“It’s all done. Everything went smooth at the train. The vans are cleaned and turned in. I’m down the street from Fast Eddie’s and it’s quiet. I didn’t see no po-po, and no clean-up crew when I drove by.”
“That’s good. Don’t go back by. If there is a professional clean-up crew or a fixer, you won’t see him, but he’ll sure as hell notice you going by the second time. Once is already too many, twice could get you killed. In fact, drive out of the whole area right now.”
“You’re serious? Do you think they would notice me going by?”
“I would. Also, I wouldn’t leave it to chance that you were working alone. I’d follow you. So please, don’t go near that place. Tell Nikky the same thing. I should’ve thought about it before because this is the kind of mistake that can get us all killed,” she said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be a problem.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure we’re all good. Most likely it’s what it looks like. Nobody’s been there yet to see nothing. But no use taking extra chances. We’ll learn soon enough if the po-po find out. Where the po-po go, the news follows.”
“Where are you?” G-Baby asked.
“Still on the freeway, about twenty minutes outside of Houston. I need you to meet me at the car wash to clean this van so we can get rid of it. I should be there in forty-five minutes.”
“Not a problem, I’ll be waiting for you when you get there.
She had been waiting for the information about the women making the train. It was time to make one last critical call.
“Hello, Miss Angelique,” Mr. Jones answered his phone.
“They’re on the way. They’ll pull into New Orleans early this evening.”
“How many?”
“Twenty-eight, plus one of mine. She’s also Russian. She’ll help for a few weeks until your people can sort things out.”
“Any problems I need to know about?” he asked.
“Two. A woman named, Motka was Fast Eddie’s China Doll. She isn’t much liked by the girls. You’ll probably want to watch for trouble from her.”
“Okay, and the other?” he asked.
“The natural leader is a woman named Alana. She stayed in Houston to take care of her little sister. The sister can’t travel because Fast Eddie beat her real bad. We took them to a safe place. The woman I have with them thinks they can come to you in a month. The little one won’t be ready to work, but they should be able to travel.”
“Can I keep your woman to help out until this Miss Alana arrives?”
“She earns three-hundred a day. She keeps two, one-hundred comes to me. You fly her home when she’s done,” Michelle replied.
“Agreed. What of our mutual friend?” Mr. Jones asked.
“Nothing yet. I expect to have something by tomorrow. The day after that at the latest. The deal with Fast Eddie was on the scanner a short while ago. It should make the Six o’clock News this evening.”
Michelle had handed Mr. Jones a gold mine. She’d delivered twenty eight beautiful professional prostitutes with two more on the way. No strings attached other than treat them well. Jones was a bad man to owe and a great man to have in your debt. Michelle had paid off her debt to him and a lot more.
Twenty-Eight: Big Baller’s Back
MICHELLE CAME IN from working out. “Hey, girl. Anything going on?” She pulled a bottle of water out of the refrigerator.
Nikky sat at the desk, legs kicked up on the corner, an open notepad on her lap. Nikky had stayed in the small apartment while Michelle went to work out at the gym. They had agreed someone would always be on duty to monitor the audio feed from Ascia’s office. While it was possible to do other things by using ear-buds to listen, it wasn’t a good idea. Invariably things were lost. It was a lot easier to stay focused on the task by sitting quietly at the desk without distractions.
“They’re back,” Nikky said.
“They’re back? When?”
“About an hour ago. I heard them come in.”
“Is Ascia there?”
“Yup, and he’s being tough on everyone.”
Michelle pulled a chair up to the desk and read over Nikky’s notes. “Is he still in the apartment?”
“I think he’s sleeping. He said he was jet-lagged.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if we could cap his ass while he slept? Nice dream, but it’s too secure in there. We can’t get to him in his apartment. And I don’t have a shot from the outside because he has everything either blacked out or the view is blocked. But, now that he’s back we’ll find a way.”
“Good. I’m glad the waiting will be over soon,” Nikky said. “With Ascia back, I was wondering if it would be helpful to have G-Baby here. He wasn’t any too happy about leaving.”
“It’s a real problem for me. I love him. He was the one saved me when Michael was killed. And he took care of me even when he had been hit hard with Gabe Jr.’s murder. He has as much reason to be here as I do, and more than you.”
“But, you still sent him home,” Nikky said.
“Yeah, he has as much heart as anyone, more than most. But he’s OG from the streets. That’s all about being strong, moving fast, don’t be afraid to face the other guy and pull the trigger. Nobody can be more than him that way. But against a guy like Ascia, who is a long time professional and surrounded by professionals, Uncle G’s an amateur. He makes dangerous mistakes that could end with one or more of us killed. I can’t possibly think of everything ahead of time to keep us all safe.”
“It all worked out when we got Fast Eddie, right?”
“Some mistakes were made. If a professional had been there, it probably would be different now,” Michelle said.
“What kind of mistakes?”
“Doesn’t matter. But the stakes were raised when we took out Fast Eddie and stole the Russians. You can bet Ascia will bring in a few top guys. He’ll go proactive and try to take us out. That means Uncle G would be even more dangerous to have here.”
“What about me? I’m as much an amateur as G-Baby.” Nikky said.
“Yeah, and I’m worried about that too. But I think it’s different. You don’t have long time habits that’ll make you as dangerous. It’s hard to explain. It’s like a pro who plays real good guitar. It’s hard for him to go all the way back to the beginning for a new player. The pro can’t easily go back to the beginner’s mind because there are so many things that have become second nature for the pro. But as hard as it is, it’s easier than trying to figure out what an intermediate player knows and doesn’t know as well as fix bad habits. See, the pro can’t tell if the intermediate player is talented or just skilled with what he has learned over time. Does that make sense?” Michelle asked.
“You’re saying you only want to worry about one amateur at a time?” Nikky asked with a smile.
“Yeah I guess. What’s in the fridge to eat?” Michelle asked, changing the subject.
“Mother Hubbard time. That cupboard is bare,” Nikky replied.
“I’ll take over on the radio so you can go out for a few minutes. How does Mexican Food sound?” Michelle asked.
“Mexican sounds good. Being out for a bit sounds better. I’m going a little buggy cooped up all day.”
The door closed behind Nikky. Michelle turned the deadbolt and returned to the radio. She sat at the little table staring off at nothing; thinking. She didn’t want to bring G-Baby back. The risk was too high. Nikky was right about her being just as much an amateur as her Uncle G.
She sat, mentally tumbling the details and possible scenarios over and over. Since Ascia knew she was after him, she needed help. If not in the field as a shooter, she certainly needed help on the radios. This time her target knew about and was prepared for her hit. This time, everything had to be doubly, triply careful, well planned, and precise.
Thoughts still tumbled through her head with no hope of resolution when the deadbolt on the door clicked and Nikky returned with their dinner.
; “That was quick.” Michelle said, getting up to help with the bags.
“Almost an hour,” Nikky said. “Waiting in the drive thru line it felt longer.”
“Thanks for picking up dinner. It’s pretty good for a take-out joint,” Michelle said.
“Sure. It felt good to be out for a moment even if most of it was sitting in line. I’m still a little stir-crazy. Do you mind if I go out for an evening workout at the gym?” Nikky asked.
“Not a problem. Give me some quiet time to think.”
With years of being in each other’s homes while growing up, Michelle and Nikky made an easy team with the household chores.
After dinner, they picked up the plates and leftovers together, Michelle stacked and set the dishwasher, Nikky took out the trash.
“I’m off to the gym,” Nikky said. “Want me to bring anything back?”
“Just yourself,” Michelle said.
Twenty-Nine: Caught!
NIKKY NOTICED THE GAS GAUGE showed a little under half a tank. She pulled into a large Shell station to fill up.
The numbers on the pump quickly ran up while she leaned against her rented white Toyota. Letting her mind wander, she remembered how, not too long ago, she would have waited until her little Honda would be on empty before she stopped for gas. Filling up the tank was an expense she often worried about. Her life was remarkably different now. She was concerned about the Russian women they put on the train. She worried about Deja taking care of the girls back home. She wondered how they would get to that bastard Ascia. But, she didn’t worry about buying gas.
Located on a corner lot, the convenience store gas station combination had two rows of pumps on the front and on the side. Nikky pulled into the outside row at the end of the building. She used the credit card Michelle gave her with a fake name to start the pump and waited while her tank filled. She moved to the front of the car to get away from the gas fumes and stood idly thinking about what they would do now that Ascia was back, how good it had felt to work out at the gym and how good the night air felt on her freshly showered skin.
A Ford Explorer pulled into the inside row of pumps. It parked between Nikky and the convenience store. The driver of the Explorer hopped out and went inside the store.
The nozzle thunked and shut off. When she stepped back to take the nozzle out of her car, a hand clamped over her mouth, she was pulled back hard against a man’s body and a gun jabbed hard into her side. “Don’t make no noise,” man’s voice said into her ear.
Nikky jumped, but he had her pinned against the car. He drove the barrel of his gun deep into her side.
“One more move and you’re dead.”
She stopped struggling.
“Now, bitch, we’re gonna walk over to my car.” He moved her away from her car toward the end of the convenience store toward a black Lincoln.
Nikky jumped and jerked, again he held on. In the blink of an eye he slammed the back of her head with the side of the barrel of his gun. Nikky’s vision blurred and she stumbled. The man pulled her in close, supporting her weight for a few seconds.
Keeping his hand over her mouth, he muscled her into the back of the car. Inside, he leveled the 9mm at her face. “You’re mine now.”
They sat in opposite corners of the large back seat of the Lincoln, breathing hard and watching each other like two cats ready to pounce. After a couple minutes, he pulled out his phone, “Sup, man. I need you to come help me at the Shell on the corner of Elm, down the street from H&H Pawn. Yeah, that one. Get here fast. I got a bitch in the back seat don’t want to enjoy my company. She’s one of them that took out Fast Eddie and we need to take her to Ascia. We’re in my Lincoln parked on the side.”
Nikky stared at the man. She recognized him from the drawing. This asshole was Jack-Move.
“Hot damn, this is gonna be fun,” he said. “You don’t even know who’s got your ass. You’re gonna know real good by the time this all be over. Maybe after Ascia is done wit’ you I’ll turn you out to work for me. If you live that long.”
Nikky didn’t say anything.
“Don’t you want to know who’s gonna be yo’ daddy from now on?” he asked.
Nikky remained quiet, watching, eyes flashing anger.
“Mmmm, ummm, ummm, you got a lot of fight in you. I’m gonna enjoy working you over. You’ll be begging me to fuck you before we’re done. What do you say about that?”
Nikky didn’t respond.
“We’ll see how that silent shit works. You’re lucky Ascia will want to see you now. It’s you and that bitch Michelle’s fault I ain’t got no stable. Since I ain’t got no women I’ll have lots of time to play wit’ you. We’re gonna have fun.”
A man in an oversize shirt and low-slung jeans walked up to the car. He tapped on the window behind Jack-Move. Jack-Move opened the window to look out at the man. When Jack-Move’s attention was on the man at the window Nikky moved. The door flew open and Nikky catapulted out the side of the car. Scrambling backward on her ass, she almost escaped.
Jack-Move launched himself across the backseat of the Lincoln, arms outstretched. A lucky grab caught one foot. Nikky kicked his hand. He held on. She kicked a second time and broke his grip. Springing away she was still on her backside. She almost got away a second time.
In the few seconds Jack-Move had a hold on Nikky’s foot, the other man ran around the car. After breaking free, but before she was able to flip over and run, he kicked her in the head. The two men quickly muscled a weakly struggling Nikky back into the car.
Inside, Jack-Move hit Nikky in the face with his fist. She blinked unfocused eyes. He hit her in the face again. “You’re gonna learn who the muthafuckin boss is.” He hit her one more time, splitting her lip. Barely conscious and completely out of the fight she sagged against the corner of the seat and door.
The man slid into the driver’s seat. “Lucky nobody saw that shit. Now what?”
“Move her car off the pumps. It’s that white Toyota.” He pointed to her car with the gas nozzle still stuck in the filler tube. “Then you gotta drive while I keep this bitch covered.”
Nikky’s eyes watered as her vision cleared. She squinted one eye against a horrific stabbing pain in the side of her head. Jack-Move grinned, but didn’t say anything. They stayed like that for less than a minute when the other man opened the driver’s door and climbed in. Nikky couldn’t remember him leaving. It didn’t matter, he was there now.
The man turned around to look at Jack-Move. “Where to?”
“I need to take her to Ascia’s,” Jack-Move said. “But we need to make a stop at my place first. I think this bitch needs a little lesson in good manners before we take her to see the boss.”
Thirty: Oh Sweet Jesus, No!
IT WAS THE CALM before the storm. Things would be busy, probably too busy, soon enough.
Michelle’s earlier workout had been wonderfully strenuous. The following shower felt great as well. She missed the gym at home and practicing her Muay Thai and other martial arts skills. She couldn’t afford to show up at a dojo in Houston where she would stand out as the only Black woman. But in a regular gym, she was only one more gym rat.
She worked on her hair as she absently listened to the audio feed from Ascia’s. She sat working in moisturizing cream hair dress with olive oil as she braided. Working on her hair had always been relaxing. It gave her something to do with her hands and allowed her mind to wander. At the moment her mind wandered for the hundredth time to question if she had done the right thing in sending G-Baby home?
There had been no way around either hurting his feelings or being concerned about it. She knew he would continue to make the kind of mistakes men made. Their courage almost always won over caution. She understood the whole guy thing and why they had to show who had the biggest dick. But, in this case, that deeply wired way of responding could get him and her killed. This was not a time for bravado. No, this situation required finesse.
She still had Nikky, who was a h
uge liability with her almost total lack of training. At least Nikky was a woman. Women tended to have more patience than men. As a woman, Nikky wasn’t particularly patient, but she was naturally thoughtful in a careful and evaluating way. Was Nikky truly safer, or was that a rationalization? Would she see the benefit of inaction before blundering into a confrontation?
“Damn girl. Stop thinking on this shit. Worrying about it won’t fix a damned thing. Focus on how you’re going to kill Ascia,” Michelle said out loud to the empty room.
The radio receiver had been quiet for a while when the sounds of someone entering the room came through. Two men started talking. A familiar voice and one she hadn’t heard before.
“Freddy, go get Mr. Ascia. He’s gonna want to see this right now,” the new voice said.
“Yeah? He’s already gone to bed. What’s so special about her I should get him out of bed?” Freddy said.
“Christ, Freddy, just do it. This is fucking important,” the new voice said.
“Nope. Not happening,” Freddy said.
“Then you watch her and I’ll go,” the new voice said.
“That ain’t happening either. Jack-Move, you ain’t ever going inside,” Freddy said.
Michelle bolted upright.
Jack-Move?
Wide awake and alert, Michelle focused on the conversation.
“Fuck you Freddy, this is important. I’m telling you he’ll want to know about this right now,” the new voice, Jack-Move, said.
“Convince me,” Freddy said.
“This bitch is Nikky. She’s number two to Michelle Angelique.”
Michelle sprung out of her chair, ran to the radio receiver and turned it up loud. “What?!”
“What does that mean to me?”
“Jesus Freddy, Michelle Angelique. You know, the one Mr. Ascia sent me out to L.A. to squeeze out.”
“Oh yeah, the chick that busted your ass and sent you back with your dick in your hand. Yeah, I heard about that.”
“Alright, wise guy, did you know she was also Mr. Ascia’s number one outside contractor?”
Hard Win (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Series 3) Page 17