No Room for Mercy (16 page)

When the crew reached Seattle, Bena and Tiva came to see why their
father had them training in the elements back in Ponca City. The
Emerald City was overcast and rain fell lightly. Traffic was
streaming out of downtown during the evening rush. Seattle seemed no
different from any other city save for its depressing grey skies and
rainfall. A paper picked up at a fuel stop showed the forecast for
the next three days—cloudy, a high of 59 degrees, and an eighty
percent chance of rain each day. Bena and Tiva knew this job wasn’t
going to be as easy as the Vegas hit, but they were up to the
challenge.

After checking into an inconspicuous motel on the outskirts of the
city, the crew separated and began to spy their marks with the
addresses provided by JunJie. There were too many witnesses at the
brothers’ downtown office to pull the job the crew noted, so a
strike on home territory was warranted. The following day, Lucky and
Tiva drove thirty miles south towards Kent where Hayate Onishi
resided. The mark’s luxurious three story brick home was
centered in a cul de sac and tucked into a wooded hillside facing a
business area, but that was all Lucky and Tiva could discern on this
night because the fog was simply too thick, and it was a steady,
light drizzle. They would have to sit and wait to see if the fog
would clear out; and if it did, their mark still had to show.

Doss and Bay, meanwhile, had traveled about fifteen miles east of
Seattle and had entered a ritzy Bellevue neighborhood littered with
million dollar homes. Father and daughter cruised pass Isao’s
home, which sat atop a hill covered with shrubbery. A shot from
ground level was out of the question because Isao’s limousine
would be completely blocked by the shrubs and trees that sat perched
in front his home once he arrived.

Doss continued riding through the neighborhood trying to find an
angle, but the neighborhood had too many trees and hills to provide
an adequate vantage point. He left the neighborhood formulating
another attack method when Bay spotted a mini power station sitting
on the edge of a steep-sloping tree-lined rocky hillside about ¾
of a mile away from her mark’s sprawling two story mansion.
There was a tall, grey steel electrical tower anchored into the
cliffside where she could set up, and the countless pine, juniper,
and spruce trees and shrubbery could provide the necessary cover.

“Dad, can you find the entrance to that power plant over
there?” Bay asked as she pointed to the hillside on her right.

Doss rode through the area outside the neighborhood and came up on a
small access road leading to the mini power station. He turned onto
the pathway and extinguished his headlights and cruised to the end of
the road where he and Bay got out under the falling rain and scanned
the area.

Doss walked to the edge of the cliff and looked to his left and there
lay Isao’s mansion, the driveway to the man’s home
clearly visible. “We’ve found our spot. You gone have to
climb down a bit to see the front door, though. Good job,” he
told Bena.

Bay, dressed in an all-black army uniform and black leather boots,
draped her rifle over her shoulder while her father anchored a rope
to the back of the Suburban and she slowly climbed down the
rain-slickened, forested cliffside and carefully stepped onto the
concrete platform holding up the steel electrical tower where she set
up her rifle and lay in wait. The rain was coming down a little
heavier as she lay atop the concrete slab adjusting her scope to
allow for windage and gravity while Doss stood atop the cliff
watching over things.

JunJie’s file indicated that the brothers usually arrived home
a few minutes apart, with Hayate arriving home before Isao somewhere
around eight ‘o’ clock. After forty minutes of waiting, a
sleek white limousine turned into the cobblestone driveway just
before eight ‘o’ clock and the chauffeur got out and
opened the rear door. Bay now had her mark in her line of fire so
Doss chirped Lucky on his Nextel. “How you looking?”

“We can’t see a thing down here. It’s too
foggy—even with the scope she can’t see a thing.”

“Did he make it home?”

“He’s been home. Somebody came out on the balcony, but we
not sure if it was him because we can’t make out shit through
this fog down here. Tonight’s no good. We got no shot down
here.”

“Call it off,” Doss said before he leaned over and
whistled for Bay, who climbed back up the hillside and the two left
the area. Finland said the job would be difficult and all four
gangsters now understood fully what they were up against. The weather
was an uncooperative factor in the scheme of things, and the forecast
over the next few days didn’t look any more promising.

Lucky ran his hands through his hair in frustration as he sat on the
bed inside the motel room beside Tiva, who was breaking down her
rifle. “If we let these guys get away, we run the risk of
losing out on a million dollars, family. Not to mention the fact that
this shit won’t sit good with the Asians,” Lucky said as
he lit a cigarette and popped open a can of beer.

“We just have to time it right.” Doss said while rubbing
his chin in deep thought.

“We can time it all we want,” Lucky remarked. “We’re
not the problem. This crappy ass weather is working against us and
time is steadily tickin’.”

“And the bad thing is the forecast isn’t better
tomorrow,” Bay remarked as she paced the floor in frustration.

“Or the next day, or the next day, or the next day,”
Lucky said. “We have a problem here. Maybe we should try
another way. Just bum-rush them mutherfuckas and get it over with.”

“This is the only way, Lucky,” Doss stated. “We
can’t catch these guys any other place because they’re
too many witnesses around. The bum-rush wouldn’t work. But the
plan we have in place will work if only the weather cooperates. The
Onishi brothers seem to do everything JunJie says as far as arriving
home at the said time. Let’s just gather our heads, take a deep
breath, and get back at it tomorrow.”

*******

For four nights in a row, the crew was hindered by Seattle’s
unrelenting and adverse weather conditions. Whenever Tiva was able to
hit her mark, Bay would be hindered by rain and fog and vice versa.
On the fifth day of their trip to Seattle, the crew had gotten word
from Finland via JunJie that the Onishi brothers were headed back to
Japan for a month-long business meeting in three days and the job
would be obsolete should they board their flight. The crew tried for
another two days to hit the Onishi brothers, but the weather was
relentless. Fog and rain reigned supreme on both nights. On the eight
day, the last day that would allow the crew the opportunity to
fulfill the contract, the gang all headed out with the understanding
that if they didn’t hit the Onishi brothers on this night, the
job would be considered a failure—not a good look for the
professional crew of killers who prided themselves on never missing a
mark.

JunJie, who was tucked away in Key West, Florida with his son and
godson, was getting worried himself; if the Onishi brothers made
their flight the following morning, he ran the risk of being unable
to take over their businesses because he knew they were going to sign
contracts with their Japanese counterparts back home and other
investors would be in position to gain the reaps of their spoils
should they die after signing those contracts. The tension was
ratcheting up in Seattle and the Chicago Gang had to either deliver,
or abort one million dollars in cash and suffer a setback in their
cocaine deliveries because JunJie needed the ships the Onishi
brothers owned to transport more product. A lot was riding on this
last night of the attempted hit.

Arriving back in Kent on their final night before the brothers’
scheduled flight, T-top sat in the backseat of Lucky’s 2002
Cadillac Avalanche waiting patiently. Despite the pressure, she was
calm and certain she could hit her mark. Things were good from her
vantage point. There was a light drizzle, but no fog. All Hayate had
to do was step outside; and from what Tiva had seen the past several
days, someone, assumingly Hayate, emerged onto the patio every night
shortly after his limousine pulled into the driveway. For the first
time in over a week, the sky was clear enough for Tiva to recognize
her mark. The weather thirty miles north, however, was not
cooperating was the understanding via Doss’s updates. Still,
the crew was going ahead with the job in spite of the high risk.

Lucky and T-top were parked in an office park’s parking lot.
The business was a printing company that remained open twenty-four
hours a day. Lucky’s Avalanche was parked amongst many other
vehicles, parallel to Hayate’s home, which sat about a half
mile away at the end of a cul-de sac. Medium-height buildings, which
consisted of Starbuck’s Coffee, Kwik Prints, and various
clothing stores and condominiums, lined the street leading to the
cul-de sac and the wooded hillside that held the man’s
luxurious home. The two continued talking for a while longer until
they spotted Hayate’s black Mercedes limousine turning into the
cul de sac.

“Okay,” T-top said as she placed the night vision scope
onto her rifle. “If this guy does what he usually does when he
gets home, he’ll be dead in ten minutes. What time is it, unk?”

“Seven thirty,” Lucky replied.

“Kinda early, but we close enough.” T-top responded as
she readied her rifle.

Bay, meanwhile, had used a rope anchored into the soil to descend the
rain-slickened slope and was now perched on the concrete slab of the
electrical tower looking down on her mark’s home through her
night vision scope. It was seven forty-five when headlights down
below appeared and turned slowly into the driveway.

Doss was standing at the foot of the cliff looking down on Bay when
headlights turned onto the access road. Bay saw the lights and she
scurried up from the ledge and peeked between her father’s feet
only to see a patrol car’s flashing lights. She ducked back
down and turned to her mark, whose limousine was nearing the house.
Isao’s front door could be seen from this vantage point as
well; Bay would just have to hunch over and kneel on one knee atop a
rugged rock that set on a ledge.

“Continue on,” Doss said as he threw his Nextel and
binoculars down and turned around and faced the officer, who was
exiting his car with his gun on his hand.

Bay was attempting to grab the Nextel, but it was just out of reach.
She would have to climb back onto the top of the ledge to retrieve it
and that move would alert the officer. She slipped back down the
ledge out of the officer’s sight, turned back to her mark and
saw his scant image moving slowly up the sidewalk leading to his home
and aimed her rifle once more.

“What are you doing around here?” the officer asked Doss.

“Just taking a leak, officer,” Doss replied as he
pretended to zip his silk suit pants.

The officer looked over to the black Suburban, which was parked
several yards away from the man, and asked him, “You come way
down here on this dark road to take a piss?”

“I didn’t want to offend anyone.” Doss replied as
he stood with his hands at shoulder length.

“Well, you’re offending me. Get over here and place your
hands on the hood for me would you please, sir?” the officer
asked as he shined a flashlight into the interior of the Suburban and
saw that it was unoccupied.

Thirty miles down the road in Kent, T-top had just witnessed her mark
walk out onto his balcony talking on a cell phone. “That’s
our guy and I got a clear shot,” she said.

Lucky chirped Doss back in Bellevue at that moment and asked, “How
you looking?”

The officer heard the chirp and the voice and began searching Doss’s
raincoat.

“You there?” Lucky asked.

At that moment, the officer looked over to the ledge, pressed his
hand to Doss’s back as his free hand began moving towards the
radio planted on his left shoulder.

Bay, at the same time, had lost sight of her mark. He was walking
beside his chauffeur, who was unwittingly shielding him from her line
of fire with his body and an umbrella as the two made their way
towards the home’s entrance, Isao holding a briefcase while
talking on a cell phone.

“It’s a go on our end!” Lucky snapped.

Bay heard Lucky’s remark, and despite the officer’s
presence, she went on with the job.

The officer heard the chirp and the voice as well, and Doss quickly
sized him up. He was taller than he, but was of slender build, a
young buck, maybe a rookie; whatever the case, Doss felt he could
take the man down if he acted swiftly. The officer was reaching for
his radio once again, and Doss, with the understanding that if this
constable made that call, he and Bay would be in hot water, lurched
out and grabbed the officer’s Glock .9, catching the man by
surprise. The two wrestled beside the car where Doss was able to slam
the officer’s hand against the side of the windshield, knocking
his weapon out of his hand and sending it down into the mud as an
intense struggle ensued.

Bay knew her father was battling the officer and she now had a
life-altering conundrum on her hands—help her father—or
take the five hundred thousand dollar shot. Trusting in her father’s
abilities to hold his own, Bay opted for the latter.

Lucky, meanwhile, wasn’t getting a response on the Nextel. He
thought about aborting the mission, but he and Doss had never
discussed not having contact; on top of that, this was the only time
Tiva had been able to lay eyes on Hayate with a clear shot. Lucky
also knew the Onishi brothers were leaving for Japan the following
morning, so to take down one would be better than none in his mind.
The long-time gangster was now about to take the gamble of his life.
Hitting one of the brothers could possibly expose the fact the
businessmen had a price on their heads, but a move had to be made
quickly. “Fuck it! The Asians will weather this storm and we’ll
back ‘em,” Lucky said lowly. “T-top? Take him
down.”