“Who the fuck you think you are, bustin’ inna my crib?” the man said, shielding himself with the girl.
I’d seen this scenario play out many times. Human shields were only effective against poor marksmen. The bad guys always seemed to leave their head vulnerable when doing it.
My and DJ’s weapons fired at the same time. Our bullets found their marks, less than an inch apart, on Malik’s forehead. His brain ceased to function before the sound even reached his ears, as two nine-millimeter hollow points ripped through the cerebrum, the front part of the brain, which initiates movement, among other things. His head flung back, and he dropped his weapon as his body collapsed to the floor.
The girl screamed and fell to her knees.
Tony and DJ swept the room as I went to the girl and knelt before her. “Is anyone else in the house?” I asked urgently, picking up Malik’s handgun.
She was gasping for air, unable to form words. I took her by the shoulders and shook her a little.
“Is there anyone else?” I asked more forcefully.
“No!” she shouted.
“Get your clothes,” I told her. “Hurry!”
She disappeared down the hall, then returned quickly, pulling a tank top over her head, but still naked below the waist.
“Let’s get out of here!” DJ shouted.
I took the girl by the elbow and guided her past the dead men at the doorway, down the steps, and out to my car. Tony got her in the backseat and slid her over roughly as he got in beside her. DJ and I got in front and as soon as I put the still-idling car in gear, I stomped the accelerator.
Three minutes and five more dead. Fifteen men dead in all. I didn’t know how big the Lake Boyz gang was, but losing their leader, his second, his three lieutenants, and ten foot soldiers in one night was going to put a serious hurt on their ability and will to do much of anything. Not to mention the drop in income from losing their drug dealers and prostitutes.
“Who are you guys?” the woman asked, struggling to get her shorts on in the backseat.
DJ turned in his seat. “I’m the judge,” he said. “That guy beside you is the jury.”
“And I’m the executioner,” I said, as I turned south on Cleveland.
I slowed the car and took stock of what we’d done. Fifteen of the Lake Boyz gang were now dead, three of their street dealers were probably in jail by now, and half a dozen of their hookers were off the streets and safe.
“Where are you taking me?” the girl asked, fear rising in her voice.
“I can take you to the Pine Manor area,” I replied. “Or out to Isle of Palms…Maria, Bella, and several others are there.”
“You’re him,” she said.
I glanced back at her in the mirror.
“El gran hombre blanco,” she breathed. “Maria called me, just before one of those cabrons picked me up. She said to go to Isle of Palms.”
“Would you like to go there?” Tony asked her softly. “It’s a rehab center. You’ll be safe and the people there can help you.”
In the mirror, I saw her look at each of us in turn. Then she caught my eyes in the mirror and slowly nodded. “Si, por favor.”
I handed my cellphone to DJ. “Pull up the number to the clinic and make the call.”
He did and handed me the phone. Cat answered after several rings.
“It’s Jesse,” I said. “We have one more for you tonight.”
“I thought you’d stopped,” she replied.
Two police cars flew past, headed north with their lights on. I glanced in the mirror. The Hispanic girl worked for MS-13—the other half of this gang war. They were still alive and well, minus a few street dealers and prostitutes. That is, unless they’d gone after Callie while Billy was watching over her. That would definitely result in a change in the balance of power.
“No, Cat,” I said. “Our job is only halfway complete.”
After retrieving the other cars, we went back to the marina. Dawn wasn’t far off. Shutting off the car’s engine, I suddenly felt very tired.
I got out and saw Mark, leaning against his pickup, smoking a cigarette.
“Is that it?” he asked when I approached.
“For tonight,” I said. “There may be more tomorrow night.”
There was a click from inside Mark’s car, and then a staticky voice announced, “Juliet four, multiple one-eighty-seven. Five dead, including Malik Taylor.”
Mark reached inside for a moment. “That’s a police scanner,” he said, straightening and looking me in the eye. “Am I a conspirator to multiple murders? That’s the fourth one in the last hour. All up in the Harlem Lakes area.”
“No, brother,” I said, shaking my head. “The only thing you’re guilty of is taking a bunch of women who needed help to a place where they can get it.”
“That was you three,” he said, jerking a thumb toward his truck’s open door. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
I didn’t say anything. Tony and DJ stood behind me, on either side.
Mark looked at them and then back at me. “You just wiped out the Lake Boyz gang.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. “I’m tired and going to bed.”
The three of us moved toward the docks.
“Jesse, wait.”
I turned back to face Mark.
“Semper Fi,” he said. “If you need help tomorrow, you know how to reach me.”
I nodded. Then we went down the dock to where the boats were tied up on opposite sides of the T-head.
“Tomorrow night?” Tony asked. “We hit MS-13?”
“We only have one full name to go on,” I said. “Diego Alturaz is the head of the gang here. His top lieutenant is someone named Esteban. And I’m sure Razor wasn’t given that name by his parents.”
“It’s a start,” DJ offered.
“Billy’s been watching over a girl here,” I said. “She’s been targeted by
