MOB RULES (James Harris Book 2) Read online

  “Jimmy, call for help,” Christi chimed in. She had regained her composure and risen to her feet. She held her right hand against her neck. Harris looked at her and saw her pleading eyes.

  “Just call for help and let’s get out of here,” she continued.

  Harris gestured to her. Without taking his eyes from his quarry, he extended an arm. Christi took a few steps forward and leaned into his chest, throwing her arms around him

  “I’m so sorry,” Harris whispered. He reached up and smoothed at her hair with a flat palm.

  Christi sniffed loudly and drew a deep, quivering breath. She said nothing.

  “Go over there now, would you?” Harris asked, gesturing to the offices up front with a nod of his head. “I need to get some information from this guy.”

  “What are you going to do?” She asked, looking up to find his eyes.

  Harris stared down at her. He saw the real fear that still remained. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against her forehead. He kissed her and then looked back down into her eyes.

  “Please.”

  She saw his bitter anger and sadness. The steel of his glare tempered with the reality of the evil that was set against him. He had his family to save.

  “Okay,” Christi breathed. She turned and walked towards the front of the warehouse.

  Harris turned his attention back to the Loco who lay clutching his wound and staring at him with stark hatred.

  “Just do it, motherfucker! What are you waiting for?!” He screamed.

  “Oh, I’m going to let you live, scumbag. But first you’re going to do something for me.”

  The young man remained silent. His breathing was labored as he fought against the searing pain in his shoulder.

  “You’re going to call Rabi and you’re going to tell him you need him back here now.”

  Through the pain and his desperate situation the young man laughed loudly and smiled up at Harris.

  “You think I’d set Rabi up for you? Now I know you’re fucking crazy!”

  “Oh, you’re going to do it or I’m going to gut shoot you.”

  Harris glared at him, no more smiles.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” The Loco asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “It means I’m going to shoot you in the stomach. And if you think that your shoulder hurts, you have no idea about the pain coming your way.”

  Despite himself, the man swallowed hard as his eyes darted in the direction Christi had walked and then back to Harris.

  “You’ll die very slowly by bleeding to death internally,” Harris continued coldly. “I hear it’s one of the worst ways to go.”

  “You ain’t gonna shoot me again. Not in front of a witness. You a cop, man.”

  “You still don’t get it, do you?”

  The man said nothing.

  “You thought you were grabbing my wife,” Harris said.

  “What?” The young man stammered.

  Everything had happened so fast. He hadn’t had time to fully process exactly who, or what, he was dealing with. Now the reality set in and his eyes widened as he finally understood.

  “Harris?”

  “That’s right, punk. Didn’t Rabi tell you who you were messing with?”

  “You him,” it came as statement, not a question.

  Harris just smiled. He pulled the hammer back on his 9mm with a menacing snick.

  The boy squirmed. He quickly reevaluated his situation as his eyes stayed wide, the menacing bravado a faded memory. Cops couldn’t touch you once you were down, but this was no ordinary cop. Everybody knew who James Harris was. He fished quickly into his jeans pocket with the hand that had been holding his shoulder.

  Harris took a quick step forward and with a deadly glint in his eyes, leveled the gun at the young man.

  “I’m getting my phone!” Bird screamed. He pushed back with his legs, an involuntary reflex.

  “Call him,” Harris stated coldly.

  “All right,” the man spat, panic still in his voice. He fumbled with the phone.

  “Put it on speaker,” Harris commanded.

  The man did as he was instructed. After punching a few buttons, the phone began to ring on the other end of the call.

  “Tell him you need him to come back right away. Don’t tell him why.”

  The phone was answered.

  “What the fuck you want, Bird?” An angry voice spoke.

  “Rabi man, I’m so sorry. I need you back here, homes.”

  “What happened?” The gang leader barked.

  “Man,” Bird hesitated. He looked desperately at Harris who still had the gun trained upon him. “Just come back.”

  There was a long pause. Nobody said a word. Time slowed to a crawl.

  “Why we on speaker phone, Bird?” Rabi finally spoke, suspicion thick in his voice.

  “What do you mean, Rabi?” Bird answered nervously.

  Another long pause. Tension hung thickly in the cold air.

  Through the tiny speaker of the cell phone, the warehouse filled with the laughter of the Loco’s leader. It lasted for several seconds and then things went silent again.

  “Yo, cop,” Rabi spoke slowly.

  Bird’s eyes went wide with fresh panic. It was so unexpected that even Harris flinched slightly.

  “You might as well just kill this motherfucker,” Rabi continued. “He’s gone any way.”

  “Rabi!” Bird screamed. “I’m sorry Rabi! He got a gun, man. He already shot me!”

  “Shut the fuck up, bitch. I don’t talk to dead men.”

  “Every cop in the city is after you, Rabi. It’s just a matter of time,” Harris spoke coldly.

  The Loco’s leader laughed loudly a second time.

  “You turn yourself in and it’ll go better for you,” Harris continued. “You haven’t killed anybody yet.”

  “That ain’t true, motherfucker,” Rabi said menacingly. “You’re as dead as that piece of shit who just called me. You just don’t know it yet.”

  “Rabi, man!” Bird screamed again. “He was gonna kill me!”

  “Save it,” Harris spoke to the man at his feet. “He doesn’t give a damn about you.”

  “And your wife and kid too, Harris,” Rabi continued. “They gone too.”

  Harris felt his pulse quicken at the mention of his family. He struggled to keep from screaming back at the Loco’s leader. But he knew that was the reaction the man was looking for. He wanted to rattle him. Harris checked his anger.

  “Not a chance, scumbag.” Harris kept his voice level. “My family is tucked away in a nice, safe place where you can never find them. But after I take you out, I’m going to bring my son to the morgue to show him what a dead bitch looks like.”

  “Bird,” Rabi spoke calmly. “I’m going to give you another chance. Take this motherfucker out right now. You hearing me?”

  Bird stared wildly at Harris. He had the panicked look of a trapped animal.

  “What?”

  “You heard me, man. Take this pig out. It’s your only way.”

  Bird swallowed with fear as he looked over to where his knife lay.

  “Don’t even think about it, Bird,” Harris growled.

  Bird licked his lips nervously as his eyes went from the knife to Harris. He swallowed hard again.

  “Kill this pig and we cool, Bird,” Rabi snarled.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Harris spoke as he backed up a step and leveled his gun at the prone figure. “He’s trying to get you killed.”

  The confusion and internal struggle were etched on the young man’s face as he tried to weigh his chances.

  “Do it now, Bird!” Rabi screamed.

  As if on cue, Bird suddenly bolted up from the floor. He got his feet under him and dove towards the knife. Harris allowed him to grab it.

  “Drop it, Bird!” Harris shouted as he grasped the 9mm with both hands.

  With wild eyes and a desperate, adrenalin fueled surge, Bird lunged forward.

&nbs
p; “Die, motherfucker!” He screamed loudly.

  Harris squeezed the trigger once and the gang member flew backwards as the slug punched a hole in his chest. The 9mm round found the young man’s heart. Bird was dead before he hit the ground.

  Christi screamed from the other side of the warehouse. She’d run out when she heard the yelling and witnessed the entire scene.

  As the echo of the shot faded, Rabi laughed hysterically.

  “Thanks for saving me the trouble, Harris,” he mocked.

  Harris shook with rage. He hadn’t wanted to do that.

  “You’re next, punk,” He spoke in a low, dangerous voice.

  “See you around, man,” Rabi said with a laugh. “We’re gonna have some fun.”

  The phone clicked dead.

  Mob Rules

  35

  Christi walked towards him with her hands over her mouth. She stared down at Bird, now dead on the floor. Her eyes were wide with shock and she turned to look at Harris.

  “Why?” She whispered hoarsely.

  “What do you mean, why?” Harris asked incredulously. “He ran at me. I had no choice.”

  “Jimmy, it was just a knife. You could have shot him in the leg.”

  “Christi, the guy was trying to kill me. You don’t aim for a man’s leg.”

  Christi looked back down upon the still body of the man who was moments ago her captor. She watched as the blood, still spilling out of him, pooled around his torso.

  “Oh my God,” she said in a hush. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Harris stepped towards her. Christi flinched as he placed an arm around her.

  “Christi,” he said softly. “I’m not the enemy.”

  She simply stared up at him.

  Harris brushed her hair back to examine the wound on her neck.

  “This is fine. Superficial.” He let her hair fall and put his arm back around her.

  Without warning, Christi’s began to tremble violently and she felt a rush of cold envelop her entire body. It went all the way to the bone and she hugged him back fiercely as she tried to control her shaking. She’d never felt so cold.

  “You need to sit,” Harris spoke in as soothing a voice as he could muster under the circumstances. Keeping his arm wrapped tightly around her, he led her to the front office of the warehouse. There was an old couch against the far wall. Harris walked her over and leaning down, had her sit. He ripped off his hoodie and covered her as best he could.

  “Maybe you should lie down?”

  “W-W-What’s th-the matter w-with me,” Christi’s teeth chattered as the shaking fit continued. Her eyes stared up at him with fear and confusion.

  “You’re in shock, kid. It will pass.”

  Christi pulled the hoodie around her as if it were a blanket. Her body continued to shake violently.

  “Lie down,” Harris said

  “N-no. I d-d-don’t want to,” she insisted through chattering teeth.

  Harris straightened back up.

  “D-don’t l-leave me!” Christi cried in panic.

  “Christi, I’m just making a phone call.”

  Harris pulled his phone out of his pocket and quickly called Shannon. His boss answered and Harris told him what had happened.

  “Yes,” he said. “She’s safe. But she’s in shock and has been injured.”

  He gave him the address and instructed him to send an ambulance and the CSI.

  “No,” he continued as Christi listened to his end of the conversation. “He’s not here. I’ll tell you about it later. But there are two down and one secured.”

  Harris tuned his boss out. He stared down at Christi and she in turn, stared back up at him. Both felt a sorrow that needed no words to express. Christi leaned back and closed her eyes as she struggle with the shaking.

  “Just send help, Blake,” Harris spoke, trying to end the conversation. “Thanks.”

  With the push of a button Harris hung up. He sat down next to Christi and gently put an arm behind her. Without opening her eyes, she swung her legs onto the couch and leaned into him, burrowing her head into his chest. Harris held her and waited for the cavalry.

  Mob Rules

  36

  Tony Scalaro sat at the bar with Paulie Aggio, his most trusted captain and Carmine Lucci, the family consigliore. It was four in the morning and he took a sip from the Dewar’s on the rocks that he gripped in his strong hand. A fresh cigar was planted in its usual spot and he held it with his teeth between sentences. In their line of work it was not uncommon to go to bed after the sun came up so when Tony got the news of what went down at The Loco’s clubhouse, he got right to work. After calling his two senior men, he laid out what had happened as well as the assistance he’d given Harris in finding the girl. Opportunities existed to be exploited and Tony knew a golden opportunity when he saw one.

  “How the hell we gonna trust this guy?” Carmine asked. “He’s a cop for fuck’s sake.”

  “This ain’t your ordinary cop, Carmine. This guy handles things more like a wise guy.”

  “So he’s a dangerous cop,” Paulie chimed in. “That don’t make me feel a whole lot better.”

  “He’s in my pocket already. He owes me.”

  “And you think he’ll make good?”

  “This is an honorable man. He ain’t like any cop I ever saw. I respect him.”

  “You respect a cop?”

  Scalaro shot them both a hard look as he was losing his patience. “I told you, he ain’t no ordinary cop.”

  The men backed off the subject.

  “So what do we do?”

  “We make sure his debt to us is beyond question. This piece of street trash in The Bronx will be his next target. Harris will be looking for him. I say we get him the dope he needs.”

  “How?”

  “Find this little punk. Put the word out.”

  “After what went down tonight this guy’s gonna be holed up tight. It won’t be easy.”

  “So throw some cash around.”

  “You got it, Tony.”

  “Did you talk to the Don about our problem?” Carmine asked.

  “He knows.”

  “Do you think it’s true? We got a rat?”

  “That’s what Harris told me.”

  “And you think it’s straight?”

  “Yeah,” Scalaro answered matter-of-factly. “He’s telling the truth.”

  “Fuck me,” Paulie spoke aloud. “A made guy? One of our friends?” He asked in disbelief.

  “That’s what he said,” Tony answered.

  “And you think he’ll give our rat up?”

  “He will if we play our cards right.”

  “Just let me get my hands on the motherfucker,” Paulie turned and spit on the floor. “A fucking rat, can you believe it?”

  “Keep that under your hat for now,” Tony ordered.

  “You got it, boss. I’ll get on this right away.”

  He rose to leave.

  “Gimme a few minutes before you start up, Paulie,” Carmine said. “The Bronx is Moretti territory. I need to make a call and make sure our friends up there understand.”

  “Do that,” Tony agreed giving Carmine a nod. He looked at Paulie. “Put Richie and Frankie on it. Speed is essential here.”

  “You got it, Tony.”

  “All right,” Scalaro dismissed the pair. “Let’s move.”

  The two high ranking mobsters rose from their seats and headed towards the exit. Scalaro grabbed his cell phone and looked at the time. Five minutes after four in the morning. He finished his drink and stood up.

  From the other side of the pool hall, a fat man rose from his seat. He quickly hustled over to his boss.

  “We heading out, Tony?” He asked.

  “Yeah. I gotta go grab a couple hours sleep. Tomorrow could be a busy day.”

  “I’ll get the car,” the fat man said. He turned and made for the door.

  Tony followed but remained inside the pool hall and waited f
or the car to pull up. He thought of the fact that there was a snitch among his people and felt his anger spike again. There was a reckoning coming. And Harris was going to help him make it happen.

  Mob Rules

  37

  Carl Emerson, city editor of the New York Gazette, stood beside the hospital bed and frowned down upon his favorite reporter. His face bore the look of a stern father who had just found out his teenage daughter had taken the car without permission.

  “Just so you know,” he admonished. “I’m thinking of putting you back on human interest stories, young lady.”

  “You do and I’ll quit so fast it’ll make your head spin,” Christi quipped with a laugh. She smiled wryly at her boss.

  After the paramedics had administered treatment and the police had debriefed her on the kidnapping and shootout that ensued, she had been driven to the hospital to treat both her knife wound and shock surrounding the traumatic experience. The doctors decided to keep her twenty-four hours for observation and although she’d griped relentlessly, she lost the battle of wills and resigned herself to a day of supervised bed rest. To be honest, she admitted to herself, she felt safe here with the armed guard that Harris had insisted be placed by her door. Rabi might try to tie up loose ends.

  Christi was in a beautiful single room in Mount Sinai hospital that was already adorned with a multitude of flowers, balloons and stuffed animals from co-workers and friends. A huge arrangement that must have cost a few hundred dollars had just arrived from the district attorney’s office.

  Her room was on the 8th floor and the bed was set close to the window. With the blinds open and morning sunlight streaming into the room, she could look out on the busy city.

  “If armed confrontations, kidnappings and shootouts are to be standard fare with you now that you’re assigned to cover James Harris,” her boss continued. “May I suggest upping your life insurance policy?”

  “How wonderfully morbid of you, Carl. Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it. And let me just add that there is no corporate policy against naming your boss as sole beneficiary.”

  Christi slit her eyes and glared at him with mock hostility.