FATAL eMPULSE (49 page)

The young man scratched his head. “Red on red, blue on blue?”

A scowl crossed Bill’s face. Tom smiled, knowing a lecture was about to follow. Bill peered up at Firecracker. “The one time I teach you young pups something useful about gangs, and you sleep through my classes. Okay. Here’s gang class 101—again. We’ve got several wars going on in this state between a handful of major prison gangs. One of these wars is between two Hispanic groups – those calling themselves ‘Nortenos’ or ‘Northerners,’ and those calling themselves ‘Surenos’ or ‘Southerners.’”

He looked down at the victim lying on the ground. “Each side answers to one primary prison gang. The Norteno answer to the Nuestra Familia—like this guy here. The Surenos answer to the Mexican Mafia.”

“I know enough Spanish to know Nuestra Familia has something to do with family,” Firecracker said. He seemed to have forgotten about collecting names of those on scene.

“Yeah, it means ‘Our Family,’ but they’re anything but family. They’re a bunch of ruthless killers controlling their members with fear, intimidation and violence.”

“Sounds like their family’s a little dysfunctional.”

Bill pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. “Major dysfunctional. Anyway, Nortenos claim the color red and Surenos claim the color blue.”

Tom glanced down at the body. “But this guy’s not showing any colors.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Bill said. “If this was a blue on red killing, they must have known he was a Northerner. And with those tats, they knew he was high up in the gang world, an OG with juice.”

“Translate.”

Bill laughed. “Sorry. OG Refers to ‘Older Gangster,’ someone who’s been around and earned respect in the gang.”

Tom unbuttoned his shirt sleeves and rolled them up to his elbow. An afternoon breeze teased his face with a hint of cooler weather. He stared at the dead man at his feet.

Firecracker pressed on. “But what if this was red on red?”

“That’s not as easy to answer. If it’s internal, we’re going to have a harder time trying figuring it out. A sanctioned hit had to come from the leadership, since an NF member was killed. No one else can lay a hand on one of their members. If this was an NF hit, we just moved into a whole new ball game. I’m not even sure who the players might be in this league.”

Tom grimaced. “I’ve been working those Russain OC cases out of the valley for the last few years. My gang contacts with CDC—California Department of Corrections—have moved on to green pastures. How are your contacts, Bill?

Bill grinned at his friend. “Oh, do I have a treat for you. I can’t wait until you meet my connection. He runs SSU unit here in the North bay.”

“SSU?” Firecracker asked, as if he was a part of the conversation. “What’s that—some kind of college?”

Bill gave him another scowl, then turned to his partner. “Tom, would you say the states’ Special Services Unit is some kind of college.”

Tom shook his head. “The guys in SSU graduated from the school of hard knocks. They know how to square off with the worst offenders in the state.”

He turned back to the dead body. The tattoos, the execution, the way this guy was whacked made him knot up inside. This killing was different. He sensed a storm might be heading their way.

A killer storm that no one could control.

(To be published 2013)

M
ARK
Y
OUNG is an American novelist. His second novel,
Off the Grid(A Gerrit O'Rourke Novel)
, was his first international thriller.
Fatal Impulse
is the sequel. Prior to his full-time writing career, he served as a police officer with the Santa Rosa Police Department in California for twenty-six years; an award-winning journalist; and a Vietnam combat veteran. He served with several law enforcement task force operations, including the presidential Organized Crime and Drug Enforcement Task Force targeting major drug traffickers, and the federal Organized Crime Task Force charged with identifying and prosecuting prison gang leaders. He lives in the Pacific Northwest with his family.

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FATAL eMPULSE

All rights reserved

Copyright © 2012 by Mark Young

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced, in any form or by any means, without written permission from the author excluding the use of short excerpts for review or promotional purposes.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales are purely coincidental unless specifically acknowledged.