I was hanging with Alonzo, running right behind him, and soon only four of us were left in the center column, still heading straight toward where the twelve Crip shooters were supposed to be waiting in their smoked- windowed Lincolns. We were all clutching new MP5 burners in death grips as we ran. Equipment rattled, adrenaline surged.
The lot was badly underlit and it was hard to see. When we reached the center of the parking area, we finally saw the Lincolns. We moved up fast to clear all three Town Cars. They were already empty. The four of us began scanning the area. If the Crip shooters were here, they were crouching low out of sight. Since we had split into smaller groups it was impossible to tell where the rest of the squad was. I felt exposed and vulnerable.
When we finally. Got to the far end of the parking area, we still had seen no Crip G-sters. Alonzo radioed the two flanking groups and soon all of us were standing in a huddle next to a chain-link fence.
Alonzo triggered his mike. 'This is Thrasher One. We're ten-ninety-seven. Nobody in sight in the parking lot.'
'Stand by, Thrasher One,' the spotter came back.
Then we heard a long static burst of gunfire coming from the direction of the stands as somebody over there dumped at least fifty rounds. It was followed by the short, tight, burping sound of an automatic weapon on a four- shot burst.
'They musta got around us,' one of the cops said.
'We' re hearing gunfire,' Alonzo announced into his shoulder mike. 'Give us a location.'
'We're ten-ninety-nine under the bleachers,' Talbot Jones said, using our ten-code for an emergency. 'Redeploy! We've got men down!' Jones screamed.
Alonzo spun and all of us ran as a group back toward the bleachers. I knew from my Marine Corps training this was a tactical blunder. We were clumped together and out in the open, all of our operation plans forgotten as we ran headlong to help fallen officers.
Just then, a machine gun on full auto opened up. Bullets sparked, pinging off parked cars all around us. We were under direct fire. Two of our guys went down.
I kept running and shouted into my shoulder rover, 'This is Thrasher Three, we have men down!'
I had to decide if I was going to follow Alonzo on this suicide charge or take my own evasive action. More guns opened up and that sealed my decision. I veered off, sprinting between cars looking for muzzle flashes.
I saw one. The gun was firing from behind the refreshment stand to my right. I headed in that direction, running low between rows of parked vehicles. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. I was pretty much just trying to stay alive.
Chapter 23
Suddenly I was hit from behind.
A round caught my Kevlar vest high in the shoulder and knocked me flat. The MP5 flew from my hands, landing somewhere out of sight under a tricked-out low rider. I couldn't tell where the gunfire was coming from. Bullets were flying everywhere. My Kevlar vest had saved me.
With my MP5 lying out of sight in the dark and my shoulder aching from the impact of the bullet hit, I pulled my police-issue Smith amp; Wesson. 38 and crouched low, regained my footing, then slowly rose up to look over the hood of the car. Police in riot gear were swarming all over the place. A machine gun cut loose across from the refreshment stand, firing in long bursts. It sounded like an AK-47, which puts out six hundred rounds per minute at twenty-three hundred feet per second. Nothing sounds quite like it. I heard Lieutenant Eastwood screaming instructions over the police rover on my shoulder.
I started moving again, slower this time, checking my back and protecting my sight lines. I finally reached the refreshment stand where I had seen the initial machine gun muzzle flash. There were three Crip gangbangers hunkered down behind the stand. One of them looked like Harris Karris. Their eyes were wide with fright as they looked for a way out of this. None of them had been expecting to run into heavily armed cops.
I started moving up slowly, trying to get the drop on these guys. Suddenly Alonzo Bell appeared on the far right, sneaking up behind the Crip G-sters. As I watched, he knelt down and got ready to unzip all three. It was happening so fast that I didn't see how I could stop it.
Just as I was about to call out a warning, four SWAT vans roared into the parking lot and screeched to a halt close to where I was standing. T he Crips hit the deck just a split second ahead of Alonzo's gunfire. The bullets from his MP5 barely missed K-Knife and the others. The van doors burst open and four seven-man FBI SWAT teams poured out, deploying quickly.
Ophelia Love had finally arrived with backup. The Crip shooters threw down their weapons and thrust their hands in the air. The parking lot was quickly secured.
Alonzo Bell was caught short. It had happened so fast, he had been unable to get off his kill shots. FBI agents swarmed the scene.
'We're code four,' somebody yelled, and all over the parking lot FBI SWAT officers in flak gear started to hook up Crip shooters. All ten were quickly cuffed and arrested. Two had been injured.
I grabbed a spare Maglite and ran back to where I had dropped my MP5. I didn't want to try and explain that loss to my new department bosses. I shone the beam around under some cars until I saw it, then rolled under a low rider to retrieve the gun. When I came out, Alonzo Bell was standing right in front of me.
'Where the hell did those feds come from?' An angry vein was pulsing on his forehead.
'How the hell do I know?'
'Somebody tipped 'em.'
Just then Ophelia Love, looking pissed off and tough in black Kevlar, strode angrily over to where we stood. She was holding a Glock nine in one rawboned fist, a field rover in the other.
'Scully. I shouldVe known you'd be in this,' she growled. Then she wheeled on Alonzo. 'Are you just bagging Crip shooters or are you gonna bust some of these eses as well? I want every gang-affiliated Eighteenth Street Loco out in this parking lot in cuffs and I want it right now,' she ordered.
'Those guys had nothing to do with this,' Alonzo defended. 'They're just here watching their high school football game.'
'If any one of those dirtbags has a student body card, I'll eat it. Now get 'em out here,' she shouted. 'I'm not fucking around. Do your job or I'll have my guys do it for you.'
When he didn't move, she gave the order to her own SWAT team. They all surged toward the stadium and twenty minutes later the feds had a dozen angry 18th Street Locos in custody and had herded them to the FBI SWAT vans. Most were carrying the new Russian-made AK-100 series machine guns hanging from cords tied around their shoulders, protected from view by their duster-length gang coats. The new Russian ordnance was going to put them in serious trouble with Homeland Security.
The Crip arrestees were being transported to the Haven Park PD for booking as the feds started processing the 18th Street L's.
An announcement was being broadcast over the loudspeakers saying the game was canceled and instructing all spectators to vacate the area immediately.
Frightened parents and students began filtering through FBI checkpoints and moving quickly into the parking lot to retrieve their cars and get out of there.
When I reached our mobile command center under the stands, I found Talbot Jones and Ophelia Love in the middle of a fierce argument.
'We had this under control. We were deployed,' Jones responded angrily.
'That's not what it looked like to me,' she fired back. 'It looked more like an ambush.'
She glared at me. 'Get outta my way, Scully.' Then pushed past me and walked to her SWAT vans.
The entire mess ended up back at the Haven Park PD. Talbot Jones decided to book the Crips and the Locos at our mobile CP in the police department's main parking lot. There wasn't enough room in the Haven Park jail to hold all of the arrestees, so Ophelia Love made arrangements to have the overflow prisoners transported to the L. A. County Sheriffs facility in Vista.
As the mop-up continued, I couldn't believe how lucky we had been. The Second Chance Kevlar had saved all
