Wrong Step (Urban Fiction): A Sinister Syndicate Thriller (5 page)

“You were a United States Army Ranger. How do you know about a Russian assault rifle?” she asked him.

Tyler smiled.

“I was Special Forces, Sheddi. I know Mikhail Kalashnikov made it, and it’s a cartel’s favorite weapon along with terrorists. A Special Forces soldier knows his enemy’s weapon intimately, and I can even break one down, and fire one accurately.”

She kept feeling better about this. She gazed into his brown eyes, and asked him.

“What should I do first?”

“Well first, we all have to get burner phones. We all have to communicate without taps. They’re a syndicate so they’ve tapped your phone already. We won’t make this easy for them. We’ll go to the local bodega, and get seven burner cells to stay in touch. Then we have to find their headquarters. If they’re looking for you, they aren’t thinking about you looking for them. Salom is cute, and she won’t stick out so she’ll be your other eyes to help you execute. Do you have a trusted policeman?”

“Yes I do; Detective Tanaka. I call him Knocks. He’s been in my corer for years, and can’t be bought. As a matter of fact, I have to get the Mamba evidence to him today,” she said.

“When you get your burner, call him to let him know I’ll give him the evidence away from the police station, and if he has their location it will cut our covert actions quickly. The longer it takes to stop them, the longer you’re on the chopping block, and I won’t let them chop off that pretty little head of yours.”

She began to twirl a Locke of her long hair.

“My recorder and camera are on the table over there. Let’s go get some burners, Knocks gave me money to function so we’ll be fine.”

Tyler walked to the door.

“Osei, Where’s the closest bodega?”

“There’s a Korean shop across the street. Why are you going there?”

“We have to get a few burner cells to keep in touch. Do they sell burners over there?”

Osei shook his head.

“You don’t want to buy burners from the Lins. All of them are tagged for the cops for any trial. Let me call Mush. He has some good ones.” Osei went for the phone.

“We need eight. Can he supply that many?”

Osei smiled.

“He’s PR for the Dark Town Rhymahs. He can get more than just eight burner cells. He could even get you tickets.”

“Just ask for eight burners. I’m old school. They didn’t call women bitches in the ‘80s.”

Osei grinned, and called Mush.

“Thank you, Tyler. When they targeted me, I freaked. I may look like a tough chick, but I just play a hard bitch. I’m really a creampuff.”

Tyler looked at her taught body.

“Looking at you, Sheddi, your creampuff must be spiked with whiskey because you ain’t soft at all.”

It was the first time she smiled since Moira was shot.

  Tyler was a very accurate man, Mush came through with the burner cells which he doled out to her, and her friends. They exchanged numbers prefixed with an Idaho 208 area code, and had Sheddi call Tanaka. After she finished with Tanaka, she spoke to him.

“Knocks said to meet him at the Carl Schurz Small Dog Park. Do you know where that is?”

“I was born here, Sheddi. I know where it is. Does he know the Mamba’s headquarters?”

“It’s kinda morbidly poetic. Their main location is in Jamaica Queens. He’ll tell you exactly where when you get there. He also asked me who you were to think this way. I told him you were former Special Forces, and he liked your experience.”

“We all aren’t bleeding hearts,” he said. “We chose to help the distraught exactly like the military does. What time do I meet him?”

“He’ll be the Asian guy, of course, at the park without a dog in an hour. You have time.”

Tyler had a subway schedule, and mapped out his destination. He grabbed the recorder, the soda can in a plastic bag, and camera.

“I’ll be back by three. When I get my Intel, we can execute.”

Sheddi thought Tyler knew what he was doing better than her other friends, and that military speak accented that.

“Do you need any help?” Osei asked.

“This is a lone wolf mission,” Tyler said. “We can stop errant casualties if we don’t produce any extra targets to be shot. I know the Dreads have no idea of us yet, but in order to stay alive you have to stay cautiously smart.”

Osei felt kind of strange with the over paranoid Tyler. He just wanted to get to know him, and thought he could use some company. He just didn’t understand the Ranger protocol.

“I’m preset nine on the burner. I’ll call you when I arrive, call code whippoorwill.”

“You do this on every mission, don’t you?” Sheddi asked. “This whole stealth thing.”

“I’ve been a Ranger most of my adult life, and this is how we always execute any mission.”

“Yes, but they don’t know where we are or even who you are, settle down.”

“The first time you settle, you get shot. After my friend Catchum settled, and got killed by a Mujahedeen insurgent, I stopped settling at that point.”

Sheddi realized Tyler’s mental wounds were very deep, and he had a hint of PTSD.

“Is that why you became a Shepard? To leave the deadly environment, and still help?”

“Yeah. I hated the Middle East, but helping the orphans left a hole in my life. The Mambas are filling that hole. I can’t lie, I loved thwarting the enemy. Hunger, and shelter was just another challenge I could never beat. The Mambas are difficult, but I feel like I can beat them.”

Sheddi felt better with a highly trained psycho-soldier on her side.

“Okay, Tyler. I think you better go to meet Knocks. He’s about as punctual, so he might have even been former military, ask him.”

Tyler grinned, turned to the door, and left.

“I take it we’re in good hands now,” Osei walked to Sheddi, and said.

“Oh, he was born for this, Osei. I’d say yes, definitely.”

                                                                                                           ~~~

Ganja Pop was sitting at his desk festering, and silently boiling. How could she get away from Jabril? Then he realized, if he was struck squarely in the testicles, he’d initially limp too.

His phone rang, and he picked it up to hear a very angry woman, Ganja Ma.

“Maritza! How ya been?”

“Irritated, Adan. I heard a gal saw ya, and tha shipment is in trouble.”

“It’s under control. Tha shipment will arrive next Friday wit’out a hitch, and killin’ that gal is just a matter ‘o time.”

“If ya mess this up, I’ll relieve ya of ya status, and ya life. Ya don’t mess up a ninety million dolllah shipment, and just say sorry, Ma. This is business.”

“So a marriage means nuthin to ya,” Adan said.

“You my fifth husband because they all messed up. I kinda like ya, so don’t make me look for a sixth.”

“What do ya want me ta do, Maritza?”

“Ya job, Adan. I sent ya to New Y
ork b’cause I thought ya could handle it. Don’t make me look stupid in front ‘o tha partnahs.”

Adan always wanted to go higher than just a weed seller to tourists, so he joined the Mambas. Since he was strapping in the seventies, Maritza kept an eye on him. A few dead husbands, and a tawdry affair later, he was coronated into the Mambas by marrying Maritza. He felt very important being in the upper tier, but Maritza was the leader, and he was just her pet.

“Tha pier patrol has been paid off, and I have tha Mambas ready to receive, and transport. There will be no problem,” Adan said.

“What about tha gal? Does she know about tha shipment?”

Adan knew she eves dropped on his recruitment conversation, but he also had a majority of cops on his payroll.

“Even if she knows, I paid off tha cops, and all she can do by herself is get shot. It’s under control, Maritza.”

“It bettah be, Adan. I don’t wanna come ta America ta slap a bitch before I kill her. No problems, Adan, because ya don’t want me comin’.”

With that threat, she hung up, and left Adan slightly nervous.

“Julius, get in here!” Adan yelled from his office.

Julius came immediately.

“What’s ya request, Pop?”

“Ya haven’t found her yet so I suggest ya not be here for me ta call ya; find her.”

Julius nodded, and grabbed a group of enforcers to find Sheddi.

                                                                                                               ~~~

Tyler went to the small dog park. He constantly looked around to see anyone looking shady, and just saw a few homeless vagrants. No one packing or hungry for a kill. He could see any bulges or any looks of that thousand yard stare snipers possessed.

He saw Tanaka standing by a fence of a dog run, and walked cautiously towards him.

“Knocks!” he yelled to him. Tanaka turned to see Tyler.

“Only Dedzo calls me that. I take it that’s your code to let me know you’re Tyler.”

“I wasn’t followed, were you?”

“My team is surrounding this dog park. If I was followed, they’d tell me.”

Tyler realized those homeless vagrants were Tanaka’s undercover team. They were well camouflaged.

Tyler got closer to give Tanaka the items.

“Sheddi kept calling these nails. She said you’d understand.”

Tanaka smiled.

“I just need the hammer. I think it’s about time to arrest Ganja Pop.”

“Oh, we’ll get him. I just need to know their headquarters.”

“This is a very dangerous location. We’ll get him,” Tanaka said.

I’m not just a kitchen helper, I was an Army Ranger.”

“You were in the military as well. Simper Fortis, kid. I was a SEAL back in the ‘80s.”

“Sheddi suspected that. Why haven’t you told her?”

“My past never came up. I don’t like to celebrate my Falkland Island kills. Murder isn’t as fabulous as the new recruits think. I was a PTSD victim all through the ‘90s.”

Tyler understood.

“I’m a Shepard to corral my PTSD. I save orphans, and you save your part of the city. You patrolling Hell’s Kitchen, and Harlem isn’t an unlucky coincidence. You requested this.”

“I patrol the city, but Clinton, and Harlem have that special air to them. It gives me remanences of war, kid. You get it, Dedzo wouldn’t.” Tanaka felt the camaraderie. “If you were a former Ranger, you might be able to handle this. The Dreads operate at the Jamaican Jerk club, but their headquarters is a record warehouse in Jamaica Queens called Round Rasta Records. It’s a Reggae music distributer to all the neighborhood record shops. It’s their legitimate cover.”

“I know that place. They also distribute Ska music, and I’m a Kingston Rudieska man.”

“That’s a newer group. I’m full bore English Beat.”

“They’re an English Ska band?”

“They were in the ‘80s. So were UB40, Hep Cat’s first wave from Cally, but The Police were English,” Tanaka said, and saw Tyler’s bewilderment.

“I like old school hip hop, but I didn’t get into Ska back then.”

“Do you remember Gordon Sumner? What am I asking a millennial? Sting.”

“I remember Sting, but he was rock.”

“The Police was his initial band. Look up Synchronicity, and you’ll find the Ska.”

“You cope with your daunting tasks the same way I do, say mindless chatter.” Tyler realized.

“The Dread Mambas are the cartel I could never beat,” Tanaka said. “But with Dedzo getting a clean recording of their illegal activities, I can arrest Ganja Pop on attempted murder, and taking pictures of their contraband will solidify his incarceration.”

I can see why they want her dead,” Tyler said.

Tanaka took out her memory card to her camera, the empty fingerprinted can, digital recorder, and gave the camera back to Tyler.

“The girl thinks she’s invincible, so protect her Ranger style.”

Tyler shook his hand. “No man left behind, I got ya.”

Tyler left for Osei’s apartment. He had his Intel, so now it was time to execute.