Sandy, and to your stepmother, Alexa. I'm supposed to look out for you. So what'd you have in mind here? We both strap up and go in shooting?'
'Dad, come on…'
'No, you come on; this isn't a TV show. I could end up getting you killed.' Shane paused, then continued. 'We call Alexa right now. We fill her in, then CRASH will set up a hostage retrieval.'
'You promised…'
'The hell I did!'
'You promised to hear me out. You haven't even tried. You heard what you wanted, then made a cop decision without even listening to my reasons.'
'Okay, go ahead. Let's hear 'em.'
Chooch took a deep breath to calm himself down, then he stood and started pacing around on the other side of the glass-topped table. 'According to American, when I talked to him earlier, he and the black gangs are setting up a transfer to trade Delfina, in return for one hundred thousand in cash. But I think they don't really care about Amac's money, and have no intention of giving her back. It's probably just a way to draw Amac into an ambush. She'll die and Amac will die with her. I can't let that happen.'
Chooch's voice was hard with anger. Shane was frightened for his son, but also extremely proud. He knew in that moment that Chooch had become a man.
'That's all the more reason to go to Alexa,' Shane said. 'Listen to me! Just please listen.' Chooch was almost shouting.
'Don't yell at me.'
'If we tell Mom, you know exactly what she's gonna do. She's gonna take it straight to the Gang Squad.'
'Right. Because that's the correct thing to do.'
'Dad, it's a horrible idea. To begin with, CRASH is trying to shut this war down. There's lots of glass-house pressure on them, plus they're like frickin' commandos. They're only gonna want to take out the Crip and Blood shot-callers, and get Amac, too. That'll be their top priority. Delfina is just bait to them. It'll end up as some kind of SWAT operation with tear gas and street sweepers. Delfina will be expendable.'
'So how would you play it?' Shane asked.
'You and me. We slip in there while they're asleep. Pull a raid and get her the hell out of there.'
'You and me. Butch and Sundance.'
'Mom is by the book. That's why she's heading DSG. But you're more… creative.'
'Creative… I see.' Shane wasn't sure how to take that.
'I went out to Westlake and drove around Stone's property. There's a man-made lake with a runoff that goes under the fence to a culvert. We could get in through the runoff and-'
'Hold it. Back up a minute, okay?' Chooch stopped pacing and waited. 'Where did you get the information that she's being held in Stone's Westlake estate?'
'What's it matter?'
'Because the source of that information could sell you out. You could be walking into something.'
'Nobody cares about me.'
'Wise up, Chooch! Your mom is head of DSG. You'd be a great trading card.'
'I don't-' Then Chooch stopped. He obviously hadn't thought of that. 'Okay, so…'
'So, who gave you the intel?'
'I overheard it. I was hanging out in one of Stone's strip clubs down in South Central. The guy I overheard talking was a crazy-looking light-skinned brother with a Senegalese twist. This braid was hangin' halfway down his back. He was bragging about how he and some other Crips were holding American Macado's cousin, were gonna use her to get Amac. I was one table over, listening. When he left, I followed him all the way to the mansion out in Westlake. I asked around and found out the place was owned by Kevin Cordell.'
'Jeez, you coulda gotten killed.' Chooch shrugged. 'But it fits. Amac told me some light-skinned brother with a braid did the hit on Stone.'
'He's one of Hardcore's tights. That makes this all the more righteous.'
'I don't trust it. Maybe they knew you were listening.' 'These guys aren't that clever.'
But Shane was frowning.
'Dad, you and I could do this. If Delfina's there in the guesthouse being held by a coupla Crips, we could crawl through that spillway, sneak up on the place, then break in and grab her.'
'Look, I'm not gonna do this.'
'Dad, I'm gonna rescue her with or without you.' 'Wanna bet?' Shane looked up at Chooch, who, at six-three, two-twenty, would be damn hard to stop. It was a classic parental dilemma. In that moment he realized he could probably no longer physically control his son. 'Dad, this is exactly what you'd do if you were me.' 'No, it-'
'Be fair,' Chooch interrupted. 'If this was Mom being held, would you go to the cops? Would you risk SWAT and tear gas and all the rest of it? Or would you try and sneak in there and pull her out?'
'That's different, and you know it. I'm an adult and an experienced police officer.'
'This isn't about being a cop. It's about being a man. You always tell me that a man has to live with the consequences of his actions. Well, I can't live with the consequences of inaction. You told me on my birthday last year that from now on, you're going to treat me as an equal. But I guess that's just when nothing's at stake. Now that someone I really care about is in danger, you're telling me I'm a kid, that I don't really have a vote.'
Shane sat still for a long minute. Dammit, he hated to be quoted against himself! But his son was right about one thing: Shane would never call SWAT if it was Alexa. He wouldn't trust an adrenaline squad of twenty-year-olds to go in, guns blazing, and hope they could pull her out alive.
'Dad, Amac is gonna try and set up the trade. If we pull her out tonight, before he meets with the Crips, then you'll have saved his life-paid him back for what he did for us three years ago.'
Shane did owe Amac for his son's future, but still, how could he take part in a three A. M. raid on Stone's mansion using his seventeen-year-old son as backup?! If they survived, Alexa would kill him. If it went wrong, he would never be able to explain it.
'Dad, I came to you because you're my best friend, and the only person on earth I would trust with my life and Delfina's. You've got to do this with me.'
Chapter 33
They were driving on the 101 toward Westlake Village. Shane was behind the wheel. Alexa's backup gun, a no-nonsense Colt Double Eagle, and a box of.45 ACP cartridges were on the seat beside him.
He reached into his pocket and handed Chooch two empty clips. 'Why don't you load these they take eight shots.'
Chooch opened the box of ammo. The metallic snick of brass on lubricated steel rang softly inside the car as he thumbed cartridges into the clips.
They drove past Woodland Hills and Calabasas, then fifteen minutes later turned onto Westlake Village Road, which bordered ten acres of blue moonlit water on one side, and a string of multimillion-dollar homes on the other.
As they drove south, Chooch pointed out a huge colonial mansion hiding behind wrought-iron gates still festooned with yellow LAPD crime tape. The estate was one of the largest and, as Chooch had said, sat on at least six acres of manicured property. It was guarded by an eight-foot-high electric fence and lit with xenon lights. Kevin Cordell had come a long way from his bullet-scarred neighborhood in South Central to this millionaire's estate in Westlake. But Shane knew many had died so Stone could make the journey.
Following Chooch's directions, Shane drove around to the south end of the property, where they parked on a side street.
They sat quietly inside the black Acura, letting their nerves settle.
'Okay, you stay here. I'm gonna do some reconnaissance.'
