MOB RULES

by Richard Nesbitt

  They entered the room and saw three men lying on their bellies. They were all staring up in fear as the SWAT team entered. Three officers quickly descended upon the men, dropping a knee roughly on top of their backs. Three other officers rushed to grab the prisoner’s arms and within seconds they had the men cuffed. They patted them down to ensure no other firearms or knives were hidden. The weapons that lay on the carpet were scooped up and brought out of the room.

  “Second floor clear!” Came a squawk over all of their headsets. “House clear!”

  Fanning entered the bedroom and holstered his pistol.

  “Who’s the head guy here?!” He shouted.

  “Man, fuck you!” One of them answered. “Ain’t no head guy! We wasn’t doing shit!”

  “Where is Harris?!” He screamed at the man.

  “What?!”

  “Where is the police captain!?” Fanning yelled again.

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

  Fanning dropped a knee on his back and grabbed a fistful of hair. He pulled viciously, lifting the man’s head from the carpet.

  “Where’s the cop you have?! I’m not going to ask again!” He growled.

  “I don’t know nothing about no cop, man!” The young man cried. “Why you come in shooting us up!?”

  “Where’s the cop you kidnapped!?” He yelled again.

  “There ain’t no fucking cop! What are you talking about!?”

  “Sir,” a team member stood behind him. “The house is clear. Nothing.”

  “Sweep the place for the phone. Find it,” Fanning ordered.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Several black and whites had arrived and there were police swarming the premises now that the area was secured.

  Medics tended to the bodies of the fallen thugs, placing them on gurneys as ambulances arrived on the scene.

  The three cuffed men were dragged over and put in a sitting position, their backs against the far wall of the room.

  Within moments, a uniformed officer appeared atop the stairs. He held a plastic zip lock bag at arm’s length. Inside the bag was a cell phone.

  “Front yard,” he said to the SWAT chief.

  “Front yard? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Fanning hissed. The picture started to come into focus. They had been played. Set up. Whoever had Harris had dumped his cell phone here knowing full well that they would find out this was a gang house. Whoever had Harris knew damn well that they would take the place down.

  “Fuck!” he yelled to nobody in particular. Fanning trudged down the stairs, towards the front door and out into the street. Deputy Commissioner Shannon was with the EMT’s as they worked on the fallen officer. Standing next to him was the Able team leader.

  “Who?” Fanning asked solemnly.

  “Sanchez,” the man answered softly. His bottom lip quivered and he struggled for control.

  One of the EMT’s was performing CPR as another desperately held a gauze bandage over the wound in the man’s throat. He was losing blood quickly and a third technician quickly hooked up an IV with plasma.

  “We’ve gotta get him in now,” the man spoke urgently.

  “I’ve got to stop the bleeding!” The EMT holding Sanchez’s neck spat angrily.

  “Come on, man!” The EMT performing CPR yelled at the fallen officer. “Stay with us, man!”

  The police milling around the area remained silent, watching the medical team work.

  “We have to load him now,” the technician said as he finished with the IV.

  As the two men working on Sanchez walked briskly alongside the gurney, another two men placed it in the ambulance and pushed. Sanchez disappeared into the vehicle as the medics climbed in to join him. The doors were shut.

  As the ambulance pulled away the policemen who had been watching began to talk among themselves. They were angry and wanted to know what the hell had gone wrong.

  “What happened, Jack?” Shannon asked quietly as he motioned the captain aside to talk. “Where the hell is Jimmy? Why isn’t he here?”

  “We got played, Blake. We got played by a smart motherfucker.”

  “So what the hell happened?”

  “Whoever has Jimmy placed the call to Mrs. Blumquist knowing that we would track his phone. Then he dumped it in these guy’s front yard.”

  “Jesus.”

  “As easy as driving by and tossing it out the window.”

  “They knew we’d hit this place. How many bad guys down?”

  “Three.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  As if on cue, one of the medics rolled a gurney out the front door of the house. A bloody sheet was pulled over the body of one of the fallen gang bangers.

  “So whoever grabbed Jimmy has us taking out their rivals now.” Shannon said as he shook his head in disgust. “What’s our next step?”

  Fanning’s face was a mask of frustration as he struggled to control both his anger and fear. The thought of Jimmy in the hands of a murderer while they could do nothing about it was almost too much. He looked Shannon in the eye and simply shook his head and shrugged.

  Both men were faced with the hard truth.

  Harris was alone.

  Mob Rules

  45

  Harris glared menacingly at the three gang bangers who stood against the back wall of the room. If he’d hoped to intimidate them it wasn’t working. It was he who was tied to a chair and awaiting the fate that Rabi had in store for him. And all three of the men knew their leader well enough to know that he would make this man suffer as much as possible while killing him. They knew that they were staring at a dead man.

  “If you put a stop to this, I guarantee that you will not go to prison,” Harris spoke bluntly to them. It was the only shot he had. “But if you do nothing I guarantee that all of you will get life.”

  The three men began to laugh just as the door opened and Rabi entered.

  “What’s so funny?” He wore a crooked smirk.

  “Home boy here is trying to scare us,” one of the men answered as he pointed to Harris. “Says we’re all going to the joint.”

  “That right, pig?” Rabi addressed Harris. “You trying to mad dog my compadres?”

  “Woof! Woof! Woof!” One of the men barked, mocking Harris.

  The room erupted in laughter.

  “Last chance, Rabi,” Harris spoke through a clenched jaw. “Let me go now and I will testify on your behalf. Maybe you get a shorter sentence. But if you do this you will burn. I guarantee it.”

  Another Loco’s member walked into the room. He had a camcorder in one hand and a box of heavy duty, black garbage bags in the other. He tossed the box to one of the men who caught it.

  “Hey Julio,” Rabi spoke. “How many bags in that box, homey?”

  “Thirty-Five.”

  “Thirty-five? Shit, we ain’t gonna need that many. Two….maybe three tops.” He continued to stare at Harris, a large smile on his face. Rabi then walked to the wall and grabbed the large hunting knife he had stuck there earlier. Pulling it from the drywall he walked slowly back towards Harris.

  Harris felt his heart pounding.

  “You ready, Juan?” Rabi asked.

  “You know it, amigo,” the man with the camcorder answered. He walked over and stood next to his boss.

  “Well,” Rabi spoke calmly, staring into his captives eyes. “I guess we’re ready.”

  “Fuck you!” Harris roared as he struggled to control his fear. He shook violently trying to break free from the chair. It was useless as he was held fast. Through all of the combat he’d experienced and all of the criminals he’d dealt with, Harris had never felt this type of fear. It was so foreign to him that just experiencing it was a shock to his system. Absolute vulnerability was something he’d never felt before. He was completely helpless and at the whim of a psychotic murderer. He thought of Bonnie and Danny and wished he could see them just one more time. He wished that he could tell them he was sorry.r />
  Harris stared up desperately at the gang leader and tried to control his breathing as he started to hyperventilate. There was nothing he could do. This was going to happen.

  Rabi reached into his pocket and pulled out a woolen ski mask. Parking the knife temporarily under his belt, he used both hands to pull the mask over his head. Only his eyes showed and he covered those with a pair of black sunglasses he had in his back pocket. He grabbed the knife with his right hand and held it out for Harris to see.

  “You killed two of my homeys, motherfucker,” Rabi spoke in a low and ominous tone as he addressed Harris. “This started out as a job but now it’s personal.”

  “You don’t have the balls to face me one on one, you gutless coward!” Harris screamed at the man as his chest heaved with adrenalin. His only hope was to appeal to Rabi’s ego. “Cut me loose and let’s see how tough you are!”

  “Turn that shit on, Juan,” he ordered the man with the camcorder as he ignored Harris.

  The man flipped a switch and a red light came on atop the camera.

  Rabi walked around the chair, behind Harris. He leaned over and whispered.

  “You can scream, bitch. It makes for a better show.”

  Rabi moved quickly. He grabbed at the pinky finger of Harris’ left hand which was lashed firmly behind him. Harris struggled but simply did not possess the strength in just his little finger to keep Rabi from prying it out and holding it fast with his left hand. He placed the serrated edge of the knife at the base of the finger.

  “We start with this one,” he said calmly. “Then we do them all one by one. Then your toes. And then, well I guess you can figure out where we go after that.”

  “Motherfucker!” Harris screamed in fury.

  Rabi started to saw furiously and blood flew. The veins in Harris’ neck bulged and pulsated and his face turned beet red as he shook his head and grit his teeth. Although he roared inside his throat, Harris forced his lips to stay shut.

  He would not give Rabi the satisfaction of crying out.

  Mob Rules

  46

  “Unacceptable!” Sylvia screamed into the telephone.

  She paced frantically from one end of the room to the other as she received the news of the failed rescue attempt. Her face was contorted with fear as she listened to the SWAT commander explain what had transpired. Christi stood with her back against a wall, both hands covering her mouth and watched in horror as Sylvia melted down.

  “And what the hell are you doing about it?!”

  Emily, who was still recuperating from her nightmarish ordeal suddenly felt ill and went upstairs to lie down an hour earlier. Stress had a way of knocking her off kilter and the revelation concerning Harris was just too much for her.

  Sylvia and Christi had sat nervously waiting for news. They were both fully aware of the mission to rescue James Harris and had been told that with two of New York’s finest SWAT teams, the probability of a favorable outcome had been expected. This news blindsided both women with the subtlety of a Louisville Slugger.

  Now, as the sun fell low and the shadows grew longer, an overwhelming pang of dread permeated the Blumquist estate.

  “Save him!” Sylvia yelled into her cell phone. “I don’t care how! Call in your snitches! Offer one million dollars for information! I will pay it!”

  Tears streamed down Christi’s face as she realized how desperate Sylvia sounded. This was bad. This was very bad.

  “Well then get off the phone with me and fucking do it!” Sylvia shouted. “And I want to be informed every step of the way!”

  With that she ended the call and turned to face Christi. Both women’s faces were wet with tears but Christi wore a mask of terror.

  “Oh my God, Sylvia,” she cried through the hands cupped in front of her mouth. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot. “What happened?”

  “He wasn’t there. It was a setup.”

  “How?”

  “Whoever had Jimmy’s phone tossed it in a rival gang’s front yard. We were on a wild goose chase.”

  “Then he’s dead!”

  Sylvia walked quickly across the room to embrace her. Christi broke down and buried her face in the older woman’s neck. She sobbed as Sylvia stroked her hair.

  “We don’t know that, honey,” Sylvia cooed, feeling guilty for losing her cool like that. She understood that for the sake of Christi, she had to stay strong, to stay positive. There was nothing to be gained by both of them breaking down. Plus, as much as she cared for Jimmy, she knew that Christi’s feelings ran much deeper.

  “Come and sit,” she spoke.

  She led Christi to the couch and both of them sat. Sylvia put her hand under the young woman’s chin and lifted her face to make eye contact.

  “Hey,” she said. “This is Jimmy we’re talking about. Don’t forget that.”

  “But if they have him then he’s going to die. He’s not invincible.”

  “Actually, I think he might be,” Sylvia tried to joke. It did not have the desired effect as the young woman broke down again.

  “Oh, honey,” she said as she held the sobbing young woman.

  “You-you don’t understand, Sylvia,” Christi’s speech came in broken chops.

  “What don’t I understand, Christi?”

  “I love him!” Christi looked her straight in the eyes and yelled it. As if the secret, finally revealed, could not be simply spoken. It was too powerful.

  She started crying again.

  “Oh baby,” Sylvia comforted her. “I already knew that.”

  “You-you did?” Christi looked up into her eyes.

  “Christi, I knew it the first time I met with both of you in my study. The way you looked at him.”

  “Oh my God!” Christi exclaimed with fresh horror. “Do you think he knows!? He’s married for God’s sake! You must think I’m horrible!”

  “Oh sweetie, no matter how great a man Jimmy might be, he’s still a man. I guarantee you he’s clueless about that. And I don’t think you’re horrible for a second. In fact, if I were twenty years younger, I’d be fighting you for him.”

  The two women managed a laugh.

  Christi pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose loudly. She dabbed at her eyes.

  “I know it doesn’t look good right now, but if anybody can get out of a bad situation, it’s Jimmy.”

  Christi composed herself and wiped her eyes dry. She smiled weakly at the woman she considered a second mother.

  “I know. But…” she couldn’t finish as her bottom lip began to tremble and she felt fresh tears spring under her eyes. She turned her head to look at the bay.

  “Oh, honey.” Sylvia threw an arm around Christi’s shoulder. “Let’s grab a drink. We’ll toast that tough, Irish son of a bitch and what he’s going to do to whoever was stupid enough to mess with him.”

  Christi struggled to smile again. She nodded.

  “There you go,” Sylvia said.

  The two women stood, and grasping each other’s hands, walked out of the sunroom and headed for the bar.

  Mob Rules

  47

  Deputy Commissioner Blake Shannon paced the floor and glared with anger at the small man seated inside the darkened room. The curtains were drawn and the man had entered through the back door. All precautions had been taken to ensure his anonymity.

  “What did you just say to me?” Shannon asked through clenched teeth as he placed his palms on the table and leaned forward.

  “I said I hope they clip the motherfucker!” Skinny Vinny repeated loudly. “My life has been turned upside down since I told you guys about the hit on Harris! That’s what being a decent guy gets you!”

  “Hey scumbag, that motherfucker is a friend of mine and what the hell would you know about decency anyway?”

  “Yo cop,” Vinny returned the hostility. “You don’t scare me. I’ve seen guys skinned alive, you think I sweat you?”

  “No, Vinny, I don’t think you sweat me at all. We all k
now what a big man you are. All we have to do is look in the emergency rooms for the beat up hookers.”

  “Unbelievable,” Vinny said as he looked towards the other two junior police officers in the room. “I go out of my way to save a cop’s family and this is what I get for my trouble? The guy starts hanging out with the underboss of my family, a man who can kill me by snapping his fingers. Who knows what the fuck they’re talking about?”

  “Nobody knows it’s you who talked,” Shannon answered. “And we all know that’s true because you’re still walking around and not at the bottom of the Hudson River.”

  “Not yet maybe, but we both know that Harris would give me up in a second if he thought it would save his family.”

  “Nobody’s going to tell Harris. But obviously you and Scalaro know who picked up the contract. I want a name, goddamn it.”

  “Well, I don’t have one.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “No bullshit, I got more important things to do than worry about shit that don’t involve me.”

  “Then we need you to ask Tony. Now.”

  “Yeah? Why don’t I just save him the trouble and shoot myself in the head? He’s gonna know I’m talking to cops if I ask him something like that.”

  “Figure it out. There are ways to ask without asking.”

  “Listen, if the guys who took the job already have Harris, then he’s a corpse. Sorry but I didn’t whack him so get off my ass.”

  Shannon walked from one end of the floor to the other. He pulled out the card he’d been hoping not to use.

  “Sylvia Blumquist is a friend of Harris.”

  “So?” Vinny said.

  “So she’s offered one million dollars for information that might save his life.”

  Vinny stared at the man. He remained silent as he contemplated this new piece of information. Shannon stayed quiet as well, letting the informant greedily process this tidbit. After a few moments, Vinny merely shrugged.

  “What good does a million bucks do me if I’m dead?”

  Shannon stared at the man and slowly shook his head. He turned to the two junior officers.