Abuse of Chikara (book 1) (8 page)

He had made the major mistake of thinking the gangs in Chicago were the same as the ones in Mexico. In Mexico, they didn’t tell the police anything no matter what. Loose lips didn’t sink ships in Mexico unless they wanted themselves, their relatives and friends killed. No such luck with the gangster apostles he had hired. One of them had ratted him out to cut a deal on his own crimes. He did have a lot of fun shooting his films in Chicago, though. He had gotten some great shots of Sears Tower.The Bean and different buildings downtown. His film had been about two African American boys abandoned by their parents, growing up on the streets and raised by gangbangers..These real-life gangbangers had proven to be a valuable source of information for his films, offering all sorts of feedback on the storyline. They had no problems acting out the murders, rapes and home invasion in his films as many of the “actors” had been doing these things long before they met him. They even had a signature look that had played well on film. The thugs would poke holes in sweaters; turn them around when it was time for action.

It had been a good run making his films, but now it was time to go eat lunch. Nick could eat with pretty much any one at any table. He was something of a celebrity in here. He was cool with all the different races of people in here. It was kind of unfortunate that he couldn’t walk around unnoticed because of the publicity in the paper and the news. Strange how he had a much larger following now. People paid good money to purchase his films. He even had some film producers asking him to write scripts under a false pen name of course. Not to mention all the pussy he had gotten in prison. Yep, he had banged at least four black female prison guards. He had always been good at sweet-talking women of any race, and these woman were no different. Women loved powerful men and it did not matter if you were a rich businessman or a thug drug dealer. Good or bad. Powerful men were exciting and excited them. The mere mention of his name got woman hot and ready to come out of their clothing. He had gotten so much tail in prison that he had started turning it down. It was unfortunate that he had gotten at least two of them pregnant. Guess they would have to get with some simple motherfuckers and pass it off as theirs.

Miguel was waving for him to come over to his table and eat with him. “Hey Nick, got an amazing offer for you man.” Beckoning for him to come closer Miguel starts whispering in his ear. “I know a guy who wants to get you out of here. He’s a big fan of your films and wants to see your work continue.”

“Hell yeah, I’m all for it.”

“There is one catch, this person wants to pick the target of your next film.”

“Look, if you can get me out of here to shoot again, I’m all for it.”

“This guy’s going to get you transferred to another prison, but en route you’re going to escape. I’ll go over the details with you later, so be ready.”

A chance to shoot his films again was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. Rumor was that Miguel had contacts with the police, politicians, gangs, and just about most of the major players in Chicago. Nick didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but one thing had been bothering him was about all these rumors he kept hearing about Miguel having so much pull.

“Hey Miguel, I’ve been wondering about something?”

“Go ahead and shoot amigo.”

“If you have so much pull, then why are you still in prison?”

Miguel smiles a big toothy grin and rubs his face before answering.

“I like being in prison, it’s where all my homies are at. Not to mention, I can sell drugs here and smuggle in illegal shit just like I did back on the streets. The fucking prison guards are easier to bribe than the cops. Lastly, it’s fucking fun in here, what’s better than whipping the shit out of white boys, opening those cheeks up with a broom stick and fucking them.”

“I’m sorry I asked now Miguel.”

“Hey, you asked amigo, but forget that and just concentrate on being ready.”

With that Miguel walks off to talk to some of the prison guards and Nick sits back down to finish eating. Might as well get his strength up for whatever comes next.

Red and a number of police officers are off-duty eating at an Indian food restaurant on Chicago and Orleans. Usually they sit around telling stories and seeing who has the best one. Red usually goes first and almost always has the best story to tell.

“Okay guys, I’m driving around Madison and Canal by Union Station when some chick flags me down. She says these two young Asian guys robbed a cab driver and ran into the Union Station building. I went in and beat the snot out of those motherfuckers and arrested them.”

“What did you do to them exactly?” asked Garcia. He usually asked questions during the stories to move them along.

“Man, I had them both handcuffed in the bathroom building and pistol whipped the shit out of them. After I got through pistol-whipping those motherfuckers, I pissed in the toilet and laughed as I put those motherfuckers’ faces in the toilet. I drank a lot of Kool-Aid so I hope they enjoyed it.”

“Did you recover the money they stole?”

“Man, Garcia, I recovered that shit in my pocket.”

“That’s a good one, Red, I see why they call you dirty. Can anybody beat Red’s story?”

“Hey wait, look, some brothers are out there about to throw down. Looks like some type of gang fight, maybe 15 guys from what I see. Maybe we should do something?”

“What do you want to do Red?”

“Fuck that shit Carl, I come here to unwind, not stop some brothers from kicking each others asses. As a matter of fact, this might be some good entertainment. Let those motherfuckers duke it out I say.”

“Okay go ahead Psycho, regale us with your tale of action and courage.”

“Okay, sure thing, Red, my man. Me and my friend Josh were cruising around and drove past this farm. We decided to have some fun and went into one of the barns. Some guys were in that motherfucker making drugs, real small-time operation to be honest. I identified myself as a police officer and gave them an ultimatum. Hook us up with some of that shit or go to jail. Shit, we spent all day getting high and went out and fucked a cow until it passed out on the ground.”

“How the hell do you stop the cow from moving, dude?”

“You place a cart in front and one in back because a cow can’t move sideways, only forward and back. We fucked cows, horses and some sheep.”

Garcia listens to a few more stories and gets up to give his judgment as to who is the winner. He stands and waves his arms emphatically to quiet everyone down.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, all the stories were interesting, but nothing beats getting high and fucking farm animals.”

Psycho takes a bow and thanks all his adoring fans. They get together like this once a month and tell their stories of crazy interactions with the general public. The winner gets money, material items, or the services of a prostitute. The prizes usually change from month to month, depending on what Garcia picked. Red has business to take care of and gets up to leave.

“Okay guys, this has been fun, but I got things to do.” A number of officers say their good-byes to Red as he walks out the restaurant. Everyone starts to say their good- byes and depart, shaking hands and giving manly hugs. The 20 officers head home, or to various other destinations to tend to their daily business half drunk or high from their festivities. As he drives home, Red hopes that everything went okay with getting the producer out of jail. It was a pretty good plan and the guys working the plan were reliable. However, lady chance could always foul things up at any moment.

Nick the producer is sitting in the prison transport vehicle. These things were usually a van or bus retrofitted to transport prisoners from one area to another. Nick had read up on these things while in prison. Because of their relatively low security and isolation from any real assistance when in route, it made perfect sense for him to escape here. The police escorting the prison bus was in on the entire deal. This particular bus didn’t have segregated prisoner compartments and prisoners were merely handcuffed rather than having any more advanced type of restraint. One of the guards came back to check the handcuffs and dropped the key, according to plan, where Nick could get them. He quickly got himself out of the handcuffs and passed the keys to a few more prisoners about 20 in all. When everybody was free Nick attacked one of the guards, quickly knocking him out and taking his gun. He threw this particular guard off the buss per the plan. This guy was the one who dropped the keys and one of the people involved. He was supposed to survive, but the other guard’s lives were up in the air. He shot one in his bullet resistant vest and the other guard let loose firing on prisoners, killing four, but they were quickly overwhelmed.

One of the prisoners takes the wheel and attempts to drive away with it and the police vehicles give chase. Here was the hard part, but what he had to do had been drilled into his head. Going past a forest area he gets read to jump.

“I’m going to jump and take my chances, who’s with me?”

“Dude, fuck that, you’re crazy. Not me motherfucker. Fuck that shit you crazy- ass Mexican. We got hostages bro we do what the fuck we want.”

More prisoners chime in against jumping so Nick is on his own. He opens the door and jumps out at high speed hoping the grass will cushion his fall. He rolls when he hits the ground to protect his limbs. The police had been told to ignore anyone jumping out of the bus and concentrate on the prisoners on it. Those guys wouldn’t get anywhere considering prisoner transportation vehicles usually had a global positioning unit installed and they would not out run the police chargers. Of course, what did you expect from stupid-ass thugs in prison? The guards would get reamed out, of course, for not following proper procedure, but they had been paid a king’s ransom by whomever set this up. The crooks wouldn’t kill the guards, rather they would try to use them as hostages and most likely they would live. Not that he really cared, to be honest, his own safety was more important right now. He did a quick check of his body for damage from the jump. His knee was skinned badly and he knew he had to have broken his left hand as it didn’t respond. He started to run through this forest area to the spot designated for him to be picked up. He’d be taken to a safe area where he would hide and plan his next feature film. A doctor with medical equipment would be provided as well.

Bill was off duty around 11 a.m. driving to Union Station. He is stopping by to check their little drug operation they have running with building security. Normally he would not do this type of business with security officers from a private firm. These guys are usually too undisciplined, undertrained and unfit for this type of thing. However, he’d served in the Army with the head of building security. Guy was named Gilroy and he’d pulled many of Bill’s old unit as security officers. Basically they sold the drugs Bill supplied. It wasn’t a bad set up if you thought about it. They knew where all the cameras were placed at and could easily avoid them. They had high-class customers who didn’t want to draw any attention to themselves and wouldn’t be causing problems or trying to rob anybody. Of course, the owners of the building got their cut without knowing any specifics.

Bill could let them know to lay low if there were any type of investigation from the police or FBI. His information network was that good. He knew about any investigation going on in the city. Hell, that Dudley Do-Right superintendent couldn’t catch him for shit. The officers who had been caught were too stupid to take his warning to lay low. Bill heads through the revolving doors and into the security office.

“How’s it going Gilroy?”

“Been doing well, Bill, cannot complain.”

“I’m just stopping by to see if you’ve got any questions or concerns or problems that you need solved. Everything has been good, clientele is happy, the crew is happy, and management is happy. Wait one second, what is this? What’s going on?” One of the cameras in the management office showed some action outside.

Some white trash redneck is laying the smack down on his girlfriend. It was indeed a large, heavyset white male wearing faded blue jeans, white gym shoes and black shirt.

“Excuse me, Bill, I need to take care of this.”

“No, let me Gilroy, I haven’t had any fun for days.”

“Whatever you say, you’re the man with the plan.”

Bill blows out of the office, startling onlookers in the large hallways of Union Station. He goes through the revolving door at breakneck speed, knocking a few people on their butts; Big Buck, as Bill has named him in his mind, has his car parked on the north plaza before you get to the stairs. Bill decides to try and do this by the book because of so many witnesses standing around outside. He pulls out his badge and makes sure everyone in plain view can see it. “Police, freeze, you’re under arrest!” Big buck stops smacking his sobbing and bloodied girlfriend for a second and looks at Bill.

“Man, fuck you, I’m out of here pig!”

Big Buck jumps in his car and starts to pull off. Feeling the adrenaline pumping through his veins, Bill runs after him and jumps on top of the vehicle’s hood, holding on for dear life. Big Buck goes flying down Madison Avenue, zigging and zagging all over the place trying to shake Bill off the hood of the car. Bill could easily shoot this guy if he wanted to, but he was actually enjoying the ride. A nice sunny day with a good breeze, plus a crazed redneck. What else could a person possibly ask for? He’s at Madison and Halsted now, and Bill gets a good grip on the hood with his left hand. What he planned on doing would be too much for a regular guy, but with his martial arts training he was used to smashing hard objects with fast blows. He draws back with his right arm, smashes and puts it through the windshield. Bill grabs the steering wheel and forces the vehicle off the road to his left. The vehicle smashes into a light pole, making a loud sound like an anvil being dropped on concrete.

Big Buck jumps from the vehicle and and starts to run towards the bus stop across the street, maybe hoping to make a getaway by bus. Bill jumps down from the hood to give chase. His arm is already swelling, but he won’t need it for this punk. Bill tackles Big Buck from behind, taking out his legs. It would have been an illegal tackle if he still were playing football. Jumping to his feet Bill kicks Big Buck in the face with his left foot before he can get up. He could finish it here, but let’s Big Buck get up so he can knock him back down again. Big Buck gets up and starts throwing punches, which Bill easily slaps away using just his right hand. Normally he’d use different combinations of wrestling, karate kung fu or boxing to take this guy out. but his bum arm had taken away a number of options, so it was time to finish this quick. Bill kicks Big Buck in the stomach with his left foot, sending him falling back and creating some space. Big Buck gets back up cursing, and charges toward Bill, who kicks him in the forehead with his right foot. The bottom of his foot connects with such speed that his leg is just a blur and snaps Big Buck’s head back. Big Buck goes down on his knees gasping for breath.