Hard Case V: Blood and Fear (A John Harding Novel Book 5) (23 page)

Tommy swerved off to the side of the road, pointing at me with attitude. “Don’t even think about replacing me with that white-bread psycho. I called you, didn’t I?”

I gulped air while making calming gestures at Tommy. “It’s me, brother. I’m a little mangled in the brain. I detest this guy. You know what I did to his compatriots to get a lead on his whereabouts. He was slick, and getting off on it that he had protected his ass so well. Today, the bill comes due in a very bad way. It may be quick, or it may be lengthy, but my buddy Glock will wish he’d never come back to the Bay. He murdered two kids practically in front of my house, and fired a couple of shots at the Sparks twins, laughing as he drove off. Sterner has haunted my head ever since.”

Tommy steered onto the road again. “We have a good approach plan, with brief cases, and looking to share a power lunch. I wonder what kind of gimmick he could have going where he can simply stand out there dealing like he’s on the corner of Foothill and International at midnight. I’m glad Eric left before he got spotted, but I wish he’d given us a hint about what the hell Glock was up to.”

The rich get their upgrades from doctors usually, but with the changes in drug prescription rules, even prescriptions were hard to come by. “If he looks as good as Eric said, it’s a perfect place where the clientele are comfortable, and the police presence is at a minimum. Unless the customers complain, he’s golden.”

“How do you want to play it?”

“We’ll be walking toward the restaurant, smiling and talking. We spot him, walk over, and I act like I know him. It doesn’t matter then what he does. He’s coming with us.”

“What are you packing in case he has reinforcements, your .45?”

“Yep. What about you, T? Did you bring your Glock in honor of the occasion?”

“Of course. I should bring the riot gun, but it’s too hard to conceal. He could have a pack of wolves in the background. You can bet he answers prearranged appointments there. If he’s dealing the high end product, he won’t be there by himself. We’re going to spot them first, right?”

I thought that was a given. It goes to show I’m so into this I’m thinking like a teenager in the backseat with his date for the first time. “We have to. Otherwise we could have a few side-shooting idiots turning the place into a blood bath. They won’t be real close to him, or it would be useless to deal out of a setting like the Chalet.”

“We’ll be careful, John. That’s a wide street in front. We’ll have plenty of room to do some scouting as if we’re looking for a parking place. It’s the main reason I drove my dark tinted Acura.”

“Your tinting’s darker than legal. I should report you, but the idea’s good.”

“Me!” Tommy stared at me for a moment at the stoplight in open mouthed shock. “You have your damn soccer mom van’s glass so dark it looks like the Black Hole of Calcutta!”

“I can’t let the softball gear get too hot in there,” I answered defensively. It proves the old saying, those who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw rocks. Damn soccer mom van anyway.

“Awww… isn’t that sweet. Get your head back in the game, Dark Lord. Here we go.”

The wide, one way Lakeside Drive fronting Lake Chalet Bar and Grill with two full parking lanes on either side, and two driving lanes, made for an easy scouting trip. The traffic on a Sunday afternoon amounted to a few cars going by in staggered form on the two lanes. I spotted Sterner in one pass. He leaned casually against a new black E-class Mercedes convertible working on the touchscreen of a tablet. If I were a cop, I wouldn’t have given him a second look. Eric was right. Sterner looked good. Given the distance between the restaurant entrance and the walkway between road and restaurant approach, Sterner positioned himself in a perfect position to be seen from the Lake Merritt side or Lakeside Drive.

“The bastard has a nice setup here,” Tommy commented.

“Let’s find where his posse is, and then introduce ourselves.” As we drove by, a couple walking around Lake Merritt approached Sterner all smiles and waves, admiring the Mercedes while conversing with Sterner. The guy shook hands with Sterner, and the deal was done. Waving happily, the couple walked off to pharmaceutical heaven. Tommy drove slowly while I watched with my mini-range finders. “Damn, that was just as slick as you please. Take it around again, T. I’m sure-”

“Check the fire-escape landing nearest the ground over here on the building by my side across from the Chalet.”

I focused on the landing Tommy pointed out, and there they were, three out of place looking thugs with thigh high pants, hoodies, sunglasses, and ball-caps - the usual uniform of the day for ‘bangers no matter what anyone says. The only problem is now they’re a protected species. They can walk into any place of business, pull off an armed robbery, or shoplift at will, without being questioned or identified on security tapes. After all, their feelings might be hurt. I still remember that jackass councilman wearing a specially made suit with hoodie in solidarity with the poor misunderstood gangbangers. I did wonder if they had the final ladder rigged for a quick drop to the ground. See, no one in their right mind owning an apartment building in Oakland leaves the fire-escape ladder jacked all the way to the ground. The final ladder drops down from the landing nearest the ground. Shit, we’d have to either follow Sterner home, or coax his buddies down to get a piece. If we did that, we’d have to turn Glock into the cops.

Tommy rounded Lakeside to make another approach. He stopped well out of sight. “We’re fucked, John. If you want him dead, we’ll have to wait and follow. If we get the ‘bangers down the ladder, we’ll still have three more bodies. I know we could coax them down by hassling Sterner, but then what?”

“I have to hand it to them, T. That is one sweet spot with ‘bangers occupying the high ground as lookouts and enforcers. I saw the one in the middle with expensive binoculars scanning the area as if he were bird watching on the Lake surface for rare species. One more time around. I didn’t have a chance to see if the ‘bangers actually had a way down from the fire-escape landing. It could be if they see anyone approaching who looks like trouble they text a warning to Sterner, and send one of the guys down through the building.”

Tommy circled the block. He slowed way down so I could scope the particulars of the fire-escape as we approached. “No ladder to the ground, T, and only one of two apartments with access to the landing. Pull over here, and we’ll watch for a while. I have an idea.”

“Uh oh.” Tommy parked in the parking lane on the right.

“Very funny. We’ll wait until one of the ‘bangers goes inside, showing us which window he goes through. It’s the third floor, middle apartments. I’ll go in, knock on the door, zap the one that answers, and go inside to wait for the other two. They’ll investigate either whatever noise I make or their missing companion’s whereabouts.”

“Not bad,” Tommy replied. “With those guys restrained, we can approach Sterner without worrying. I like it. What about the ‘bangers?”

Oh well. “I don’t like their chances.” I was already fishing around in my equipment bag, retrieving my hotshot kit, and another couple pieces of clothing. I then took off my suitcoat.

“What’s formulating in that Cheese head of yours? Hey… is that a hoodie?”

“Damn right. We’re trying to have as little recognition factor as possible. I didn’t invent the game.” I slipped on my black hoodie, Oakland Raiders ball cap, and sunglasses. “How do I look?”

Tommy chuckled, shaking his head. “Like a big ‘banger going into a 7/11 store to score without being recognized on video, except for the pants. Remember to keep your chin tucked. There goes one inside, John. It’s the apartment on the left as you look at the building.”

“I have my earpiece in, T. Let’s make sure our communications work when I get to the door with a second check at the apartment door.”

“I’ll be listenin’. Be careful in there. Don’t get your Dark Lord ass hung out to dry. If the entry is too risky, we’ll find him later.”

I slipped out of the Acura with a wave. The traffic was light, and I crossed while keeping eyes on the fire-escape landing. We were far enough down Lakeside Drive, I didn’t get even a curious glance. At the apartment building, I picked a buzzer at random.

“Yeah?” The gruff female voice sounded hungover.

“PG&E (Pacific Gas & Electric). Building circuit check. Sorry to bother you.”

“Oh… okay.”

The buzzer went off, and I was in. “I’m on my way to the stairs. Can you hear me now?”

“I knew you’d pull that crappy ad saying out of your ass!”

Heh, heh… it was still funny to me anyway. I avoided the elevator, found the stairs, and bounded up them into a position outside the door of our suspected lookout post. “Outside the door, T.”

“All three are on the fire-escape landing.”

“Good. I’ll let you know how it works out with the first one. Keep me informed on the other two.”

“Will do.”

I rang the apartment buzzer. There was the sound of a window opening and closing. Then I heard the clothing rustle of a hurried penguin walk to the door. I called out before he did the security eye in the door scan. “PG&E! Reported gas leak scan.”

The door opened, and I zapped my brother hoodie, grabbed the clothes in a bunch at his neck while kicking the door shut gently. “Heading to the window.”

“No movement.”

I took out my hotshot kit, sent brother hoodie to the happy hunting ground, and put him off to the side. When you bake cookies, or even pot-roast, you can’t rush the process. “Let me know when I get the next ‘banger interested,” I whispered.

“Of course. Speak of the devil. You have a bite, DL.”

The window opened, and a loud ‘eyyyyyy… echoed around the room. My deceased hoodie brother must have promised to bring something out on the landing for his brethren. I made no noise, waiting patiently for hoodie number two’s decision. I wanted to do him as close as possible to the window, where the last hoodie would hear the application of electricity. He busted in trying to make an impressive pissed off entrance, but it’s hard as hell to do it in penguin pants. He made it, and I gave him an Arc of the Covenant long dose, where he most definitely thought he saw the afterlife, by the way his eyeballs nearly launched out of his skull.

“The noise startled the last guy, John. He dropped his binoculars. He’s listening by the window.”

“Where you assholes at?” The last hoodie stuck his head in to peek, and I plucked him inside by the hood, letting him pitch onto his face with a yelp.

I lit him up, and then gave my last two contestants their final pharmaceutical adjustment. I helped them each into a chair nice and comfy, and stretched the first one on the room couch like he was sleeping. In a way he was. My work was done here. I shed my hoodie disguise when I reached the Acura. Tommy handed me my suitcoat.

“The partiers in the area will not like you wiping out their supply line, DL.”

“We haven’t snagged the pretty face of the operation yet. Besides, they’ll have another crew on site by tomorrow afternoon.” I straightened my tie and jacket neatly. I ran a hand through my buzz-cut hair while looking at Tommy questioningly. “How’s my hair, T?”

“What hair. Quit preening, and let’s collect Sterner. How do you want to do it?”

“We’re going to arrest him. I have my FBI credentials with me. We flushed his backup crew, so we may as well do a straight on arrest. We’ll collect his car too. Gus and the guys can work it over and add it to our fleet. It’ll seem to their supplier that Glock took off with the car, product, and somehow aced his crew.”

“Good one,” Tommy approved. “Let me do it. I brought my credentials. I’ve never done it before.”

I should have thought about giving Tommy a chance before. “Sure. I’ll follow your lead. I’ll cinch him into restraints while you read him his rights. We’ll put him in his car, and I’ll drive Glock baby right to Pain Central. We’ll let Crue find out who his area supplier is, and then take him with us on our training voyage in The Lora.”

“You’re gettin’ damn good at this shit,” Tommy replied. “There’s a parking spot three car lengths back from him. I’ll pull in. We’ll get out nice and loose, walk over to him, and box him in. He packs a knife, John, so if he reaches, Gronk him.”

“My pleasure, Special Agent Sands.”

Tommy parked. We didn’t run over to Sterner, who remained engrossed in whatever game he was playing on his electronic gizmo. Hell, maybe he diligently worked an Excel spreadsheet for his drug sales for all I know. Tommy and I talked amiably as we came abreast of Sterner. Then we boxed him. He shifted to see over his shoulder for the backup crew that would never come. He pulled the innocent outrage card with passion as Tommy held his FBI credentials where Sterner could see them. I watched his hands. I let him stick his electronic tablet in his coat pocket, but grabbed the wrist when the hand stayed down in the pocket. Tommy grabbed his other free hand.

“That’s enough pocket pool Sterner,” Tommy said, as Sterner’s face began to register pain. “I’m Special Agent Sands. This is Special Agent Harding. You’re under arrest for distributing and transporting narcotics.”

Sterner listened without a word while Tommy Mirandized him, very smoothly I might add. Tommy must watch a lot of cop shows. When he reached the ‘do you understand these rights’ Sterner answered.

“Yeah. One word: lawyer.”