James

by Glenn Gamble

“I don’t know, tell me how much he knows.”

  “He knows nothing except your tendencies.”

  Jim held a wing to his mouth. “I don’t follow.”

  “He knows that you aren’t going to get out without an income. He also knows that you bought a penthouse suite somewhere in the desert.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “The only person who knew of my whereabouts would be you, Frank.”

  “What about that Cobra guy?”

  “Pete knows, but he won’t talk. Besides, I’ve been putting money on his books ever since he caught that bullshit case.”

  “What did he go to jail for?”

  “They planted a gun and a few grams of coke on him.”

  “Damn.”

  “He’s still doing what he has to do on the inside. I guess the only thing I can think of is someone intercepting one of Jessica’s text messages or someone followed James down to Arizona.”

  “The kid’s got a pretty high profile, anyone could have followed him. And you should see his Twitter account. The kid loves to tweet.”

  “Damn it, there’s no privacy anymore.”

  “Look, he may not have even intended to give your whereabouts up, but they could have tracked your location on Twitter. Not to mention that his information is in U of A’s college directory.”

  “Fuck a Twitter,” Jim said. “What the fuck is a tweet anyway?”

  “A message sent that’s under 140 characters.”

  “A hundred-forty characters? What’s the fucking point?”

  “Come on, Jim, step into 2011 and quit acting like an old man. Hell, you’re not even old.”

  “I just don’t see how he could be so stupid with his tweet ass.”

  “He’s a kid, all of his teammates tweet. Hell, his head coach has a Twitter account. I follow it.”

  “You got a fucking Twitter account.”

  “Yes Jim, you should create an account and follow me at BigEatin773.”

  “I’m not following no fucking Twitter and I’m not twittin’ shit.”

  “It’s tweet, Jim, tweet.”

  “Twit, tweet who gives a fuck? I got a MySpace account and that’s enough.”

  “MySpace? Get out of 2005, and get you a twitter account. For fuck’s sake, Jim, you don’t even have a Facebook account.”

  “Look man, here’s what I got. A crazy man who just broke out of prison who broke into my home and kidnapped my wife and kids and left a DVD threatening to eat my children if I don’t cave into his demands.”

  “I seriously doubt that he would eat your children.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he doesn’t harm children, remember?”

  “Damn it, you’re right. The whole thing is a setup.”

  “Huh?”

  “Think about it. He broke out of prison. Ain’t nobody escaping in this modern age unless they have help on the inside.”

  “And no one on the inside is going to risk their job letting a motherfucker run.”

  “Unless that guy on the inside has the political connections to hush it up.”

  “Who could those corrections officers be connected to?”

  “Either the governor or the mayor. Don Carson’s in on this shit.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s a lot of money on the south side. Don has always wanted to take over my games, but I was always able to keep him at bay by not going to war with him. Now these two have teamed up to knock me out the picture because they figured out my strategy.”

  “Wait a minute Jim,” Frank said. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with the south side. Isn’t that why you took me off that territory?”

  “Yes, but the real reason is that I didn’t want you to get killed.”

  “What’s changed now?”

  “Don never recovered from that thing that happened years ago, and he’s been paying out the nose to go to war with Steve who I thought would run out of money before it was all said and done, but somehow, he’s been able to hang in for a few years.

  “That’s because I wanted them to spend each other out of power going to war, then I would come in and take over. It worked beautifully until he got sent to prison. His money ran out, Don’s money was going toward the war. It only made sense for him to tell Don about that thing sometime back and that they could not only kill me, but to clean me out of my money and take over my territory too, all while sparing himself.”

  “Now what?”

  “I’m getting my wife and children back tomorrow.”

  “You don’t know where they are.”

  “But he does, and he’ll lead me to them.”

  The Next Day

  Chapter 18

  Jim and Frank sat in a large black sedan parked a few blocks away from George’s Chicken. “Steve is a former marine. He’s going to manhandle you.”

  “I told you I’m acting alone,” Jim said. “Do you have the trail car in place?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he see Steve walk inside George’s Chicken?”

  “Yes.”

  “I hope I’m right.”

  “Jim, we can turn around and rethink this at any time. Look, I’ll pay his ransom demands if you decide to change your mind,” Frank said.

  “I’m not changing my mind.”

  “Jim, he’ll fucking kill you.”

  He looked directly into Frank’s eyes. “Let me ask you something. You know what it’s like to be a father. To endure someone hurting your family.” Frank’s eyes watered. He thought about Frances.

  “I know you know, and for the first time in my life, I know how you felt when –no I won’t revisit that. My point Frank is that you and I both know that there’s no room for rethinking. There is no turning back.”

  He looked at his hands, palms facing him as he responded. “It still doesn’t change the past, Jim. I saw the look in that slimeball’s eyes before he took his last breath. I smelled the fear as blood oozed from his amputated limbs. I could taste the sweet flavor of vengeance the moment he knew that his death was imminent, but when it was all over I still couldn’t change what happened to Frances. I wish I was there to stop what happened to my baby, but Jim, you could die and Steve can have his way with your family.”

  “But if me getting killed spares my family from death, then that’s the price I’m willing to pay. You understand that just as much as I do.”

  “Then it’s my job to keep you alive.”

  Jim dialed Steve’s phone number and spoke through an earpiece that doubled as stereo ear buds.

  “You’re cutting it pretty close. I guess you don’t have much regard for your family.”

  “Cut the chit chat, where’s my wife and children?”

  “They’re safe, now where’s my money?”

  “I got your money, now I want my wife and children safely returned to me, and you’ll get your money.”

  “Jim, you don’t make demands with me,” Steve shouted. “Now you meet me at 63rd & Dorchester in 15 minutes. Carla and your children will be there, just make sure that the money is there also, or they die.”

  “In fifteen minutes you better have my wife and children there, and I’ll give you your money.”

  “You better have it, or else your children won’t live to see kindergarten.”

  Click

  Jim played back the recorded phone conversation.

  “We better hurry up and get there. We only got 15 minutes,” Frank said.

  “Hold tight.”

  “What do you mean hold tight, you heard the man?”

  “Chill.”

  “But Jim—“

  “Frank, don’t say another fucking word,” Jim said. “Call the trailer, and ask if he saw Steve leave out of George’s. Put it on speaker.”

  He called as instructed. “Hey, did Steve leave out yet?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.�
�

  “Hey, can you hear me?” Jim asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have a partner in the back of the restaurant?”

  “Of course.”

  “Put him on 3-way.”

  The 1st trailer did as instructed. “Hey, did Steve leave out the back?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, don’t move until one of you sees Steve. Stay on the line until you see something.”

  “Copy that,” 1st trailer said.

  “That’s a copy,” 2nd trailer said.

  Jim put his finger over his mouth to indicate that he wanted Frank to mute the phone; he did. “Just as I suspected.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s not going to 63rd & Dorchester.”

  “Maybe they missed him, Jim.”

  “You think your guys would miss Steve leaving the restaurant? I highly doubt it.”

  “People make mistakes, Jim, we need to go to 63rd & Dorchester.”

  Jim unholstered his gun and drew it on Frank. “Look, you fat fuck, you’re going to tell me why you want me to go to 63rd & Dorchester so badly. I know you’re not dumb enough to drive me to my death, are you?”

  “Put the gun down,” he panicked. “I just want you to get your wife and children back.”

  “No, I think you know that this is a setup and you’re part of it.”

  “That’s bullshit, Jim. I’m the only person who’s been loyal to you all these years, but you’re getting more and more paranoid. Put the gun down, Jim, please.”

  “Give me your gun first.”

  “What?”

  “Frank, you have five seconds to give me your gun.”

  He saw the look in Jim’s face. Despite not being a natural born killer, he knew that Jim was serious. He handed him the gun. Jim looked at Frank then looked at his trigger finger; it was on the handle. Jim grabbed it by the barrel before looking into his sweaty face. He got the answer he needed. “Man, take the fucking gun back.”

  He took the gun and put it back in the holster. “Geez Jim, can you trust anyone?”

  Jim shot back a blank stare for a few moments until one of the guys requested Frank.

  “Yeah, go ahead,” Frank said.”

  “Steve is leaving out the front entrance.”

  “Follow him,” He said. “Do not let him out your sight.”

  “Copy that.”

  Jim started to un-holster his gun until he reached for it using his right hand. He looked at his right hand already holding his gun, then he looked towards Frank, to see if he had noticed. He regained his composure and focused on the road ahead.

  “He’s going southbound towards 74th Street,” the trailer said. “Now he’s making a left hand turn.”

  “Let me know if he makes any turns anywhere.”

  “That’s a copy.”

  Frank and Jim drove down 69th Street hoping to come across Steve. The man trailing his vehicle updated Frank turn by turn. The last turns were a right at 74th & Eggleston and a left onto 75th Street. Steve drove into the east side of Chicago passing Jeffery Boulevard. Several blocks later, he made a right onto Essex Street and parallel parked in the middle of the block. The 1st trail car called the second car and instructed him to go down 76th Street and make a right onto Essex, he did. The 2nd car parked at the end of the block giving him a good view of the 7600 and 7700 blocks. Frank and Jim took South Chicago to 75th Street, and traveled east. They arrived shortly after Steve and the two trailers, and drove past Essex. They parked one block east on 75th Street.

  Steve got out of the vehicle and walked north to 73rd Street. No one was positioned north of 75th Street. In hindsight, they would have positioned one car at 76th Street and one on 74th Street. Instead, Frank called his point of contact and instructed him to get someone over to 74th Street so they could see what house Steve would walk into. The second trail car drove north to 74th Street and then made a left onto Essex Street and parked. Frank and Jim drove to 73rd & Essex and found a parking space in the middle of the block. The initial trail car stayed at 75th & Essex and the driver got out of the vehicle and walked across the street to follow Steve.

  Frank looked at Steve through his binoculars and he walked down the street. The 1st driver walked down the street until Steve entered a large red house near the corner of 74th and Essex. Jim took Frank’s phone and sent a text message instructing him to enter through the alley and find the large red house that was two houses from the street corner. The driver parked on 74th & Essex was instructed to drive his car onto 73rd & Essex and park in Frank and Jim’s spot to ride with them. He did as instructed and got in the car with Frank and Jim.

  “You sure about this, Jim?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Make sure you kill that motherfucker.”

  “Frank, make sure that you keep the car running and the doors open,” Jim instructed. “If anyone comes to your car that isn’t me, the two drivers or my wife and children –shoot ‘em.”

  Jim and the driver got out of the car and went to Steve’s front door. The driver picked the lock and Jim pointed his gun toward the door. Jim and his accomplice walked through the living room at a slow pace, their weapons drawn. The other accomplice already picked his lock and walked through the backdoor and upstairs. They heard a single gunshot.

  “I don’t know if that was ours or his, but that didn’t sound right.”

  “We don’t have time to find out. Let’s go downstairs and see if they’re in the basement,” Jim instructed.

  “Copy that.”

  The two men had gone through the kitchen and found the door to the stairway leading to the unfinished basement. Jim’s accomplice took a chair from the kitchen and opened the door; both men entered, and shut the door. Then he wedged the chair between the doorknob and the door. They ran downstairs to the echoes of Steve banging on the door. Jim stumbled over the last step and fell face first onto a warm body. It screamed in pain. He gathered himself then looked down at the body. It was Carla crying as she sat hunched over her two small children; they were alive.

  “Jim, get us out of here.”

  “I’m trying,” he said as he cut the rope.

  “Try faster, dammit.”

  “Hey man, shoot at the fucking door,” Jim yelled.

  Jim received no response.

  “He’s been shot,” Jessica yelled. She sat in a fetal position with her hands tied.

  “You all go, go, go,” Jim yelled. “Frank’s waiting outside with his car running.”

  Carla carried both children out the basement door. Jim didn’t remember opening it, and couldn’t see how his wife opened the door, but she was out the door. He rushed over to Jessica and tried to untie her before she received a fatal shot to the heart.

  “No, Jessica NO,” Jim cried. Steve fired another shot, intentionally missing Jim.

  “Ya know, Jim that was pretty clever of you to follow me all the way here. You found your wife, your children, so what, I’ll get them again, and this time I will send them to heaven.”

  Jim started toward his gun, but thought better given that his gun was in a holster. He regretted laying his un-holstered gun on the ground to untie his wife and children. Steve taunted, “Is this what you’re looking for hotshot?”

  “Do what you got to do. I accomplished what I set out to do.”

  Steve put both guns on the ground. “Jim, I’m going to kill you, that’s inevitable, but shooting you would be too far too easy.”

  “How you wanna do this?”

  “In your ass, Jim.”

  “What?”

  “I want to fuck, and I want your last sexual encounter to end with cum in your ass.”

  “I see that prison has really fucked you.”

  He approached. “No Jim, I always wanted to fuck you in your pretty ass,” Steve said. “Now I’m going to get what I’ve always wanted.”

  Jim swung for his ribs, but Steve jump bac
kwards and gave Jim a hard shot to his jaw, and another one to his ribcage, then he delivered more blows to his face before he pushed him against the concrete wall. Jim tried to fight, but he had no strength. Steve had knocked the wind out of him. He turned Jim around and reached for his belt buckle. Jim saw sunlight out of the corner of his eyes, but didn’t remember any open windows.

  Lord, is this what the path to heaven looks like, or am I going straight to hell?

  Jim saw his life flashing before his eyes, then he heard a loud thud as Steve’s grip around his waist loosened. He turned around and saw James standing over Steve holding a thick wood plank.

  “Turn on your back, motherfucker,” he shouted.

  James kicked him in the ribs until he turned on his back. He hit Steve with the wood plank. Steve groaned in pain with each blow to his body.

  “You killed my brother, now you want to kill the only family I got. It ain’t gonna happen, Jack.”

  “James, chill with that fucking 2x4,” Jim said.

  “Naw Jim, he killed my brother, he kidnapped my family, and he was gonna kill you. This motherfucker gotta die.”

  “Listen to me, James,” Jim pled. “This man is in bad shape right now. He ain’t gonna fight you back, but take it from me, revenge is not worth it.”

  “What the fuck you mean it’s not worth it?”

  “Think about it, if you kill him now it would be justified, but then that’s the end of the chapter. I think you’d let him off too easy killing him.”

  “What you expect me to do?”

  “I expect you to give him the privilege of letting him suffer in prison for the rest of his life for killing those two men. Let this sit on his mind for the rest of his life.”

  James cried for a moment as he realized the gravity of the situation.

  “What’s it gonna be, James?”

  “I’ma go home with you, that is if I’m welcomed back.”

  “James, you’re always welcomed to come home.”

  He hugged Jim; this was the first time he ever felt loved and like he belonged in a family.

  “Give me the 2x4.” Jim reached for the wood plank and took it out of his hand, then swung hard on Steve’s left knee.

  “We agreed that we wouldn’t kill him, right?”

  “That’s right,” Jim answered.

  “Then why you hit him like that?”

  “So he won’t run after us.”

  Jim picked up his glock, which was never fired and left Steve’s Beretta on the ground. James remained in a state of shock as he looked at Jim.