stuck his head out the window as the Escalade skidded around the corner fishtailing into the guard rail in a shower of sparks and noise. Skinner fired off several shots which all slammed into the windshield of the pursuing sedan. Apparently none of them struck anyone and he started firing until his clip was empty. “Sharp left, careful I’m gonna floor it.” Skinner ducked his head back inside the vehicle as the sounds of the rubber skidding across asphalt echoed through the woods on each side of the elevated road. Deep into the skid he heard the engine whine as it tried to accelerate but simply made the tires smoke.
In a sudden jolt the tires caught traction and they rocketed off. Skinned slammed another clip into his pistol and checked his mirror. The gunner didn’t have a clear shot as the sedan was just coming out of a skid itself. Skinner aimed for the hood of the car and drummed the trigger six times sending a hail of lead into trailing car. Another hail of gunfire pummeled the tailgate of the Cadillac, shattering the back hatch. “I’ve got a shotgun stashed in that forward compartment if you think you can get back there.” She didn’t take her eyes off the road as the truck neared one hundred and ten. The engine screamed, it wasn’t meant to endure this kind of speed but still seemed to handle like a dream. Skinner sent another rain of bullets into the other car as he dove into the empty back section of the large SUV. Opening the forward of the stow-away compartments he found a variety of what appeared to be bombs and ammunition. “What are these?” Skinner asked through the whipping wind coming in from the open back. “Oh, those are bombs. Don’t muck around with those yet, they’re not finished. The shotgun should be to the right. He rifled a bit and found the shotgun in the next compartment over.
He started sliding shells into the Ithaca combat shotgun as the Cadillac lurched forward roughly. He looked back and saw that the sedan was trying to ram them. The driver reached his hand out the window and fired a series of shots at the back of their truck. Skinner had to duck behind the cover of the tailgate. When the shots died down for a second he popped up and fired off two shells into the windshield. It seemed to explode inside of the car and sent them swerving for several critical seconds. He now had a clear shot and fired another slug into the car, clipping the driver. The slug turned the man’s shoulder into ground meat and he swerved sharply to the right riding the guard rail in a shower of sparks. “Good shooting detective but I don’t think you’ve bought much time. We’ve got to get off this road.” Indeed as Skinner looked back at the rapidly shrinking car the driver was slipping into the passenger seat and the sound of barking tires filled the clear wilderness air just before they followed the road behind a series of trees.
The other hitters caught up quickly but fortunately the previous driver couldn’t fire his pistol too steadily. Thankfully the driver couldn’t have too many options for trying to dodge and Skinner squeezed the trigger another two times, the bark of the shotgun in the confined space nearly making him deaf. The driver swerved and instead of a killing shot, his slugs buried into the back seat. He ejected the spent shell from the shotgun and realized that it was the last one. He pulled out the ammo box that held the shells and noticed a smaller box inside of it. “What are these?” He shouted over the wailing howl of wind. “Those are phosphorus rounds. Not much for range but they do all the damage you could ever want. I use them since they’re the only thing that I’ve found that will burn through a vest.” “They’ll do for what I want.” Skinner shouted and loaded several into the shotgun.
Skinner crawled up closer to the shattered hatch and felt a continuous stream of bullets batter the gate. He counted close to thirty hits before he popped up and fired three rapid shots in a line into the passenger compartment of the sedan. The smoke and flash of the phosphorus shells igniting blinded him and he rolled back to the protection of the tailgate which he was sure wouldn’t take a whole lot more of a beating. When the smoke cleared he looked back through the hatch and saw the sedan skidding wildly all over the twisting road. Suddenly the car took a sharp left and broke through the guard rail cart wheeling down the steep incline taking out several thick trees in the process. Skinner stowed everything back into its place and crawled back into the front. “Well that was fun” Skinner exhaled as he reclined into the deep leather seat. For the first time in twenty four hours he decided to sleep. There wouldn’t be anyone else to follow he was sure.
They drove for about forty five minutes to a cemetery well upstate of New York City. He almost felt grateful for this as it meant that he possibly wouldn’t be made for a cop like Edgar had picked up on at their first meeting. It seemed to be situated just outside of a small town with a scenic view of the mountains that stretched just east of them. Skinner tucked his .45 into the back of his slacks and felt the pull across his waist tighten. “Yeah, I’ve definitely got to lose some more weight” he thought as he climbed out of the Escalade.
The row of expensive cars made him worry. Boss Tanaka was already after him and he was sure that these people weren’t of the normally friendly variety. Shin Lao had gone to the rear of the vehicle and pulled the two Desert Eagle .50’s out of the bag and strapped them into the shoulder holsters that Edgar had supplied. She slung it all over her should like she was carrying a purse, and not the thirty pounds of steel and brass that they were. The walked up to where the assembled group was standing. Skinner didn’t recognize any of the faces standing by the graveside. But he supposed that he probably wouldn’t as everybody traveled in opposite social circles.
They strode between the rows of gravestones casually, but Skinner was incredibly nervous. If Shin Lao was she certainly didn’t show it. A coy smile on her face they approached the massed criminals. “Don’t worry; no one will do anything today. It’s bad luck” She whispered to Skinner, setting his mind slightly more at ease. In fact after a second scanning the crowd he found none of the normal signs of concealed weapons. He was sure they were there, but these were obviously professionals and not your everyday hoodlums. They walked by everybody in emotional states varying between smug and sad. It was always a sad day when someone of his stature in the “community” finally fell, but they all knew it was inevitable; it was inevitable for all of them. There was no black and white here, everybody lived their lives in shades of grey. It was often the only way to persuade what little conscience some of them had that what they did was necessary.
They made the obligatory rounds with the crowd. They made small talk, reminisced with a few of them and avoided eye contact with others. Skinner was surprised at how personable some of these people were. They may be hired killers, but he supposed that at the end of the day they had lives as well. After stalling as much as they could, Shin Lao approached the casket that was waiting to be interred into the earth. “Excuse me for a moment Leonard; I’d like to be alone for a minute with him.” He hadn’t noticed that she’d called him by his first name until she was standing at the casket. He supposed that it was for the best as people might recognize his last name, and certainly in this crowd she couldn’t call him “detective”.
He watched her as she gracefully knelt down by the grave despite the soft earth and the narrow heels that she was wearing. She placed the two pistols into the casket and softly said something in a language Skinner didn’t understand, presumably Chinese. She stood just as gracefully with all the demeanor of a cat and walked back to where she had left Skinner. “Go on up, I’m sure he won’t mind.” Skinner reluctantly walked towards the grave. He didn’t like funerals and had been to many for his fellow fallen officers. For some reason this one was a little tough to deal with. He didn’t know this man as well as he knew his fellow officers, but still he felt that a good man had died and he’d certainly miss him. He also knew that with this man dead his hope for finding his daughter also died.
He looked down into the casket and there he was, the boogie man of the criminal underworld. This was the man that everybody feared, he’d become an urban myth, something of a ghost story that mothers told their children about. “Keep your nose out of shit or the Viper will one day have to rub you out.” “Good bye old boy. You always told the truth, which is more than I can say for the rest of us.” He looked down at the assembled group of mementos that the others had placed in there. Aside from the large firearms that Shin Lao had placed in there, there were also pictures, a few marked bullets from several different crime families and many other small trinkets. He had nothing to lay in there so he stood and painfully wiped the beginnings of a tear from beneath his sunglasses and walked back to Shin Lao.
Her sunglasses hid her eyes well but he knew that she had been crying. He felt that he needed to do something and so somewhat stiffly he put his arms around her in the best approximation of a hug that he could muster. Surprisingly she pressed her face against his chest and cried. She cried hard, which was something that Skinner guessed she had never done. The site of a friend or loved one in the casket cemented the fact that they were gone. There was no room for hope at that point. They were dead and all you had was the void that they used to fill. Skinner put his own head on her shoulder and the hell with what the assembled criminals thought. She pulled her head up from him and wiped her eyes. “The ceremony is about to begin.”
Everybody faced the front as the reverend cleared his throat. Skinner didn’t hear most of the graveside ceremony. He was someplace else. That nagging thought from last night kept coming back to him. The web page, the sale of the gun, Ghost_Widow, HKBOluvah, Jackson won the lottery, the guns, Jackson, Ghost_Widow. “Holy Shit!” Skinner muttered to himself. He looked next to him and noted that Shin Lao was looking at him. “I’ll tell you in the car.” He didn’t pay much attention to the rest of the ceremony either, only pricking up when he heard the man of God exclaim to the group “In Nomine Patri, Es Filli, Es Spirtu Sancti”
Everybody filed out of the graveyard solemnly. Hit men didn’t like to be in a place of the dead just as much as anybody else. It probably reminded them that they’ve put more than their fair share of bodies into these places. They climbed quietly into the Cadillac and Shin Lao started up the engine before she turned to Skinner. “So what was that about?” “I know who really killed the Viper; He was also the person who sold the guns as well. And I think you know who bought them. All I can’t figure out is why.” “So are you going to fill me in or do I have to torture it out of you?” She said this with a small smile, the first he’d really seen since they’d arrived. “There’s a police officer who just rather noisily decided to quit because he’d just won the lottery. I believe in fact that he’s the one who sold the guns because they were bought that morning. If he had his guns he either killed Elias, or he was around when it happened.” “OK so that explains that small bit, but who bought them?” “You did.” Skinner said this plainly and without any sort of emotion on his face. “It didn’t really fit together until I remembered that Edgar said your alias this morning. Ghost_widow bought the guns for a hefty price, and the name seems to fit together with everything happening this morning.”
“Very astute detective. No wonder Elias always talked about you. You are indeed a good detective. And as for why, I wanted to have something to remember him by, and that auction was the perfect opportunity. That man paid for my freedom with his life detective, I owed him that much at the very least. I didn’t want those to fall into some scumbag’s hands. It just didn’t feel right.” Skinner felt like a bastard. He’d had grand visions of master plans and twisted words, making him the patsy in some grand scheme. That had not been the case and he’d overlooked the emotional attachment that could exist between people. He’d been lacking that for quite some time, and his time on the force seeing all sorts of trash and killings kept him emotionally distant. “I apologize. But I think we’ve got something to move on with Officer Jackson.” “We? Detective what are you saying?” “I’m saying that I’m in until the end. I want to figure this thing out now just as much as you do. There’s twisted cops pouring out of the woodwork these last few days and I’d like to find as many as I can before I sit back in that office.” “You do realize that you may have to kill a few people if this turns badly detective. The rules are different for you than they are for me.” “I know, but in a way, I feel like I owe him a little something anyway. I don’t know why, but call it a personal investment.” “All right detective. It’s your funeral.” Skinner looked straight at her face. “No, it’s not Shin, and that’s what I have a problem with.”
They backed out onto the interstate that went past the cemetery. Skinner still felt like a bastard and Shin Lao had gone quiet for the moment. He adjusted his glasses, feeling like a low rent wanna-be next to all of those expensive suits. Any three of those suits combined probably added up to close to his yearly salary. Looking up one last time at the graveyard he noticed one of the many black sedans barreling towards them. “Um, I don’t think he’s gonna stop.” Skinner said quickly grabbing the .45 from his waist. He was waiting for some word from Shin Lao but she seemed to be sizing the situation up. “Hold on” She said simply as she gunned the engine. Sand and gravel kicked up a cloud of shrapnel and dust as the truck seemed to spin around on its axis, pointing them in the southbound lane.
The SUV seemed to be catapulted forward as soon as one of the rear tires touched pavement and they were up to eighty miles per hour very shortly. Skinner looked into his rear view mirror and saw that the sedan was still on their tail. “We’re not gonna shake em in this thing.” Skinner hated pointing out the obvious but he didn’t know what else to say in this situation. He noticed someone leaning out the passenger side window. The man’s submachine gun thankfully sprayed into open air as they took a tight turn on the hilly road. “What are you waiting for Skinner, start shooting back.” The electric motors for his window purred as it slid down. He looked into the mirror again and noticed the man was taking aim. “Sharp right!” Shin Lao barked out and Skinner noticed the tight turn that was coming up. He stuck his head out the window as the Escalade skidded around the corner fishtailing into the guard rail in a shower of sparks and noise. Skinner fired off several shots which all slammed into the windshield of the pursuing sedan. Apparently none of them struck anyone and he started firing until his clip was empty. “Sharp left, careful I’m gonna floor it.” Skinner ducked his head back inside the vehicle as the sounds of the rubber skidding across asphalt echoed through the woods on each side of the elevated road. Deep into the skid he heard the engine whine as it tried to accelerate but simply made the tires smoke.
In a sudden jolt the tires caught traction and they rocketed off. Skinned slammed another clip into his pistol and checked his mirror. The gunner didn’t have a clear shot as the sedan was just coming out of a skid itself. Skinner aimed for the hood of the car and drummed the trigger six times sending a hail of lead into trailing car. Another hail of gunfire pummeled the tailgate of the Cadillac, shattering the back hatch. “I’ve got a shotgun stashed in that forward compartment if you think you can get back there.” She didn’t take her eyes off the road as the truck neared one hundred and ten. The engine screamed, it wasn’t meant to endure this kind of speed but still seemed to handle like a dream. Skinner sent another rain of bullets into the other car as he dove into the empty back section of the large SUV. Opening the forward of the stow-away compartments he found a variety of what appeared to be bombs and ammunition. “What are these?” Skinner asked through the whipping wind coming in from the open back. “Oh, those are bombs. Don’t muck around with those yet, they’re not finished. The shotgun should be to the right. He rifled a bit and found the shotgun in the next compartment over.
He started sliding shells into the Ithaca combat shotgun as the Cadillac lurched forward roughly. He looked back and saw that the sedan was trying to ram them. The driver reached his hand out the window and fired a series of shots at the back of their truck. Skinner had to duck behind the cover of the tailgate. When the shots died down for a second he popped up and fired off two shells into the windshield. It seemed to explode inside of the car and sent them swerving for several critical seconds. He now had a clear shot and fired another slug into the car, clipping the driver. The slug turned the man’s shoulder into ground meat and he swerved sharply to the right riding the guard rail in a shower of sparks. “Good shooting detective but I don’t think you’ve bought much time. We’ve got to get off this road.” Indeed as Skinner looked back at the rapidly shrinking car the driver was slipping into the passenger seat and the sound of barking tires filled the clear wilderness air just before they followed the road behind a series of trees.
The other hitters caught up quickly but fortunately the previous driver couldn’t fire his pistol too steadily. Thankfully the driver couldn’t have too many options for trying to dodge and Skinner squeezed the trigger another two times, the bark of the shotgun in the confined space nearly making him deaf. The driver swerved and instead of a killing shot, his slugs buried into the back seat. He ejected the spent shell from the shotgun and realized that it was the last one. He pulled out the ammo box that held the shells and noticed a smaller box inside of it. “What are these?” He shouted over the wailing howl of wind. “Those are phosphorus rounds. Not much for range but they do all the damage you could ever want. I use them since they’re the only thing that I’ve found that will burn through a vest.” “They’ll do for what I want.” Skinner shouted and loaded several into the shotgun.
Skinner crawled up closer to the shattered hatch and felt a continuous stream of bullets batter the gate. He counted close to thirty hits before he popped up and fired three rapid shots in a line into the passenger compartment of the sedan. The smoke and flash of the phosphorus shells igniting blinded him and he rolled back to the protection of the tailgate which he was sure wouldn’t take a whole lot more of a beating. When the smoke cleared he looked back through the hatch and saw the sedan skidding wildly all over the twisting road. Suddenly the car took a sharp left and broke through the guard rail cart wheeling down the steep incline taking out several thick trees in the process. Skinner stowed everything back into its place and crawled back into the front. “Well that was fun” Skinner exhaled as he reclined into the deep leather seat. For the first time in twenty four hours he decided to sleep. There wouldn’t be anyone else to follow he was sure.
12.15.2005
Chapter 11
Chapter 11: One Hell of a Ride.
There were of course questions, but nothing too tough as the wounds and the fact that no less than five officers saw him heaved from a moving car seemed to hold his story together nicely. He answered all of the lieutenants questions stone faced. He wasn’t asked to supply too many details which was good, because he didn’t have many. He sat in the uncomfortable chair in the lieutenant’s office, playing gingerly with the tape on his nose when there seemed to be quite a commotion coming from the detail room. “I’m frigging rich!! I quit!!” Skinner didn’t recognize the voice, but apparently someone had won the lottery or something. “What the hell?!” Lieutenant Minter stood up from his desk. The man reminded Skinner of the chiefs in all of the police movies. Gruff, a little bald, and never seeming to wear his suit jacket. Though with all of this he was much better than the lieutenant that was here a couple of years ago.
“Jackson won the lottery” One of the faceless beat cops spoke up. “Well isn’t that nice. Jackson get over here.” “Fuck off Minty. I’m rich, I’m outta here!!” “Damn straight you are. Clean out your locker and get outta my station. NOW!” Everybody seemed to shrink back into their chairs between the evil eye that Minter was giving the lucky beat cop. Stories went around a week or so before Lieutenant Minter started that he was so mean that he stared hard at his plant one day and it turned black and died right there. Of course this was total fabrication, but it still was an entertaining way to address the hard as nails, burning stare he got when he was thoroughly angry. He stomped back into his office and sat down once again at his desk with a huff. He looked up at Skinner, with his battered and bruised face, blood crusted, crumpled, and torn dress shirt almost as if he’d forgotten about him. His face softened a bit. “Go on home Skinner. Take a couple of days off. I’ll send an officer by with some more questions later. We’ve already gone through your apartment, so feel free to clean up.” After he’d been dismissed, the Lieutenant went back to his paperwork like the morning hadn’t even happened yet. “What, you’re still here? Get home and rest up. That’s an order.” This was the second time that he’d been given time off by a lieutenant, thankfully this time it wasn’t for anything he’d done wrong.
An officer had stopped by later that day with more questions. Though he just seemed to rehash all of the questions that the lieutenant had asked, and were answered in the exact same way as he laid on his couch with an icepack on his face. When the officer left he got up and grabbed a beer from his fridge and took a swig. It tasted horrible with his broken nose. There was absolutely no taste to it at all. Perhaps the Viper had been right about his choice of beer. He lay back down on the couch and napped for a bit. It had been a hell of a ride for the last couple of days.
The next two days passed much like that one had. The pain killers that the doctor had prescribed him had kept him out of it for most of the time. Thankfully the roaring ache that seemed to consume all of his face had died down. Between the pills and the beer he’d drunk he was pretty fuzzy most of the time. He decided to get off the couch though, there was something trying to claw itself to the front of his mind, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. He tried to claw his way through the fog, but found it was much easier to simply lay there with his eyes closed.
As he lay there, drugged and half drunk the thought he was clawing for minutes before sidled its way into his mind. The guns…of course! He jumped up from his well worn couch and swayed from the head rush. When he got his head about him he walked over to his computer and looked up the EBay listing that he had been given a few short days ago. That damn web page that had started all of this mess. The auction had ended by then and he found that they had been sold for just over three quarters of a million dollars. Skinner reeled at this information, though he couldn’t be sure it was from surprise or the drugs. He looked at the buyer information and found that someone named “Ghost_Widow” had bought them. “Damn, don’t any of these people use grown up names?” Skinner murmured out loud.
There was something trying to make a connection in his head, but he didn’t know quite what to do with the information. There was evidence here he was sure of it, but much like with his attempts to catch the Viper all that time ago, he just couldn’t bridge the gap between what he saw and where it needed to go. He tried to look up information on both the seller and the buyer, but all that could be revealed to him were that both lived here in New York City. The other thought that occurred to him was that he had a funeral to go to tomorrow. A funeral for a killer. He imagined the group of people who would show up to such an event. The rogue’s gallery of crooks, killers, and thugs standing around solemnly around the grave of a fallen legend. If that was what they did that was. He wasn’t sure how that would work or what happened with something such as that. He then thought about being a cop at such an event. The thought made his skin crawl, but again couldn’t be sure if it was something to do with the pain killers coursing through his blood.
He made the decision to sober up a bit. If any more of Tanaka’s men decided to knock on his door he’d be an easy target in his current state. He looked down and saw the .45 ACP that Shin Lao had given him in the bar. The thing hadn’t even been fired yet. He checked the clip and slid it back into place with a loud click. He checked the locks on his door to make sure that everything was still in place and returned to the couch after making a quick pouch of ramen noodles. He would definitely need something in his stomach. There were things he needed to be awake for in the next twenty four hours and events that must be attended.
The night wore on for detective Leonard Skinner. Aside from his nose hurting he’d become a little paranoid in the last few nights. Officer Warren had driven home the point that he wasn’t safe from anybody in this new string of events. He gripped the handle of the pistol until his knuckles were white every time a car passed or someone knocked on the door down the hall. By the time the sun rose the next morning his eyes were red and watery and he was physically exhausted. He rose stiffly in bed and looked around the room as sunlight flooded in from the window across from his bed. It was looking to be a gorgeous day out. He only wished he felt better than he did. The alcohol caught up with him after the last few days as well and he felt like his head was going to explode if he didn’t get up out of bed.
He swung his feet out of bed and met the cold hardwood floor. His whole body seemed to go into a convulsing shiver as he drew a robe around him and walked to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. The long minutes between turning the coffee maker on and when it would produce enough coffee to be useful left him standing in nervous silence. He knew that he could count on at least one visitor today. At least he hoped he could. He had made up his mind in the long hours of the night that he was going to attend the funeral for the fallen hitman.
Skinner nearly jumped out of his skin when in fact a knock came to his door. He’d barely finished his second cup of coffee and hoped he’d at least have enough time for a shower. He walked to the door, the .45 ACP firmly in his hand as he put his eye to the peep hole. Thankfully it was Shin Lao and he relaxed his gun arm and slid the bolts and locks out of the way. “Nice robe” She said with a wry little smile and walked into his apartment.
She looked absolutely stunning. The black dress went to just above her strong calves and was slit up to the knee. It clung to her hips and had a deep “V” cut in the top that left just a hint of cleavage. The image of lounge singer came to mind. All that she seemed to be missing was a piano and a smoke filled room. Skinner looked down at himself in his sweat pants and open, well worn robe. Suddenly he felt self conscious and sucked in the gut he’d been trying to get rid of for years. “I’ve just got to jump in the shower. I’ll only be a minute. It was something of a rough night so it’s been hard for me to get motivated.” “OK, everything starts in two hours and we’ve got to swing by Edgar’s before we go to the... to the “event”” She seemed to be having a hard time coming to grips with things as far as the Viper’s death went. He thought back to the picture in her safe house of her and the Viper and decided that they must have really had something. In her line of business you couldn’t afford being mopey about losing a “co-worker”.
It only took Skinner a couple of minutes to shower and shave. If there was one person in this world he didn’t want to keep waiting, it was certainly a professional killer. While he was shaving he thought on how he got so deeply involved with the pair of killers. He hadn’t met Shin Lao but once or twice in the past before this, but he had talked of her a lot, and so knew that she could be trusted. All of this led back to his daughter and the combined thought of the Viper and his daughter almost caused his eyes to mist up a bit. The man was going to find his daughter if he let him operate, and now it seems that even that hope was dead along with the hit man.
He quickly dressed in his best suit, which still made him look like a cop unfortunately. The cut wasn’t stylish like the Viper’s had been, in fact if he remembered correctly he bought this suit at a bargain basement sale. He looked at himself in his bedroom mirror and sighed. The dark suit fit him like any other suit, loose in the shoulders and tight around the waist. He made a note to himself that he was gonna have to pick himself up a nice suit one of these days. He noted the bruising in his face, particularly around his nose and picked up his cheap Ray Ban shades off of the dresser and fitted them the best he could over the tape
“Very nice detective.” Shin Lao said simply as he walked from the bedroom, grabbing his overcoat off of the hook on the way towards the door. “After you” He said as they turned to leave. They walked down the several flights of stairs to the ground floor and he looked at the contrast between them and the graffiti scrawled walls. Once outside he looked for the Aston Martin and didn’t see it anywhere. “You have the AM today?” “No, I didn’t think it would do to show up around so many people in the dead man’s car. Might give the wrong idea about why everybody’s assembled.” It made sense to Skinner, and so he wasn’t surprised when he looked at the dingy cars lined along the street and noticed the pristine Cadillac Escalade parked amongst them. “That one yours?” “Yep, one of several actually. These things make great vehicles if you need to bring a small arsenal with you. That “Stow and Go” seating makes for a great place to hide weapons if need be.” Skinner thought about how many of the stylish vehicles he ran across in his daily travels and wondered how many people were using them for the same reasons. This didn’t help his paranoia now as he envisioned every SUV that rolled by to be a potential hit man.
Pulling out into traffic he looked at the neighborhood through the tinted windows. The artificial darkness seemed to bring to attention the dinginess and drab of his own neighborhood. Looking at it like this he decided that the darkness suited it. It wasn’t that it was a bad neighborhood, but it looked like every other low rent area in the city and came fully equipped with its own share of druggies, prostitutes and gangs. His reverie was cut short when he noticed that they had parked and looked up at Edgar’s apartment building. You could scarcely tell the difference between his neighborhood and Edgar’s. The whole city seemed to be like this for him now. One row of shoddy brownstones was very much the same as the other until the whole city took on the appearance of the run down, grimy neighborhoods. Even the pristine downtown business area seemed to be aged and grimy to him now. Perhaps he’d become a little too jaded over the years and he just hadn’t had time to think on it until now.
They jogged up the stairs to Edgar’s door and knocked. The grumble from inside told him that he wasn’t the only one that Shin Lao had roused pre-maturely this morning. He opened the door muttering all the way. “Good morning Edgar.” She seemed to be cheery on purpose and the old man grumbled louder as he unchained the door. “You’re lucky; I just finished them about two hours ago.” The old man let that sit for a moment in an attempt to make someone feel guilty. Obviously it didn’t have the desired effect and he stood aside to let them both enter. “What the hell happened to you detective? Looked like you met the wrong end of a baseball bat.” He chuckled a bit and then resumed his gruff look and turned to his back room. “Your pistols, rifle and all the ammo you could want. All with gas vent and matching holsters. I got a hard case for the rifle; I seemed to remember that you favored those. “Indeed I do. Thank you very much Edgar. You’re a consummate businessman.” “I always aim to please Ghost.” He sat down at his desk and counted the large roll of bills that Shin had placed on his desk. He knew he didn’t have to count it but liked to keep up appearances.
“We’ve got to take off now Edgar, the service is in just over an hour. I’d like to see who’s going to show up before I step foot among those people.” “Very wise of you. I wish I could come personally to give my regards, but I don’t think it would be wise.” “I understand Edgar. I’m sure that he would as well.” She slung the bag with the pistols and ammunition over her shoulder. Skinner, feeling useless picked up the case with the rifle and they both left the apartment. The case he was carrying seemed to weigh much more than he thought it would. By the time they got back to the Ghost’s Escalade his shoulder was a little sore, adding to his discomfort. Shin Lao popped the rear on the mammoth SUV and slid the duffle bag in. She got the case from Skinner and slung it inside like it didn’t weigh a pound. Skinner felt a little silly and walked towards the passenger side of the truck.
There were of course questions, but nothing too tough as the wounds and the fact that no less than five officers saw him heaved from a moving car seemed to hold his story together nicely. He answered all of the lieutenants questions stone faced. He wasn’t asked to supply too many details which was good, because he didn’t have many. He sat in the uncomfortable chair in the lieutenant’s office, playing gingerly with the tape on his nose when there seemed to be quite a commotion coming from the detail room. “I’m frigging rich!! I quit!!” Skinner didn’t recognize the voice, but apparently someone had won the lottery or something. “What the hell?!” Lieutenant Minter stood up from his desk. The man reminded Skinner of the chiefs in all of the police movies. Gruff, a little bald, and never seeming to wear his suit jacket. Though with all of this he was much better than the lieutenant that was here a couple of years ago.
“Jackson won the lottery” One of the faceless beat cops spoke up. “Well isn’t that nice. Jackson get over here.” “Fuck off Minty. I’m rich, I’m outta here!!” “Damn straight you are. Clean out your locker and get outta my station. NOW!” Everybody seemed to shrink back into their chairs between the evil eye that Minter was giving the lucky beat cop. Stories went around a week or so before Lieutenant Minter started that he was so mean that he stared hard at his plant one day and it turned black and died right there. Of course this was total fabrication, but it still was an entertaining way to address the hard as nails, burning stare he got when he was thoroughly angry. He stomped back into his office and sat down once again at his desk with a huff. He looked up at Skinner, with his battered and bruised face, blood crusted, crumpled, and torn dress shirt almost as if he’d forgotten about him. His face softened a bit. “Go on home Skinner. Take a couple of days off. I’ll send an officer by with some more questions later. We’ve already gone through your apartment, so feel free to clean up.” After he’d been dismissed, the Lieutenant went back to his paperwork like the morning hadn’t even happened yet. “What, you’re still here? Get home and rest up. That’s an order.” This was the second time that he’d been given time off by a lieutenant, thankfully this time it wasn’t for anything he’d done wrong.
An officer had stopped by later that day with more questions. Though he just seemed to rehash all of the questions that the lieutenant had asked, and were answered in the exact same way as he laid on his couch with an icepack on his face. When the officer left he got up and grabbed a beer from his fridge and took a swig. It tasted horrible with his broken nose. There was absolutely no taste to it at all. Perhaps the Viper had been right about his choice of beer. He lay back down on the couch and napped for a bit. It had been a hell of a ride for the last couple of days.
The next two days passed much like that one had. The pain killers that the doctor had prescribed him had kept him out of it for most of the time. Thankfully the roaring ache that seemed to consume all of his face had died down. Between the pills and the beer he’d drunk he was pretty fuzzy most of the time. He decided to get off the couch though, there was something trying to claw itself to the front of his mind, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. He tried to claw his way through the fog, but found it was much easier to simply lay there with his eyes closed.
As he lay there, drugged and half drunk the thought he was clawing for minutes before sidled its way into his mind. The guns…of course! He jumped up from his well worn couch and swayed from the head rush. When he got his head about him he walked over to his computer and looked up the EBay listing that he had been given a few short days ago. That damn web page that had started all of this mess. The auction had ended by then and he found that they had been sold for just over three quarters of a million dollars. Skinner reeled at this information, though he couldn’t be sure it was from surprise or the drugs. He looked at the buyer information and found that someone named “Ghost_Widow” had bought them. “Damn, don’t any of these people use grown up names?” Skinner murmured out loud.
There was something trying to make a connection in his head, but he didn’t know quite what to do with the information. There was evidence here he was sure of it, but much like with his attempts to catch the Viper all that time ago, he just couldn’t bridge the gap between what he saw and where it needed to go. He tried to look up information on both the seller and the buyer, but all that could be revealed to him were that both lived here in New York City. The other thought that occurred to him was that he had a funeral to go to tomorrow. A funeral for a killer. He imagined the group of people who would show up to such an event. The rogue’s gallery of crooks, killers, and thugs standing around solemnly around the grave of a fallen legend. If that was what they did that was. He wasn’t sure how that would work or what happened with something such as that. He then thought about being a cop at such an event. The thought made his skin crawl, but again couldn’t be sure if it was something to do with the pain killers coursing through his blood.
He made the decision to sober up a bit. If any more of Tanaka’s men decided to knock on his door he’d be an easy target in his current state. He looked down and saw the .45 ACP that Shin Lao had given him in the bar. The thing hadn’t even been fired yet. He checked the clip and slid it back into place with a loud click. He checked the locks on his door to make sure that everything was still in place and returned to the couch after making a quick pouch of ramen noodles. He would definitely need something in his stomach. There were things he needed to be awake for in the next twenty four hours and events that must be attended.
The night wore on for detective Leonard Skinner. Aside from his nose hurting he’d become a little paranoid in the last few nights. Officer Warren had driven home the point that he wasn’t safe from anybody in this new string of events. He gripped the handle of the pistol until his knuckles were white every time a car passed or someone knocked on the door down the hall. By the time the sun rose the next morning his eyes were red and watery and he was physically exhausted. He rose stiffly in bed and looked around the room as sunlight flooded in from the window across from his bed. It was looking to be a gorgeous day out. He only wished he felt better than he did. The alcohol caught up with him after the last few days as well and he felt like his head was going to explode if he didn’t get up out of bed.
He swung his feet out of bed and met the cold hardwood floor. His whole body seemed to go into a convulsing shiver as he drew a robe around him and walked to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. The long minutes between turning the coffee maker on and when it would produce enough coffee to be useful left him standing in nervous silence. He knew that he could count on at least one visitor today. At least he hoped he could. He had made up his mind in the long hours of the night that he was going to attend the funeral for the fallen hitman.
Skinner nearly jumped out of his skin when in fact a knock came to his door. He’d barely finished his second cup of coffee and hoped he’d at least have enough time for a shower. He walked to the door, the .45 ACP firmly in his hand as he put his eye to the peep hole. Thankfully it was Shin Lao and he relaxed his gun arm and slid the bolts and locks out of the way. “Nice robe” She said with a wry little smile and walked into his apartment.
She looked absolutely stunning. The black dress went to just above her strong calves and was slit up to the knee. It clung to her hips and had a deep “V” cut in the top that left just a hint of cleavage. The image of lounge singer came to mind. All that she seemed to be missing was a piano and a smoke filled room. Skinner looked down at himself in his sweat pants and open, well worn robe. Suddenly he felt self conscious and sucked in the gut he’d been trying to get rid of for years. “I’ve just got to jump in the shower. I’ll only be a minute. It was something of a rough night so it’s been hard for me to get motivated.” “OK, everything starts in two hours and we’ve got to swing by Edgar’s before we go to the... to the “event”” She seemed to be having a hard time coming to grips with things as far as the Viper’s death went. He thought back to the picture in her safe house of her and the Viper and decided that they must have really had something. In her line of business you couldn’t afford being mopey about losing a “co-worker”.
It only took Skinner a couple of minutes to shower and shave. If there was one person in this world he didn’t want to keep waiting, it was certainly a professional killer. While he was shaving he thought on how he got so deeply involved with the pair of killers. He hadn’t met Shin Lao but once or twice in the past before this, but he had talked of her a lot, and so knew that she could be trusted. All of this led back to his daughter and the combined thought of the Viper and his daughter almost caused his eyes to mist up a bit. The man was going to find his daughter if he let him operate, and now it seems that even that hope was dead along with the hit man.
He quickly dressed in his best suit, which still made him look like a cop unfortunately. The cut wasn’t stylish like the Viper’s had been, in fact if he remembered correctly he bought this suit at a bargain basement sale. He looked at himself in his bedroom mirror and sighed. The dark suit fit him like any other suit, loose in the shoulders and tight around the waist. He made a note to himself that he was gonna have to pick himself up a nice suit one of these days. He noted the bruising in his face, particularly around his nose and picked up his cheap Ray Ban shades off of the dresser and fitted them the best he could over the tape
“Very nice detective.” Shin Lao said simply as he walked from the bedroom, grabbing his overcoat off of the hook on the way towards the door. “After you” He said as they turned to leave. They walked down the several flights of stairs to the ground floor and he looked at the contrast between them and the graffiti scrawled walls. Once outside he looked for the Aston Martin and didn’t see it anywhere. “You have the AM today?” “No, I didn’t think it would do to show up around so many people in the dead man’s car. Might give the wrong idea about why everybody’s assembled.” It made sense to Skinner, and so he wasn’t surprised when he looked at the dingy cars lined along the street and noticed the pristine Cadillac Escalade parked amongst them. “That one yours?” “Yep, one of several actually. These things make great vehicles if you need to bring a small arsenal with you. That “Stow and Go” seating makes for a great place to hide weapons if need be.” Skinner thought about how many of the stylish vehicles he ran across in his daily travels and wondered how many people were using them for the same reasons. This didn’t help his paranoia now as he envisioned every SUV that rolled by to be a potential hit man.
Pulling out into traffic he looked at the neighborhood through the tinted windows. The artificial darkness seemed to bring to attention the dinginess and drab of his own neighborhood. Looking at it like this he decided that the darkness suited it. It wasn’t that it was a bad neighborhood, but it looked like every other low rent area in the city and came fully equipped with its own share of druggies, prostitutes and gangs. His reverie was cut short when he noticed that they had parked and looked up at Edgar’s apartment building. You could scarcely tell the difference between his neighborhood and Edgar’s. The whole city seemed to be like this for him now. One row of shoddy brownstones was very much the same as the other until the whole city took on the appearance of the run down, grimy neighborhoods. Even the pristine downtown business area seemed to be aged and grimy to him now. Perhaps he’d become a little too jaded over the years and he just hadn’t had time to think on it until now.
They jogged up the stairs to Edgar’s door and knocked. The grumble from inside told him that he wasn’t the only one that Shin Lao had roused pre-maturely this morning. He opened the door muttering all the way. “Good morning Edgar.” She seemed to be cheery on purpose and the old man grumbled louder as he unchained the door. “You’re lucky; I just finished them about two hours ago.” The old man let that sit for a moment in an attempt to make someone feel guilty. Obviously it didn’t have the desired effect and he stood aside to let them both enter. “What the hell happened to you detective? Looked like you met the wrong end of a baseball bat.” He chuckled a bit and then resumed his gruff look and turned to his back room. “Your pistols, rifle and all the ammo you could want. All with gas vent and matching holsters. I got a hard case for the rifle; I seemed to remember that you favored those. “Indeed I do. Thank you very much Edgar. You’re a consummate businessman.” “I always aim to please Ghost.” He sat down at his desk and counted the large roll of bills that Shin had placed on his desk. He knew he didn’t have to count it but liked to keep up appearances.
“We’ve got to take off now Edgar, the service is in just over an hour. I’d like to see who’s going to show up before I step foot among those people.” “Very wise of you. I wish I could come personally to give my regards, but I don’t think it would be wise.” “I understand Edgar. I’m sure that he would as well.” She slung the bag with the pistols and ammunition over her shoulder. Skinner, feeling useless picked up the case with the rifle and they both left the apartment. The case he was carrying seemed to weigh much more than he thought it would. By the time they got back to the Ghost’s Escalade his shoulder was a little sore, adding to his discomfort. Shin Lao popped the rear on the mammoth SUV and slid the duffle bag in. She got the case from Skinner and slung it inside like it didn’t weigh a pound. Skinner felt a little silly and walked towards the passenger side of the truck.
12.14.2005
We interrupt this story with...
An actual post. I tend to think a lot, since I have an abundance of time to do so. I've realised that I thrive on fear. A great majority of my life is spent overcoming my fears and inabilities. yes, we all have them, but a lot of us spend a lot of our time hiding them or running from them. This is counter-productive. There's a lot of things in this world that I'm afraid of and I have no problem admitting that. A lot of them are personal in nature and so I spend a lot of my time working on them. Posting this novel I wrote for instance is one of those things. I have a deep rooted fear of rejection and the general "my own worst critic" syndrome. I'm also not that good at writing "intimate" things. And so I face many of my fears through not only my writing, but going out on a limb so to speak by acting at all. I had a fear of speaking in public for a vast majority of my life, and so I took drama in high school. I constantly seek approval and acceptance from those around me. Yes, I'm insecure and my self esteem is probably shot for life, but you know I'm not afraid to admit that and take steps to work past these things. I don't think my writing is up to par and even if it is, I'll probably never believe it, but I refuse to live in fear of rejection because of it. This is a big item in my life, fear of rejection, fear of failing, fear of just not being good enough. But that doesn't mean that it has to rule my life. I always faced that situation when I'd see some people from high school that I had a crush on or such and years later have the gonads to say as such, and almost without fail I hear "well why didn't you say something, I'd have gone on a date with you." Well damn! It is these moments where I decided that I wasn't going to live in fear of my own shadow and speak my mind whether for good or ill. You can't necessary change the past, but you are in almost complete control of your future. So take the reigns and live a little. That is all
Mahalo
Mahalo
Chapter 10
Chapter 10: The Truth Shall Set You Free
“Obviously as you now know the Viper didn’t kill Tommy Mac that day. In fact he became quite useful to us over the years. He gave us information on the comings and goings of a lot of major players.” “But why didn’t he just kill him? It would have been much easier in the long run.” Skinner had become completely involved in the drama that seemed to be unfolding. All of this seemed to go against the larger picture that he had drawn of the Viper years ago.
“To tell you the truth, I’m not entirely sure myself. Perhaps he saw the greater use, or maybe just needed someone as back up in case the shit hit the fan. Either way I think it’s all related to that one job.” They had pulled to a stop in front of the Pit and locked the car up tight. Everybody in this neighborhood knew this car well by now, but that wouldn’t stop the rats that wandered the streets looking for somewhere to score a bit of cash for their next fix.
“What’s up Bobby?” Shin Lao piped from the door as she leisurely strolled into the shit hole that was the Pit. “Aye, evenin’ lass. Ye here ona business or pleasure?” “I’m here to see Mac, is he in?” “Aye sure, he’s in the back where he usually is.” Skinner leaned in close to her. “Is that the same bartender?” “Yep, he’s lost a little weight and cleaned himself up. Guess coming face to face with your impending death will change your perspective a bit.” She grinned again and walked to the rear of the bar, people perceptibly moving aside for her. Apparently they all knew the stories and who’s way to get out of.
Tommy MacGregor was indeed sitting at a grungy desk in the little room at the back of The Pit. He looked up as they entered and something of a smile crossed his face. “What brings ye down to my little gin mill?” Tommy was just as she had described him. Perhaps a little more haggard than when they’d first met, but the old Irish gangster still fancied himself a Sam Spade. “Just looking for information Tommy. Any of the Boss’ boys been in lately?” “Naw, justa couple a Shamuses who thought they could get someone to roll over on your boy though. They made outta here pretty quick though.” “Well, I thought you might have a quick talk with my friend here. He wanted to know what happened between you and the Viper.
“Be glad to doll. That was one hatchetman with class. He knew how to shoot some lead and he was always straight with me. As ye know he filled our place fulla holes, then had the balls to want te chat me up for a bit.”
“All right, we can barber for a bit.” Tommy seemed to be taking all of this in stride, which worried the two assassins even more. “Well, you see Mac, my current employer wants you bumped off. Apparently you’ve become a real thorn in his side. However I have a different opinion of you and your boys. You’ve kept this neighborhood from sliding further down the tubes. You guys may be thugs, but you keep the real criminals out of the row. So here’s my deal. I spare your life and I take your finger. You make someone else in charge of this gang and stay out of sight, and you live and keep me informed of the comings and goings. If you don’t find this agreeable, then I simply kill you here and the above scenario occurs, only without your continued survival. There will undoubtedly be a war for whoever will be in control and the only people who pay are the civilians. So it’s your choice Tommy.”
“I’ll be damned if the Bruno didn’t keep his word though.” Tommy held up his left hand to show where his index finger was missing. “He took a damn useful one though. I’ve been holed up around here ever since. He’d come to me now and then get some information and be off again.” “So what went wrong?” Skinner asked, feeling that everything would fit together much nicer once this part of the story was told. “Well, the Boss found out not long ago. I was already free and Elias was not in Tanaka’s employ at the moment. In fact no one had seen much of him before or after that.” Shin Lao was thoughtful thinking about the fury of Boss Tanaka when he found out that, much like a bad penny, Tommy MacGregor kept popping up, although with a new name and a much different face. But not different enough apparently.
“Did Elias come to you for information in the last week or so Tommy?” “Yeah we barbered for a bit about some doll he was supposed to rub. I didn’t have anything for him though and he ran out after that.” “Thanks Tommy. Tanaka might send around some replacements now that he knows you’re still among the living. I’d watch your back.” “Don’t worry ‘bout me doll face. I’ve got it all covered.”
They left Tommy’s room and glanced around the bar. Everything seemed eerily quiet. Skinner looked at the solemn faces of the normally tough goons around the bar. He made eye contact with the two men that had walked through the door. Dressed much like he had seen the Viper on so many occasions in the dark expensive overcoats and black suits. Though it may have been something of an illusion, but they didn’t seem to wear them with the style that the Viper had. No doubt members of his “fan club” like Edgar had been talking about.
He looked at Shin Lao for some sort of cue. He didn’t know these people from Adam and didn’t know whether they were friendly or not. “They’re not friends of mine.” She said, almost as if she’d read his thoughts. Perhaps it was the déjà vu feeling, but Shin Lao made eye contact with the biggest of the two killers. He was a huge Hispanic looking man, incredibly huge and intimidating. The Ithaca pump action shotgun he held in his hand like it was a squirt gun added to the effect. She knew this one. His name was Quint and he was more than likely Elias’ replacement. “Why are you here Quint?” The man stared down the edge of his glasses at her in seeming disbelief. “Why are we here eh? Like you wouldn’t know. We’re here to finish the job the Viper didn’t. And while we’re here, there’s a small price on yours, and your doughnut eating friend’s head as well. Could collect on all three a you.”
Undaunted by this Shin simply pulled her gun from her jacket and cocked it. “Listen Quint, if you just drop your guns now I’ll leave you the use of your legs.” The man laughed loudly and abruptly stopped to stare at her. “You’re good, but you’re not that good.” “Shin Lao reached a hand behind her. Skinner looked down and saw the Colt .45 and took it. They numbers on their side if these thugs lived up to their reputation. “We’re gonna take Tommy’s head, and then we’re gonna take yours. So how about this. If you drop YOUR gun now, I’ll make it quick.” Shin cocked her head to the side, as if she were in deep thought. After a few seconds she seemed to come to whatever conclusion it was and snapped off two shots, both of them hit the two men in their gun arms and they dropped their weapons, each one grabbing their arms like some eerie form of synchronized sport. Skinner brought up his gun, returning to his police training and swept the room, making sure that there was no one else. “Now Quint Quint Quint. You’re not smart enough for this line of work. Take your friend here. He looks like he wants to get out of things.” The man looked scared is how he looked. Never breaking eye contact with Quint she raised her pistol level with the other man’s head. She squeezed off two more rounds without warning. The man didn’t have enough of a chance to even scream as the bullets roared into his skull, pushing him over backwards gurgling with his own blood in his throat. “Never bring amateurs when you’re tracking a professional Quint. Would have thought that you’d know this by now. Now you’re going to give me the information that I want or you’re not leaving here and I’ll let Tommy’s boys do what they want with you.” Shin let this bit of new information sink into the huge man’s brain before she backed up and leaned against the table.
“Oh yeah.” She said like she had just remembered something from her grocery list that she’d forgotten. She raised her pistol again and fired another four rounds into the huge man’s legs. Two went into his knee caps and the others went into his thighs. The huge man crumpled and screamed on the floor. “What the Hell!! You haven’t even asked me anything yet.” “Well you already fucked that up Quint. You should have just dropped your gun earlier and your friend and your legs both would be in much better shape. Now if you’ll remember the new deal is if you cooperate I’ll let you leave of your own volition. If you don’t…well let’s just say you’ll probably never see all of your body parts in the same room again.” Quint seemed to take her seriously this time. “Who killed the Viper?” Shin Lao asked. Quint seemed to vapor lock. He didn’t say anything but just floundered, his mouth open and shut. “You can’t be serious” Quint forced out. Shin kneeled down at his side, her pistol pointing upward, tapping lightly at the side of her head. “Note serious face.” She said grimly. There was no humor or emotion in her voice and it was seriously chilling to everybody who heard it. She lowered the pistol so that the barrel was pushed up against the man’s nose. “Boss Tanaka ordered the job. Every wanna-be and has been jumped at the opportunity. There’s no telling who pulled the trigger.” Shin Lao cocked the .45 for effect and pointed it again at the man’s nose. “That’s a lie Quint and both of us know it. Though I don’t doubt that everybody with a trench coat and a weapon jumped at the shot, but I think you know who pulled the trigger.” “I don’t know anything else, I swear!” The man seemed hysterical at this point. He was either a very bad liar or he was telling the truth. There was no way for sure for Skinner to tell, he was just along for the ride at this point.
“OK Bobby, you guys do what you want with this piece of shit. I’m done with him. Hope it’s quick Quint is all that I have to say, but it probably won’t be.” She strode over the man, toward the door. Skinner walked around him and looked at Bobby who simply nodded at him and smiled. “Doncha worry lass. Ye won’t be seein this one around again.” “I know I won’t Bobby. You guys are good people….for criminals anyway.” She reached for the handle of the door when the big man shouted from behind them. The boys from around the pool table were already making their way down to him like ants surrounding a bit of food. “I did it. I pulled the trigger!!” Shin Lao pulled her hand back from the door like it was on fire. Her face twisted into something that Skinner couldn’t tell the difference between. It was either anger or sadness. “Do what you boys want with this piece of shit. He’s not worth my time anymore.” And she walked out of the bar leaving behind the screams and pleas of the professional killer lying on the floor.
Shin Lao got into the Aston Martin and shoved the key into the ignition. Skinner got in a couple of seconds later, not quite sure what to do with this new information or even what you would say to a grieving hired killer. “I’d better get you back to the station so you can fix up your life a little bit. Just tell them that one of Tanaka’s guys kidnapped you for information. Officer Warren was there to see you and happened by at the wrong moment.” “You think that’ll fly? I don’t. For one I don’t look like I’ve been interrogated by any of them.” He didn’t have time to blink before the barrel of Shin Lao’s .45 crossed his face. He felt cartilage crunch and blood well up in his nose from the blow. “That’s taken care of, any other questions detective?” Tears welled up in Skinner’s eyes. He was certain that his nose was broken. “Now you realize that I’m gonna have to throw you from a moving vehicle correct?” “What?! Skinner said as best he could through the pain and his swelling nose. “To make it look legit. Oh, and Elias’ funeral is in three days. Show up if you’d like.”
They sped off through the row in silence. Skinner was unsure what to do now and Shin Lao simply seemed to be made out of stone. There was no sign of emotion on her face as they neared the police station, and not a sound out of her as she pushed a button on her side of the car and the passenger side door opened quite unexpectedly. She gave Skinner a rough shove while he was still surprised and he hit the pavement and rolled across the pavement. The several cops standing outside either just going on shift or just about ready to go home rushed over to him, stopping traffic before anything serious happened. He was helped to his feet by the younger officers and walked inside. His entire face was now swollen up and severely bruised. His whole body ached thanks to the thirty miles per hour skid down the rough asphalt.
“Obviously as you now know the Viper didn’t kill Tommy Mac that day. In fact he became quite useful to us over the years. He gave us information on the comings and goings of a lot of major players.” “But why didn’t he just kill him? It would have been much easier in the long run.” Skinner had become completely involved in the drama that seemed to be unfolding. All of this seemed to go against the larger picture that he had drawn of the Viper years ago.
“To tell you the truth, I’m not entirely sure myself. Perhaps he saw the greater use, or maybe just needed someone as back up in case the shit hit the fan. Either way I think it’s all related to that one job.” They had pulled to a stop in front of the Pit and locked the car up tight. Everybody in this neighborhood knew this car well by now, but that wouldn’t stop the rats that wandered the streets looking for somewhere to score a bit of cash for their next fix.
“What’s up Bobby?” Shin Lao piped from the door as she leisurely strolled into the shit hole that was the Pit. “Aye, evenin’ lass. Ye here ona business or pleasure?” “I’m here to see Mac, is he in?” “Aye sure, he’s in the back where he usually is.” Skinner leaned in close to her. “Is that the same bartender?” “Yep, he’s lost a little weight and cleaned himself up. Guess coming face to face with your impending death will change your perspective a bit.” She grinned again and walked to the rear of the bar, people perceptibly moving aside for her. Apparently they all knew the stories and who’s way to get out of.
Tommy MacGregor was indeed sitting at a grungy desk in the little room at the back of The Pit. He looked up as they entered and something of a smile crossed his face. “What brings ye down to my little gin mill?” Tommy was just as she had described him. Perhaps a little more haggard than when they’d first met, but the old Irish gangster still fancied himself a Sam Spade. “Just looking for information Tommy. Any of the Boss’ boys been in lately?” “Naw, justa couple a Shamuses who thought they could get someone to roll over on your boy though. They made outta here pretty quick though.” “Well, I thought you might have a quick talk with my friend here. He wanted to know what happened between you and the Viper.
“Be glad to doll. That was one hatchetman with class. He knew how to shoot some lead and he was always straight with me. As ye know he filled our place fulla holes, then had the balls to want te chat me up for a bit.”
“All right, we can barber for a bit.” Tommy seemed to be taking all of this in stride, which worried the two assassins even more. “Well, you see Mac, my current employer wants you bumped off. Apparently you’ve become a real thorn in his side. However I have a different opinion of you and your boys. You’ve kept this neighborhood from sliding further down the tubes. You guys may be thugs, but you keep the real criminals out of the row. So here’s my deal. I spare your life and I take your finger. You make someone else in charge of this gang and stay out of sight, and you live and keep me informed of the comings and goings. If you don’t find this agreeable, then I simply kill you here and the above scenario occurs, only without your continued survival. There will undoubtedly be a war for whoever will be in control and the only people who pay are the civilians. So it’s your choice Tommy.”
“I’ll be damned if the Bruno didn’t keep his word though.” Tommy held up his left hand to show where his index finger was missing. “He took a damn useful one though. I’ve been holed up around here ever since. He’d come to me now and then get some information and be off again.” “So what went wrong?” Skinner asked, feeling that everything would fit together much nicer once this part of the story was told. “Well, the Boss found out not long ago. I was already free and Elias was not in Tanaka’s employ at the moment. In fact no one had seen much of him before or after that.” Shin Lao was thoughtful thinking about the fury of Boss Tanaka when he found out that, much like a bad penny, Tommy MacGregor kept popping up, although with a new name and a much different face. But not different enough apparently.
“Did Elias come to you for information in the last week or so Tommy?” “Yeah we barbered for a bit about some doll he was supposed to rub. I didn’t have anything for him though and he ran out after that.” “Thanks Tommy. Tanaka might send around some replacements now that he knows you’re still among the living. I’d watch your back.” “Don’t worry ‘bout me doll face. I’ve got it all covered.”
They left Tommy’s room and glanced around the bar. Everything seemed eerily quiet. Skinner looked at the solemn faces of the normally tough goons around the bar. He made eye contact with the two men that had walked through the door. Dressed much like he had seen the Viper on so many occasions in the dark expensive overcoats and black suits. Though it may have been something of an illusion, but they didn’t seem to wear them with the style that the Viper had. No doubt members of his “fan club” like Edgar had been talking about.
He looked at Shin Lao for some sort of cue. He didn’t know these people from Adam and didn’t know whether they were friendly or not. “They’re not friends of mine.” She said, almost as if she’d read his thoughts. Perhaps it was the déjà vu feeling, but Shin Lao made eye contact with the biggest of the two killers. He was a huge Hispanic looking man, incredibly huge and intimidating. The Ithaca pump action shotgun he held in his hand like it was a squirt gun added to the effect. She knew this one. His name was Quint and he was more than likely Elias’ replacement. “Why are you here Quint?” The man stared down the edge of his glasses at her in seeming disbelief. “Why are we here eh? Like you wouldn’t know. We’re here to finish the job the Viper didn’t. And while we’re here, there’s a small price on yours, and your doughnut eating friend’s head as well. Could collect on all three a you.”
Undaunted by this Shin simply pulled her gun from her jacket and cocked it. “Listen Quint, if you just drop your guns now I’ll leave you the use of your legs.” The man laughed loudly and abruptly stopped to stare at her. “You’re good, but you’re not that good.” “Shin Lao reached a hand behind her. Skinner looked down and saw the Colt .45 and took it. They numbers on their side if these thugs lived up to their reputation. “We’re gonna take Tommy’s head, and then we’re gonna take yours. So how about this. If you drop YOUR gun now, I’ll make it quick.” Shin cocked her head to the side, as if she were in deep thought. After a few seconds she seemed to come to whatever conclusion it was and snapped off two shots, both of them hit the two men in their gun arms and they dropped their weapons, each one grabbing their arms like some eerie form of synchronized sport. Skinner brought up his gun, returning to his police training and swept the room, making sure that there was no one else. “Now Quint Quint Quint. You’re not smart enough for this line of work. Take your friend here. He looks like he wants to get out of things.” The man looked scared is how he looked. Never breaking eye contact with Quint she raised her pistol level with the other man’s head. She squeezed off two more rounds without warning. The man didn’t have enough of a chance to even scream as the bullets roared into his skull, pushing him over backwards gurgling with his own blood in his throat. “Never bring amateurs when you’re tracking a professional Quint. Would have thought that you’d know this by now. Now you’re going to give me the information that I want or you’re not leaving here and I’ll let Tommy’s boys do what they want with you.” Shin let this bit of new information sink into the huge man’s brain before she backed up and leaned against the table.
“Oh yeah.” She said like she had just remembered something from her grocery list that she’d forgotten. She raised her pistol again and fired another four rounds into the huge man’s legs. Two went into his knee caps and the others went into his thighs. The huge man crumpled and screamed on the floor. “What the Hell!! You haven’t even asked me anything yet.” “Well you already fucked that up Quint. You should have just dropped your gun earlier and your friend and your legs both would be in much better shape. Now if you’ll remember the new deal is if you cooperate I’ll let you leave of your own volition. If you don’t…well let’s just say you’ll probably never see all of your body parts in the same room again.” Quint seemed to take her seriously this time. “Who killed the Viper?” Shin Lao asked. Quint seemed to vapor lock. He didn’t say anything but just floundered, his mouth open and shut. “You can’t be serious” Quint forced out. Shin kneeled down at his side, her pistol pointing upward, tapping lightly at the side of her head. “Note serious face.” She said grimly. There was no humor or emotion in her voice and it was seriously chilling to everybody who heard it. She lowered the pistol so that the barrel was pushed up against the man’s nose. “Boss Tanaka ordered the job. Every wanna-be and has been jumped at the opportunity. There’s no telling who pulled the trigger.” Shin Lao cocked the .45 for effect and pointed it again at the man’s nose. “That’s a lie Quint and both of us know it. Though I don’t doubt that everybody with a trench coat and a weapon jumped at the shot, but I think you know who pulled the trigger.” “I don’t know anything else, I swear!” The man seemed hysterical at this point. He was either a very bad liar or he was telling the truth. There was no way for sure for Skinner to tell, he was just along for the ride at this point.
“OK Bobby, you guys do what you want with this piece of shit. I’m done with him. Hope it’s quick Quint is all that I have to say, but it probably won’t be.” She strode over the man, toward the door. Skinner walked around him and looked at Bobby who simply nodded at him and smiled. “Doncha worry lass. Ye won’t be seein this one around again.” “I know I won’t Bobby. You guys are good people….for criminals anyway.” She reached for the handle of the door when the big man shouted from behind them. The boys from around the pool table were already making their way down to him like ants surrounding a bit of food. “I did it. I pulled the trigger!!” Shin Lao pulled her hand back from the door like it was on fire. Her face twisted into something that Skinner couldn’t tell the difference between. It was either anger or sadness. “Do what you boys want with this piece of shit. He’s not worth my time anymore.” And she walked out of the bar leaving behind the screams and pleas of the professional killer lying on the floor.
Shin Lao got into the Aston Martin and shoved the key into the ignition. Skinner got in a couple of seconds later, not quite sure what to do with this new information or even what you would say to a grieving hired killer. “I’d better get you back to the station so you can fix up your life a little bit. Just tell them that one of Tanaka’s guys kidnapped you for information. Officer Warren was there to see you and happened by at the wrong moment.” “You think that’ll fly? I don’t. For one I don’t look like I’ve been interrogated by any of them.” He didn’t have time to blink before the barrel of Shin Lao’s .45 crossed his face. He felt cartilage crunch and blood well up in his nose from the blow. “That’s taken care of, any other questions detective?” Tears welled up in Skinner’s eyes. He was certain that his nose was broken. “Now you realize that I’m gonna have to throw you from a moving vehicle correct?” “What?! Skinner said as best he could through the pain and his swelling nose. “To make it look legit. Oh, and Elias’ funeral is in three days. Show up if you’d like.”
They sped off through the row in silence. Skinner was unsure what to do now and Shin Lao simply seemed to be made out of stone. There was no sign of emotion on her face as they neared the police station, and not a sound out of her as she pushed a button on her side of the car and the passenger side door opened quite unexpectedly. She gave Skinner a rough shove while he was still surprised and he hit the pavement and rolled across the pavement. The several cops standing outside either just going on shift or just about ready to go home rushed over to him, stopping traffic before anything serious happened. He was helped to his feet by the younger officers and walked inside. His entire face was now swollen up and severely bruised. His whole body ached thanks to the thirty miles per hour skid down the rough asphalt.