Powder Burn

by Ty Patterson

  He unscrewed its panel and repeated the procedure, with one difference. He jammed a tiny wireless camera into the explosive and programmed it to broadcast images to his phone. The device was linked to a satellite signal, with a battery that lasted for a week.

  I won’t need that long.

  ‘All done.’ He wiped his hands on a paper towel as he joined Felipe in the living room. ‘I might have to return if we still get wrong readings. Sign here, please,’ he thrust the scheduler at the hitter, who looked indecisive and then picked up the stylus and scribbled on the pad.

  * * *

  ‘What did he do?’ Esteban asked Felipe when the gas technician had departed.

  ‘He fixed something, applied tape.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I wasn’t watching all the time.’

  ‘Fixed something?’ The shot-caller frowned. ‘I thought he was going to inspect the meter, that’s all.’

  ‘I don’t know what technicians do,’ the banger said defensively.

  ‘Show me.’

  Felipe took him outside and pointed at the meter. ‘He did something there and covered it in tape.’

  Esteban crouched over the piping as he tried to figure out what lay beneath the covering. He prodded it with his fingers and felt some give.

  ‘What about at the water heater?’

  ‘I didn’t stay around to watch,’ the hitter said when they entered the utility room. ‘I heard him remove the cover. Don’t know what he did afterwards.’

  ‘Screwdriver,’ Esteban commanded.

  ‘Why’re you so uptight about this? He’s a gas technician!’

  ‘Because,’ the shot-caller snarled, ‘in all these years, no technician has ever come to this place.’

  ‘You should have called the office and checked it out then.’

  ‘I DID! THEY DID SEND POLLOCK OUT—’ Esteban bellowed.

  ‘Then what’s the big deal?’

  ‘Get me a screwdriver.’

  Felipe huffed and went away reluctantly and returned with several.

  The thug’s boss inspected them and chose one. He turned to the heater and unscrewed the front panel.

  ‘What’s this?’ he peered at the tiny lens that was stuck in what seemed to be a similar assembly to what was at the meter. ‘Is that a camera?’

  He sucked his breath sharply as he worked out the meaning of the wires that could be seen beneath the tape.

  ‘IT’S A BOMB!’

  He raced out of the room with Felipe on his heels and dashed for the door. His feet faltered when he reached the exit.

  ‘What?’ the thug asked him. ‘We have to get away.’ More bangers joined them in a chorus of voices and angry yells.

  ‘Quiet!’ Esteban snapped. ‘Why would he put a camera on it?’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Felipe yelled at him angrily when he returned to the room.

  The shot-caller paid no heed and inspected the explosive again. He peered behind it and exclaimed in surprise when he saw the card that had fallen.

  It had a single line of writing on it.

  TELL COVARRA TO CALL ME.

  83

  ‘What is it?’

  Covarra held his finger up to silence Salazar as he took in Esteban’s excited chatter.

  ‘That’s all on that card? No name, no number?’

  ‘No, boss. I called SoCalGas and they confirmed a technician’s visit had been scheduled.’

  ‘You’re sure it’s a bomb?’

  ‘No, but I won’t know until I remove the tape—’

  ‘Don’t touch it!’

  ‘I won’t, boss,’ Esteban said with feeling. ‘What do we do?’

  ‘Stay there. Don’t allow anyone to come to the house. No technicians, no building inspectors, no one. Am I clear?’

  ‘Si, but what about the bomb?’

  ‘DON’T YOU THINK IT WOULD HAVE GONE OFF BY NOW, IF IT WAS MEANT TO?’ Covarra exploded and hung up angrily.

  ‘I have to do all the thinking here,’ he complained, glaring at the only other person in the room, Salazar. ‘I am surrounded by fools.’

  ‘What happened, Snake? There’s a bomb?’

  ‘DIDN’T YOU HEAR?’ Covarra shouted at him, forgetting that only he could hear Esteban’s call. ‘SOME ONE CAME TO OUR APPLE STREET HIDEOUT AND PLANTED TWO BOMBS THERE.’

  Salazar stared at him in disbelief. ‘Bombs? Two of them?’

  ‘SI. AND THAT MAN LEFT A NOTE THAT I SHOULD CALL HIM.’

  ‘The bomber? He left a number? How do you know—’

  ‘DON’T YOU GET IT?’ Covarra grabbed his friend’s shirt and shook him physically. ‘ONLY ONE MAN COULD HAVE DONE THIS.’ He grunted with effort. ‘ONE MAN WHO HAS BEEN AFTER ME. IT’S GROGAN.’

  * * *

  Evening.

  Cutter was in the van, his seat reclined as far back as it would go, sipping coffee from a takeout joint.

  He had paid Limon off after their return from Apple Street. The driver had waggled his finger at him and warned him never to call or approach him again.

  He moved his gear to the SoCalGas vehicle after his accomplice’s departure, figuring the ride was safe enough to use for a while.

  Beth and Meg would have ensured its plates will be legit. The company’s logo will arouse no suspicion.

  He broke a cookie and stuffed half of it in his mouth. Stopped chewing when it brought back a memory.

  Arnedra loved Lin Shun’s desserts. The Chinese American owned a bodega in New York, along with her husband and another business partner. It was her baking that attracted customers from all over the city, however. Those cookies that Beth and Meg gave us … she was into them, too.

  Her loss was like a hole in his heart, a vast emptiness that he knew from experience wouldn’t ever be filled. He squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, his detached self was back.

  He was wiping his fingers on his jeans when his phone buzzed.

  ‘Yeah?’ he answered, without checking the screen. He knew who was calling.

  ‘I’LL KILL YOU—’

  ‘Don’t you think that’s repetitive?’ He cut off Covarra’s low hiss. ‘You live in LA, the center of the entertainment world. Movies are made here. You can’t come up with some better lines?’

  He grinned when he heard the gangster grinding his teeth. ‘You won’t kill me,’ he told the Street Front leader coldly. ‘You don’t know where I am … heck, for all you know I might be looking down at you through a scope.’

  He chuckled when he heard the gangster draw a sharp breath.

  ‘Relax. I don’t want to kill you. Not yet. I want something from you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘First, those bombs. If you or your men touch them, or bring someone, they’ll go off. I can see and hear everything through that camera. I’ll know if you try to tamper with them. You know what will happen if they go boom. You’ve got product there, don’t you? Imagine those baggies burning. Say, how’re you getting on with the Juarez Cartel? Have you managed to pay them—’

  ‘WHAT DO YOU WANT?’

  Cutter winced at Covarra’s scream and held the phone away from his ear.

  ‘Where do the Armenian Bros keep their product?’

  84

  ‘Why do you need that?’ Covarra stiffened in surprise, momentarily forgetting his rage.

  ‘That’s not your business. I’m sure you know where Janikyan has his warehouses. You and he have been attacking each other’s gangs for years.’

  ‘If I knew, don’t you think we would have taken them over?’

  ‘I don’t care what you do or don’t do. It’s six pm. I’ll give you four hours. Your next call had better be about a location.’

  Covarra swore when Grogan hung up. He ran his fingers through his short hair as he paced the room.

  ‘What did he want?’

  ‘Where the Bros have their product,’ he told Salazar bitterly. ‘As if we know!’

  ‘We would have attacked if we did.’

  ‘That’s what I
told him, but he wasn’t listening. If he destroys that house, we’re done. We’ll be as good as wiped out. I have told the Mexicans to be patient … but how long will they keep quiet? If we don’t have product to sell, how will we make money?’

  ‘Why’s he interested in Janikyan?’

  ‘How would I know?’

  ‘Why don’t you ask him?’

  ‘I just spoke to him. Weren’t you listening?’

  ‘I mean Panig Janikyan.’

  * * *

  The Armenian Bros leader didn’t pace his living room the way Covarra did. He was still, staring into space, as Zohrab dealt with the gang’s business.

  He stirred when his bodyguard brought him a beverage. ‘Everything going okay?’

  ‘Yes, boss.’

  ‘Grogan?’

  ‘He’s in the wind, boss.’ The banger made a face. ‘We’ve got men looking for him …’

  ‘We won’t find him. He’s too good for that.’

  He sipped his drink appreciatively and licked his lips. ‘Where’s Toros?’

  ‘I can get him, boss. Should I?’

  ‘Yeah. Covarra doesn’t suspect that we know he’s a snitch?’

  ‘No, boss. We’ve deliberately been feeding him low-level information. Why do you need him, boss?’

  ‘It’s time to meet Covarra.’

  * * *

  The banger arrived at eight pm and stood nervously in the Little Armenia house.

  ‘Toros,’ Janikyan said, smiling briefly, ‘it’s the first time I have met you. I hear a lot about you.’

  ‘It’s an honor to be here, boss.’ The thug bobbed his head in a jerky bow.

  ‘We know you’re Snake’s snitch.’

  The hood’s eyes widened in terror. His face turned pale. ‘I … no …’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Janikyan said, soothingly. ‘I’ve known about it for a long time. You’re still alive for a reason. I’ve been using you. Whatever you’ve told Snake has been approved by me.’

  ‘I … don’t … understand.’

  ‘You don’t need to,’ Janikyan told him sharply. ‘Make contact with Snake. Tell him I want to meet him.’

  ‘He wants to meet with you too, boss.’

  The gang leader looked at him in surprise.

  ‘I got the message as I was coming here, boss. Snake wants me to set up a meeting.’

  * * *

  They met in the Bros-owned massage parlor in Little Armenia.

  Covarra had been reluctant to meet there initially but had given in when Janikyan threatened to call it off.

  ‘My people will be there. If you try anything, there will be shooting,’ he had warned.

  Janikyan greeted the Street Front boss as if they were close friends when the leader arrived at eight pm.

  ‘Your men and my men will be in the outside room. This place is secure. We check it every day for surveillance devices; every employee is hand-picked; you don’t have to fear anything.’ He led the gangster inside, stripped and lay down on his belly for the masseuse to work on him.

  ‘How can I be sure you won’t cut my throat here?’

  ‘Have you seen this place?’ Janikyan barked at him. ‘I won’t spill your blood here. I’ll kill you somewhere else if I have to do that. Relax, Covarra,’ he said impatiently. ‘There will only be talking here. No fighting.’

  He hid a grin when Covarra lay down on the bed reluctantly and winced when his masseuse began pounding him with the sides of her hands.

  ‘You go first,’ he told the Street Front boss.

  ‘I have an enemy, Grogan,’ the man gasped.

  ‘I’ve heard of him. He’s all over TV.’

  ‘He’s hunting for you, too.’

  Janikyan pretended to look surprised and stared at him.

  ‘Me? Why?’

  ‘I don’t know. He planted two bombs in my warehouse. If I don’t give up one of your stores, he says he’ll blow my place up.’

  ‘How does this concern me? It’s your problem.’

  ‘Are you following the news? Grogan was some kind of hotshot special forces soldier. He has destroyed two of my warehouses already. If he’s hunting you, it’s only a matter of time before he gets you. Don’t be overconfident.’

  ‘Why should I give up my location to save you?’

  ‘I’m not asking you to do that. But, together, we can set a trap for him. I have to call him in a couple of hours.’

  ‘Call him tomorrow, to Warner Boulevard. In the evening.’

  ‘Why there?’

  ‘Tell him you’ll give him the address, but in person. He has to show himself.’

  ‘He won’t agree to that.’

  ‘He will. He needs that address desperately. He wouldn’t go to the trouble of planting bombs if he didn’t.’

  ‘I’m not sure—’

  ‘Tell him you’ll be there, too.’

  ‘Why should I risk myself?’

  ‘You want Grogan taken out? Yeah? In that case, do it like I say. Both of you, on Warner Boulevard, tomorrow evening. I’ll take care of the rest.’

  ‘How do I know you won’t kill me, too?’

  Janikyan looked at him contemptuously. ‘I could kill you here, right now. Your men wouldn’t know it. Why would I wait till tomorrow? You’ve got to trust me.’

  ‘How will it go down tomorrow?’

  ‘You call me and point out which vehicle Grogan is in.’

  ‘What’s on Warner Boulevard?’

  ‘Grogan’s grave.’

  85

  ‘Why can’t you tell me right now?’ Cutter seethed when the Street Leader called him. ‘Should I blow up your warehouse? I’ll do that—’

  ‘STOP!’ Covarra yelled. ‘How can I trust you?’ Covarra exhaled harshly. ‘I can give you the location, but you still might go ahead and explode those bombs.’

  ‘You can’t, just as I know you will double-cross me.’

  ‘That’s why I’m proposing this,’ the gang leader said triumphantly. ‘Let’s meet in Burbank. Warner Boulevard.’

  ‘What’s there?’ he asked suspiciously. Film studios over there, not much else. ‘You producing a movie? Life and times of Francisco Covarra, a biopic?’

  His sarcasm was lost on the gangster, who told him coldly, ‘Be there. Alone. We’ll meet face to face—’

  ‘Like last time, when you planned to kill me?’

  ‘Puto, I still want to do that. I still want to bury my knife in you. But that will have to wait. Come there. I will tell you where Armenian Bros warehouse is when I see you.’

  ‘Tell me here and now.’

  ‘No. Go ahead. Blow that warehouse. We’ll survive.’

  ‘You won’t. Juarez Cartel will send hitters after you.’

  ‘Snake does not fear anyone,’ Covarra said proudly. ‘You want your address, come to Warner Boulevard today.’

  Cutter scratched his forehead as he considered the gangster’s call. What’s he up to? Why does he want me there? He was sure Street Front would set a trap for him … but where? That’s an open street. There’ll be traffic, tour buses.

  He shook his head and gave up trying to figure out Covarra’s motives. It’ll work in my favor, too. He won’t be able to take me out in the open.

  He needed a foil, however. Some way he wouldn’t be recognized immediately even if Street Front filled the street with its bangers.

  He drove to LAX-it.

  * * *

  ‘Did you set it up?’ Janikyan asked when Covarra called him. The two men had set up a protocol for communication. Burner phones, which were replaced after every interaction, both knowing that the truce between the two gangs was temporary.

  ‘Si. He’ll come. How will we take him out, though? There will be many people there.’

  ‘Meet him on the corner of Cordova Street and the boulevard. There’s an incomplete building there. Developer ran out of funds and got into trouble with the city. We’ll kill him there.’

  * * *

  ‘No.’ Limon b
acked off when Cutter approached him.

  ‘How do you know I’m not a passenger?’

  ‘Dude,’ the driver said, laughing, ‘that beard, that silver hair, those sideburns … they don’t fool me. Only one person has come to me here. You!’

  ‘Yeah? About that, why is it you are never with passengers?’

  ‘It’s my break. You know how I work.’

  ‘If you do this last job for me, you’ll never have to work again. I’ll give you twenty ks.’

  ‘What use is money if I’m dead?’

  ‘Did anyone come after you when we were on Apple Street yesterday? You gotta trust me.’

  ‘Trust you!’ Limon scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. ‘You’ve never shown me who you really are and you—’

  ‘Isaiah, that’s for your safety. I need you for this job.’

  ‘What do I have to do?’ the driver growled.

  ‘Be my passenger.’

  * * *

  Cutter drove to Warner Boulevard with Isaiah Limon in the rear seat. He checked his mirrors when he entered the street from Riverside Drive and scanned vehicles and passersby as he went up slowly.

  ‘Who are you looking for?’ the driver asked from the rear.

  Should I tell him?

  ‘Some of those men from Apple Street might be here.’

  ‘Hey! You said they wouldn’t come after us.’

  ‘That’s not what I said, but in any case, they won’t recognize you. Those cheek pads you have and those streaks in your hair … they make you different.’

  ‘I’m going to haunt you if I die.’

  ‘You won’t. Keep watching the street and let me know if you spot anyone suspicious.’

  Limon grumbled and cursed but watched out of the windows.

  Cutter drove past Avon Street and hung a right on Cordova. Didn’t see bangers or Covarra. A tour bus rolled past with cameras flashing in its windows. People came out of offices, got into their street-parked cars and headed for home. It’ll get quiet in another half an hour.