by David Nees
On his way back to New York, Dan drove conservatively, slept in his car and washed up in truck stop rest rooms. There would be no motel receipts, no credit cards; no record of the trip. Along the way, he purchased three pairs of pre-paid cell phones in different stores in different cities. As he approached the city, his mood became darker. His mind went into battle mode. The mission consumed his thoughts.
He had spent two weeks practicing with the weapons he acquired on his loop through the west. Up in the hills, he had gone through hundreds of rounds of ammunition, sighting in and practicing with the Remington 700. He had also practiced close in, tactical shooting with the hand guns. After each session Dan collected all the spent brass and put them in plastic bags. No bullets or casings would ever be found at Lisa and Rob’s farm. The brass would be discarded many states away from the ranch.
A list grew in Dan’s mind of those who he would go after. That list included Joey and anyone else close to him that was involved. He wasn’t naïve; there would be other casualties in Vincent’s crew as well. They would pay the price for the path they took. Not many gangsters lived to a ripe old age. Dan would make sure that several of them didn’t.
When he got to the city his first step was to stash the car. He rented a parking space in a garage in New Jersey, paying for six months rent in advance. Then he found a monthly apartment rental in Queens, in a run-down area where characters came and went and no one asked questions.
He hadn’t made a thorough plan. In the military, battlefield actions always started out with a careful plan, but they rarely survived the first encounter with the enemy. He would have to improvise along the way.
Chapter 14
Dan lay on the bed in his apartment after shooting Angelo from the rooftop. It hadn’t been the hardest shot he’d taken as a sniper. Everyone in the crew would wonder what was going on. Was this an attack by one of the Latino or Russian gangs? Was someone going after Joey and just missed? He knew Joey would be on the alert with death coming so close. He was a big man when he had muscle on his side. Now death had struck someone standing next to him, out of nowhere. Joey would now be looking over his shoulder.
After arriving back in New York, he had spent weeks studying the movements of the crew: where they hung out, where they picked up money and dropped it off, where the gambling took place, and who the bookies were. As the patterns took shape, the plan began to form in Dan’s mind.
The mob was all about the money in the end so he would attack their cash flow. There would be retribution and death, but he was going to hit them economically first. His plan was to work his way up the hierarchy of the gang. He wanted them to know fear, fear like they struck in others.
He took a deep breath and got up, pulled his rifle out of the case, dismantled and cleaned it. When he was done, he collected all the cleaning materials and carefully packed them away in a plastic bag. This would be discarded in some trash can at some distant subway station. Then he sprayed room deodorant around the room to take away the distinctive smell of the Hoppes cleaning fluid. It was a pungent, metallic smell almost like being in a metalworking shop. The odor brought back so many memories of his time as a sniper. They would all be back safe from a mission with some downtime ahead, maybe only eight hours, maybe twenty-four. One of the ritual chores was cleaning his weapon. He always relished that time before he had to shut down parts of his mind to go hunting on the battlefield.
Just like in Iraq, only now I’m hunting bad guys here in my own neighborhood.
Then Dan put on his old man’s disguise: balding head, gray hair, glasses, old, rumpled clothes, and broken down shoes that had seen better days. After checking himself in the mirror, he quietly went out the back stairs and into the streets. He was headed to his old neighborhood. He wanted to check out the reaction to the shooting and to do some recon on the associates that collected the numbers money each week. Knocking off the numbers runners would be his first economic assault on the crew.
Chapter 15
Doreen was at Tommy’s shop Friday afternoon. They planned to go away for the weekend, out on the Island. She had allowed Tommy into her life more and more. When she had returned to New York and reconnected, she hadn’t known what to expect. It had been kind of like going to a high school reunion and looking up an old flame—it could result in a disaster. What she had discovered was that her interest in Tommy, which had remained with her after school, did not disappoint upon reengagement. He was a fresh alternative to the stuffed shirts she worked with. She was a blue collar girl at heart and Tommy fit her style. He was smart, if not well schooled, and didn’t try to be a big shot. He was also a gentle man. She liked that.
“Come on Tommy,” she said, “let Emilio finish and close the shop, I want to go.”
“Give me a minute. I have to get to a stopping point. It’s a good thing this guy doesn’t expect his car back until later next week.”
Just then Joey walked into the service bay. “Tommy, I gotta talk to you.”
“In a minute.” Tommy looked out from under the hood.
“Not in a minute. I need to talk to you now. I don’t have time to waste.”
Tommy closed the car hood and came over to Joey. “All right, what’s so important it can’t wait a minute?”
“You remember the shooting last week?”
“The one at the Gardens?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“Isn’t that between you and the other gangs? What the hell do I know about it?”
“I want to know if Danny’s back in town.”
“I told you before I haven’t talked to him. You think Dan had something to do with that? That’s nuts? No one’s seen or heard from him for over six months.”
“But you’d hear from him if he came back?”
“Maybe, but I haven’t, so I don’t know anything about where he is. You still worried about him?”
“It’s the things he was saying before he left. Talk like that don’t help.”
Just then Doreen stepped out from behind a car. “Joey, what are you doing here?”
“None of your business, Doreen. Me and Tommy was just having a private talk.”
“You’re worried about Dan? Why? Did you have something to do with Rita’s death?” Doreen looked at him sharply.
“I told you, this is between me and Tommy,” Joey said.
“Yeah you told me, but that doesn’t make it so.”
“Just mind your own business,” Joey said.
Doreen’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe you don’t get it that some people can’t be pushed around.”
“Doreen, take it easy,” Tommy said.
“You should listen to Tommy.” Joey took a step forward. “You don’t want to stick your nose where it don’t belong.”
“Joey, don’t threaten me. I’m not some neighborhood honey. I don’t live in your world any more. I work for a large law firm in Manhattan. They take care of their own. They don’t like their employees to be threatened—by cops or gangsters.”
Joey just stared back at Doreen. She refused to flinch. He turned to Tommy. “You hear anything from Danny, you let me know, okay?”
“Yeah, you’ll be first on my list to call if the mysterious Danny shows up,” Tommy said.
“Don’t be a smartass!” Joey snapped and turned to leave.
“Joey, go fuck yourself,” Doreen called out after him.
After Joey left, Tommy turned to her. “Jesus, girl, did you have to poke him in the eye like that? He’s a dangerous guy.”
“Maybe only because you let him be.”
“I think you’ve been gone from the neighborhood too long. It isn’t that simple. He’s a made guy and you know what that means.”
“I know what it means, Tommy. And I also know that it makes him a bigger bully than before and if you don’t stake out a position of respect, he’ll walk all over you. Look, I was bullied all my life growing up.” She took a deep breath. “Now I’ve decided to not let bullies get away with it anymore.
Not even made guys like Joey. I don’t mess with what they’re doing, and I won’t let them mess with me. I don’t have to take it, and you shouldn’t either. Come on, let’s get out of here, I don’t want him to spoil our weekend.”
As they drove down the block, they didn’t notice the old man shuffling along the sidewalk, stopping to inspect the trash cans along the way. He recognized Tommy, and after a moment, realized that the woman in the passenger seat was Doreen.
Wow, Doreen’s back and she’s with Tommy.
He also had seen Joey leave Tommy’s garage. Must be asking about me.
Maybe Tommy could be helpful with communications when the time was right. Dan wasn’t sure. Doreen though, she was a complication…maybe a danger. The gang used leverage everywhere it could, and if they went after Doreen, she could be leverage against Tommy.
They drove in silence until they reached I495, the Long Island Expressway. Finally Doreen asked, “What was Joey talking about?”
“There was a shooting out in front of the Sicilian Gardens. A mob guy was killed. Shot in the head. He was standing right next to Joey when it happened.”
“So why does Joey think Dan had something to do with it?”
“It was a long range shot with a rifle.”
Doreen was silent as she digested the news. “That’s not a typical gang hit.”
“That’s what everyone thinks.”
“And Joey thinks the shot might have been meant for him?”
“Yeah. But if it was Dan, he wouldn’t miss. He’s a trained sniper.”
“So do you think it was Dan?” Doreen asked.
“It might be, I don’t know. You remember in high school, how he got thrown out of some football games? All the hitting on the field, it sometimes triggered something in him and he’d go berserk, attack the other players, not stop at the whistle.
“What you’re describing sounds planned. Not like someone going berserk.”
“He told me once that he learned to control that tendency in Iraq. Turned it into becoming more lethal with his rifle. He was almost kicked out once for not following proper chain of command, shooting on his own.” Tommy sighed. “All I know is I haven’t heard from him since he left. That was more than nine months ago.”
“But he’s coming back sometime, isn’t he?”
“How would I know? He sold the house and his in-laws have disowned him. They blame him for Rita’s death.”
“Jesus. If Dan has come back and this is his doing, all hell is going to break loose. Especially if he’s gone off the deep end.”
“He wasn’t in good shape mentally when he left. I’m sure of that. Everything’s gone. Building a life with Rita—a family, their business—was everything to him. Now that’s gone and his in-laws reject him. Can’t begin to imagine how that would feel.”
“Tommy, we’ve got to look out for Dan. If he comes back, or if he’s back, we need to help him. If he goes looking for revenge, he’s going to get killed.”
“I don’t want you to get involved with this, Doreen. That’s why I don’t want you tweaking Joey, pissing him off.”
“I told you, standing up to Joey is the only thing he understands. I want him to think twice about fucking with me, or you. Leverage is important with these punks, you know that. I’m doing this for a purpose. And, besides, I am involved…because you’re involved.” She reached over and kissed him on the cheek. He turned and she gave him a full, deep kiss. As she pulled him to her, he swerved violently across the road. Horns blared and cars hit the brakes.
“Look out where you’re going,” Doreen shouted and laughed as she sat back in her seat.
Tommy gasped for breath. “You got to give me some warning before you stick your tongue down my throat.”
“So, you don’t like my kisses?” She leaned over to him again with a mischievous look in her eyes.
“I love them. Let’s figure out how we can do this while I stay on the road.” He gave her a lecherous look. “There’s other things we can try that let me keep driving.”
“Later, big boy. I’m not that kind of girl.” But she gave him a seductive look.
“Mmmm. I’m looking forward to that.”
Chapter 16
“So what’d you find out from this guy Tommy?” Vincent asked Joey.
“He says he hasn’t heard from him since he left town.”
“You think he’s telling the truth?”
“Yeah. I didn’t get a chance to press him, we got interrupted. Some chick, I think she’s his girlfriend.”
“So you let a skirt get in the way of doing what I sent you to do?” Vincent’s question held a hint of danger.
“She works for a big-ass law firm in Manhattan. What the hell am I supposed to do, beat her up?”
“Don’t get smart with me. You go from being out of control to being too easy. You need to find the middle ground. You get respect because of who you are, and if you don’t, you make sure that person learns to respect you. And it doesn’t take blowing up the fucking neighborhood to do it. You understand?”
“I’m trying, boss. I really am. Things have been going pretty good since Dan left, haven’t they? I mean, everything’s peaceful, like you want, and the money’s flowing. Ain’t I earning like you asked?”
“Yeah. But something’s up. Angelo getting whacked, right outside my restaurant…that ain’t right. I need to get to the bottom of it. People are asking me about it. The Latinos say they didn’t have anything to do with it. The blacks, the Russians say the same. No one wants a war. You say no one had it in for Angelo so the trail leads to nowhere except to Dan, and you tell me that’s a dead end. I can’t live with that.”
“So whaddaya want me to do? If Tommy doesn’t know anything, what do I do?”
“Lean on him. Make sure he doesn’t and make sure he respects you. He needs to let you know if he hears from Dan. If he’s back, I’m guessing there’ll be more trouble…and you’ll be in his sights.” Vincent knew that last comment would remain in Joey’s head as he dismissed him.
Dan watched the runner going from business to business, stopping in restaurants, picking up the money and taking down the numbers. He would finish his route and then drop the numbers and money off with the bookie. Dan shuffled unnoticed along the route, sometimes ahead, most of the time behind the runner. He was just part of the background scene of the city, an old man checking out trash cans as he wandered the streets—probably homeless, certainly harmless and of no interest to those around him. Even though Dan was six feet tall and solidly built, he had perfected a stooped shuffle that disguised his height and strength when he walked. The key was to take on the role, the persona of the disguise—become the disguise.
The next week, Dan showed up on the street, slightly balding, with thin blond hair. He had a false nose and a chin extension that gave him a heavier jaw line. False teeth and glasses rounded out his disguise. It was a bland look with nothing memorable about it.
He carried his 9mm and .22, both with their suppressors, in holsters under his windbreaker. The 9mm shot a sub-sonic round which made the suppressor more effective. The .22 pistol had a short, three inch barrel which kept its round sub-sonic as well. It was almost as quiet as a finger snap. As the man left his last stop, Dan sidled up to his right side and grabbed his upper arm. The man jerked, trying to turn to Dan.
“Keep walking. I have a silenced pistol pointed at your ribs. I can put a bullet in you without anyone hearing and just walk away while you bleed out on the sidewalk.”
The courier, still trying to look at Dan, started walking again. He gripped his bag tightly in his left hand.
“That’s better. Now we’re walking along like old friends and we’re going to turn into that alley coming up.” They headed into the alley. The man stiffened in fear. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to shoot you unless you make me. Stay calm and you’ll be fine.”
Dan steered him behind a dumpster, and stopped. “Hand over the bag.” The courier didn’t move. “Yo
u got two choices. Hand me the bag and don’t get shot, or try to keep it and I shoot you. Either way I get the bag.” Dan’s pistol was now leveled at his chest.
“I’ll get in some deep shit if I lose the bag,” he growled.
“You’re already in deep shit, ’cause you already lost it. I’m not asking again.” Dan’s voice was flat and unemotional.
The courier seemed to evaluate the threat and apparently came to the conclusion that Dan would shoot him without a second thought. He offered up the bag.
“Put it on the ground and slide it towards me with your foot…slowly.”
Dan reached out and put the bag behind him. “Now take off your shoes and socks.”
“What the fuck?”
“I’m not going to keep asking you to do things twice. Take them off or I’ll put a bullet in your foot. Do it now!”
The man quickly bent down and took his shoes and socks off.
“Slide them to me, like the bag…slowly. Now, take off your pants. And don’t open your mouth.”
The man slowly unbuckled his belt and took off his pants.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. I take the bag, your shoes and your clothes. I leave from the other end of the alley. A half a block down the street to the left, I’ll stash your stuff. If I see your head poking out of the alley before I’m off the block, I’ll keep the clothes. Got it?”
The man nodded.
“You don’t want to get shot, you want your clothes, you wait five minutes before you step out from this alley and trot down the block to retrieve your clothes. Then you go report you’ve been robbed.”
“What if someone steals my shoes and pants?”
“Better hope there aren’t any thieves in the neighborhood. It’ll be an embarrassing walk back to your boss half naked.”
Dan made the man sit down and then stuffed his shoes and pants into a plastic bag. Grabbing both bags, he backed his way down the alley to the street and turned up the block. He dropped the plastic bag next to some stairs, crossed the street, and disappeared around the corner of the next block. From there he quickly walked three blocks, going through two alleys and dropped into a subway station. The train was not due for ten minutes. Cursing under his breath, he went back up to the street and looked around.
