Path of Ranger: Volume 1 (2 page)

Moving slowly, JB didn’t rush to use the headlights. He turned back to the rear seat where he touched a coating with his hand under the seat. A metal seal hung on the string there. It felt untouched, JB was relieved.

Now the truck moved pretty fast. It rode straight to the edge of the dock. While making a turn, JB threw the key from the container out of the window, into the water. Occasionally he caught himself having thoughts that he might be too paranoid with all those extra precautions, but only such attention to detail could give him  peace of mind. Or just an illusion of peace of mind.

Not a single soul around, JB knew by heart the security’s schedule, when and where he could get in and out without being spotted. On passing through the exit gate, it seemed to him that he had seen something in the rear view mirror. It looked like a bumper of a vehicle hidden behind one of the containers. He wasn't sure exactly if that car was there on his arrival at the docks. Yet, JB was tired. He had a lot on his mind lately, so he dismissed that matter soon after.

The blue Ford reached the city. The vehicle was moving along the seafront. JB arrived at Long Beach as he had agreed with his mysterious comrade. The local gangster king, Big Dog, was running that neighborhood. In fact, JB and he were partners in the past. They had started their business together from the very bottom. Years passed since life had broken them apart. Now it was time for JB to fix that. But his primary concern was not the old disagreements with his ex-partner, and even not the success of upcoming negotiations, he was much more worried about Dog’s men’s behavior. The white boy running one of the ‘black’ hoods wasn’t the most beloved thing among the dark skin brothers. Despite even that he grew up among them. When taking the last turn to that alley JB had just one wish: to not be shot on sight.

There were two SUVs already waiting for him: Lincoln Navigator and Hummer H2.

“Is that him, boss?” Lincoln’s driver asked the man beside him.

Big Dog was that man. A thirty year old black man with short hair, dressed in luxury sports clothes, with a large golden crucifix hung over his hoodie.

“Yeah,” he answered to the big muscled wheelman.

“You want me to do it?” the bodyguard asked, taking out his gun.

“Put it away,” Big Dog said. “Not yet.”

The blue Ford sat still behind the trucks, not far, yet keeping its distance. JB didn’t rush to come out, as a matter of precaution he preferred to wait for Dog’s people to appear first. That way he would have a chance to evaluate the situation better. After a minute, five gangsters went out of the SUVs, all were wearing respirators. Big Dog was among them. They moved a few steps forward, then JB left his vehicle. As a habit, he didn’t turn off the engine in case he would need a quick runaway. This was his illusion of safety for himself. Although Bridgers knew that he wouldn’t stand a chance against such number of people. Nowhere to hide, no time to run.

Both sides closed in. JB tried to show an unconcerned mug, a bit careless, but still interested. The big guy remembered that he hadn’t taken a single breath in a minute. So he pulled a respirator out of his pants and covered the face with it.

“JB,” Big Dog said. He was a bit smaller and somewhat older.

“Dog,” still playing his mimics, the big guy responded, adding a shade of smile to his face.

“You wanted to talk… Talk.”

“Yeah, I want to…” Jerry glanced at gang shortly and got his eyes back at Dog. “Sup with the dogs? Why so many?”

“Thanks to you, we all got in this shit,” Dog said swinging his hands wide open, gesturing at the sky and streets, which were full of white dust.

“You can call ‘em off,” JB responded, “I’m here to make peace.”

The black gangster approved, curling out his lower lip, showing that he didn’t mind the suggestion.

“I’m listening.”

“I wouldn’t mind some privacy if you don’t mind,” JB said, looking over the gangster crowd once more.

“We may go to my car.”

“Deal.”

Developed over the years, JB’s charisma was working just as he expected. The first ice was broken. They didn't shoot him yet, that already was an achievement, considering his situation. The next move promised to be dangerous, and the one after that – even more dangerous: first he had to pass the gangsters, then return. Big Dog had already got into the Lincoln while his old partner was just moving to it. He cautiously stepped towards the thugs, squeezed among them. They didn’t look thrilled about that. Walking through the crowd, JB gave a friendly smile, even though the mask hid that. Keeping eye contact he laid the hand on the door to search for the handle.

“Nice cap,” he said to one of the thugs and jumped into the car right away.

Immediately after getting into the car JB locked the door as if it would save him from the gang. He did that on purpose to distract Big Dog’s guard. JB’s childish behavior indeed softened up that grumpy gangster. A noticeable change in his attitude could be seen with the naked eye. He still didn’t glow with a radiating love, but at least they were sitting in one car peacefully. That was already progress.

“You can lose the mask, this whip has air filtration,” Dog said.

“Hm… Nice,” JB approved. “I had to use emergency O2 reserves in my Ford.”

“You have O2 in your ride? Just like that?”

Even though JB got the irony, some part of him was still surprised by such a question.

“Haven’t you been pushed off the bridge into the water? Like ever?” JB tried to explain. “After you spend a couple of minutes in a smashed car, on the bottom… Then you start thinking how useful extra air might be.”

“So, what’s the business?” Big Dog changed the subject.

“I’m out,” the expression on JB’s face turned, he dropped the play.

“Of course you’re out!” Dog smirked.

“Yeah, I’m out. Leaving Lower Compton. Leaving L.A.” JB was talking slowly, pushing out every word.

“To be honest, I don’t get how you're still breathing…” Dog mumbled. “Whatcha want from me?”

“I have an offer for you.”

“If you wanna drag me into your trouble with D-Kay, take your offer to someone else.”

“Getcha in trouble? No, I have a win-win offer for you.”

Dog lingered in doubts for a second.

“Ok, I’m listening.”

“My boys have got guns on them worth two hundred large, get it? Our growth in product stocks are three-point-five mil. That’s it… three point seven million dollars is the value of my business.”

“Keep going,” now Big Dog looked interested.

“You can get it for two point five mil. Today.”

The black gangster winced a bit because of confusion, he drilled JB with his stare.

“Here’s the deal, man. Ya head is already on the line, if I accept, I may get mine there too. Why would I?”

“First of all, you ain’t getting an offer like that ever again. Second, with my territory ya game is gonna get on a whole new level. And the most important, all our heads were put on the line a long time ago. The question is: whatcha gonna do to protect ya’self?”

“Are you fucking insane?!” Big Dog couldn’t keep himself together anymore. “Three years ago, when we needed you the most, you bailed. Then you appeared from nowhere, got ya’self a crew and started some shit, ignoring everything and everyone. And, of course, that wasn’t enough for you, you just can’t get enough!” Dog was yelling, but JB was glad that his fellow finally got a chance to unload. “You just had to take an eight hundred million dollar batch to put it in a container and just dump it in the ocean!”

“We were gonna burn it, actually,” JB clarified. “Sorry. Continue.”

“I noticed! So has everyone else. Now all of L.A. is breathing with ya cocaine. Soon all the fuzz in the country is gonna be here. And you know what it’s gonna be then? They’ll  put down everyone. And you… oh, you most likely are gonna be shredded to pieces even before that!”

“Well, that depends… who’s gonna get me first. Also I’m not the biggest thief in the world, kinda.”

“Look at you, still joking…” Big Dog calmed down a bit. “I don’t know where you got that amount of blow, I think no one knows. But whether you stole it or not, you’re not gonna be wasted for that. You’re gonna be killed for try to dump it. No one does that. No one is allowed to…”

“Maybe I’ll get wasted, maybe not. It’s not my first play,” JB tilted his head a bit to show up his bullet scar. “The question is: what’s gonna happen after the air gets cleared and law enforcement moves on? This news won't last for long. What’s gonna be after?”

While making his argument, JB didn’t choose words too carefully because he knew that Big Dog was a gangster, greedy as any criminal. The discussion was nothing but his way to negotiate the price.

“Two million.”

“Two point three. Cash. An exchange afternoon, I’ll let you know thirty minutes before the deal,” JB said his last word.

Big Dog thoughtfully nodded. Black and white gangsters looked at each other once more, then shook hands. Everything was going according to plan, Jerry knew how easy it would be to get an old friend back using a profitable business. The deal was done, but they were still in the car. There were a few more things to talk about and each one of them felt it. The pause got too long.

“I would ask you about your family and business, but you probably wouldn’t believe that I’m sincere, right?” JB smirked.

“You’ve changed, and yet you’re the same asshole,” Dog smirked back. “I’m cool. If you’re really interested.”

“People don’t change, just an attitude. I’m glad for you, man. You have an excellent wife and kid.”

“Yeah, my family…” the black man said joyfully. “You were my family once, you know. Then you bailed, never explaining a thing.”

“It was complicated. We were working bees, working for a boss, together. Boss was gone, one of us got to take his place. I was too young. I didn’t want for us to kill each other in a chase for power. I had to bail.”

“You were young? JB, you were twenty-three!” Dog looked pissed, but JB was just sadly nodding. “Anyway, when I took the 'big chair' nothing changed. We could still work together.”

“Bullshit! You know that. Business ain’t for sharing, it’s gotta be controlled. That ain’t a two man job.”

“But you never talked to me about it.”

“And what if I did? Would you let me go? Just like that? I did what I was supposed to, not more, not less.”

“Okay, I get it. But you have to remember, B, wherever you are you can fool everyone, but you can’t fool ya’self. We were raised as dogs, it’s in our blood. Just remember what pack you are from.”

The talk was over. Everything went smoothly. The doors opened and with the first fresh wind JB got back his worry about the surrounding gangsters. He stepped in the alley and straightened up. The men came closer. It seemed that they were going to apprehend him, but their boss gestured them to stop. The night was gone, much like JB’s energy. He was tired, with the next couple steps his head got dizzy. A day ahead of him promised to be a long and lingering one. JB needed to rest. He said goodbye to his friend, then got in his truck and left the alley.

JB went from Long Beach straight to Compton. The gang’s base was there. It appeared to be a regular house, nothing special: two stories, a one car garage and a trampled lawn. There were lots of houses like that around. All poor neighborhoods are alike, the same poor people, similar structure planning, and no one cares about the problems of others.

The blue Ford parked in front of the garage gate. The engine stopped. JB got out of the car to go to the front door. A slight movement of the curtain seemed visible in the window. Someone was watching him. He was going to ring the bell, but the entrance was unlocked.

Walking into the living room the gangster didn’t see anyone, yet he knew that there was an armed man standing behind the door. After a guardian made sure that it was safe, he closed the entrance. Then the man put his gun down and stepped forward to the big guy. JB greeted the black fellow, they shook hands and customarily bumped their shoulders.

“Sup, boss!” the guard said joyfully, he seemed to be glad that someone made him a company.

“Long time, Chris. Everything cool?” JB never laid his eyes on the companion but scanned the place thoroughly.

“Yep,” the guard looked around too. The place was trashed: dust and garbage everywhere, soda cans, candy wrappers. “Nothing new,” he shrugged.

“Okay, open the garage door for me,” JB said and went back to the door. “And clean up some.”

“Got it, boss,” a guy said uncomfortably, scratching his neck.

While JB was walking, the garage gate started slowly opening up. He removed a bed cover to reveal the Ducati. Then Bridgers opened up a rear board, picked up a metal ramp and fixed it at the edge of the bed.

“Monster, huh?” Chris asked. “What happened to 996?”

“It blew up.”

“You did that?”

“No, I got jumped,” JB glanced at Chris. “Why don’t you use a respirator?”

“A lil' bit of morning cheer never hurts,” Chris smiled and made a deep breath. “By the way, I managed to get that code, a bit more time and we’re gonna be able to run the program.”