Mirror Image

by Ice-T

  Al cleared his throat. “I’ll do a roaming message on one and low-battery message on the other. Both messages’ll have a dismiss button that will activate the loading of the app.”

  Casey nodded and continued. “I’m gonna be close by, so right after we get these guys, we’ll buzz to the next target.” He pointed to Al. “You and I are gonna have a total of four targets, and Shin and Champa are gonna have three. For us to get all these guys in the A.M.’ll be a stretch, but once we got ’em, the others will fall into place.”

  Champa nodded. “Right, ’cause once we have one, we’ll be able to track where he’s at and just go to his location and tag his partner.”

  “Exactly,” said Casey. “Okay, Al, tomorrow morning I’m comin’ to get you early, so be on point. I’m gonna stay in the car ’cause one of these guys may recognize me. Champa, I suggest you do the same. Anyone got any questions?” Everyone looked around at each other and said nothing.

  “Okay, cool. Before we go, Jacob, plug in these addresses into Google Maps and print out where they are and what they look like so we can recognize them.” While Jacob was doing that, Casey checked his phone and saw a text from Petrosian asking if he could meet tomorrow. Casey texted him to say tomorrow was no good, but the day after in the evening was cool. Petrosian hit him back right away and confirmed and said he would reach out to him at that time. Casey slipped his phone back into his pocket while Jacob distributed the maps and photos.

  “Okay, I’m out. See y’all tomorrow.”

  * * *

  That night, Casey didn’t really sleep all that well, but he did get some shut-eye. What happened the next morning would determine a lot of things. There were many unknowns—like, what if these guys didn’t have their Bluetooth activated, or maybe they had special security on their phones. He also knew hunting these cops could take a couple weeks. When he got up, he shook those thoughts out of his head and got ready. What will be, will be.

  He got to Al’s fifteen minutes early. Al lived on Mulford Avenue, not far from St. Teresa’s Avenue, in a three-story apartment building in a quiet residential area. Casey dialed him and in less than two minutes Al was in the car.

  “Nigga, where’s your hat and sunglasses?”

  “Shit! Gimme a minute.” Al hopped out of the car and hustled back to get his shit.

  When he returned, Casey looked at him. “I need your eye on the ball, man. Is your head on straight?”

  “Yeah, I’m good, man. I got everything I need.”

  Casey popped his car into gear and headed for the Lower East Side. Forty minutes later, they pulled up in front of a six-story brownstone sandwiched between a Chinese restaurant and a deli, and waited. Casey reached out to Champa and asked how it was goin’. He said there was a lot of foot traffic, but so far they had nothing. Al asked if maybe they should try another target, but Casey vetoed that. Fifteen minutes later, the two detectives exited the building and started walking down the street. Al put on his glasses and headed out the door. It took him a few seconds to catch up to the guys, and when he did, Casey watched him go into motion. Al pulled out his phone and started messin’ with it. A moment later, the bearded detective pulled out his phone and looked at it, tapped the screen, and kept walking.

  Casey called Jacob: “You getting anything yet?”

  “Nope … wait—yes, I got it.”

  “Okay, tag that as the guy with the mustache.”

  “Done, I see everything on his phone.…”

  From his vantage point, Casey saw Al workin’ his phone again.

  “I got another one, Casey,” Jacob said.

  “Cool, that’s gotta be Shin. Al’s still working on number two.”

  “There it goes, I got a third one.”

  Al turned around and waited for the all-good signal; Casey flashed his hazards and Al headed back. Casey already had the car running when Al jumped inside.

  “Good work, man, we got ’em both, and Shin nailed his target, too.”

  Casey pulled into traffic and drove six blocks to the next detective’s location. When they pulled up, he was walking out of the building.

  “There he goes!” Casey pointed to a light-skinned brotha wearing a dark gray suit.

  “I see ’em.…” Al got out of the car and took four steps and dropped his phone. It hit the ground and busted, pieces goin’ in all different directions as he ran to grab them. Shit! Casey slumped lower in his seat, watching as Al put the phone back together and checked it while he was in pursuit. It was obvious the cell wasn’t working. Al kept following his target, putting the busted phone in his back pocket, pulling out another, and getting to work.

  I don’t believe it, this nigga actually had a backup plan—fuckin’ amazing. Casey dialed in Jacob. “Anything yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Did Shin tag anyone else?”

  “Nope … Okay, here we go, are you on Clinton Street near Stanton?”

  “Yeah, I’ll call you back.” Casey hung up and flashed his hazards and Al jogged back to him. “Man, I thought you were done when you dropped that shit.”

  Al laughed and said, “That was, uh, quite unfortunate. I’m glad I brought a backup.” He pulled out the broken phone and started trying to fix it while Casey drove to the next destination. It took them fifteen minutes to get eight blocks because of a traffic snarl, and by that time, Al had dissassembled and put the broken phone back together again. The guys waited twenty-five minutes in front of the building, laying in for their last detective. Finally Casey said, “I think we missed him.”

  Al replied, “I don’t—I think he’s pulling out of the garage in that brown Ford.”

  Casey looked back and couldn’t really see anything. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah that’s him, white dude with black hair and glasses.”

  The four-door brown Ford passed by, and Casey pulled out to tail it. Al had the phone in his hand, doing his magic. “You got his phone?” said Casey.

  “Not yet … keep on him.”

  They followed the detective for nine blocks before Al was able to tag him, but they got him.

  Casey reached out to Shin, who said they’d got two of their three targets.

  “Cool, okay, let’s meet back at Jacob’s pronto.”

  When they got back to Jacob’s pad, they were all pretty proud of the job they’d pulled off and were anticipating how it was gonna pay off. Jacob was busy at the keyboard, organizing the information while his computer pinged nonstop with alerts. Casey sat on the couch and enjoyed the moment; he wished he could share this with Carla, but it was too risky.

  The celebration was short-lived, however. Jacob swung around in his chair with a very worried look on his face and panic in his voice. “Casey!”

  Casey recognized that something was wrong and said loudly, “Everyone shut up now!”

  The room fell silent and he leaned forward and looked at Jacob and said, “Go.”

  “I just ran through some of the detectives’ e-mails and texts, and at noon today they’re running a sting to take down Micky Benzo.”

  12

  Casey looked at his watch. It was 9:14 A.M. on the dot. The whole room was in shock; everybody turned to him to see what he’d say. Intense situations like these were never a problem for him, however. He just calmly looked at Jacob and said, “Read the e-mail.”

  “The header says, ‘Mercedes Operation,’ and it was sent at seven A.M. this morning.”

  There will be a meeting at 10 A.M. today at Puzzle Towers to discuss protocol and procedure with the 28th Precinct. The 28th will be providing six patrol units that will be stationed three blocks away and will go to the scene when called. Our units will contain fourteen detectives: two will be located in the building for the meet in room 312, one will be at the front desk, five will be across the hall at the monitoring station in room 318, and the other six will be on the street. The subject Micky Bentson, aka Mick Benzo, is a black male, 5′8″, and is expecting to purchase 5 kilos of cocaine. He
will be accompanied by John Jackson, aka JJ, a black male, 5′11″. The meet is set for today at noon at the Harlem Central Hotel on 1815 Park Ave. at 125th. When the subjects’ purchase is confirmed they will be immediately arrested and separated into different rooms. John Jackson will be taken to room 318 and be debriefed and then be taken to Central Booking and then be released. John Jackson has informed us that there will also be at least two men waiting in the car on the street. Those men should be arrested when the other men are apprehended; their identities are not yet known.

  The e-mail continued on with other procedural information and detailed how the bust had been set up over the last month and a half. While it was being read aloud, Casey wondered if Mick’s crib was bugged and recalled the conversation he’d had with him a few days earlier. Shit, that would fuck up everything for sure. Until they could sweep Mick’s crib top to bottom, he wouldn’t know for certain.

  Jacob finished reading the message, and Casey started snapping out orders. “Shin, go to Mick’s right now, quick fast. I’ll call you in a minute. Actually, hold on—Jacob, print that e-mail.” Jacob printed it and handed it to Casey, who gave it to Shin.

  “Okay, go, I’ll call and tell you the plan before you get there.” Casey turned back to Jacob. “Scan all the e-mails for Mick’s name and let me know what you turn up. When they’re in that meeting at ten, activate their phones so we can listen in.” Casey paced the room in silence, then stopped and looked up at Champa. “Who’s John Jackson?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think he fucks with Mick’s sister.”

  “Christ, you’re fuckin’ kidding me! Call up Mick and tell him that Shin’s rolling over to see him right now and that you need his opinion on something.”

  Champa speed-dialed his man, and it went to voice mail. “Voice mail, Case.”

  “Keep on him a few more times.”

  Champa tried him a couple more times and got nothing.

  Casey called Shin to give him the knowledge. “Yo, Shin, we can’t get Mick on the line, so I want you to hang a few blocks from his crib. His shit’s probably already staked out, and I don’t need them knowin’ you exist.”

  “Okay, got it. Just hit me up when you know what you want me to do.”

  Casey hung up the phone and turned to Jacob. “You turn up any more info?”

  “Yeah, that Jackson guy’s been working on setting Mick up for the last six weeks. Looks like he got busted with some H and, rather than doing some time, made a deal to set up his brother-in-law.”

  “Brother-in-law?” Casey and Champa both said.

  “Yeah, he’s been married to Mick’s sister for about four months; this is the arrest report and the e-mail breaking down the whole deal.”

  Casey read the report off the monitor. Jackson had been busted with eight ounces of heroin and was pulled over because he was driving erratically. During booking he’d tested positive for coke; when they searched the vehicle, the cops had found an ounce of cocaine and the heroin. When they questioned him, they told him he was looking at an A-1 Felony that carried a sentence of fifteen years to life. They then offered him a deal to get to his supplier. Jackson was quick to sell out his brother-in-law and took the deal. Three days after the arrest, he’d tried to back out of the deal, but they weren’t having it. For the last four weeks, Jackson had told Bentson he’d coordinated this buy with a supposed Miami connection he had. Mick had taken it slow and done all the right things to make sure the guys were legit. Unfortunately, he’d looked everywhere for problems except at his own brother-in-law. Casey read all the e-mails about the bust for the next thirty minutes; then Champa’s cell phone rang. It was Mick calling back.

  “Put him on speaker and keep me out of it,” Casey said.

  Champa answered and hit speakerphone. “Whassup, black man?”

  “I’m in these streets, tryin’ to get paid and wonderin’ why you blowin’ up a nigga’s phone?”

  Champa rolled his eyes. “Ahh, it ain’t nothin’, man. My boy’s gonna be in your hood, and I need your opinion on something.”

  “I ain’t got time today, Champa, I’m runnin’ hard out here.”

  “It’s important, Mick, and it won’t take but a sec.”

  “Dude, did you not hear me—?”

  “Mick … please, I’m in the mix right now, and I need your help. It can’t wait. I only need five minutes, my man’s already in your hood.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line for several seconds. Casey hoped that for once Mick wouldn’t be a pain in the ass.

  “You killin’ me with this shit, Champa.”

  “Your opinion’s important to me, man. I will owe you on this. It ain’t gonna be but a minute.”

  Casey and Champa heard Mick speak in the background. “JJ, go to 124th near Frederick Douglass, behind the Apollo.”

  The guys all looked at each other, realizing that Mick was rollin’ with the one cat they hoped wouldn’t be around. Mick came back on. “I’ll be in a black Denali behind the Apollo on 124th. Have your man flash his hazards twice.”

  “Okay, cool, he’ll be there in minutes.”

  “He better be, ’cause I’m only waiting five. Out.” Mick hung up the phone.

  Casey didn’t have to tell Champa to get Shin and clue him in. Once Shin was on the line, he ran it all down and handed the phone to Crush.

  “When you see him, call me on your burner and hand it to him. How close are you?”

  “Three blocks away.”

  “When you get there, keep a lookout for the cops, he may be being tailed.”

  Two minutes later, Shin was on 124th. When he saw Mick’s ride, he flashed his hazards as directed. “He ain’t gettin’ out the car, Case.”

  “Okay, go to him. Hand him the phone and tell him Champa wants talk to him.”

  Casey walked into Jacob’s living room, where he couldn’t be heard. On the phone, he could hear Shin walking and then the sound of an electric window going down.

  “What the fuck’s goin’ on, Shin?”

  “Hey, Mick, Champa wants to holler at you.”

  Casey heard the rustle of the phone being transferred. “Nigga, what is your fucking problem? I thought you wanted me to look at something,” Mick said.

  “It’s Casey, be cool, and don’t say my name. You probably in a car fulla people, and at least of one them you can’t trust. Shin’s got something to show you, so get out of the car nice and easy and walk back to his ride.”

  Mick played it cool. “Champa, I don’t have time for this muthafuckin’ bullshit, we coulda handled this later.” Casey heard a door open and close as Mick kept talking. “You guys stay here and keep the engine runnin’ while I handle this lightweight.” He could hear the guys walking, then Mick said, “Okay, what the hell is all this shit?”

  “Mick, it’s important for you and everyone else that you keep your cool right now. Remember that plan I told you about a few days ago? Well, we put it into action this A.M. and found out you about to get taken out by the cops this afternoon. Ask Shin for the e-mail.”

  Casey heard Mick ask, “Gimme the e-mail?”

  Casey could hear him reading the e-mail aloud under his breath, his tone turning more shocked as he kept reading. Mick didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Crush … you know this nigga’s fuckin’ married to my sister, right?”

  “Yeah, I know. The thing is we got to think this through so he don’t take you down. I know you probably wanna go rip the nigga’s head right off his shoulders, and I understand that, but this is complicated and it needs to be dealt with in a slick way so the pigs don’t get wise.”

  “I’m so fuckin’ mad right now, I don’t give a fuck.”

  Casey could tell that Mick was fuming and on the edge of goin’ gangsta. “I got a plan, but it means you got to stay cool. My plan also keeps you out of the joint and makes your sister a widow without her thinkin’ you had anything to do with it. You wanna hear it?”

  “Shit, nigga, you writin’ th
e script on this, so tell me what you got to say.”

  “Okay, good, so are the details on that e-mail correct as far as time and location?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How were you gonna pay?”

  “I got a safety deposit box around the corner at Banco Popular. After this, I was supposed to go in and fill my briefcase with the chedda.”

  “Okay, stick to that plan, you go in solo and do what you’d normally do, but don’t take any money out. This way no one will be hip to what’s goin’ on.”

  “Okay, but what about JJ?”

  “In a minute. Now, I want you to think hard ’bout this, Mick. Has JJ been in your office or anywhere in your crib in the last six weeks?”

  Casey could hear Mick breathing on the other end of the line before he replied. “He’s only been downstairs, but that’s it, he usually waits out front to drive me wherever I need to go.”

  “Good, do you ever discuss your business with him?”

  “Nah, I don’t tell him shit. This deal was the only dirty thing we ever talked about.”

  “Okay, well, talkin’ about doin’ a crime don’t mean shit. Once this is over, you gonna need to do a sweep of your cars and place and make sure there’s no bugs.”

  “I’m thinking ’bout that already.”

  “As far as JJ, he’s gonna have to have an accident today. What were you gonna do after the bank?”

  “Head back to my place and lay low till the meeting.”

  Casey checked the time; it was 10 A.M. The meeting at Puzzle Towers was just getting started. He glanced into the other room and saw Jacob wearing headphones listening in while the other guys read the action on the monitors. He had less than two hours to take out JJ, and his brain was already working a mile a minute.

  “Okay, at eleven, you tell him you wanna go early and that it’s just gonna be you two. Tell ’em you don’t need no backup, ’cause you don’t think they’ll try anything in the hotel. Besides, you don’t want the other guys knowin’ your business. As you’re heading to the meeting, I want you to go down Park Avenue, and when you pass 127th, tell him the car’s riding funny and make him pull over and check the front driver’s-side tire.”