by M. A. Lawson
Finally, Cadillac and his guys walked toward the bar, Cadillac leading the way. Cadillac unlocked the front door and the three men disappeared inside.
—
The bar belonged to Cadillac. It was one of his first real estate acquisitions after he started making money selling crack to school kids. The walls were made of cinder blocks and all the windows were glass brick, like you see in old-fashioned bathrooms. You couldn’t see through the windows—they barely let sunlight in—and it was like a cave inside the place when the lights were off.
There was a scarred mahogany-colored bar about twenty feet long, ten barstools covered with split red Naugahyde, and four wobbly tables with wobbly chairs in the space in front of the bar. There was a kitchen in the back the size of a walk-in closet, another small room that served as an office, and two bathrooms that were infrequently cleaned. The only hot food on the menu was sandwiches you could microwave.
Kay looked up at the monitor in the van. She could see Cadillac and his guys standing near the front of the bar; Cadillac had turned the lights on. The single DEA camera that was working showed the room from only one angle: looking toward the front door. She couldn’t see the back of the bar, where the kitchen, office, and restrooms were.
Wilson, of course, had to point out the obvious. “If we have to go inside to get them and they go to the back, we’re gonna be going in blind.”
Kay just sighed and shook her head. She didn’t bother to tell him—again—that she had no intention of sending men into the bar. Her plan was to trap Tito Olivera inside and then just sit there pointing weapons at the building until Tito realized he had no choice but to surrender.
Cadillac lowered his heavy body into a chair at the table closest to the door, and through the audio system on the functioning camera Kay heard him say, “Where is that spic bastard?”
Tyrell Miller ignored what he assumed was a rhetorical question and walked behind the bar. “Boss, you wanna drink?”
“No,” Cadillac said.
“How ’bout you, Leon?”
Leon James shook his head.
“Well, fuck ya all,” Tyrell muttered, and poured two fingers of Crown Royal into a tumbler.
—
Kay checked her watch: it was now five-fifteen p.m. and she was beginning to worry that Tito wasn’t going to show. Two minutes later, she smiled when Tito Olivera’s black Mercedes SUV rounded a corner and parked behind Cadillac Washington’s car.
“Tito’s here,” Kay said into her mic. “Get ready to deploy on my command.”
Tito’s driver, a tattooed freak with a shaved head named Jesús Rodríguez, stepped out of the SUV first and looked around. He was wearing a wifebeater undershirt, so the full sleeves on his arms were visible. Like Cadillac, Jesús noticed the plumber’s van with its flat tire and studied it for a moment before he decided it didn’t pose a threat.
Ángel Gomez, Tito’s other bodyguard, exited the SUV next. Ángel was dressed completely in black, like a Latino Johnny Cash. He was six foot one but weighed only about a hundred and forty pounds, and Kay didn’t know if he was so skinny because of drugs or diet. Whatever the case, Ángel was the guy Tito used most often to kill the people he wanted killed.
Ángel opened the back door of the SUV and Tito Olivera—younger brother of Caesar Olivera—emerged from the vehicle. Tito was dressed in an Armani suit that cost more than Kay earned in a month. He was a handsome man in his late twenties with a narrow face and a dimpled chin, and he was not obviously Latino; his hair was light brown and had probably been blond when he was a child. His mother didn’t have any Mexican blood in her. Tito reached his hand inside the SUV and helped María Delgato out.
María was wearing a low-cut black cocktail dress that stopped at midthigh and showed off every curve she had. Kay thought the woman was a little top-heavy but had perfect thighs. The way she and Tito were dressed, it appeared they might be planning to go out to a celebratory dinner after Tito finished with Cadillac.
But Kay couldn’t understand why Tito had brought María to the meeting. Maybe it was a ploy on Tito’s part to put Cadillac at ease. Or maybe he liked the idea of whacking Cadillac with her watching, thinking it would turn her on or make him a bigger man in her eyes. One thing Kay knew for sure: Tito wasn’t worried about a witness testifying against him. No witness against the Olivera brothers had ever made it into a court of law. So Kay didn’t know why María was there, but she was glad she was. If María was inside the bar when it went down, she’d not only have Tito on video but she’d have an eyewitness. That is, she’d have an eyewitness if she could keep María alive long enough to testify.
—
As soon as Tito’s entourage entered the bar, Kay said into her mic, “Okay, they’re in. Conroy, deploy your team.”
“Roger that,” Conroy said. Conroy was the leader of the five-man squad in the second DEA van. He and his men would take up positions behind the bar to keep Tito’s and Washington’s people trapped inside—or kill them if they came outside shooting.
“Saddle up,” Kay said to the men in the van, and they checked their weapons for the hundredth time, adjusted their body armor, and put on their helmets. “Comm check,” she said next, and spoke to each agent to make sure everybody’s mics and earpieces were working. Before she could tell her men to exit the van and take up their positions outside, Donovan, the guy who’d been watching through the periscope earlier, looked through the scope again.
“We got kids coming down the street,” Donovan said.
Shit. It was Sunday evening and the bar was located in an industrial area and surrounded by small manufacturers: scrap-metal recyclers, tire retreaders, and auto-body shops. All the businesses were closed for the day and the bar was also normally closed on Sunday. She had no idea why a bunch of kids would be in this part of town.
“How many and how old?” Kay asked Donovan.
“Four, teenagers, fifteen, sixteen, two boys, two girls, all Hispanic. They don’t look like gangbangers. Just kids.”
“Donovan, you and Jenkins get them off the street. Then, Donovan, you stay with them until it’s safe to let them go.”
“We should call in SDPD to handle them,” Wilson said.
They’d had this discussion before. Wilson had wanted to alert SDPD to the operation before it started—and Kay had adamantly refused. She didn’t trust the San Diego cops because she knew the Olivera cartel had penetrated the force. Her plan was to bring in SDPD after they had Tito Olivera trapped inside the bar—and then use them for crowd control and blocking off the streets. No way in hell was she going to alert the city cops until after Tito had killed Cadillac Washington.
“Wilson, for the tenth fucking time, I’m not bringing in SDPD until I need them. Donovan, Jenkins, why are you still here? I told you to get those kids off the street.”
Donovan and Jenkins, who probably agreed with Wilson, left the van.
“Donovan might not be able to control four kids by himself,” Wilson said. “And if Tito starts shooting, you’re putting those kids at risk.”
“Wilson, when this operation’s over, I’m transferring your ass out of this unit.”
Wilson made a snorting sound, and Kay felt like smacking him.
“Okay, the rest of you take up your positions. That means you, too, Wilson.”
The men left the van and took cover behind vehicles and dumpsters on the street, making sure they had clear lines of fire to the front door of the bar. Kay would remain in the van and monitor the video.
Kay was the only one who knew what was likely to happen next. Just like with Maddox and the judge, Kay hadn’t told her men about the discussion she had with María Delgato and what Tito might do.
—
The first thing Tito did when he entered the bar was take off his suit coat and turn in a circle so Cadillac could see he was unarmed. Since Tito had tried t
o kill Cadillac twice, Kay figured Cadillac had only agreed to meet with Tito if Cadillac could choose the meeting place and if Tito agreed to come unarmed.
Ángel Gomez and Jesús Rodríguez were not wearing coats, but Cadillac gestured to Tyrell Miller and Tyrell frisked both men to confirm they weren’t carrying weapons. Tyrell also looked inside a laptop case that Jesús Rodríguez was carrying.
“They’re clean, boss,” Tyrell said to Cadillac.
This wasn’t good from Kay’s perspective. If Tito and his guys didn’t have weapons, who was going to kill Cadillac?
“You want me to pat her down, too?” Tyrell said, looking over at María. Tyrell smiled when he said this; it was obvious María couldn’t conceal a dime under the dress she was wearing.
“No,” Cadillac said to Tyrell, but to Tito he said, “What’s the bitch doing here?”
To Cadillac, every woman was a bitch.
“She needs to use the restroom,” Tito said.
“No. She stays here where I can see her.”
“What the hell do you think she’s going to do?” Tito said.
And Kay thought: Godfather I. She’ll go into the bathroom and come out with a gun like Michael Corleone.
“She stays here,” Cadillac repeated.
“Hey, suit yourself,” Tito said. To María he said, “You can hold it a minute, can’t you, baby? This isn’t going to take long.”
Tyrell Miller had gone back behind the bar, and playing the host, he said, “Anybody wanna drink?”
Before Tito or any of his people could answer, Cadillac said, “Nobody needs a fuckin’ drink. Let’s get this over with.”
Tito nodded to Jesús Rodríguez, and Jesús took the laptop out of its case and set it on the table in front of Cadillac. Tito sat down across from Cadillac and powered up the computer, saying, “This will take a minute, all the security programs on this thing.”
When Tito turned on the laptop, Kay thought, Goddamnit. Tito must have changed his mind.
If Tito had changed his mind, he was going to use the laptop to transfer $20 million to one of Cadillac’s offshore accounts, and after the transfer was complete, Cadillac would make a phone call to verify the deposit. But that wasn’t supposed to happen—not according to María.
And it didn’t.
Kay saw Leon James, Cadillac’s second-in-command, take out his gun, a long-barreled Colt .45. Leon was standing behind Cadillac, so Cadillac didn’t see the weapon, and neither Tito nor his two men reacted to the gun in Leon’s hand—but Tyrell Miller, still standing behind the bar, did.
“Hey, man, what—”
Leon James shot his friend Tyrell—a man he’d worked with for more than a decade—twice in the chest, and Tyrell collapsed behind the bar.
From the microphone in the bar, Kay heard María scream, then immediately heard in her earpiece, “Shots fired inside the bar!”
“Everybody stay in position,” Kay said. “Take no action. That’s an order.”
When Tyrell was shot, Cadillac jumped to his feet. Tito didn’t move; he remained seated and smiled. He crossed his legs to show how relaxed he was. Cadillac looked behind him and said to Leon James: “What do you think you’re doing?”
Leon pointed his gun at Cadillac and said, “Sorry, boss. Got a better offer from Tito.”
“You ungrateful motherfucker,” Cadillac muttered. Kay could tell by the expression on his face that Cadillac knew he was a dead man.
Tito rose and said to Leon, “Give me the gun.” Leon handed the weapon to him and Tito pointed it at Cadillac’s face. “Did you really think I was going to give you the money?”
“Does your brother know you’re doing this?” Cadillac said. Before Tito could answer, he added, “Your brother gave me his word, and your brother’s word means something to him, if not to you.”
“Well, I guess I’m not my brother,” Tito said.
Cadillac stood there for a moment, deflated and defeated, then he straightened. He wasn’t going to beg a young punk like Tito Olivera. He’d die like a man—and he did. Tito pulled the trigger and the bullet entered through the right lens of Cadillac’s glasses and exited out the back of his skull. The only one in the bar who reacted was María, who screamed again.
In Kay’s earpiece, she heard, “Third shot fired!”
Then Wilson chimed in. “What the hell’s going on inside the bar?” he said.
Kay ignored the question and said, “Wilson, use the bullhorn. Tell Tito and his guys to come out. Jackson, activate the wireless signal jammer and start monitoring the bar’s landline.” No way was Kay going to allow Tito to call in the cavalry. “I want no calls or e-mails going out of that place, Jackson. Do you hear me?” She didn’t trust Jackson.
“Copy that,” Jackson said.
“After the phones are taken care of, tell the hostage negotiator to move into position, then radio SDPD and tell them we need crowd control. I want every street around this bar blocked off.”
Wilson said, “What were the shots?”
“Never mind the damn shots, Wilson,” Kay said. “Make the announcement.”
She heard Wilson curse in her earpiece, then heard his voice over the bullhorn: “Inside the bar. This is the DEA. You are surrounded by federal agents. Put down your weapons and come out with your hands on your heads.”
Kay looked at the video monitor and heard Tito say, “What the hell?”
Since Tito couldn’t see through the glass brick windows of the bar, he told Ángel Gomez to crack the front door open and look outside, and Jesús Rodríguez to look out the back. A moment later, both men came back and reported that cops were outside pointing assault rifles at the building.
Ángel Gomez went behind the bar and took a weapon off Tyrell Miller’s corpse. Leon James disappeared from the picture for a moment, and Kay figured he must have gone into the office at the back of the bar, because when he returned he was holding a shotgun and a revolver. He tossed the shotgun to Jesús Rodríguez. Now everybody was armed but María; Tito was still holding the Colt he’d used to kill Cadillac.
“What are we going to do?” Ángel said to Tito.
Before Tito could answer, Leon James said, “I can’t believe you led the fuckin’ cops here. How did they know this thing was going down?”
“I don’t know. Shut up so I can think,” Tito said.
“No way am I going back inside,” Leon said.
“Shut up!” Tito screamed. He stood there for a moment with his eyes closed, then pulled out his cell phone. Kay didn’t know who he was planning to call, maybe his big brother, but when he saw he didn’t have a signal, he yelled, “Son of a bitch!” and flung the phone at the bottles behind the bar.
Kay laughed.
“Inside the bar,” Wilson repeated, using the bullhorn. “You are surrounded. Come out with your hands on top of your heads.”
Tito turned to his men and said, “You guys do what you want, but I’m getting out of here.” Then he grabbed María Delgato by the arm and walked her toward the door.
“Tito, what are you doing?” she said.
“Shut up,” Tito said. “You’ll be all right.”
He opened the bar’s front door, and with María in front of him and his gun held against her head, he shouted, “I’m getting in my car and I’m leaving. If anyone tries to stop me, I’ll kill this bitch.”
Kay was thinking, What an idiot, when she heard in her earpiece, “I have a clear head shot on Olivera.”
Kay screamed, “Stand down! Stand down! Do not shoot!” She pulled her Glock from its holster and stepped out of the van. She didn’t bother to put on her helmet.
Tito saw Kay standing across the street, the gun in her hand, and said, “Did you hear what I said? I’ll shoot her if you try to stop me.” He began crab-walking toward his SUV with María, still using her as a shield, still ho
lding the gun to her head.
Kay started walking toward him. “You’re not going anywhere and you’re not going to kill her. I have men pointing rifles at you. If you kill her, they’ll kill you.”
As she said this she continued to walk toward him, her gun pointed down at the ground.
“Back off, bitch,” Tito said. “I’m not bluffing.”
“I’m not bluffing, either,” Kay said. “You kill her, we kill you.”
She continued to walk toward Tito.
Then María Delgato sealed her own fate. She screamed, “Kay, what are you doing? He’s going to kill me!” Kay heard Tito say, “What? You know this bitch?” Then to Kay he said, “Stay back. I’m telling you, I’m going to kill her.”
Kay kept moving forward. When she was three feet from him, she raised her gun and pointed it at his head. Tito just stood there, not knowing what to do, then Kay took one more stride and placed the muzzle of her gun against the center of his forehead.
“Drop the gun, you moron.”
5
Tito and María were both handcuffed. Tito was placed in the hostage negotiator’s car and María in the front passenger seat of the surveillance van.
From this point forward, Kay didn’t really care what happened to the three men inside the bar. They couldn’t shoot through the glass brick windows, so if they wanted a fight, they’d have to come outside and her guys would kill them. She didn’t think that would happen, however. She figured that after a couple of hours, Tito’s men would give up—but whether they did or not didn’t matter to her.
Kay already had what she wanted: She had Tito Olivera and a witness who’d seen him kill Cadillac Washington.
Kay had to do two things right away. First, she had to get Tito to a jail as fast as possible. The San Diego cops would arrive on the scene in a few minutes to provide crowd control, and Kay figured the TV guys would show up five minutes later. When the cameras arrived, it wouldn’t be long before Caesar Olivera found out that his little brother had been arrested, and when he did, he just might order a hundred gangbangers into the area to try to free Tito. So Kay wanted Tito out of Logan Heights immediately, and she was personally going to make sure that he made it to jail.
