ROLL CALL ~ A Prison List (True Prison Story)
Page 25
“At least give me the $500 to get into the house in Colton Ricky.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Why was Bob allowing himself to get so ripped off?
“Bob, why don’t you get the money from B.J.?”
I’d heard enough. I walked into the garage close enough to Ricky that I’d have a chance if he reached for his gun and said, “Hey Ricky, keep my name out of your mouth!”
I watched Ricky size me up. The Moment of action passed.
Ricky nodded toward me and said, “Bob keep $500 of what you sell to him for yourself. Well go over some things later after you’ve had some sleep and are in your right mind. I’m getting out of here to go handle something with Argenta. Our money is all fucked up with Tennessee. Too many people are involved. Kind of like it is here right now.”
Ricky nodded to Bob and walked out of the garage. He’d avoided any eye contact with me. I turned and watched him walk through the backyard and into the house and realized the bikers and another Mexican I hadn’t noticed, were all accounted for in the backyard watching the whole time.
I stepped back into the garage and told the owner, “Let me talk to Bob for a minute.” I closed the door and Bob said, “You shouldn’t have challenged Ricky like that.”
My mind was going so fast and I had so many things I wanted to talk about and didn’t know where to start… “I heard the way he was talking to you and couldn’t help it when he tossed my name in the air like that. Fuck Bob, I finally went to sleep a couple of days ago after 23 days of grinding without any sleep. How long has it been for you?”
“It’s been three weeks for me. But it’s worse for me because the chemicals are constantly getting into my skin and it makes your brain lock up faster.”
“Paul said we can use his boat to cook the dope in…”
“The dope won’t cook right with all of that sea water in the air. It messes up the process.”
“Move down to Orange County with me anyway. I’ll find another place for you to do your thing, and you WILL make money with me. None of this getting niggard shit I just heard.”
The owner of the residence knocked on the garage door and opened it. A couple of the bikers and the Mexican walked inside. I watched the owner introduce himself as Tim while shaking my hand. The bikers just nodded.
Tim told Bob, “I want you to meet this guy. He’s been doing business with the Disciples here for a few years and he’s really good people to know.”
The Mexican walked over and shook Bob’s hand. “I’m Felipe from Mexico. Mucho gusto.”
I studied Felipe. He had a pair of snake skin boots on, what looked like those old tough skin jeans from the 1970’s and a Mexican soccer jersey. His skin was very brown from the sun and his eyes were so dark they still contrasted with his complexion. It didn’t seem like he blinked his eyes much.
Tim did the talking, “Bob, the chemicals are about to get clamped by the feds and Felipe has a line on them from Mexico. He said it was alright to introduce you to him so you can get in touch with each other in the future.”
I watched Bob write down his phone number and get Felipe’s and still hadn’t seen him blink his eyes. Felipe finally said something. “Did that other guy say Argenta before he left? I used to know someone like that.”
Bob thought about it. “Did he say that name? I didn’t hear it.”
The bikers left the garage leaving Bob, Tim, Felipe and I. Bob walked to where his operation was set up and pulled out some of the product he had left. Bob handed Felipe a piece while he set me up with a half freezer bag full.
Felipe said, “It looks very good. You know what you’re doing better than my people.”
Felipe pulled out a golf ball sized lump from his sock along his snake skin boot and tossed it to Bob. “That’s for you my new friend.”
I walked to the Ford Festiva at the same time Felipe was leaving. At the fence I noticed a black B.M.W. parked behind me. At my car, Felipe stopped and looked at it carefully.
“I used to have this car…”
“This car!” I pointed to the antennas.
“This car.” He tapped the bumper and started laughing.
I wondered, does he mean this car! Felipe stuck his hand out for me to shake and said, “Vaya con dios carnal.”
I stared at him in shock and managed to ask him right before he sat in his front seat. “Did you lose this to the police?”
Felipe nodded his head still laughing as he ducked into the car and closed the door.
CHAPTER 80
Ricky raced the corvette through the canyon and thought about things. He remembered Bob had told him on the phone a couple of weeks ago that Tim had hired on some of his old biker brothers as security to watch his house while the operation was in progress. Bob had said, “That’s the only way he’ll let me use his house. I’m going to pay Tim a sixteenth of what I produce to cover those services.”
Remembering that, Ricky remembered what he’d just said to Bob and felt guilty for a second. Then he got over it. It was time to make a phone call to Argenta to use that information to manipulate the master manipulator.
Ricky got off the freeway close to Hesperia and turned right. He thought about the police station he knew was just to the left. He drove down the lonely road and didn’t realize someone was above him on the hill watching everything and making a phone call.
Ricky drove the lonely road for a half a mile and wondered why Argenta had never moved somewhere else. There’s only five houses on this road that goes to nowhere. It dead ends a mile past the last of the five houses, Argenta’s. Maybe he feels protected by the police station that’s so near. Ricky drove past the other four houses and saw Argenta’s big wrought iron gate. He saw Argenta’s prized 1938 black Al Capone looking gangster car with the steeple grill. He parked in the dirt next to it and got out. Ricky pushed the button on the gate and waited.
Argenta wasn’t answering. Ricky heard the engines coming down the road and turned to look at a caravan of vehicles coming his way. When they passed the other four houses Ricky thought they probably took a wrong turn and will flip a U-turn. Instead, Ricky noticed the three vehicle caravan all had tinted windows. The first vehicle was an older Suburban. It pulled into the dirt lot and backed up against the corvette. The second vehicle, an Expedition pulled up against the rear bumper of the Corvette. The third vehicle, a Crown Victoria, flipped a U-turn and got behind the Suburban. Ricky watched all three vehicles lower their tinted windows at the same time. As they lowered, Ricky noticed each vehicle was packed with Mexicans holding guns in plain view.
As nonchalantly as possible, Ricky turned away from the vehicles and pushed the button on Argenta’s gate. He looked back and focused on the Suburban. In the back seat facing him a Mexican had an Uzi pointed right at him. Ricky studied the Mexican. He had a Mexican flag bandana tied low to his forehead. Ricky scanned the rest of the occupants in the caravan and decided, these are imports from Mexico. None of them look like local gang bangers. What the fuck is Argenta trying to do?
“Who is it?”
Ricky turned his attention to the gate and spoke into the microphone, “Who in the fuck do you think it is? I just got off the phone with you ten minutes ago. Open your gate!”
Without even glancing back, Ricky walked through the gate to the front door. It took another two minutes before the door opened. Argenta was sitting there in his wheel chair.
Ricky watched Argenta push a button and maneuver his wheel chair past him down the slope of few feet. “Hold on Ricky, I’ve got to make a phone call.”
Ricky watched Argenta look down the lonely street and followed his gaze. Ricky squinted his eyes and could see there was a person on top of the hill above the freeway holding a phone to his ear listening to Argenta.
Argenta spoke into the phone. “Go ahead and send them on their way.”
Ricky watched the caravan start their cars and roll up their tinted windows and drive away.
“What the fuck is up with the carav
an of guns Argenta? I could tell all those Mexicans are imports from Mexico. None of them were the local gangs I’m in touch with. Are you trying to scare me with a show of force?”
Argenta laughed… “You thought that was for you? I’ve got a collection that needs to get made in Yucca Valley. If the collection doesn’t go well, you’ll be hearing about it on the news pretty soon.”
Ricky thought, sure, old man; try that shit on someone who doesn’t know how you operate.
“Ricky. Do you have my half of the Tennessee profit? It should be $50,000. Give it to me. Is that a new Corvette you bought?”
“No. I didn’t buy that! I know someone who owns a dealership. He gives me the keys to any car I want to use.”
“How convenient Ricky. Can I have my $50,000?”
“Argenta… Do you really think the $100,000 we got from Tiny is all profit? We’re in the early stages of this business and it’s still developing. I think you should give us the money for this first run to develop things.”
“Ricky… Did you fall off your bed this morning and bump your head. Are you feeling any dizziness, any amnesia…? Give me my $50,000 and thank me for putting this four state account into your hands.”
Ricky laughed and thought, I’ve got you figured out old man. You’re such a power tripper sitting there in your wheel chair that I’m going to ride you like a horse.
“Argenta, let me educate you on this business. The speed business is expensive. There are so many sketchy factors that the cost to run it go through the roof. It’s not like other drugs where you buy it and profit off it. You buy the ingredients, then you have to manufacture the product, then you have to sell it to people who don’t sleep, eat or drink water. Are you getting the picture?”
“Ricky, stop bull shitting me and give me my $50,000. I know how the business works. You buy the chemicals, you make the product, and you sell the product. It’s as easy as 1-2-3. I thought you were a pro at this game. The only reason I gave you this account with Tiny is because you’re Salina’s man and the mother of her little girl. I didn’t think you’d try and take advantage of me like this. Just so you know, I can get the shit already made straight from Mexico to sell to Tiny. So I don’t even need you.”
Ricky stared at Argenta’s old withered up body in the wheel chair with his thick gold chain and cross around his neck. He thought, you don’t care about Salina or me. You only want to get back in the business and being a satanic worshipper has got you back in business with El Diablo. As far as the speed you can get from Mexico, it’s too late. They’re already addicted to how good Bob’s dope is.
“Argenta… I know you haven’t been in the business for a while so let me explain how this last business went. Each chemical we have to buy is so heavily regulated by the feds that we have to send someone else to buy it. To buy it that person has to give up their I.D. and have a picture taken of their car. Do you think we are going to take that risk? Obviously not. We get a tweeker to do it for us but we have to pay them for the service. That’s where the first unexpected payment starts to drive the cost up. Then you have two other chemicals that go through the same process. More money spent to keep our operation in the clear. You with me so far? Next, we have to find somewhere to make the shit. You can probably imagine how hard that is. Hey, can we use your house to mix chemicals in for three weeks where the shit could blow up? Oh, by the way, you can’t sleep, you can’t have anyone over and we’ll have people running around your house with guns the whole time staring out your windows, but you don’t mind do you?”
Ricky watched Argenta pick his phone off his lap and put it to his ear. “Did you hear all that?”
Ricky turned and looked at the hillside. The guy was still there on the phone.
Argenta said, “Is that really how it works? Alright, thanks, I’ll talk to you later. Tell me how that collection in Yucca Valley goes.”
Ricky watched the image of the man on the hill walk away.
“Okay Ricky. I believe you. How much do you have to spend on the house to use it?”
Ricky thought, here’s where I’m in control. “We give the house ten percent of the return on the dope. So for every pound we cook we lose close to a couple of ounces. But that’s not all there is to it. When you cook the dope it never comes out exactly the same. It’s not an exact science with the chemicals. They aren’t always pure on the black market. That means we expect to get a certain amount back and it comes back as product less than we expected.”
“Come on Ricky! Now your niggering me! You’ve got to tell me the numbers! How much did you have to spend?”
“We spent $35,000 to get the $100,000 from Tiny. But like I just said, the dope doesn’t always add up to what it’s projected to. It’s almost always short. This time we got back 20% less than we hoped for so we still owe Tiny that much in weight when he comes back. I’m going to have Ernie tell Tiny the problem and see if he will eat it as a loss or meet us halfway. Now you know how hard this business is. This is why El Diablo took the heroin part of the deal and gave you the speed head ache.”
Ricky watched Argenta do the math. He smiled to himself, I gave him enough of the truth that he has to buy the whole package.
“Okay Ricky. You made $70,000 minus some dope you still might owe Tiny for. Can I get my half now?”
Ricky pulled out $10,000 and tossed it on Argenta’s lap. “I’ll still owe you some, but we have to work out a better deal so I can pay my operation better than I am.”
Argenta put the money away without counting it. “Check it out Ricky. I’m willing to bend a little this first time. But I have to tell you that if I can’t get at least 40% I’m going to take over the account and do it with dope from Mexico. I talked to El Diablo and he told me he had me covered there. He also told me the feds on this side of the border are going to put a leash on the chemicals. That means everything is going to get pushed to the Mexican side of the border. The whole playing field is about to change hands. There are going to be a lot of networks up for grabs. El Diablo promised me pole position on access to the chemicals so don’t double cross me or you’ll only be hurting yourself.
“I don’t do that kind of business Argenta. I’m straight up.”
Ricky watched Argenta look like he bought it. Then ask, “Ricky… Why are you even in the speed game if it’s this much of a head ache? Why don’t you sell heroin where the money is less complicated?”
“I hate heroin. It makes you go to sleep with your head on your chest. That’s not for me. I’m addicted to action. I’m an adrenaline junkie. I like the challenge and I’m a problem solver. Life’s too boring for me, otherwise.”
Argenta nodded his head he understood. “Ricky. I just thought of something. Since Bob is going to live at my house in Colton, let’s have him cook dope there.
Argenta smiled to himself and thought, I’ll wire the place for sound so I can listen in on everything.
“That’s a good idea. That reminds me. Let me get the keys to that house and the keys to the time share in Oceanside you promised me.”
Ricky watched Argenta pull the keys out and remembered B.J.
“There is one more problem. There is a guy named B.J. from Orange County who is trying to pull Bob away to have him for his own cook.”
Argenta remembered the tarot card, the eagle. “Tell me about this B.J.”
Ricky finished with, “He’s got access to a lot of the money in the rich parts of Orange County and he’s trying to incorporate Bob into his program. He’s a nut, but he’s sharp. He comes out of nowhere like he’s not afraid of dying…”
All Argenta heard out of Ricky’s explanation was that B.J. had the best avenue to the money in Orange County.
“Ricky. Let’s pull B.J. into our program and work on taking his networks from him. Tell him about me. Edify me. I’ll take care of the rest.”
CHAPTER 81
I drove out of the canyon on such an adrenal high that it felt like hell couldn’t stop me. I replayed what happened in
as much detail as possible and decided I’d blown a golden opportunity. I should have followed that Mexican Felipe who didn’t seem to blink his eyes, and built a bridge with him. At least Bob got his number.
Back in my territory I hit the ground running. I contacted all of my components to tie things up and find out what was happening. Paul, Tom and Dennis were extremely happy with the new product I’d brought back on a tight rope from San Bernardino. I could see that Paul believed the story exactly how I told it. He had already seen enough of my antics. When I got to the part about Felipe, saying that he used to own the Festiva, he thought I must have misunderstood. It had to have been that Felipe owned a car just like it.
I shook my head, “No, he’s the reason there’s 187,000 miles on it. It was seized from him. I asked him.”
That part was just too much for Paul to believe. I felt challenged.
Telling the story to both Tom and Dennis I could see they thought it was farfetched. They didn’t dispute it, but I could see from their body language they weren’t impressed. I had to assume they thought I had to lie to hold down my territory. As I got to the part about Felipe and the Festiva, it even sounded hollow to my own ears. This infuriated me and as I finished the story. I dared them to doubt me. I felt my pride and honor falling in love with my anger.
I took that energy all over town and didn’t sleep for another 20 days. I was such a bottom feeder that I found myself wherever the action was. Whoever was awake at 4 A.M.? I was there with them. It turned out that other people thought my territory was their territory! They also had tales of their heroics! I gave each person a chance to run down their spracked out program to me and all they had done for the community, until I caught them in one of their lies. On one such occasion the guy was actually using my rules and regulations as his own. He had a bullet proof vest, a couple of guns and a bunch of other stuff he told me he’d come upon from someone in violation. I had already heard how he’d come up on it. He waited until the guy was gone from his residence and came in through a window while nobody was home to steal his shit like a coward. It didn’t match the way he told it so I laid it down the right way. While I physically showed him how it was done, I told him, “Do it like a man! Face to face, like I’m doing it!”