“I worked a lot of hours in them mills,” Henry said, negotiating the bridge over the Calumet River on 106th street. “At one time they was a way of life for a man in this city, long as you was willin’ to do the work.”
He turned right at the base of the drawbridge and went along the entrance-way to another steel mill, this one still operational, that sat on the opposite side of the river from the old mill. Henry swung the car to the left along the drive and into an alley that ran parallel to the railroad tracks. He pointed out the passenger side window.
“That’s the back of the place,” he said. “This plant here ain’t even operating on three shifts anymore, I don’t think. After the sun goes down, this whole area’s like a no-man’s land.”
“This looks pretty good,” said Linc. “But we gotta section it out into zones. Uncle Henry, can you take us back to that tunnel we saw along the road?”
Henry nodded and proceeded down the alley, then made a left. He drove back to 106th, then went west to Torrence. Turning again at the intersection, he drove south. The railroad tracks on this side of the river ran parallel to the street. They started out level at the intersection, then gradually rose along an elevated grade. About a hundred yards east the grade was about thirty feet high, and a huge re-enforced culvert sat along the east side of the street. Henry slowed, surveyed the mirrors, and then made a quick left onto the gravel road inside the culvert. They were in darkness for about ten seconds, then passed into the open again, on the other side of the elevation. Perhaps fifty feet beyond them was the river. The road they were on now was macadamized and twisted its way along the shore of the Calumet River toward the abandoned grounds of Wisconsin Steel.
“This lead all the way back to the mill?” Linc asked pointing toward the distant super-structure.
“It used to,” Henry said. As they got nearer, the road angled off to the right and ran almost directly along the river bank. It twisted back, heading toward the large expanse of open field adjacent to the first buildings of the mill.
“Can we leave the car here and go check this place out?” Linc asked.
“I guess so,” Henry said. He put the Olds in park and shut off the engine. The three men got out and headed on foot across the field.
“This is too open,” Rick said. “No cover.”
Linc nodded, agreeing with that assessment.
“We’d be better off using this as our escape route,” he said. He stamped his feet. “This ground’s pretty hard. We should be able to park one of the cars over in there, by one of those buildings. That way, when we hit ’em and take Diane, we can regroup here, take the car, and get back on the street through that tunnel.”
“The Talon should get over this with no problem,” Rick said.
“Right,” Linc said. “Uncle Henry, that’ll be your job. You get Diane and head back outta here through the tunnel.”
The older man nodded, his eyes scanning the other two.
“And you, Rick,” said Linc. “We can leave you off at the bridge so you can work your way in from the other side. If we can, let’s try to draw them into that building there,” he pointed to the west plant. “That way you can use that outside stairway to take the high ground advantage.”
“Where you gonna be?” Rick asked.
“I gotta stay in the middle where they can see me, otherwise, they’ll never fall for it.” Linc shrugged. “They’ll be looking for me and hopefully think I’m alone. I’ll hand ‘em the fake tape, and when it explodes, that’s when you two can hit ‘em from the sides. I’ll take out whoever’s left in the middle. But wait till I’ve got Diane clear before you start firing.”
“You’re putting yourself right out there in the open?” Rick said. “That’s suicide.”
“I’ll have to hope that they won’t shoot till they get their hands on the tape,” Linc said. “But what other choice do we have?”
Rick said nothing.
“Come on,” Linc said. “Let’s go in and scout it, and make some diagrams to get familiar with the terrain. This area here is gonna be section A.” He moved his hand out in a small circling gesture. Rick got out his pen and paper and began making rough sketches of the roads and terrain.
“I gotta question,” Henry said. “How you gonna get the motherfuckers to come here? I mean, what if they refuse, or want to name their own place?”
“I guess I’m gonna have to do some fast talking,” Linc said, trying to sound more optimistic than he felt.
4:55 P.M.
Linc slipped the quarter into the pay phone and punched in the number. The money dropped through and the computerized operator requested “fifty-five cents, please, for the first three minutes.” Linc redeposited and waited for the ringing. The sweat was dripping down his sides underneath his shirt. Negotiate from a position of strength, he told himself. The southern guy, Germaine, answered on the third ring.
“Yeah, G,” Linc said. “It’s me, and I’m ready to talk turkey.”
“Excellent, Linc,” he said. “Now here’s what I propose—”
“Fuck what you propose,” Linc said. “This is how it’s gonna be. You be in Hegewisch tonight at eleven-forty-five, and I’ll call your little mobile phone and tell you where to meet me.”
“Hegewisch?”
“Yeah, right. You know where it’s at, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Germaine said.
But Linc got the impression that he really didn’t.
“But I don’t think that sounds very satisfactory.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you think. That’s the only way we gonna play.”
“Listen, son.” His voice exuded calmness. “I’m not stupid enough to walk into an ambush, and that’s exactly what this sounds like.”
“That’s real funny, considering the changes you put me through last night,” Linc said.
Germaine sighed heavily.
“Linc, I thought I explained that to you before. Those men were renegades, acting without authority.”
My ass, Linc wanted to say. Instead he said, “Look, the place I got in mind is big, deserted, and abandoned. And besides, how the fuck am I gonna try anything? You think I’m stupid enough to try and go up against someone like you?”
“I would certainly hope not.”
“I won’t,” Linc said. “I know who I’m dealin’ with. I just want my lady back, man. That’s all I want.”
“And the money, Linc,” Germaine said. “Don’t forget about the money. A hundred thousand. It’s all yours for the tape.”
“No tricks?”
“No tricks,” Germaine said. “You have my word on it.”
“Right,” Linc said. “Now let me talk to Diane.”
“I’m afraid she’s not in the immediate area here.”
“Bullshit,” Linc said. “You put her on now, or else it’s no deal.” His voice softened slightly as he added, “I got to know she’s okay.”
Germaine was silent for a moment, then said, “Call me back in exactly ten minutes.” He hung up.
Linc put the pay phone back in its cradle and glanced at his watch.
“Oh, baby, baby, is it really you?” Diane’s voice asked over the phone.
“It’s me, baby,” Linc said. “You okay?”
“I’m all right. Linc,” she said, but her voice sounded quavery. “I really am. They been treating me better since you been being cool. And they already told me they gonna let us go, once you give ’em the tape, baby. They gonna give us some money, too. Lots of money. They showed it to me. Just don’t try nothing, baby. Please.”
“I ain’t gonna try nothing,” he said calmly. “I just want to get you back, is all.”
“Promise me, baby,” she said. “Promise me you not gonna do nothing stupid, baby. Please.”
“I promise,” he said, trying to choke back his tears. “I promise. . .” Not to do anything as stupid as you tried, he thought. “Just don’t worry, baby, everything’s gonna be all right. I’ll be comin’ for you ton
ight, okay? Now put that guy back on.”
“I’m here, Linc,” Germaine’s voice said.
“Be there tonight,” Linc said. “Eleven forty-five.” This time it was his turn to hang-up.
The jangling of the phone snapped Tony awake for the second time that day. This time he’d dozed off in the easy-chair in his living room with the TV blaring on some news channel about the efforts to stem a seeming resurgence of the flood water in the Loop basements. The phone kept on ringing as he rolled out of the chair and stepped over to the table.
“Tony?” Ray’s excited voice leaped out of the receiver at him before he’d even had a chance to say hello.
“No, it’s Richard J. Daley,” Tony said. “Who the hell did you think it was? You called me, didn’t you?”
“Christ, what side of the bed you get up on?” Ray said. “Listen, remember I told you about my brother-in-law? Well, guess what. We finally got that little scanner/receiver working, and I just intercepted a call.”
“You what? Are you fucking nuts? You know what Kent said.”
“Hey, fuck Kent,” Ray said disdainfully. “Now listen to me, if we wait on this, we’re gonna miss it. It’s going down tonight.”
“What? When?”
“Eleven-forty-five,” Ray said. “That’s all I got so far. It sounds like they’re holding this guy Linc’s girlfriend, and want to exchange her for some videotape. It’s got to be the one the Mink was talking about.”
“The tape,” Tony said incredulously. “How the hell would he get it?”
“Shit if I know, but that’s what they said. Now what have you got to say?”
“Lovisi, you’re a fucking genius.”
“Don’t I know it?” Ray said. “But it is nice to hear from my peers. Now, are you up for it tonight?”
“You better believe it,” Tony said. “Where’s it going down at?”
There were a few moments of silence before Ray answered.
“Well, we sorta didn’t get that part yet.”
“Huh?”
“Well, Christ, we just got the fucking thing working a little while ago,” Ray said defensively. “Anyway, I figured if you and me got in the unmarked with the scanner and just waited, maybe they’d say something else and we could figure it out. Unless you want to go lean on the uncle some more.”
Tony sighed. He was bone-weary, but he knew if he didn’t go with him, Ray would be out there in the car alone.
“No, we better not do that just yet,” Tony said. “Come by at about nine-thirty or ten. I want to try and get some more sleep.”
“Okay, great,” Ray said. “I will. And dig out your vest, too.”
“Already done,” said Tony, but he was thinking that a bullet-proof vest wasn’t going to stop a round from an M-16.
CHAPTER 16
Thursday, April 16, 1992
8:50 P.M.
Linc set his half-eaten hamburger down on the motel table and looked at his watch again. His stomach was too queasy for him to try to eat any more, and they’d gone over the plan so many times now that he was beginning to doubt it. And doubt himself. There were too many intangibles. But when hadn’t there been intangibles? There sure had been some in Panama, and in the Gulf too. Plenty. But this time was different. This time it was just them. Nobody else. And then, there was Diane.
Henry shifted on the bed and sighed heavily.
“What’s up?” Linc asked.
“I was just thinking, maybe it’s a good thing that I got no woman to answer to, being gone all this time,” Henry said. “But I am worried about setting things up for tomorrow on the job. You sure it wouldn’t be all right for me to run home just for a little while?”
“Can’t do it, Uncle Henry,” Linc said. “They may be watching for you. I’m just glad we got Rick’s Talon outta there with no problem.”
“Maybe I better call Dock,” Henry said, reaching for the phone. “I know they ain’t gonna stop sending me bills just ’cause you guys are in shit up to your knees.”
“Wait till Rick gets back, okay? We gotta keep this line clear in case there’s a problem.”
Henry frowned, then slumped back onto the pillows.
“Want something more to eat?” Linc asked.
“Huh-uh,” Henry said. “Don’t got no appetite.”
“I know what you mean,” Linc said. “Ain’t nothing worse than playin’ the waiting game.” The M-16 lay on the floor next to him. Two sets of fully loaded magazines, taped together to allow a quick, flip-flop re-load, were next to the rifle. He heard a car door slam and went immediately to the window, parting the vinyl curtains ever-so-slightly. “It’s Rick.”
Linc went to the door and unbolted it. Rick stepped in carrying a large, white plastic bag. He went to the foot of the bed and carefully removed three boxes. Each box was emblazoned with a colorful depiction of a radio headset sending out a bolt of lightning. Rick took out three transistor-sized batteries and tossed one to Linc and another to Henry.
“These are supposed to have a range of five-hundred yards,” he said, peeling off the plastic sealing the battery to the back of the card. “The guy said to make sure the antenna was up, otherwise you can transmit, but not receive.”
Linc took his radio out of the box. It was about the size of a Walkman, with foam ear-pieces mounted on a thin metal headband. The antenna was on the right side of the headband just above the ear-piece. On the left side a bendable, heavy plastic wire angled downward with a foam-covered transmitter. The wire hook-up for the battery was on a cord about twenty-four inches long and had a clip so it could be secured to a pocket or belt.
“We’d better run some tests on these to determine their capabilities,” Linc said, glad to have something to keep them occupied.
“Right,” Rick said. “I’ll go outside and start a slow count.”
“It’ll transmit through a building?” Henry asked incredulously.
“It should,” Rick said. “Unless there’s too much interference.”
Henry arched his eyebrows and began ripping open his box. After they all had them on, they decided that Rick and Henry would go outside and walk in opposite directions. There were two channels available on the units and Linc wanted to check out the capacities of each. Rick moved down to the office counting slowly. When he was about a hundred feet away he stopped and asked, “How do you read me?”
“Loud and clear,” Linc said. “Uncle Henry?”
“Ain’t this a trip,” Henry said. “I’m all the way down by that bar and I can hear you both as clear as a bell.”
“Okay, try to go down about fifty feet more and check back with me,” Linc said. As they went farther their transmissions began to crackle and break up. Henry even began to pick up strange interference: the sound of a baby crying, words from a phone conversation, part of a drive-up order near the Burger King. Linc told them to begin working their way back. After about thirty minutes more, they’d determined that the outside perimeter for understandable transmissions was about five-hundred feet.
“That gonna be enough?” Henry asked back in the room.
“It’s all we got,” Linc said, then realizing that his uncle was fishing for reassurance, he added, “I think it’ll be just fine.” He slipped the battery out of the radio sprockets and set it on the bed then glanced at his watch again.
9:07 P.M.
“What I can’t understand is why he wanted to meet in Hegewisch,” Bobby Mallory said.
“Is that another of the city’s predominantly black areas?” Germaine asked.
“Naw, there ain’t that many shines around there.” He quickly glanced at Gumbo, who sat beside Germaine at the small table. If the big man took offense, he certainly didn’t show it. Mallory took a quick drag off his cigarette and said, “I mean, Hegewisch, that’s the tenth ward. Mostly Polacks, dagos, and spics. It’s Eddie Vrdolyak’s turf. You guys heard of ‘Fast Eddie,’ right? Used to be an alderman. Stirred up a lotta shit back when Washington was mayor.” Neither of them spo
ke. Mallory scratched his nose and went on. “It starts at about 130th and Brainard. This is probably a good place to wait,” he said, leaning over to tap his forefinger on the map that was spread out in front of them. “Brainard and Avenue O, which turns into Burnham Avenue once you get down by Burnham Woods.”
“Woods?” Germaine asked questioningly. “As in what?”
“You know, woods,” Mallory said with a shrug. “Like a forest preserve. Lots of trees and shit.”
Germaine nodded.
“You think that’s where he’s going to set up the meet?” he asked.
Mallory took another drag on his square and blew the smoke out his nose.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” he said with a smoky breath.
“Hege-wisch,” Germaine said, drawing out the two syllables. “Your descriptions of the neighborhood are very interesting, Bobby. And perplexing as well. I figured that our friend Linc would prefer to stay in the briar patch.” He paused for a moment, then said, “Is it an area that’s easily accessible?”
“Not really,” Mallory said. “Everybody always says, if you put trains on all the tracks, and raised up all the bridges, nobody could get in or out.”
Germaine looked at him questioningly.
“The whole fucking place is surrounded by train tracks and water,” Mallory said. “I don’t think I’ve ever driven through there where I didn’t catch a fucking freight train. Then you got the Calumet River and Wolf Lake.”
“What type of areas are those?” Germaine asked. “Isolated? Deserted?”
“Yeah,” Mallory said tentatively. “Hegewisch itself is really just a residential neighborhood, but there are some places I guess that are kinda desolate.”
“How about the surrounding area?” Germaine asked, tapping his finger on the map.
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