the product and give the shit away if you have to. Just make sure both ends know it's a temporary arrangement.'
Our tags were the next order of business. The extra juice wouldn't mean anything unless it was accessible to us and could be channeled wherever we might need it. That's where graffiti magic came in. Rashan had authorized a major infrastructure project, and we needed taggers on the street expanding the network throughout the city. Anyone who's been to Crenshaw knows there's lots of graffiti already, but we didn't have full coverage and the increased flow of juice through the grid was going to cause bottlenecks and blackouts.
This was an easier problem to solve, and it just reinforced how replaceable Jamal was, and how meaningless his murder seemed as a result. Chavez told me we had twenty-seven taggers working in Crenshaw. He wanted to double that number, bringing in people from the surrounding neighborhoods. That's a lot of kids with spray cans and some juice. Jamal just wouldn't have made that big a difference.
'The only trick with the taggers is we need to move 'em out there fast,' Chavez said. 'There's no point turning up the juice if we can't do anything with it. We need the tags in place before everything else starts jumping.'
'Get whoever you need, but bring them in from EasLos, Pasadena, maybe Santa Monica. Stay at full capacity in the hoods around Crenshaw.'
Chavez was quiet for a few seconds. 'You think this thing is gonna escalate, Domino?'
I thought about my instructions to leave the bait in the water. Then I thought about letting my people die without even warning them of the danger. The hell with that, it was lousy bait anyway. I already knew I wasn't going to learn much from another murder scene. Papa Danwe might miss a couple crumbs, but he'd keep the big secrets hidden.
'I don't know for sure, but I think it might. We've lost two guys already. If there has to be a next one, he goes down fighting. Put the word out for everyone to man the battle stations.'
'Consider it done, boss. And Domino?'
'Yeah?'
'You lit up Crenshaw like a five-alarm fire with that shit you did on the playground last night, chola.'
'Well, tough shit. I did what I thought I needed to do, and I tried to clean up-'
'No, boss, that's not what I mean. The fucking playground was still glowing this morning. Most of the guys have never seen anything like that, and that includes me. No one really knows what you did out there, but everyone knows you're going all-in for Jamal and Jimmy.'
I wasn't sure what to say, so I didn't say anything.
'The thing is, and I speak for everyone-if it's gonna be war, I'm glad you're on our side.'
After I wrapped up the war preparations with Chavez, I called Sonny Kim and Ilya Zunin to arrange a sit-down. Both were lieutenants in their own outfits, more or less my counterparts. Like Terrence Cole, I guess, but unlike Terrence, I'd actually worked with these guys in the past. Relations between our outfits were about as cordial as they got in the L.A. underworld, and I needed to know if they'd come down on our side in a war with Papa Danwe.
We met in a corner booth at a dive bar in Hollywood. Zunin, the Russian, got there first, a little after noon. He was in much better shape than Anton, and his track suit had about three fewer Xs on the tag.
Zunin slid into the booth and reached across the table to shake my hand. His knuckles, wrists and forearms were decorated with intricate tattoos. There were Orthodox crosses, Russian eagles, Cyrillic characters and a lot of other things I couldn't decipher. More tats curled out of his collar around his neck. The Russian outfits were even more into tattoos than the gangbangers in South Central.
'Domino, is good to see you. You look beautiful, almost as good as Russian girl. I am becoming to be thirsty. We must drink.' Zunin may have exercised more than Anton, but his English was a lot worse. He flagged down a waitress and ordered a bottle of vodka. The waitress started to protest that they didn't offer bottle service, but she changed her mind when Zunin peeled a couple hundreds off his roll and stuffed them in her apron.
Sonny Kim walked in as the waitress was leaving. He was small, Asian, wearing cheap slacks, a short-sleeved dress shirt and sneakers. He looked about fifty, but I knew he was older.
'Three glasses,' I called to the waitress. Zunin looked over his shoulder and saw Kim, then frowned at me.
'I thought this is private meeting, Domino.'
I stood and shook hands with Kim, gesturing for him to sit by Zunin. I wanted to watch both of them while we talked, and didn't want them watching each other.
'You know Sonny Kim, Ilya,' I said. The two men looked at each other for a moment and then shook hands.
'I asked you both to meet me here because I wish to discuss matters of interest to all of our organizations.'
Kim spoke up. 'With respect, Ms. Riley, from what I have heard, the problems you are having are regrettable, but I do not think they concern us.'
'Da,' Zunin said. 'Your dead African is no business of ours.' Political correctness hadn't yet reached Russia-at least not the neighborhoods Zunin had come from.
'Two dead,' Kim corrected him. 'And the one this morning wasn't African, as you so crudely put it.'
Zunin scowled at him, but then looked to me for confirmation. I nodded.
'That's right. Two unsanctioned and unprovoked attacks on Shanar Rashan's outfit.' I used the boss's full name for effect. Rashan had more juice than the guys they answered to. I belonged to the stronger outfit. I knew it, and they knew it. The waitress returned and set out our drinks, and that gave them both time to think about it.
'These offenses will not stand, of course,' I continued once the waitress had gone. 'There will be a response. In uncertain times like these, Mr. Rashan needs to know who his friends are.'
'Do you know who is the hitter, Domino?' Zunin asked. He was eyeing the vodka bottle, but I was the host and he'd wait for me to pour. He ordered, he paid, but I had to pour the booze in his glass. I decided I'd make him wait for it.
'We know the outfit that's responsible. At this stage, I'd like to know if either of you have heard anything that might be of assistance to us.'
'You think we have something to do with it?' If Zunin was offended, he wasn't showing it. His pale eyes were steady and utterly devoid of emotion.
'Not at all, Ilya. Mr. Rashan has long valued the friendship of your organization.'
'We have learned of the murders, of course,' said Kim, 'and something of their nature. There are many secrets in the underworld, Ms. Riley, but sometimes fewer than we might wish.'
Your spies are everywhere, in other words. I didn't hold it against him. If he didn't know what had happened, I'd have lost some respect for him. He'd scored a couple points on Zunin when he revealed that he already knew about the second hit.
'So you've learned nothing else about these events, Sonny?'
'Sadly, that is correct. To be completely frank, Ms. Riley, we were not just surprised, we were shocked.'
'No one is wanting war, Domino,' said Zunin. 'And what else could this mean? Is very bad.'
'Mr. Rashan doesn't want a war, Ilya. But if it comes to that, what is your organization's position?'
Zunin remained silent, staring at me with those cold blue eyes. I knew he was thinking it through, playing through scenarios in his mind. In the underworld, there are no real friendships between the outfits. But that doesn't mean there aren't mutually beneficial alliances, however temporary.
Kim cleared his throat. 'Speaking for my organization, we consider Mr. Rashan our honored friend. We will treat any attack on your outfit as an attack on our own, and we are confident Mr. Rashan will prevail if conflict cannot be averted.'
That was probably the opposite of the calculation Kim was really making. If there was a war, he believed Rashan was likely to win, and that's why his outfit would back us. It was good enough for me.
'We are friends with Rashan longer than the Koreans,' Zunin said, sparing a cold glance at Kim. 'We stand with you, Domino.'
'Mr. Rashan will be very pleased to learn of your support and friendship,' I said, speaking to both of them. 'It is greatly prized and will be richly rewarded.'
I poured the shots and we raised our glasses.
'To friendship,' I toasted.
