Path of Ranger: Volume 1 (3 page)

It was much easier to load up the bike than to take it off. Some extra precision was needed to steer it down the ramp. Chris was glad to help out his boss with that job while talking.

“The plan has changed. We have to wrap up by noon and destroy all the evidence.”

“Is that right? You wanna push the ‘button’?” Chris looked a bit surprised, but not too much.

“Do you wanna?” JB asked back.

“Do I? Hell yeah!”

“You got it, dude. As soon as we clear the dungeon, push it.”

The big guy got in the truck to hide it up. As the vehicle was driven into the garage, JB stopped the engine and turned back to the rear seat. With one abrupt move he tore off the seal and pulled the seat up, there were two black bags inside. He took out both, closed the door and left the garage. The gate went closed.

Chris was still staying outside waiting for his boss. As soon as he’d seen JB, he took one of the bags and they went on together.

“What about the dungeon?” Chris asked. “Who’s gonna push that button?”

“You wanna push that one too?”

The guard shook his head cheerfully and impatiently.

“Hm… You really should have put the respirator on.” JB commented on the guard’s hyperactivity. “I’ll push that button.”

“What’s this?” Chris nodded at bags.

“Our cover. The cash and the drugs,” the big guy shrugged. “Take the blow into the dungeon, it goes to Big Dog along with the guns later. The cash stays with me.”

“Yo, B! By the way, about the dungeon. There is somewhat about fifteen hundred pounds of heroin. What are we gonna do with all that?”

“Same as usual, destroy it,” JB responded while walking through the living room to the stairs. “And, Chris. You make sure that no idiot blows it up inside the city, it’s your personal responsibility.”

“Ain’t that Hakim’s job?”

“I’m gonna need Hakim for something else. It’s time to get rid of Markus and Tyris.”

“Why?”

“They sold out. D-Kay’s bitches.”

Just as JB took the first step upon the stairs he noticed Chris’ workplace. That desk was full of computer screens and various gadgets. Endless lines of programming code captured his attention, he turned to his employee.

“So, does it work?”

“You bet it does!” Chris looked sure and self-satisfied.

“Nice,” JB responded respectfully. “Get rid of everything.”

Talking no more, Chris stepped towards the computer and pushed the big red button that was on the table. The first one on his list. A bunch of dialog windows appeared on the screens, the database was initiated to be erased.

JB walked on hovering steps up to the second floor. As soon as he took his foot off the top one, the stairs shifted toward the wall to position themselves one over another so that the path was closed. There were a few bedrooms on the second floor, just what the big guy needed. A quick nap before the primary part of the mission waited for him.

Several hours passed. Jerry had fallen asleep on the first touch to the pillow. Suddenly, his shallow dreams were interrupted by an anxious feeling of needing to wake up. Before even having a chance to open his eyes he jumped off the bed. His consciousness was still between dream and reality, but instinct had already captured the irritant, those were voices coming from the lower floor.

It was almost noon, the nap took too long. JB took his Desert Eagle from the nightstand, which he had put there earlier and walked to the door. Being perfectly silent, he stole up to the stairs to take a look at people in the living room. Three men were there: Chris, Tyris and Markus. It was the right time for those two to show up.

JB hid the gun and switched on the hover stairs to move out. Just as other guys noticed their boss the talking stopped and they all turned to him.

“Yo! What’s the sitch?” JB looked at Tyris.

“We’ve gathered all product and guns. Excluding the ones that men have on them, of course. Everything in the van,” Tyris nodded at the window.

“What about our credits?” JB turned to Markus.

“Yo! Mikey is on it. The cash has gotta be here by evening,” Markus didn’t look sure, he rushed his look between JB and Tyris.

“Good. Gather the crew at six p.m., here. Right there,” nodding down, JB emphasized his words, pointing at the dungeon.

“Consider it done. Anything else?”

“You stay put,” JB checked the time, it was eleven oh two. “Call up two more guys, we’re gonna have some business by twelve.”

“What’s up?” Markus asked.

“You’ll see. Now move it.”

Knowing his people perfectly, JB couldn’t miss the tension that was present during the dialog. These two had never meant much for JB or his business, no matter what they thought. All the same, the gangster part of him was furious about their betrayal. He needed to get rid of them but to do that in a way that wouldn’t hurt the plan.

While the associates were busy making phone calls, the boss had some time for his preparation. He went back to the bedroom, where his ammunition was. On the move, JB took off his t-shirt to throw it on the bed. Heavy muscles appeared on his strong body, all covered in ink. The largest of the tattoos was his initials ‘JB’ that covered his back from top to bottom. There was the one on his neck. It was a ‘G’ sign with the writing ‘nothing but a G thang’ around it. Under his right arm another tattoo – a large blood stain drawn in red ink, with two handprints inside of it. Number ‘22’ on the left shoulder and a sinister-like face with the writing ‘Dr. Evil’ on the right. His left forearm had a pentagram on it and the words ‘say hello to the devil.’ His torso itself had some scars on it: a few bullet marks and one deep stab trace in the left hip area.

The big guy came to the wardrobe. There were a couple light bulletproof vests along with several fresh t-shirts inside. He took a thin wrapping singlet from the shelf to put on. Then he put a vest over his torso. He tightened it so hard, it was hard to breathe for a second. A wide white t-shirt covered his massive body and its protection.. Then JB put on a white du-rag, the precious chain with his initials, and checked his overall look. The pistol went behind his back. When everything was ready JB took the jacket and left the room.

Moving along the hallway, the gangster knocked on the next room’s door, a woman’s voice responded. He opened it to look inside.

“Jess, it’s time to leave."

The pretty young woman was just putting on her t-shirt over a slim half naked body when JB looked inside.

“I’m ready, B,” she said and immediately walked out of the room, passing him by.

Just as the girl left, JB came to the wall's digital panel near the stairs. He entered the code and pushed the button. A thin greenish acid gas started to fill up the second floor.

The men gathered in the kitchen. The head of the gang was explaining his plan to the subordinates. They were just about to wrap up.

“So, you wanna take all of our product, guns, and real estate to sell it to Big Dog’s gang?” Tyris asked, filling in the blanks.

“That’s right. We do that, and when the feds get to our hood with an investigation, they are gonna be Dog’s problem, not ours.”

They all were drinking coffee, but only JB’s cup was half empty, others were much more occupied with the discussion than enjoying the beverage. Tyris seemed to find it hard to believe in the success of such an operation.

“So, you wanna take all of our product, guns, and real estate to sell it to Big Dog’s gang?” Tyris asked once more with each word put exactly as before implying that the idea seemed silly to him.

“You got it right. Again…”

“It’s madness!” the associate resented.

As a response JB took a sip and shrugged.

“Whatcha gonna do with da paper?” Markus asked.

“Giving it to the men.”

“The men?” Markus wondered.

“Yeah. We have twenty-five dudes, it’s gonna be about ninety-two large for each. Look at it as dismissal pay. It has to be enough to stay low for a while.”

Tyris and Markus looked at each other evaluating shared dislike of the situation.

“You’re the boss…” Tyris pushed through his teeth.

It was new for them. They both were under an impression that all the money was meant to be divided among three of them as gang’s superiors. But they wouldn’t dare to argue, JB wasn’t a kind of guy to argue with.

Bridgers got up.

“Oh, one more thing… Leave your phones,” he said on the way out.

“What? Why? What about the connection?” Tyris asked perplexedly.

“To ride a few miles over the city you don’t need a ‘connection’ yo!” the boss emphasized the word ‘connection’ especially. “It’s too much of a risk. No phones on the mission.”

Tyris and Markus exchanged vague looks once more. The suspicion in their behavior was growing. JB took it almost as a personal insult to himself.

“Yo, J!” Tyris called him up. “What about the money for the real estate and the credits?”

“All for the men!”

Over the years, JB proved himself as a mastermind crook who had thousands of diverse ideas that brought the gang a significant income. So whenever he suggested something extreme, or insane, or just silly, they learned to take his word for it. But this time it was a different story, he needed to throw a solid bone to the pack of wolves to get away while they tear each other apart over it.

By that time, a gray van arrived. The car was covered in a telephone company’s ads as a camouflage. But that cover looked unrealistic enough so that anyone could see it as a ‘masked van,' that’s why gangsters thought no one would believe such obvious vehicle to be what it seemed. Besides the van, there also was JB’s Ford with the backup to come along. As for JB himself, he was going to keep some distance, following the convoy on his bike. There were enough guns and drugs in the van for several decades of prison. The big guy didn’t want be the one to arrest in the case of a bust.

If someone is getting busted, make sure it’s the expendable ones.

The plan looked flawless, but still, something wouldn’t let JB breathe easy. He felt like this exchange might be a significant peril to his endurance. The thought of leaving everything and running away appeared to him more and more often. He already had several bank accounts with enough money in it to disappear and live a long life somewhere on a beach. Such a sweet dream of his. But the idea of unfinished business was corroding him from inside. An ‘Achilles’ heel’ of his. Despite the gangster’s greed, adrenaline addiction affected him more strongly than all the prudence in the world. And he knew that someday one of these qualities of his was going to be the reason for his fall. But it was stronger than him. Nothing he could do about that. Perhaps he just hoped that everything would go smoothly.

        It was noon, time for business. The gang had prepared for an operation: they had loaded the product, armed up and got ready to follow the order. JB went to the truck for a short word with Tyris.

“JB,” Tyris opened the window.

“Make a few spins around the block, then follow them to the docks. The place is under the South Bridge.”

“Got it. Will do.”

The vehicles went on. JB himself walked to his bike.

“You know, B,” Chris pronounced thoughtfully, holding a cup of hot beverage in his hand, “animals, like Tyris and Markus, are unpredictable. Let me go along for support.”

JB thoroughly scanned that skinny black man from head to toe. Chris had more food stains on his robe and t-shirt than a two-year-old.

“Your job is pushing the ‘buttons’ today, Chris. And put on fucking resp when leaving the house, yo!”

“Got it, boss,” the guard responded and took a sip.

JB got on the bike and looked around suspiciously as a matter of habit. While the engine was warming up, he pulled out his cellphone to make a call.

“Yeah,” Big Dog’s voice sounded.

“Southbridge,” JB said and disconnected right away.

Let’s ride.

Bridgers decided to take a shortcut to get to the rendezvous point first. He wanted to make sure that it was clear there. Although the crew of his had moved out a few minutes before, the boss had more agility with his bike. When the big cars were sluggishly crawling through main streets, JB was used to narrow paths. Disregarding all standards of safe driving, the bright colored biker was flying through the alleys and courts of the dirty boondocks of LA. Even when crossing the roads he didn't slow down speed, driven only by his high skill of riding and gaming instinct. Anyway, it was a perfect time for that. The cocaine cloud accident had cleaned the streets, so it was more or less easy.

Not far from his destination, when crossing another road, an unexpected car came out in front of the biker. It appeared suddenly, just before the entrance of the alley where he was heading. In the moments going around that vehicle JB noticed two men inside. It looked like they were looking for a parking spot. The gangster wasn’t sure why, but that Impala seemed familiar. The speed took back his attention, and that sudden thought of suspicion got lost among hundreds of others.