OUR STORY SO FAR: Detective Claudia Dela Cruz thought she had the McCarthy Mob where she wanted them when she arrested Oscar Rayne at Gold Duck making off with twenty seven thousand dollars. But things went south when she realized Detective O'Neil has betrayed her and and that she was in the clutches of desperate men that would stop at nothing to save their own skins. Click here to start from the beginning: http://dublinsworld.blogspot.
BASED ON TRUE EVENTS
It was definitely a bad night, no doubt, but not one of the worst. The night Cabbagepatch had spent with his cousin feuding with that crew in Atlanta, that had been one of the God forsaken worst. Then, there was the night he had shot it out on the border with the knuckleheads wrapped up in the Banana Trail meth deal -definitely one of the worst. This night, with the rat at the Christmas party and Pat and all the bullshit? Not the worst exactly, but it was going to make the top five.
It was a shame about Pat. Boy wasn’t nothing but a drunk and here that had led him to mouthing off and getting shot. Cabbagepatch had watched Pat's eyes glaze over, staring up from the floor. He had watched the blood gathering around Pat’s body and soaking into his blue silk shirt, turning it black. Cabbagepatch had watched Leo as the old man looked down at his nephew's corpse with a face whiter than any white man Cabbagepatch had ever seen. Then Leo had raised his gun and blew the back of that fool Ken’s head off.
White Charlie turned in the passenger seat and told Bobby to step on it and Patch watched from the back seat of the car as Bobby nodded his head. All three men knew what time it was; they didn’t have the luxury to mess around or play it safe, as soon as they dumped both bodies in the back room of the paint shop Leo had told them to get in the car and meet O’Neil halfway. They would take the undercover and put her in the trunk, add her to the two other bodies as quick as they could. They would be able to fill a cemetery by the time the night was through.
Patch was pretty sure they should have spotted O’Neil’s car by then. He stretched forward in his seat and looked over White Charlie’s shoulder at the street ahead. The only way to make the crew thing work was to stick together, that’s how you kept it tight and that’s how you made money. But here they were, not making any money, shooting each other and digging up bitches that turned out to be undercover cops. When things went south you had to start thinking about your escape plan and your own way out, that was real talk.
Something funny was going on at the corner of Howard and 4th, there were three cars stopped in the street and a group of civilians were gathered in front of what appeared to be a smashed in store front. Was a riot on? Patch wished he paid more attention to what was going down in the world.
“Look there!”
Charlie was pointing across the street in the opposite direction of the crowd. Patch followed the old man’s crooked finger and squinted, making out a white boy walking with a bag that had some sort of heart on it, making his way up towards Market. The white boy turned his head, glancing down the street, and Patch felt the heat of violence on his neck when he saw it was Oscar.
Bobby hit the brakes, hard, and Patch tasted the back of Charlie’s seat in his mouth.
“Go get him,” Charlie said.
Bobby was already out of the car, dashing through the street. Charlie turned around and nodded at Patch to join him up front. The big man got out the back door and made his way around to the driver seat, easing himself in before pointing towards the people gathered at the smashed store front.
“We should check that out chief,” he said to Charlie.
“What the fuck for?” the old man growled.
“Oscar was coming from over there, whan’t he?”
The old man scowled for a moment and then motioned towards the curb. They pulled over and made their way towards the crowd on foot, Patch double checking the .32 under his jacket. They had to ease through the civilians who were standing around looking worried in front of the devastated storefront. Patch could see why, it looked like a bomb had gone off in the store, there was glass and plaster and wood everywhere. He turned and scanned the street, no sighn of Bobby and Oscar. They didn't have long to peep the scene, the cops would be there any second now.
He and Charlie made their way into the carnage and found a tan Pontiac had parked itself up into the counter of the shop. Some civilian was helping Bob O’Neil out of the driver seat, there was blood all over the cop’s face and down the front of his suit.
“Put me down!” the fat cop said.
The little guy helping him appeared relieved as he eased the fat man to the wood floor. O’Neil was cringing in pain and Patch could see that the right leg of the cop’s pants was torn up and blackened with blood.
“We got it from here son,” Charlie told the civilian.
The little man wore glasses and he blinked up at Charlie, confused.
“This is a police matter son, move along.”
Charlie nodded his head towards the sidewalk. The man continued to blink, looking at Charlie and then over at Cabbagepatch; they didn’t look anything like cops from this universe.
“There’s a woman in the car. She may be-”
White Charlie cut the man off by pulling the barretta from his pocket and pointing it at the man’s face.
“Get the fuck out of here or we’ll arrest you, take you to jail. You understand you little back talking fucker?”
The eyes continued to blink behind the glasses as the man quickly made his way through the debris towards the opening at the front of the store.
“That sure don’t help,” O’Neil said from the floor.
White Charlie still had the gun in his hand and stared down at the wounded cop with a fury that made Cabbagepatch suspect the old man might go ahead and shoot the cop right then and there.
“What in the hell happened?” Charlie growled.
“The bitch went nuts in the car. I had the kid cuffed in the back and he made off with a bag of cash, just a minute ago. You can fucking catch him.”
“We spotted him when we pulled up, Bobby’s tailing him.”
O’Neill wiped the blood from his nose and said: “Tell the spick to be careful, the bastard’s got my gun.”
“And just when I thought you couldn’t fuck things up worse,” Charlie muttered.
“This is not going to be on me. None of this. I’m hurt bad and you and Patch get me down to the hospital-”
“You ain’t going no where,” Charlie replied. “We’re here for the girl. You’re staying to clean up your mess.”
“My mess? My fucking mess?” O’Neil grimaced as he tried to drag himself closer to where White Charlie stood. “I’ve done my fucking best to contain the fucking situation. My fucking best. Now I need the rest of you fuckers to add a little fucking effort.”
Charlie looked down at him and spat towards the car.
“You made this mess detective,” he said. “If you had been doing your job we would have known about the rat and the little bitch with the purse. What the fuck does Leo pay you for? Besides, we got plenty of other mess to square away.”
Charlie glanced at Cabbagepatch and nodded towards the car. Patch kicked a broken stool and some plastic shards out of the way so he could open the passenger door. The girl’s body slid out as it opened and he was quick to catch her head and drag her out onto the floor.
He recognized her as one of the girls that Marvin had brought, the one he had to tell to get in the closet when the boys grabbed Oscar. She had a thick cut from her hairline to her eyebrow, probably from when her head hit the windshield. Patch had to admit she was pretty, it was hard to think of her as a cop. She had a rain coat on over her tight blue dress and one of her breasts was well on its way to falling out onto the glass covered floor.
“What the fuck you doing?” White Charlie growled. “Get the bitch and lets go.”
Patch pulled the dress up so it was snug on her chest, then he dragged her up by the arm pits and threw her up over his shoulder. He carried her over to Charlie who was looking down at O'Neil with the same simmer as before.
“You keep this shit locked down, you hear me Bob? Lock it down.”
“I’ll do what’s fucking necessary,” O’Neil said and lit a cigarette, blowing smoke up into the dust that still swirled about in what was left of the devastated bagel shop.
White Charlie led the way back through the crowd and Cabbagepatch kept his eyes forward as he followed the old man through the throng.
“Make some room people. We gotta get this lady to a doctor,” Charlie muttered. The dozen or so people stared at the giant black man carrying the woman to the waiting Cadillac that sat at the curb.
Patch opened the back door and gently lay the cop on to the seat . He looked at her face, nice face. It worried him that a woman that beautiful could be a cop. Where was the world headed with this kind’a shit?
White Charlie got back into the passenger seat and Cabbagepatch lowered his giant frame into the driver’s side, starting the Cadillac.
“We waiting on Bobby?” he asked.
“No, we’re going back to base with the package. If he catches the rat, good. If not- fuck it.”
Patch nodded and flipped a u-turn on Howard, heading towards the paint store. White Charlie rolled his window down a bit and lit a cigarette, glancing back at the woman they carried as cargo. Patch could feel the tension burning off the old man.
“If Leo’s smart he’ll cut that bitches throat,” Charlie said.
Patch nodded. This was definitely in the top three most fucked up nights ever, he thought to himself, maybe top two. It was close, that was for sure.
***
Oscar was buying the train ticket when he spotted Bobby coming down the stairs. He happened to look up, glancing towards his right, and there Bobby was, coming down into station and obviously on a trail while being oblivious that it was obvious. Oscar kept his eyes on him as he pulled the paper ticket from the slot and stepped a few paces from the ticket machine, putting the attendant booth between him and Bobby.
Bobby wouldn’t be alone, there would at least be one other guy. Oscar leaned around the corner of the attendant booth and scanned the other side of the station. A bum was playing guitar for four or five people by the other ticket machine, there was an asian couple headed towards the turnstile and a few people headed up the stairs to the street above. Oscar needed to pull Bobby and whoever was with him down to the tracks below to get the jump on them. He couldn’t make a move in front of the attendant; one push of the alert button and the station would be swarming with cops.
Keeping his gaze straight ahead, Oscar went around the attendant booth and began to descend the escalator down to the platform. He took his time, giving Bobby time to spot him. He could hear the scream of a train’s arrival below, perfect. Oscar touched down on the platform just as the train pulled into the station and he continued to keep his gaze forward, walking along side the moving train as it came to a stop.
As soon as the train doors opened Oscar stepped in and made his way to the end of the car. He forced the connector doors open and stepped into the next car, taking position in the seat beside the door. He pulled O’Neil’s pistol from his waistband and looked around. There were six people total, spread around the car in various seats reading and listening to their phones.
He waited patiently until he heard the connector doors open. He stayed perfectly still, out of view from the doors as he watched Bobby walk by him. As soon as Bobby was a few steps down the aisle Oscar calmly stood up and shoved the .38 into the lower part of the man's back.
“Take it easy Bobby."
Bobby stayed still as Oscar reached into the man's leather jacket and pulled the little silver pistol from the inside pocket, then they both just stood there, stationary in the aisle as the train pulled into the next station. A large group got on, chattering along drunkenly, no one glancing over or even noticing the two men standing together at the end of the car. They went through two more stations in silence before Bobby finally spoke.
“What’s with that little girl’s bag you got?” he said.
“Money,” Oscar replied.
“Your money?”
“Yes.”
“Is it the money the Croat stole from Leo?”
“The Croat didn’t steal it,” Oscar said.
“You kill the Croat right?”
Oscar didn’t let it bother him, Bobby was definitely the dimmest bulb of the group.
“Bill walked off a cliff. I didn’t kill him,” he said.
“Walked off a cliff? Damn. I mean, that’s just- I don’t even know what to say to that.”
The train pulled into the Daly City station and most of the people in the car got off. Oscar pushed Bobby by the shoulder, leading him up to the door. He pulled the man’s phone from his jacket and his wallet from his pants.
“Have a good life Bob.”
The conductor’s voice came through the speakers announcing that passengers should “stand clear of the doors” and Oscar shoved Bobby onto the platform, the doors closing right behind him. Bobby stared through the windows defiantly, following the car as it pulled away. Oscar stared back until the train picked up speed and lost sight of the platform, then he sat down on the seat with the bag and waited for the train to reach the airport.
