Double Dead

by Gary Hardwick

  His job was to make sure that Cane didn't get away if they missed him. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. Suddenly he felt a hand on his arm.

  “I didn't want you to come,” Ramona whispered. “I think that this might be bad for everyone.”

  “Sorry, but I have to protect my investment,” he said.

  “Headlights!” LoLo called out. She turned briefly to Jesse and Ramona, holding up a fist.

  The big Lincoln slowly rolled their way. Jesse's body tightened. LoLo and Yolanda seemed to stiffen too. LoLo pulled out the Stiletto and placed it under her arm. They all took cover behind the church's set of stone pillars.

  The Lincoln came closer. Behind it the car with the twins inside started up and closed in.

  As the Lincoln drew closer, Jesse could make out two men in the front. Then the car stopped in the middle of the deserted street, the engine idling. It was about thirty feet from Jesse and the women.

  What the fuck is he up to? said LoLo to herself. “If he starts to run, shoot,” she said to Yolanda.

  The Lincoln stayed put as the twins' car stopped about ten feet behind it. Jesse could see the girls. They smiled, holding guns. Cane was in the passenger seat of the Lincoln. Q sat behind the wheel. In the backseat Little Jack sat nervously.

  Cane looked at them for a second, then reached for the dashboard. They heard a metallic clang. The Lincoln's trunk popped open. Gunfire sounded, and the twins' car was riddled with bullets.

  

  Where the fuck did he go? Florence whispered to herself. She was nervous as the lone man walked closer to her. The black one couldn't have gone far; she thought she'd only been away for a few seconds. He was probably doubling around behind her. That way she couldn't run out the back as she'd planned. She was getting rusty. She should have known that. If these guys killed for a living, then they were experts on keeping their prey contained.

  She quickly went out of the building into the rear. She would have to use the element of surprise. She ran to a stack of lumber and crouched behind it.

  A few nervous minutes passed. The she heard someone climbing a fence. She peeked around the side of the wood and saw the black killer walking to the building. His back was to her, so she couldn't get a good look at his face.

  Florence wanted him to go. Then she could get away, and her plan would be complete. She didn't want a confrontation with the men; she just needed to lure them away from that van.

  She cursed silently as the black man walked her way. He was looking for a place to hide. That was it, she thought. She'd have to take him.

  Florence ran up behind the black killer and shoved her gun into the back of his head.

  “Don't even fucking breathe,” she said. “Drop that gun right now.” The man was silent. Then he dropped his gun from his gloved hand. It had a long silencer on it.

  Florence was about to hit him and run when the other man emerged from the building under a light. He was a lot bigger than he looked from a distance. He saw Florence and raised his gun.

  “Hold it!” Florence said. She saw him standing under the light and got a good look at his face. She had never seen him before.

  Without warning North shot his partner in the chest. His gun was muffled by the silencer. The black killer fell backward, knocking Florence to the ground. Florence shot at North wildly. Her shots thundered in the night, echoing off nearby buildings. North ran back into the building, covering himself in darkness.

  Florence got to her feet and moved behind a big earthmover. A volley of shots made her move away from it. She ran back farther, behind a stack of bricks. She dropped her gun, but it landed next to her.

  “Fuck,” she said.

  She stuck her head out from behind the bricks and saw North running to his fallen partner. She shot at him but missed. He fired a succession of shots that hit the bricks, breaking some of them into pieces. Florence ducked down.

  North grabbed his partner and his gun and dragged the black man by his feet into the darkness of the building. Florence took a random shot to keep him at bay. She needed one of them alive but couldn't be timid about this. She peeked out from behind the bricks. She saw light in the dark building. It was a spark, then a small fire.

  “Oh, my God--” Florence could see the big man running by the light of the fire. The black killer was on the floor inside, consumed in a column of flame.

  

  Tico stopped firing from the trunk of the Lincoln as Q hit the accelerator. The Lincoln roared off in reverse, swerving around the dead twins. LoLo and Yolanda fired at it. LoLo's Stiletto spit out bullets quickly, ripping a line into the Lincoln's hood.

  Jesse moved from behind a stone pillar and fired three shots at the moving car. He was nervous, but he had to have that case. The Lincoln was fast, and he couldn't get a bead on it.

  He looked over to Ramona, who had a gun out in front of her but had not fired. She looked distraught, and her hands shook. Jesse realized the last time she fired a gun, her sister was killed. He went to her and took the gun away.

  LoLo kept firing, then took off running toward the car. “Not this time, muthafucka,” she said.

  “No!” said Yolanda. She tried to grab her, but LoLo was too fast. Yolanda shot at the moving car, following her boss.

  “Wait!” said Ramona. Ramona tried to take off after them, but Jesse held on to her.

  “It's too late,” said Jesse. “We've only got one chance now.”

  The Lincoln stopped, smoke coming from the hood. The doors flew open, and Cane, Little Jack, and Q ran out and ducked behind the car.

  Tico got out of the trunk and fired at LoLo but missed. She pulled the trigger of the Stiletto. The gun caught Tico in the leg, ripping it to pieces. He collapsed to the ground, screaming. LoLo quickly sprayed Tico with bullets. His body jumped as it was struck. Glass flew, and holes popped into the car's metal. The Stiletto emptied, and LoLo had to stop to reload. She was on fire and paid no mind to the fact that she was now out in the open.

  Yolanda shot at the car to keep the men down. She was shocked when she saw Cane stand up and throw something at LoLo. He moved so fast that he was gone before she could get a bead on him.

  The knife hit LoLo in the chest. With a hoarse grunt she dropped the gun and fell to one knee. She was reaching for the knife when a shot from Little Jack hit her in the arm and she fell backward.

  Together Little Jack and Q popped up and fired at Yolanda. Q's shot was wide, while Little Jack's hit the big woman in the head, but not before she got off her own shot, which caught Little Jack in the stomach. The boy fell to the ground, uttering a sound like a child crying.

  A few moments passed. Then Cane stepped out from behind the car. He walked quickly to LoLo. Q went to Yolanda.

  “The big woman is dead,” said Q. “The boy's been hit, but he's alive.”

  “Fuck him,” said Cane flatly. “There's two more by that church. Go get them. I need one alive-- the woman,” he added.

  Q turned, but Jesse and Ramona had vanished. “They gone,” he said.

  “Then they're in the damned church,” said Cane. “Fuck it, just don't let them come out. Wait for me.”

  Q picked up LoLo's Stiletto and headed for the church. Cane turned to LoLo, who was still clutching the big knife.

  “Don't suppose you know where my money is?” he asked. Blood flowed from her wound. He put his hand on the big knife and twisted it savagely. LoLo screamed. Blood ran from her mouth as it filled her chest.

  “Fu-- you,” she managed to say.

  “Have it your way.” He pulled the knife from her chest and stood. LoLo gurgled something as she weakly reached up for her attacker. Cane placed his foot on her chest and shifted his weight on to her. He held her there as the life flowed from her and she died.

  Cane turned to the Lincoln. Tico sat on his ass filled with bullet holes, his leg almost severed. His eyes were wide open in a surprised expression. No time for mourning, he thought. He closed Tico's eyes, th
en went to Little Jack and quickly felt his neck. He was gone too.

  Cane turned to the big church. Q stood by the door, waiting. God was cruel, Cane thought. He'd taken friends and prosperity from him tonight, but one of those people in that church knew where his money was. And he was going to find it.

  Cane went to the Lincoln and took the black briefcase from the floor of the backseat. It was covered in glass and had a few dents in it. What was this thing that a bullet couldn't penetrate it? Whatever it was, they wanted it, and he would use it to lure them out. Cane lifted the case and walked toward the church. He stopped at the women's cars. No money in either one. He cursed. He knew LoLo would never give it up easily. But that money had to be somewhere.

  Cane moved closer to the church. It seemed to shoot up out of the ground into the dark sky, like a living thing. He could not remember the last time he'd been in a church. He dreaded entering the sacred place. Surely this was all part of His plan.

  But it was night.

  That made things just about even.

  

  From the back of a small crowd Florence watched as the firefighters put out the fire in the half-finished building. They'd find the body sometime later, she thought. It was probably so badly burned that they'd never make an ID. That bastard was smart, she thought. He couldn't take the body, but he couldn't leave it either, so he'd destroyed it. He was good, all right, but not good enough.

  “What the fuck happened?” asked Randall, walking up beside her. Florence moved away from the people, out of earshot, and Randall followed.

  “Things got out of hand, that's all,” she said.

  “I heard gunshots,” said Randall. “You okay, princess?” He grabbed her arm gently. Florence was still shaken, and his touch felt good.

  “Yeah,” said Florence. “So, did you do it?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I strapped it on good, like you showed me, but I don't know why you wanted to do this. Why in God's name would you put your own Lojack on someone else's car?”

  “I'll tell you everything, I promise, but right now I gotta go.”

  Randall leaned in to kiss Florence, but she stuck out her hand and shook his and left. In her car on the seat was the Lojack car recovery equipment. She'd had a friend install it in her car at police headquarters. She knew the killers had seen her, but she figured they'd never suspect this.

  Florence turned on the system. She entered her code from her own Lojack. Soon a blip registered on the monitor. The bastard was not far away.

  Now it was her turn to do the following. She watched the monitor as she drove along. The killer was moving fast. He's scared, she thought. Just what she needed. She sped up, not wanting to give him a lot of time. Suddenly the van stopped on the monitor.

  “Gotcha!” said Florence. She hit the accelerator. The killer was probably at home. He'd botched the job of getting her, and he'd had to kill his friend to boot. He was probably pissing acid right now.

  She was going to get the killer's address, then expose him. She was navigating the sharp turns on Ponchartrain, headed toward Palmer Woods, when the killer's van started to move again.

  “Fuck,” she said. Florence pulled over and waited. The killer was moving toward downtown. She went that way. She drove to Livernois and got on the freeway.

  Florence grew more excited as the killer started to go downtown. Maybe he was meeting whomever he worked for. He'd made a mess of things, and he needed to tell them about it.

  Florence followed the killer off the freeway and down Jefferson Avenue. She followed the van into downtown, then out of it. The killer rolled toward Belle Isle, going farther east.

  She was right behind him when two cars ahead of her hit each other. She lost sight of the van as traffic stopped. She had no time. She swerved around the accident, going into oncoming traffic. Horns blared, but she made it past the pileup and took up the chase, but the van was gone.

  She rolled around the area where she'd lost him, cursing and pounding her dashboard. Suddenly she hit the brakes.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” she said.

  The van was nowhere to be found, but she was at the corner of Dwight Street. The tracking system showed that the van was nearby.

  She looked down the block and saw armed guards. Florence turned her car around. She didn't dare go all the way. She drove back to Jefferson Avenue, knowing that there was only one place that van could have gone on Dwight Street. Alex Manoogian Mansion, the mayor's house.

  

  The heavy church door opened. It creaked like the lid of a coffin in a B movie. Cane and Q stepped inside. It was dark. Debris, pews, and junk were piled everywhere.

  “They probably ran,” said Q. He had the Stiletto in one hand.

  “No,” said Cane. “We would've seen them.” He motioned for Q to keep going. “We don't have a lot of time,” said Cane loudly. “Cops are coming soon. All them gunshots.”

  Nothing. All they heard was the wind whistling outside. Cane started tapping the black case with this hand. The sound echoed off the stone walls.

  “I got that thing you wanted,” said Cane loudly. “I don't know what's in it, but you can have it. All you gotta do is tell me where that bitch hid my money.”

  “Cane, man, they're gone,” said Q.

  “Shut the fuck up!” said Cane.

  Their eyes widened as Jesse stepped out from behind a stack of pews on the church's altar. His hands were over his head. “Okay,” said Jesse. “Let's deal.”

  “Where's the woman I saw?” asked Cane. “Gone,” said Jesse. “She ran.”

  “Bullshit,” said Cane. “Women run this crew. Bring her out or I kill you right now.” He pulled out his razor.

  “Go ahead,” said Jesse, “you'll never get that money if you do.”

  Cane looked at Jesse with hatred. He wanted to kill him, but he wanted that money even more.

  “Okay,” said Cane. “It's your world.”

  “First,” said Jesse, “you leave that black case right here. I go with you and get the money.”

  “No,” Cane said. “Tell me where it is, and you can have the case right now.”

  “Sorry,” said Jesse. “This deal is not negotiable. Now, put the case down, step away from it, and let's go. Otherwise kill me now, and take your chances. I'm sure whoever you're buying heroin from has relied on you to have that money. If you don't, I guess I'll be seeing you in hell.”

  Cane slammed the case on the floor defiantly. Then he and Q left it behind as they walked toward Jesse. Jesse kept his hands up, where they could see them. They stopped ten feet from him.

  “What's in the case?” asked Cane.

  “I don't know,” said Jesse.

  “Damn,” said Q. “This is that nigga that killed that lawyer. He busted out some girl who killed the mayor.”

  “Come on, muthafucka,” said Cane, “let's go and get my--”

  They all heard a gun being cocked. Cane turned to see Ramona holding a gun on him.

  “No!” said Jesse. “Ramona, take the case, and run-now!” “I'm not leaving you here,” she said. “Now you,” she said to Q. “Drop that gun, and move out of the way.”

  “Ramona,” said Jesse, “just take it and go.”

  “No!” she shouted. “Now you two drop the gun and get away from him!” Her hand shook as it held the gun on the men.

  Suddenly Cane dropped into a crouch and sprang toward Ramona, raising the big razor. It happened so fast that she had no time to move. Ramona fired her gun.

  Jesse saw that Q was also surprised. Jesse rushed forward and jumped on Q, grabbing for the Stiletto. Q was knocked sideways, dropping the machine gun. Jesse landed on him with all his weight.

  In a flash Q grabbed a gun from his waistband and brought it into Jesse's face. Jesse stared sharply into the gun barrel, but Q didn't shoot.

  The hesitation was what Jesse needed. He grabbed Q's gun and desperately struggled with him for it. The weapon was twisted out of Q's hand
and fell to the floor. In another split second Jesse had pulled his own gun from the back of his pants and put it to Q's forehead.

  “Don't make me,” he said.

  Jesse rose to his feet, the gun still trained on the drug dealer. Glancing over, he saw Cane, holding Ramona with one arm. In his other hand he held a razor at her throat. Ramona's gun was on the floor next to them. The black case was not far away.

  “Okay,” Cane said in a dead, flat voice. “Put the gun down, or I drop her ass right now.”

  “Shoot him!” Ramona yelled.

  “Shut the fuck up!” said Cane. He pressed the razor to her neck.

  Jesse didn't move. He held the gun on Q and watched Cane. Ramona's face was filled with resolve. She didn't care what happened to her now.

  “Let her go, or I'll shoot him,” Jesse said with determination.

  “Go on, I don't give a shit about that nigga,” said Cane.

  “He's for real,” said Q. He was silent as Jesse jabbed the gun into his head.

  “Last chance,” said Cane. “Drop it or I'll slice this bitch,” yelled Cane.

  “All right,” said Jesse. He took the gun from Q's head and started lowering it to the floor.

  “Just drop it!” yelled Cane. His grip loosened, and Ramona grabbed his arm, pulling it away from her throat.

  Jesse immediately lifted the gun, but Ramona was too close.

  Ramona slipped out of Cane's grasp and pushed herself away from him. He lashed out with the razor, cutting Ramona's hand right down the middle. She fell to the floor, blood running from the gash.

  Now Cane was open, and Jesse whipped up the gun and squeezed the trigger. The gun clicked impotently. It was empty. Jesse thought vaguely that he'd spent bullets shooting at the Lincoln.

  Q grabbed Jesse and punched him hard. Jesse's head snapped back. He grabbed Q by the shirt and hit him in the stomach.

  Cane ran toward the two men, the razor in his hand. Jolted with fear, Jesse shoved Q into the advancing Cane, and all three men fell to the floor.