Mirror Image

by Ice-T

  When Al opened the file, it took up the whole screen and had columns that showed how many views what files were getting in real time. It also showed what news outlets were viewing it. The social network sites reacted first; it was initially slow, but a half hour later, it started picking up speed. An hour after that, it was on fire with over twenty-one thousand views. But so far, only two out of the twenty news sites had picked it up, which caused Casey a bit of concern. It was only 1:30 P.M., however, and he figured things should really pick up around 2 P.M.

  Champa and the doc had moved Jacob back into the bedroom; then the doc left. He said that there was nothing left for him to do, and that Jacob should be noticeably better very soon. Case broke him off a G and made sure he understood to keep his trap shut about what he’d seen and heard or suffer the consequences.

  After the doc left, Casey went back to monitoring things with Al P. The general dialogue they heard from the cops was that they couldn’t find any of Casey’s crew. On one call Casey listened to, he heard Fordham connect the dots and say that it seemed too coincidental that all these guys had disappeared at the same time. Because Petrosian no longer rocked a cell phone, Fordham had his guys looking for him as well.

  A little after 2 P.M., just as Jacob had predicted, all hell broke loose. All the news sites had reviewed the material multiple times, and the cumulative views of the videos skyrocketed to well over a million. A half hour later, news Web sites started running stories about the videos, and then it broke on CNN. Casey, Champa, and Al sat transfixed in front of the TV as the network reported on the treasure trove of police corruption that had been released anonymously on the Internet:

  “Good afternoon, this is Wilson Koster, with today’s top stories. Eighteen shocking videos were released over the Internet earlier today, detailing widespread corruption in the New York City Police Department, mostly in the Organized Crime Control Bureau. The videos contained taped phone conversations and video of detectives bragging about their own criminal activity. The crimes they inadvertently confessed to range from ticket fixing, narcotic trafficking, and, in two cases, the murder of two people. Mentioned by name in some of these illegal dealings is Chief Sergeant John Fordham, currently in charge of the OCCB. So far, the mayor’s office and the chief of police have declined to say anything except that these matters are currently under investigation. We’re going to play some of the videos right now, but warn you that the language and some of the images can be quite harsh and disturbing. Also, please note we are still looking into the validity of these videos, but from what we can tell so far, they are legitimate, in several cases taken from the officers’ own in-car cameras.”

  The network played three videos with commentary interspersed between each one. The first was of two detectives talking about killing a drug dealer and his girlfriend in Queens, the next was of Fordham talking about getting payoffs and framing Lomax, and the last one was of the two cops beating and Tasering a black kid they’d picked up. Casey stared at the screen with a satisfied smile. Fuck you muthafucka, payback’s a bitch!

  The guys channel-surfed other twenty-four-hour news networks that were covering the story as well. Casey had Al pull up the screen that tracked the locations of the detectives; they were all at Puzzle Towers. With that, he breathed a sigh of relief; he had those muthafuckas on the run.

  Casey turned around and saw Jacob gingerly exit his room with a robe and slippers on. He looked a lot better, which wasn’t saying much.

  “You operational, man?”

  “Yeah, barely.” Jacob scratched his head as he noticed the news reports. “Do I remember correctly that you launched everything?”

  “Take a look,” Casey said as he pointed to the TV.

  Jacob took a closer look at the TV and the computer screen and examined the stats.

  “Whoa, this shit is taking off. We’re trending huge on every network.” Jacob motioned for Al to get up and got into his seat and started typing like mad. While Jacob got back in play, Casey called Shin.

  “Shin, you been watching the news?”

  “Yeah, insanely great, right? I told the guys to tune in but not to brag on the shit. ‘Our anonymity is the only way we can keep breathin’.’”

  “Good man, now hit up Sean E Sean and get a progress report.”

  “Did that. He’s got the cars, badges, and lights. Three of the cars are tan, and one of ’em’s white.”

  “Okay, bet. All the guys are cool, right?”

  “Yeah, everyone’s on deck.”

  Casey hung up and watched all the action unwind. At 6:30 P.M., the mayor and chief of police gave a press conference that was carried live on every network. Casey wished Mack D knew about this shit—he’d be laughing his ass off. Both the mayor and the police chief had serious looks on their faces. The mayor stepped to the podium first.

  “Today a series of videos were released that show illegal behavior and recorded conversations about criminal activities by some detectives in the Organized Crime Control Bureau. This is extremely troubling, and I fully support the police chief as he launches a detailed investigation into these matters. This is something that I take very seriously, as does the police chief, and we will not rest until it is resolved.”

  Then the mayor turned the mic over to the police chief.

  “As the mayor said, I have an investigation under way, and will personally see to it that justice is served. The New York City Police Department has men and women who do a great job for the city, and I think it’s important that we all remember that, and not let the actions of a few taint the hard work and efforts of the majority of police officers. Those personnel in question have been put on immediate leave until the incidents of lawbreaking and misconduct can be fully investigated.”

  After their speeches, the mayor and police chief were asked a ton of questions by the rabid press pool.

  “Do you know who submitted the videos and audio recordings, Mr. Mayor?”

  “No, I do not, but it should be noted that what they did was illegal, and if caught, they will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”

  “Chief, how many officers have been put on mandatory leave?”

  “In total, nineteen.”

  At this point, the mayor’s press secretary stepped in and said there would be no more questions.

  Casey told Jacob to turn down the volume of the TV and addressed the room. “Champa, find a handyman to fix this door ASAP. Al, I want you to stay here and monitor this shit for the next twenty-four hours with Jacob.”

  Before Casey left, he told Champa to have the guys meet him at the office at 8 P.M. for a final briefing.

  19

  When Casey walked into the room, all the guys rose and applauded. Everyone had shit-eatin’ grins on and wanted to give props to the brotha who’d put the pigs on blast like no one had ever done or was able to do. Everyone in the hood was talking about how “the man” had been checkmated. It was the first time since the Rodney King scandal that someone had put the cops on front street, and it was sweet.

  Casey sat at the head of the table and began to speak. “I appreciate that, guys. Pullin’ that shit off took a lotta work and a bit a chedda, but as you can see, it paid off.”

  “Hell yeah, it did!” Mick said, making the rest of the room laugh.

  “I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep it up, but I can tell you that this high-tech shit is our future, and that ain’t no joke. I gotta give major props to Champa and Shin—no man’s a one-man show, and I’m no different.”

  All the men around the table nodded and looked at the other guys, giving them props. Then Casey got down to business and laid out the master plan for tomorrow’s heist. At the end of it, he dropped his bomb: “After we stash the cars, we can definitely expect gunplay.”

  The whole room was taken aback. Everyone stared at Casey for a second; then they all started asking questions. Casey stayed silent, waiting for everyone to chill out, then broke down the conversation he’d heard
between Fordham and Petrosian. “Now that Fordham’s in the mix, that may negate the possibility of drama, but I ain’t betting on that. I suggest we posse up to make sure it’s an unfair fight. We will need to be covert because we don’t want to draw attention.”

  Casey turned to Mick, who was stroking his goatee, deep in thought. Mick had the most muscle out of everyone in the crew because of the business he was in. He even had a few brothas that were ex-military.

  “Mick, you got eight guys that can be on building tops and on the ground patrolling shit on the DL?”

  “Without a doubt, I can have them scout it out tonight and get them posted up at first light,” Mick said.

  “I got a question, Case,” Hen Gee said. “I’m looking at this whole thing from ten thousand feet up, and somethin’ ain’t sittin’ right.”

  “Speak on it.”

  “Well, Petrosian ain’t known for boostin’, just slangin’ shit and importin’ girls, right? So why he doin’ this all of a sudden? Just hear me out—he’s already gettin’ broke off about what he’d make, so why’d he try shit now? I mean, why risk getting himself and his crew shot? Why inherit the extra headache of selling and transporting the cars? It don’t make sense.”

  The same thing had been gnawing at Casey as well, but as he listened to Hen Gee, a lightbulb went off in his head. “I’m onna same page, till now I didn’t get it, either. I think this is about a lot more than just cars.”

  Big Rich read Casey’s mind and blurted out, “This muthafucka’s smugglin’ dope in these rides!”

  Casey nodded. “Yup, Mariano or somebody close to him has to be part of this as well. My guess is Alek’s got someone in customs turning a blind eye. Maybe that’s how Fordham is tied into all of this.”

  Casey’s phone vibrated with a text message from Jacob, asking him to get back to him ASAP. “I want you guys to chop this up more, I got to talk to my intel man real quick.”

  Casey hustled down the hall and went into his office and initiated a video chat. Jacob popped up on the screen with Al P. in the background.

  Al spoke first. “Crush, we noticed the phones weren’t movin’ anymore. We went and looked at the transcripts of what was goin’ down. On top of the police chief losing his shit with those guys, he also had ’em turn in their badges, service revolvers, and phones!”

  Casey sat back in his chair, stared at the screen, and digested this new information. In case there was any doubt, Jacob spelled it out. “Crush, we’re blind to what these cats are doin’ and sayin’.”

  The playing field was now level and the odds were even. This news was a mind fuck. In the past, Casey’d never known what the pigs were doin’, but he’d quickly got used to knowin’ everything and bein’ able to plan accordingly. Now that that advantage was gone, he felt totally fucked.

  Casey rocked back and forth in his office chair, thinking. “We got Fordham and everyone else’s address, right?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are there any cameras in Fordham’s area we can tap into?”

  Jacob started typing. “There’s a camera in his garage … lobby … across the street in a laundrymat and … in the Sub King restaurant. Let me see if I can get access for his two building cameras.”

  “Al, I want you to go to his building and try and hijack his personal phone.”

  Al’s head jerked back in surprise and he was about to protest before Casey cut him off. “Don’t go pussy on me right now, Al. All I need you to do is go to his building, stand outside his apartment, and jack into his phone. With any luck, maybe some of his guys’ll be there, and you can hijack their personal cells also.”

  “Casey, goddamn! I done everythin’ you asked me to, and now you got me puttin’ my head right in the muthafuckin’ lion’s mouth!” Al paced in the background, panic on his face. “I’m not like you and Champa, man. I don’t do that balls-to-the-wall, high-wire shit for a livin’! What if he’s got a doorman? How am I gonna get in? What if he comes out and catches me? I mean that muthafucka’s gotta be stressed out, he’ll kill a nigga in a second if he thinks he’s being played. I can’t do it man, it’s too big of a—”

  “Goddamnit, quit crying like a fuckin’ stuck pig! When I tell you to do something, you fuckin’ do it! Use your head, for Christ sakes! get fuckin’ creative! I don’t care how the fuck you do it, just get—it—done!”

  Casey could tell both guys on the other end were scared shitless when he let go his fury. Casey knew Al had a point; sure, it was risky, but he hated excuses and defeatists. He also understood he needed to keep a cool head, or nothing would go according to plan. In fact, things would probably just get more chaotic. Composing himself, he went into crime mode to work the problem.

  “Okay, this is what you’ll do. Order some sandwiches for pickup from the Sub King. Then cross the street and tell the doorman you’re making a delivery to Fordham’s apartment. When you get to his floor, try and tag him up. If he comes out, pretend you’re looking for the apartment next to his. After you lock in his phones, toss the sandwiches down the trash chute and get the fuck out of there.”

  Al sat and digested what Casey said before he responded. “Okay, that’s a good plan, but what if—?”

  “Just figure it out, Al—I gave you the plan, now it’s on you. Don’t fucking blow it. Oh, and after you’re done, get back to Jacob’s, I’ma need you there for the next twenty-four hours. Jacob, make sure you get him up to speed on your tech. In case you have a relapse, I need someone that can step into your shoes already on deck. Shin’ll be there in ten minutes to take you to Fordham’s, Al, so be waitin’ out front.”

  Casey closed the lid of his computer so he wouldn’t have to hear any more of Al’s whining. Sending him in like that was precarious, but it was a card that needed to be played. Seeing him almost go to pieces didn’t inspire a lot of confidence, and Casey didn’t want him taking on this mission in a half-assed kind of way.

  He texted Shin to come to his office. When his captain arrived, Casey laid out the situation and said that he needed him to make sure Al delivered. Unlike Al, Shin was gung ho. He also said that if for some reason Al was caught, it would be on Shin to handle the loose ends.

  “I need some edification on ‘handle the loose ends,’ Crush.”

  “By no means can Al be arrested or taken in. If that happens, he’ll be interrogated, and we can’t trust that he wouldn’t spill the beans. That guy tends to get jumpy, and when he does, he runs off at the mouth. Do you know what I’m saying?”

  “Okay … wow.”

  “Shin, if he spills the beans, we all go down. He’s not like you or Champa, he’s an independent contractor. He’s not loyal to the crew, and I cannot have any loose ends that might sink this ship.”

  “I hear ya, Crush, but I know he’ll hold his water. I’ve been hanging with the dude through all this, and he respects and fears you. I know he wouldn’t cross you—us, like that. Look, you the boss, and what you say goes. I just wanted to put that out there.”

  Casey respected Shin for speaking his mind. He didn’t want any puppets or yes-men in his crew. In hindsight, he recognized that Rono was that type of cat who would always say yes and agree to everything while secretly talkin’ shit out of earshot and simultaneously plotting to stab him in the back. Casey took a deep breath and let it out. He could either dominate or empower Shin; he chose the latter.

  “Okay, Shin. It’s your call. It’s on your shoulders.”

  “Cool, I’ll take his temperature as we drive there, and if I think he ain’t truly down or if shit goes south, I’ll do what needs to be done.”

  “Okay, move out, and call me on the burner after it’s done.”

  The men bumped fists, and as Casey walked back to the conference room, he got another text, this one from Carla:

  They offered me the gig in Miami. I need a change of scenery, so I’m taking it. Please give me my space. Don’t make this harder than it already is. xoCarla.

  Casey felt his stomach tighten as
he read the text. Carla wasn’t the type to play games; this wasn’t a ploy to get attention, this was her saying good-bye, at least for a while. He didn’t want to accept it, but he knew he was a hard sell under the best of circumstances. This time tomorrow, he could either be in jail or dead. He didn’t regret getting involved with Carla; he just wished it could have worked out. Crime was his life, and like Mick’s brother-in-law, he couldn’t shake his addiction, no matter what the cost.

  Casey slipped his cell in his pocket as he rose to walk into the conference room and let everyone know the latest development and his plan to deal with it. The news made a lot of the guys uneasy, and he reminded them that up until now this was the only time they’d ever had this type of intel. In the past, they’d always taken calculated risks and operated blind.

  Sean E Sean sat back in his seat, pulled out the natty chew-stick from his mouth, and addressed everyone. “If shit goes down, then so be it. We all know how the game is played. Right now, my only concern is the rides—if they get shot up, there goes the loot from the Chinaman!”

  “That’s a good point, which is why Petrosian has to be handled when the trucks get to the warehouse, before the cars are unloaded,” Casey said as he turned to Mick. “Mick, I’ma need your shooters to pop them from the rooftops military-style. Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all, my cats can do it quick and easy. I’ll just need to get them the descriptions.”

  “Okay, cool. I realize the degree of difficulty has just been raised on this gig, so if anyone’s lookin’ to back out, now’s the time to speak up.”

  Casey looked at everyone’s faces; none of the guys seemed anything but stone-cold confident.

  “Okay, cool, then back to business. Everyone needs to meet at the warehouse at five A.M. tomorrow. Champa, I’ma need you to pick me up at my crib so I can roll with you. Mick, Hen, and E, go to Sean’s spot and y’all drive the cars to the warehouse. From there, we’ll bail out. Any questions?”