by T. C. Clover
looked the three gang members over for a moment and then gave an abrupt nod.
“Hector wants you to come back and answer some questions.” The alpha instructed with a demeanor of dominance. “Let’s go.”
“Don’t you want your video?” CKB suggested with a sarcastic smirk. “It’s right over there.” He pointed to a section of the floor next to a gray garbage can at something black and shiny.
The alpha jutted his chin upward to the other gang members, and they walked toward the garbage can to his right. When one of the men bent down to pick up the object, CKB pulled on something invisible to the eye. The black device shot out of the gang member's fingers and dragged across the floor toward the television star. CKB turned and ran behind one of the support pillars on the platform with the device trailing behind him, attached to a thin fishing line.
“Get back here!” The alpha gang member shouted and reached for a pistol under his jacket, but thought better of it when he noticed the thick rows of bystanders.
CKB retrieved a black pistol from under his white sweater and fired at his pursuers, but the non-lethal pellets of pepper spray jammed in the chamber. He began to sprint and tried the weapon several more times, but it was useless. His heart was fluttering when he heard the danger on his heels. The criminal wasn't sure if he could outrun the younger men.
He felt the fishing line tighten in his right hand, catching on something solid that snapped it a moment later. CKB noticed that one of the men circled back to pick up the black object, but the other two were gaining ground on him. There was an escalator coming up with a line of at least a dozen subway patrons in his path. He turned and pointed the weapon at his pursuers, which caused them to stop and take cover.
The savvy criminal then barreled his way through the crowd and down the escalator, shoving past anyone in his path. CKB tossed the weapon aside when he got to the next platform and took a moment to catch his breath next to an empty train. After a short break, he gathered his wits and began to amble in a casual fashion across the concrete.
The Templars followed close behind him and were quick to catch up. CKB turned to see the alpha approaching him with a wicked gaze, and he used his right fist to deliver a stunning punch to the gangster’s gut. The wounded man's gang companion reached for a pistol beneath his leather coat and drew it out to take aim at Cody's chest.
However, the gangster failed to notice a group of police officers to his left, descending the stairs with their guns drawn. CKB pointed to the officers with his left index finger and the gangster’s mouth opened in shock. He tossed his weapon aside and put his hands behind his head to surrender.
“We need to question this one,” Stoney explained as he led the pack of ten officers to where the alpha and CKB were standing. “Let’s get him on the train,” he suggested, and grabbed the gangster by his collar to guide him into the empty rail cars.
“Sorry, I think there were reports of a black man in a Templars’ jacket setting fires in the subway earlier,” CKB explained to the alpha gangster. “Politicians get really nervous when transportation is threatened, and the next thing you know, there are cops everywhere.”
When the men were inside of the empty train, Stoney forced the gangster to sit down on the far passenger bench. CKB frisked the man with flippant authority, removing his satellite phone and pistol. He then handed the weapon to Stoney and sat on the passenger seat opposite the gang lieutenant to enjoy the show.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” Stoney began in a tone of reason. “This is a copy of the video that Cody took of Hector to humiliate him. I’m giving it to you.” He placed a small memory drive in the gangster’s right hand and then stood up straight. “We swear on our honor as men that this video will never be uploaded to the Internet. Hector’s reputation is safe, and we can end this thing right here. Or you can go to jail with your buddy.”
“How does Hector know that you got rid of all the copies?” The alpha gangster questioned with a hard look from his brown eyes.
“He doesn’t,” CKB interrupted from a standing position and punched Stoney with ferocious energy in the right side of the jaw. “You can still get out if you run that way. Go through two train cars and up the stairs to the left,” he added, and gave the satellite phone back to the gangster.
The alpha watched CKB with interest, but when he saw police officers scrambling toward the train in the background, the man became light on his feet. He jumped up and ran through the train cars as instructed. Cody stood up with a smile and watched the gangster disappear out of the train, across the platform and up an unguarded set of stairs.
“What the hell are you doing?” Stoney shouted as he stood up and pointed the pistol at his co-star’s head. “You let him get away before I could resolve anything.”
CKB put his hands on his head and sat back down on the opposite side of the train.
“Are you okay?” Another officer inquired as he stuck his head through the sliding train doors.
“I’m fine,” the Japanese man confirmed with agitation, “just go after him and bring him back. I’ve got this under control.”
“Okay, well the transit authority needs to get this train back in service,” the other officer said with a suspicious expression. “The captain wants this platform clear and back up in a few minutes.”
Stoney gave his fellow officer a fierce look and gestured with his chin for the man to depart.
“Why did you do that?” He asked CKB through gritted teeth with the gun pointed at his co-star's forehead.
“I used his phone to upload the video,” CKB confessed and lowered his eyes toward the floor of the train.
“Are you stupid? Are you trying to get me killed?” The police officer roared, feeling the pistol shaking in his right hand.
“No, but you are,” the criminal said with a disappointed glance at Stoney and leaned back on the seat, folding his arms. “I uploaded it using his video channel, from his device.”
Stoney stared at the floor for a moment and allowed the rage to subside long enough for him to think. He inspected his blue police uniform as though it would provide him with the answer, and then started to laugh.
“Yeah, that’s right,” his companion confirmed with satisfaction. “I uploaded it with his video channel from his phone. The other gangster already got out with a copy, so Hector will know that we did right by him.”
“You know what’s frustrating about this whole thing?” Stoney challenged with a moderately wounded chuckle.
“You can’t press charges on me?” CKB boasted with raised eyebrows.
“No, that’s not it,” the police officer said as he dropped the pistol on the opposite bench.
Stoney turned toward his co-star and struck him on the right cheek, causing CKB to hit the floor on his butt.
“Thanks for taking care of that,” he stated with affection and helped the career criminal back to his feet.
XVII. Eyes on Toothpicks
Stoney leaned back against the weathered blue stucco on the outside wall of a rundown apartment complex. He clutched a 9 millimeter semi-automatic pistol in front of his chin and listened to a group of Rain Bird sprinklers that danced and clicked their way through repetitive cycles. The apartment community was like a ghost town during the midmorning hours. All manner of beer bottles and cigarette butts littered the property, along with the occasional syringe.
“We’re going to breach in thirty,” Troy Mickelson called back to the Japanese officer as he stuck his head around the corner. “Stoney, are you good?” The tall policeman asked and turned back to look at the older man through his mirror sunglasses.
Stoney nodded at his partner and sucked in a deep breath, preparing to backup another unit for a drug raid. The Japanese man looked at his partner’s spiked blonde hair and lean figure. He was grateful to let the twenty-four-year-old take the lead in this operation. His companion seemed eager to make an arrest and kept str
oking his goatee and mustache. Troy was lean and brawny, but by Stoney's estimation he didn’t have the patience to survive for more than two years in the vice unit. He and Stoney had instructions to stay back from the door of the suspect’s apartment since their blue uniforms made them unworthy of a covert raid.
Although the official name of the apartment complex was ‘75th on the Brooklyn,’ the police often called it ‘The Laundromat.’ This nickname was due to the number of drug busts resulting in fatalities over the past five years. These incidents had inspired a campaign by the chief of police to have the property condemned.
“Let’s go!” His partner shouted and galloped around the corner to a metal staircase with cement steps.
The Japanese police officer followed his partner with reluctance and witnessed his younger colleagues charging through the door of an apartment at top speed. He heard shouting and orders for people to get on the floor as he strafed twenty feet at a time, stopping to ensure that nobody was watching from the street or courtyard. Stoney climbed the stairs at just above walking speed and felt his body shivering from the threat of death all around him. His veteran status allowed the man to conserve energy and be more conscious of foolish mistakes that the others might miss.
Stoney stepped through an open apartment door from the second-floor concourse. The apartment smelled awful from