Wrong Step (Urban Fiction): A Sinister Syndicate Thriller

by Kyle Robertson

  Wrong Step

  A Sinister Syndicate Thriller

  Kyle Robertson

  Copyright © 2016 by Kyle Robertson. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in retrieval systems, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recorded or otherwise without written permission from the publisher.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown

  Published by Play in My Imagination Publishing

  http://pimiebooks.com

  Dedicated to Alby Nash

  Why I Wrote This Book

  The main reason for me to delve into this genre once more is because my followers wanted me to keep writing gritty tales of excitement, and suspense. I write about strong women so this tale was just clawing to get out of my brain. I get this accelerated feeling when I write. I’m, as always, trying something different, I’m trying Jamaican posses this time, you know, the Kingston mafia. I remember a Segal movie a while ago, and they were evil. I’m pretty good at writing evil.

  Why You Should Read This Book

  This will be a thrill ride of a very skilled woman who gets much deeper into the darkness of her vocation by angering the wrong posse. Her stress will become insurmountable. See what will happen.

  If you would like to talk about this book, investigative photographers, or Jamaican posses, join my blog http://pimiebooks.com go to the Sign UP For Free Book! Or Subscribe. We can talk about this book or any other books in my library. When you join, you a get a free eBook, updates, sneak peeks, sales of other books, and pre-reads.

  Other Books from Kyle Robertson

  Terror on Arrival: An Apocalyptic Science Fiction Novel

  The Final Option: A Science Fiction Novel about Armageddon

  The Platinum Retriever: The Story of Earth’s Unexpected Savior

  Spark of Dawn: The Assassin’s Vindication (The Female Yakuza Book 1)

  The Asperger’s Adventure: The Quest for a Cure That Went Wrong

  Thick Blood Theory: When Conspiracy Means Murder

  Final Mental Adventure (Ultimo Mentis Valebat): Elton’s Ethereal Journey through Schizophrenia

  Celestial Summoner: An Esoteric Paranormal Suspense Thriller

  A Hunter’s Blood: The Crimson Contracts – A Science Fiction Adventure about Bounty Hunter Capture

  The Millennium Malevolence: The Time Spanning Revenge Endangerment (Book One) (*FREE*)

  The Millennium Malevolence: The Time Spanning Revenge Endangerment (Book Two)

  The Millennium Malevolence: The Time Spanning Revenge Endangerment (Book Three)

  The Millennium Malevolence: The Time Spanning Revenge Endangerment (Conclusion)

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One: Odd Dating Habits

  Chapter Two: Out of Sorts

  Chapter Three: Shepards Summon!

  Chapter Four: The Meticulous Mambas

  Chapter Five: The Chips are falling

  Chapter Six: It was All Fun and Games… Until Now

  Chapter Seven: Covertness can get Deadly

  Chapter Seven: Mamma’s a Coming

  Charter Eight: Moira’s Catharsis

  Mission Debriefing

  About The Author

  Prologue

  Sheddi had finally gotten her tip from Japheto. He was the neighborhood answer man. He always knew who, what, when, and where. There was unruliness in his ‘hood from the Ukrainians, and he wouldn’t stand for unruliness. That whole ‘honor amongst thieves’ thing wouldn’t fly in Harlem, especially from the Ukrainians. Stepping there was a violation in his eyes.

  She saw the abandoned warehouse. It was an old Phoenicks Board Game warehouse, and unfortunately, board games were museum relics when teenagers were riding hover boards, and watching UFC matches every week.

  She was there before the illegal transaction was about to take place of the purchasing of counterfeit memory cards between the Ukrainians, and the Italians. She had to find a place to hide with an optimal distance and view to record, and take pictures.

  Unfortunately for her, when Phoenicks cleared out, they literally cleared out. There were no abandoned old machines available, and the main office was padlocked. She was getting desperate until she looked up.

  In the rafters, there was an old ratty cardboard box, her only vantage point.

  “Well, I hope those rock climbing lessons I had in Maui are still fresh after a year,” she said, and went to a bearing beam to scale it.

  She wasn’t a stunt woman or an assassin so scale wasn’t really the operative word for what she did, arduous struggle was more appropriate.

  She fell a few times while trying to pull her body to the warehouse ceiling. She struggled to pull herself up when she heard the door slide open!

  “De vony (Where are they)?” She heard from a large Ukrainian.

  “Spokiyno, Vitaliy. Vony budutʹ tut (Ease up, Vitaly. They’ll be here).” Came from his partner.

  As they went to grab the large crate of contraband, Sheddi pulled herself up to the rafter, and scurried silently towards the box. Ratty was a little more than a description of its condition. When she got in she saw a family of rodents had taken up residence amongst the old Reindeer Rocket Christmas comics in the box. They were a flash giveaway for their Reindeer Rocket board game from the previous century’s Christmas when they were big. They went public in 1997, but when video games became the new, more advanced kid on the block, Phoenicks wouldn’t adapt, so they didn’t survive.

  The Ukrainians came back with a crate, they placed behind them, and waited.

  She heard the door slide open again. It was two Italians. They walked in to see the two Ukrainians. She pressed record.

  “Don, faccia di culo,” one said to his partner.

  “English, Venchinzo, but do not repeat your rudeness,” Don said.

  “But Don, that guy looks like Ivan Drago.”

  “Big deal. You look like Rocky. The brains know to bring their muscle for a transaction like this one. We’re in Nero territory, and we may need to knock one of ‘em out.”

  “Those frickin’ Neros don’t care about memory chips. They’re probably smokin’ crack or dancin to that booga-booga music.”

  Sheddi heard the insensitivity of Venchinzo, and thought, All the Caucasians said racism was over when the nation elected the first African-American president, Riiiight.

  “Enough talking,” Vitaly said. “Do you have the hundred thousand?”

  This was it. Sheddi took out her digital camera, and pointed it towards the illegal purchase.

  “Drago wants his money, Vinny. Verify the goods,” Don said while producing a titanium briefcase.” If you have the chips, we have your money.”

  Venchinzo opened the crate with a crowbar. He saw all of the memory cards, and took out a burner cell. He dug deeper in the crate to grab a random card to un-package. He placed it in the phone, and took several pictures, and began to download a few apps. They all worked.

  “Hey, Don!” he called out. “We’re gravy, capiche?”

  Don saw everything was legit, so he handed over the briefcase. Sheddi did a quick text to her NYC police contact to bring the Calvary to nab these criminals. Unfortunately a new officer under him text back, and her bald eagle alert chimed.

  The men looked up at the box, and in a panic of discovery, Vitaly pulled out his Makarov pistol to begin to shoot at the box!

  As
the bullets began to pierce the cardboard, Sheddi laid back and froze. She was fortunate the bullets missed her, but a rat wasn’t that lucky.

  The rodent was hit with the force to propel it from the box. It careened to the floor in its death throes.

  His partner put his hand on Vitaly’s shooting arm to halt his firing.

  “Vitaly, Cton (Stop)! You killed a rat! The police check everywhere here, and I would kill you if you give us up because of a pest!” He was upset.

  Sheddi began to breathe once more. The bullets were gone. Then she felt a burning searing wet sensation in her thigh. One of those bullets became intimate with her leg by grazing it. She saw her blood trickle on the comics, but remained quiet. She felt her life depended on her silence.

  Vitaly’s partner counted the money.

  “Why did you want Euros?” Don asked. “I had to get one of my guys to do the exchange from good ‘ole U.S. paper dollars.”

  “Our organization is from Europe, and they figured if you wanted these chips, you would do the exchange so they wouldn’t need to.”

  Don became irked.

  “These chips are made in Japan not the Ukraine. If your organization can import, why couldn’t they do the money exchange?”

  “You are in organized crime. You should know the answer to the question. Our illegal contact in Japan will leave no trail. If you are captured, you hold everything, and we stay clean. Call it, how do Americans say, a cover your ass tactic. The only crime syndicate older than us is from the Ming Dynasty. Relatively speaking, your organization is just novachky… rookies.”

  “Just as Don began to retaliate from the insult, the NYC police batter rammed the door! The squad had their MP5s and MP9s aimed at the four assailants.

  “New York Police! Get DOWN!”

  All the men kneeled with their hands up. Vitaly’s partner slapped his shoulder.

  “I told you they monitor this area, Hedotena (Idiot)! Say nothing!”

  Sergeant Yendaz Tanaka entered the warehouse, and yelled out.

  “Where are you, Dedzo?!”

  “Up here!” Sheddi yelled from her box location in the rafters. “Get me down! I’m afraid of heights!”

  Vitaly looked at his partner.”

  “Yes, I shot a rat that sounded like an eagle. No one was in that box,” he said sarcastically.

  “Remember, Vinny, no confession, no case.” Don had to remind his muscle of criminal protocol.

  The police got a ladder from their van, and got Sheddi down.

  She gave Tanaka the digital recorder, and swung her camera.

  “This one was scary, Knocks, I almost got shot.”

  Tanaka became concerned.

  “Are you hurt in any way?”

  “I said almost. A bullet flirted with my thigh, but I’m not damaged too much.” She pointed at the drying blood on her leg.

  “You love danger, Dedzo. You don’t have to go all Green Beret in this neighborhood. Stay with the corporate thieves on Wall Street. They use numbers, not guns.”

  “If I would have done that, I couldn’t work with my favorite cop, Knocks. You always have my back. I won’t forget the day you saved my dog. Another cop would never stop traffic in New York for Mister Sizzy.”

  “My wife would’ve killed me if I let Mister Sizzy get run over, you know Janet,” Tanaka said. “Get me those pictures tomorrow. I think these guys are going away for a long time.”

  “Gotcha, tomorrow. Tell Janet I said hi.” She walked out the warehouse to let the police do their jobs.

  Chapter One: Odd Dating Habits

  It was early in the morning when Sheddi got in from Emergency. All the nurses, and doctors knew of her crazy exploits, and had a deceased pool going for her. She had been in countless times to get patched from the dangers of her job.

  She opened her door at 4 in the morning. She looked to see if Moira was asleep, but her bed wasn’t disturbed. She was still out.

  Sheddi grabbed some cosmetics, and a bottle of tequila. She sat at the dining room table to fix her stitches, and imbibe a bit. She didn’t want to look like she just came back from Falluja when she wore her favorite miniskirt. She clicked on her Bang & Olufsen stereo to listen to some mellow music when Moira opened the door.

  “Well it seems like you had a tough day at the office.” Moira looked at her leg.

  “Hi, Moira. Pitfalls of the job. I guess you didn’t have as tough of a day as I did.”

  Moira went to the table, kissed Sheddi on the cheek, and grabbed the tequila bottle to take a swig.

  “My day was great. Jabril is a dreadlocked hunk who can dance.”

  “He’s Jamaican,” Sheddi said while dressing her leg. “I think they could do that before they get their birth certificates.”

  Moira smiled.

  “He gave me a present.” She took out a bag of ganja. “He called it the ‘ere fiyah.”

  “You’re Irish, girl. Your Jamaican accent doesn’t quite cut it,” Sheddi joshed her. “Did he say how potent it was?”

  “It’s about a few levels up from medicinal, and with your leg wound, let’s ‘fiyah’ up a spliff.”

  Sheddi looked at her.

  “It’s four in the morning, and I have to get these pictures to Knocks today; I’m tired.”

  Moira began to roll the joint.

  “You’re gonna toss and turn all morning from that wound.” She sealed the joint with her lips, and gave it to Sheddi. “This will be your super sleeping pill. Peer pressure.”

  Sheddi smiled, and took the joint.

  “Your logic got me, not the peer pressure. Give me a lighter.”

  Moira gave her a hand torch, and they both indulged.

  ~~~

  As 5 rolled around, the two sat on the couch listening to Reggae music, and were mellowing out.

  “This stuff is dangerous, Moira. I’m on Mars right now.”

  “I just came around Pluto,” Moira said. “It’s still a planet to me dammit!”

  “I know he’s from Jamaica, so does he sell this stuff?” Sheddi asked.

  “I don’t know, Sheddi, because I don’t know him well enough.”

  “That’s a concern. How do you know him, but not know of him?” Sheddi asked.

  “Carnal knowledge is easy for me. Mentality and background knowledge stumps me,” Moira said. “You’re the investigator. Be my accessory for this one. I like him, but I don’t really know if I should.”

  “You want me to take pictures of him-- to spy?”

  “No. Take pictures, and spy on us. I’m going out with him Friday, and it’s to a club of his choosing. I’m a little nervous.”

  “You’re a hedge fund manager. You bring guys like him down every day. You aren’t nervous with them.”

  “There’s one big difference, I’m not sleeping with those twerps,” she said. “When he’s been that intimate with me, I turn to Jell-O.”

  “Now you want my expertise to help you,” Sheddi said “Girl, you’re high.”

  “We’re both high, Sheddi. If it wasn’t for this ‘ere fiyah, we wouldn’t be talking about this.”

  Sheddi understood her friend needed her. She braved crazy ruthless outfits to get the perfect shot, so why not help Moira?

  “Okay, I’ll do it. He could just be a cab driver.”

  “I don’t think you could pay for a five star hotel three times a week with a cab driver’s salary. He knows what I do. I just want to know what he does. Take our picture, and show it to Tanaka. He can put it in AFIS to see if he has a record.”

  “That reminds me. I have to meet Knocks at twelve today, and I need some sleep. Thanks for the super sleeping pill, Moira, but I have to get up in five hours from now, duty still calls, and she’s an impatient bitch.”

  “You’re always poetic when you’re high. Get some sleep, girl.” Moira got up, and went to the bathroom. Sheddi stumbled to bed, and crashed.

  ~~~

  Sheddi walked into the station at 12:00. She saw Tanaka at his desk eating a ca
nnoli. She walked over to him with the pictures.

  “I downloaded them this morning, Knocks. Did that recording come out fine?”

  Tanaka looked up at Sheddi.

  “How’s the leg, Dedzo? The recording was the hammer, and these pictures are the nail.” He looked over the prints.

  “I’m still able to walk, Knocks,” she said. “I’m just glad it’s fall because I wear my mini skirt in the spring.”

  “You’re gonna get yourself killed, kid. This isn’t your sworn duty. You’re not a cop.”

  “I could get shot doing what I love or I could walk down the street eating a peanut butter sandwich, and get hit by a jelly truck. At least I know my danger, and won’t die funny and stupid.”

  Tanaka grinned.

  “You never take this seriously. When you’re bleeding out from a fatal stomach gunshot wound, just remember. I warned you,” Tanaka said.

  “You’re just as crazy as I am, Knocks. With all your commendations you could be on desk duty until retirement, but you opted to head up the bunco squad.”

  “We apprehend thieves in unlawful mass merchandise transfers. I haven’t heard bunco squad since Frank Nitti, and Al Capone were Popular.”

  “You work in New York, and aren’t that old, Knocks, say John Gotti.”

  “That’s not bunco, Dedzo, that’s rico.”

  Sheddi smiled.

  “That’s just a corrupt organization, not a slimy punk. You still have the same death wish I do. Stop trying to change the subject.”

  “Crazy is part of my job. You could just walk away, and do photography exhibits. Crazy’s my career, but it’s your choice.”

  “Well I’m taking a break from all the darkness,” she said. “I’m taking pictures of Moira, and her new boyfriend at a club Friday. No big deal, but I need your help.”

  Tanaka looked suspicious. “Is Moira still out there in the dating pool trying to hold her breath until Mister Right comes along?”