Hard Case V: Blood and Fear (A John Harding Novel Book 5) (34 page)

I grab Jess’s shoulders while trying to keep my disrespectful ass in check. “Jess! I haven’t even cleaned my gun from popping a couple guys at the hospital last night. I’ll change clips right now. I’ll go to Mama’s house, and shoot every gangbanger for a mile in the vicinity of her house right through the head. Let’s go!”

Jess snorted, trying not to bust out laughing himself while framing words to explain, but Dev beat him to it.

“Not to downplay this crap happening to Jess’s Mom, it’s the new paradigm when gangs get run out of familiar territory. They establish a presence in Section Eight housing supposedly going toward the needy and downtrodden – yeah right. They’re hitting Jess’s Mom’s block right now. She’s been vocal about not letting them in, meaning Section Eight housing bottoms out the real estate values while introducing a violent factor. The bastards have already thrown crap through her windows, and painted graffiti on her house last night.”

My monster side welled up in spite of all the proverbial irons in the fire already. “First off… when did you start using words like paradigm, Dev? Secondly why is this the first I’ve heard of your Mom’s problems, Jess?”

“Until Mom banged on my door last night, I had no idea it had shot past her protests, and into a war. I know we’re up to our eyeballs with plots and crap. Dev had to talk me into coming over here after what you, Clint, and Lynn had to go through. I’m the youngest of six. My brothers and sisters have all moved out of the area. You, Dev, and Mama are the only ones I know still livin’ in the city. I see Earl and ‘Rique over at The Warehouse when I take Mama out to eat, but they can’t do shit about this. It’s like that damn ‘Knockout Game’ they tried to launch around here. We can’t let this shit happen on our turf.”

“First off,” Dev says, pointing at me, “fuck you, John. I may not know as many languages as you, but I certainly know this one better than you… prick. I knew we’d have to move on this quick or the assholes doing this will already be taking over around Florence’s house.”

“I agree. Sorry… I couldn’t pass up the paradigm dig. After all the action at 1 am in the hospital, I did get some decent snoozing time. Come in and have coffee with me, while I say hi to Lora and Al. We’ll kick around a few options about what to do. Your Mom’s in a nice section of Coolidge. Why the hell would those idiots put Section Eight housing in that area? It’s been a dismal failure everywhere they’ve done it. The gangsters send in dupes to qualify, and then take the houses over for everything from crack dealin’ to meth labs, and prostitution. C’mon inside, and let’s hash this out.”

Lora and Al swarmed me when I cleared the door. I have monitors in the safe-room, so once I texted them I was on my way home, they were watching for me. “I smell breakfast.”

“We heard you guys talking, and started scrambling every egg in the house,” Lora said, holding on to me. “There’s plenty of coffee. Al and I will finish the eggs and bacon for you guys.”

“God bless you, Mrs.” Jess rubbed his eyes with shoulders heaving in joy, as if he were Bob Cratchit, receiving word of a raise in salary from Ebenezer Scrooge.

Once we were seated in the kitchen with coffee, Al went to work on me. I could tell her heart wasn’t in it, and she was acting on behest of her Mom. “You should have called, Dad. You knew we’d get one of those streaming headline things about a terrorist hospital attack on the TV.”

“I couldn’t send anything out, because I had to keep the line completely open, including blocking you and your Mom for a while. I had Denny let you know we were okay. That was the best I could do until this morning.”

Lora delivered a heaping platter of scrambled eggs, with Al adding toast and the bacon on separate plates. It reminded me I hadn’t had anything to eat for quite a while. “I’m getting you a burner phone for your equipment bag, so you can at least send a text that you’re okay, and still keep the main line clear. We heard what you were saying, Jess, on the monitor. Does your Mom really think you’re a crime boss?”

“It’s being the youngest. When I joined the army with Dev, she nearly had a stroke. Then I got into doing the back alley fights after my discharge, and she had my whole family ragging me. Losin’ Dad so sudden a few years back messed with her mind. She’s so convincing, I had brothers and sisters crossing me off their reunion lists, thinking I might get assassinated at their houses. When Mama banged on my door, and began shouting about my chickens coming to roost, my Karen nearly laughed herself into a coma. She tried explaining I stopped criminals not helped them. I showed her my FBI credentials a hundred times since she started hinting I was a crook, but she says they’re fakes. It’s been funny until now when I’m getting blamed for gangsters messing with her home.”

“Florence thought I was a good influence on Jess until he joined the army with me,” Dev explained. “Now she won’t listen to anything I say. She thinks I’m in on it too. Jess is lucky he was able to convince her to stay at his house. If this wasn’t so serious, I’d get John to dress like Vito Corleone, and we’d pretend he was guaranteeing to look into it since she thinks you’re part of the gang anyway.”

Even Al liked that idea, but I thought it would get us in a deeper hole. “What I should do is take her over to the San Francisco FBI office, where Sam and Janie are stationed now. She couldn’t deny you were an agent then, Jess.”

Jess shook his head. “Those two hate our guts. When Denny pulled strings to get us in officially, Sam nearly blew a gasket. Remember him storming into our office to protest, John?”

“Yeah, the ungrateful bastard. I’ll get Janie to be our greeter, and Sam better keep his mouth shut. He’s a good guy. He just doesn’t understand when you need certain talents in certain places, you can’t wait for all the red tape to finish unraveling. I’ll set the wheels in motion. I have both their private lines. Those are official FBI credentials. She must think you’re a hell of an artist to make a set like that. Now, let’s hear your ideas on the plague being visited on Flo’s home in the meantime.”

“Like you’re aware of, John, these punks shoot first, and ask questions later. Jess and I were thinking of getting a line on this bunch through Laredo and Jafar. Then we hit their crib. I’ve seen you in action. You could fill in for Crue in a second. We’re hoping the ones behind this action are other gang hierarchy thugs, or possibly some local guys thinking to make a name for themselves. If it’s a Cartel establishing a presence, we’re well aware that would be bad news.”

I sat back in my chair after Dev stopped speaking, considering seriously we had too many coincidences. We had an attempted takeover of the ports, a ‘Bulgarian Ghost’, and soldiers from the Nigerian Boko Haram contingent, all making their presence known with other local thugs thrown into the mix. “I think we’re lucky in a way, Jess. There are damn well too many coincidences around here since we heard about Phoebe Christova. It may be a small sprout on a larger tree, but we may as well take care of this business, if only to find out what their first move after entails. Wait one.”

I called into Central Command, located of course with our holding cells, and Pain Central. “It’s your nickel,” Laredo responded. “I’m a little busy here, John.”

“I think we’ve inadvertently ran into another thread from Christova with gangs using the old ‘Section Eight’ poor and downtrodden card to take over distribution points in Oakland. Can you delve into that and get back to me. If the lead looks promising, would you let Denny know? He’s there with Gus. Maybe they can get something tangible from our many new guests.”

“Jafar got here only a few minutes ago. We’ll work it right away. Damn, I hope you’re wrong. God only knows what the hell is going on with what I’ve already traced in terms of payments, and our main leak. It’s not good, brother.”

“We had far too short a vacation. I’ll be glad when we purchase that damn island.”

“Amen to that. Gotta’ go, John. Talk to you in a few.”

“Yep.” I disconnected, to face my audience. “By the sound of things I don’t think I’m far off on the connections part of this. Laredo’s praying it’s not true, but from the tone of his voice, and what he’s found out, we may be in for a world of hurt.”

“Great!” Dev looked like I felt. “I was hoping for Jess and Mommy issues, easily rectified with a couple of beat-downs to the right people.”

Jess nearly coughed up the egg he’d swallowed whole in a piece of toast. “Me and Mommy issues… oh… it is so on, Dev. Payback’s a bitch, buddy.”

I enjoyed the interaction completely. These two had been together since grade school, fought the same fights in school, and on a battlefield far from home. They had each other’s back without question, which is why I didn’t discount anything they came to me with. “If you two are done grab-assin’, I think I know a way to bring this into the open for extra inspection.”

“You do?” Jess didn’t look convinced at all; and Dev merely smiled, knowing he’d hear the plan in real time, so who cares about the threads connecting it.

“It depends on Laredo and Jafar getting us more info, such as the trademark name of the group causing the damage. We need a rival cartel card for bait.”

“You’ve been playin’ with sharks in the Bay too long, amigo,” Jess said, staring at me, while hoping I hadn’t lost my mind. “Give it to us plain and simple, John.”

“I like Dev’s idea of a gangland Godfather presence. I’m thinking we have three experts in Cartel business who could put a sting in place we could really bust this wide open with quickly.”

“The minions! Damn… that is pure genius. Those guys would kill each other in hopes of getting the Godfather role.” Dev paused for a second. “It has to be Gus. He can out quick his two buddies with adlibs easily, and this role may require some big adlibs. Jess and I will be part of his gang, of course. We need a long range player, and two more short range specialists. I’m thinking Lucas and Casey would cut us all up if we aced them out of a role like this.”

“You’re thinkin’ Chicago bad news bears fronting for a Cartel,” Jess stated. “We strut around in thousand dollar suits with hats and the whole enchilada! I like it. We can do this! God knows what lowlife pukes we can get to bite on the lure.”

“You guys are nuts,” Lora said, sitting down with us and Al, who was hanging on every word as if it were a raft in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. “Keep Flo with you until the police handle this neighborhood invasion.”

Dev and Jess laughed like hell at that declaration before they noticed Lora wasn’t smiling. Jess stared right at me. “You never told her, did you?”

I knew right away what he was talking about, but I had never saw fit to pass that particular info onto my wife. “It never came up in conversation until now, Jess. Gee… thank you for that gem.”

“What?” Jess went into his all innocent persona, shaking his head in forlorn fashion, while lowering his head, and placing his hands palm down on the table. Of course he had to lay his fork down too, which I’m sure didn’t appeal to him. He soldiered on. “You can’t blame me because you kept relevant facts about your neighborhood from your lovely wife.”

“Yeah… I can.” It was too late for any of that, as I noticed the down at the mouth look I was getting from my wife. Damn, it seemed like only days ago she was okay about everything from my past and present. This is what happens when too much leeway is given - too much more gets assumed by force of will: her will.

“Please explain it to me, Jess,” Lora said, with invisible claws out, and verbal fangs ready to maim and dismember. “I don’t think I have heard about those adventures.”

Dev was shaking his head virulently at our less astute brother in arms. Jess looked like a wolf caught in a bear trap.

“Go on, Jess. It’s a small thing. You’re right. It is my fault for not reciting the odd history of my surrounding neighborhood. Please fill Lora in on all the details.”

“Yeah, Uncle Jess!” Al pipes in on the conversation she shouldn’t have been around to hear about anyway.

“Uh… well… you know… John’s street had a bad element in it. You remember when your sister was working with that law firm here, there were a lot of break-ins, and the gangs drifted around these neighborhoods like they owned them. Then John moves into his house, and suddenly the sun came out, the birds sang, and the sky was blue. Good Karma, I guess.”

Okay, that was funny. Even Al was laughing. Not Lora, but who knows why she latches onto anything these days. My beloved wife has always spouted the right words about understanding my lifestyle, but I believe there’s always been a disconnect waiting to surface. Apparently, the warning gong went off, and I didn’t pay attention to it. Al saw her Mom’s face and stopped enjoying Jess’s very entertaining explanation.

“I hear what you’re saying now, Jess,” Lora stated with precise wording. “In other words, the landfills around the area became thug burial grounds. My sister mentioned something about a pimp she represented who gutted her cat, while making advances on her. She told me the pimp was found a couple weeks later, after she hired John through Tommy to protect her, in a dump on 12
th
Street. It’s amazing how this Karma thing works.”

Dev was starting to get a little grim about Lora’s sarcastic angle. “Yeah… I heard about that. Your sister’s still alive, and pregnant with the first child to be calling you Aunt Lora, huh? I guess that Karma thing ought to be left alone to do its work in peace, Boss.”

Oh my, that was good. Lora’s face went from sarcastically evil to a ‘good Lord in heaven, what the hell am I doing in a split second. She stood, went around, and hugged Dev. “Thanks, Dev. Some thing in my brain has snapped. All my prior protestations about understanding John’s endeavors have become ranting crap, criticizing him. I’m going to go do something useful like laundry.”