No Room for Mercy (29 page)

“I won’t hesitate to take advantage of the guidance,
family,” Doss said as he stood up and poured glasses of wine
for everyone seated at the table. “This here endeavor will make
men and women out of boys and girls. May we succeed by any means
necessary. Salute.”

“Salute,” everybody replied as they all raised their
glasses and toasted rims.”

*******

Junior, meanwhile, was outside the bar hanging with the crew from
Saint Louis. Eddie Cottonwood, his younger brothers Jay-D and Dooney,
and the crew’s up and coming newly-appointed Lieutenant from
Fox Park, Malik Gomez, had traveled from Saint Louis with Doss and
the big three to provide protection during Lucky’s funeral.

It was understood by all involved that the family was in the
beginning stages of a war that was being instigated by a Mexican gang
of drug dealers from Fox Park—Malik’s neighborhood—and
Junior, who was scheduled to return to Saint Louis shortly after his
father’s funeral, had an assignment for Malik, who’d
given the family some valuable information.

A week earlier, Malik had showed Jay-D an article that detailed a
missing young female from the Fox Park neighborhood. Malik always
read the paper and watched the news while over to his trap house and
he believed that the missing girl had something to do with what down
in Saint Charles because she was known to hang with two sisters off
Ann Avenue. The girl’s mother mentioned in the article that her
missing daughter’s last text was that of, “
I love you,
mommy.”

When Jay-D saw the picture Malik had showed him in the papers, he
immediately recognized the young female as that of the woman who’d
jogged onto Elm Street with the puppy on the leash the day of the
robbery and relayed the information to Doss. Doss, in turn, took that
news and informed Junior that the names Toodie and Phoebe Perez were
connected to the hit.

The Chicago Gang now had The Perez sisters on their radar, but they
weren’t easy targets, nor were they the only ones in on the
hit, the family knew. To add to the difficulty, Malik Gomez operated
in the same neighborhood as Toodie and Phoebe, so his life would be
in jeopardy if ever the click from Ann Avenue learned he was working
for the crew in Saint Charles.

Tactic would have to be used in order to take down Toodie and Phoebe
without bringing repercussions on Malik, who was willing to bear the
brunt of the storm whenever the Chicago retaliated against two of
those they now knew, were responsible for the hit on Benito, Gaggi
and Lucky.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

RANDOM ACTS

Eighteen year-old Dawk was the middle of a game of dominoes at the
last booth inside
Connections
with Jay-D and Dooney on a cool
and rainy night shortly before nine ‘o’ clock. It was now
mid-October of 2002, two weeks after Lucky’s funeral and
another search for Toodie and Phoebe was about to get underway on
this night. A fresh shipment of cocaine was being moved and all the
crew’s soldiers in the Saint Louis vicinity were armed with
M-14 submachine guns supplied by JunJie. The streets weren’t
talking much, but they need not be; the Chicago Gang knew who they
were gunning for—the Perez sisters—the only problem was
the fact that Toodie and Phoebe were nowhere to be found. It was as
if they’d vanished into thin air.

Dawk made a fifteen count play and was soon greeted by Tiva. “You
going do that thing with Malik tonight?” she asked her brother
as she took a seat.

“Yeah. We just gone spin a couple of corners in Fox Park and
head over to the safe house in Granite City.”

“You gone be okay?”

“Yeah I got it.” Dawk answered.

“You going solo tonight, homeboy,” Jay-D said as he laid
a domino down. “What’s up with that, player?”

“Got a li’l something I wanna try out on dude. Malik stay
over in Fox Park, you know?”

Seventeen year-old Jay-D ran his hands through his braids and under
his chin and said, “Man, I put you up on Malik at Lucky
funeral. He solid.”

“I know that’s your boy and all, but we gotta be sure we
can trust this cat, understand?” Dawk asked as he leaned in and
stared Jay-D in the eyes coldly.

“I feel ya’. Do what you gotta do then, big dog.”

Fifteen year-old Dooney sat across from T-top mixing the dominoes for
a new game, all the while smiling at the sexy seventeen year-old.
Whereas Jay-D was a slender dark-skinned young man with a thin beard
and braids, his brother Dooney was a light-skinned bald-faced chubby
lad with a smooth, baby face. He looked every bit like his oldest
brother, Eddie Cottonwood when he was younger, only lighter.

“Say, T-top,” Dooney said, putting on his killer smile,
“want you come and sit next to me and let me tell ya’
something good.”

“I can hear you from here, Dooney.” Tiva sighed.

“Nahh. They got too many ears hustlin’. This here
private.”

“Boy, ain’t nothing you gotta say to me private.”

“You gone come around one day. I’m good for you,
already.”

“You get on my nerves, already.”

“Already,” Jay-D said as he sipped on a Heineken. “Yo,
Dawk. You sure you don’t need nobody to go with you on this
one?”

“Nahh,” Dawk replied as he hopped up from the table. “I
be back in a couple of hours.”

At age eighteen, Dawk Holland stood 6’4” and weighed a
solid two hundred pounds. Years of working the ranch had given him a
near perfect physique and he was in the best shape ever. It was
obvious he had Native American blood flowing through his veins from
his tan complexion, somewhat flat face and long, black hair, which he
often wore in single ponytail, but other facial features, namely the
dark eyes and full lips, put his African American side on full
display. Dawk’s physique and rugged appearance left nothing to
the imagination, one could merely look into his dark eyes and knew he
was a man about business and could handle his own. He eased through
the lounge area of
Connections
, his muscular frame towering
over most of the people inside the bar as he made his way to the
front door and stepped outside where he met up with Junior.

“Eh, I thought you was never gonna come outta there. All set?”
Junior asked as he stood out in the rain with an umbrella alongside
two soldiers.

“Yeah. I’m gone take the Escalade. You put that tool up
in there?” Dawk asked as he zipped his black leather jacket,
placed a pair of sunshades over his eyes and pulled down on his black
skull cap

“Yeah. Got it all set,” Junior said as he stepped back
under the canopy, trying to keep his silk suit dry as the rain had
picked up. “How the fuck can you see wearing those shades at
night?”

“When you get on my level you’ll understand one day,
youngin’.” Dawk joked.

“Youngin’? While you were out chasing chickens I was
puttin’ in work.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Hey, you shouldn’t. Where you gettin’ off on
interstate forty-four? I killed two guys right there you know? On the
opposite side at the red light.”

“Your daddy told me about that. That was about ten years ago,
right?”

“Nearly to the day. A few months over, but yeah. Two Crips that
had it comin’. That neighborhood been poppin’ for years.
I wasn’t surprised when Malik said the people behind that shit
came outta there, but I wasn’t expecting it. Them mutherfuckas
probably was babies when I was out there puttin’ in work.”

“As days go by,” Dawk said as he pulled out his cell
phone and called Malik. “I used to chase chickens. Look at me
now,” he ended as he dapped Junior and walked off. “Yo,
I’m on my way. Meet me at Mickey D’s in twenty minutes,”
Dawk told Malik before he started the SUV and pulled off.

“Two hours!” Junior yelled as Dawk bent the curb, blowing
the horn as he cruised pass
Connections
and left the
neighborhood.

*******

“
Tienes el producto listo para el swap, perra?”
(You got the product ready for the swap, bitch?) Toodie asked Phoebe
as the two pulled into the parking lot of the McDonald’s on
Jefferson Avenue, just outside of Fox Park.

“I got your bitch, hoe.” Phoebe snapped as Toodie pulled
the Hummer up to the drive thru speakers and ordered three double
quarter pounder meals and a ten piece nugget combo.

“Y’all pull around,” the cashier remarked.

Toodie and Phoebe had been on the move ever since the hit in Saint
Charles, moving back and forth from their main trap house on Ann
Avenue back to their other trap house in East Saint Louis. The Perez
sisters knew their previous actions in Saint Charles warranted
retaliation and they were always on alert. Laying their heads in the
same place for an extended period of time would be a dumb move on
their part so they were always on the go, just like tonight; but they
were steadily making money despite their peripatetic lifestyle.

Toodie pulled up to the drive thru window, music blasting, she and
Phoebe toking blunts and talking plenty trash as they waited for
their order.

“
Mueva el lento asnos!”
(Move your slow asses!)
Toodie yelled from behind the wheel.

“
Cierra tu boca, Toodie!”
(Shut your mouth,
Toodie!) one of the servers replied through laughter.

Everybody in Fox Park knew and loved Toodie and Phoebe. The two were
very popular females in the neighborhood and received much love.
Whenever they came through the drive thru at the McDonald’s on
Jefferson Avenue it was always an event because the crew inside the
business all resided in Fox Park. Cars would wait longer than usual
because Toodie and Phoebe would always hold up the line with their
antics.

The manager inside the place sold ounces of cocaine on the side and
whenever she needed to score, she would have Toodie and Phoebe ride
up to her store and place a special order. Upon receiving their food,
whoever was driving would tell the cashier she was shorted on her
order and the bag would be handed back to the manager with the
cocaine inside. The order would then be handed back to the driver
with the buy money tucked inside by the manager. Sometimes the
manager took longer than normal because she had to be careful not to
be seen. On this night, however, things went smoothly. Toodie grabbed
the bag with the buy money and pulled out of the drive thru and made
a left turn onto Jefferson Avenue, headed out of Fox Park towards
Interstate-44.

A few minutes later, Malik and Dawk had both pulled into the
McDonald’s at the same time. Malik dapped his soldier and
jumped out his Cadillac STS and ran and hopped into Dawk’s
Escalade, both gangsters unknowingly having just missed Toodie and
Phoebe, who’d vacated the drive thru only minutes earlier and
were now headed over to East Saint Louis for a week or so.

“What’s up, homes?” Malik asked as he hopped in and
pulled the hood down on his sweatshirt. “Fucked up night
tonight, man. I don’t think nobody gone be out tonight. So
unless we plan on doing a kick door, we wasting time.”

“You never know what you gone see in this here game,”
Dawk said as he wheeled out of the parking lot and made a right turn
onto Jefferson Avenue, headed into Fox Park.

Dawk and Malik circled the neighborhood several times. Cruising down
Ann Avenue once, and passing by Fox Park itself, which was located on
Saint Louis Street. Just as Malik had said earlier, the entire
neighborhood was dead.

“Maybe tomorrow or the next day we can catch ‘em
slipping, Dawk.” Malik remarked.

“You right,” Dawk replied as he pulled into a convenience
store’s parking lot where he removed a .38 revolver from his
jacket and sat it in the console. He then asked Malik if he wanted a
drink. Malik declined, but when Dawk entered the store, he watched
Malik’s moves. The young man sat still, only looking around on
occasion to guard his back.

“We need to ride over to Granite City and pick up some loot
right quick,” Dawk told Malik once he returned to the vehicle
with a bag of potato chips. He grabbed his .38 and tucked it back
into his jacket and began pulling out if the parking lot.

“Granite City,” Malik asked causally. “If we gone
ride way out there, I want me a beer, homes.” he said as he
opened the passenger side door.

“I got you,” Dawk replied as he pulled his .38 out again
and sat it on the dash.

Malik eyed the chrome handgun gun as it lay on the dash and chuckled
slightly. This was the fifth or sixth time Dawk had sat his gun down
in front of him; to Malik, it seemed as if Dawk was trying to get him
to pick his gun up the whole time they were riding together. Malik
had an idea what was going down so he picked the gun up, willingly
going along with the play he believed was unfolding. When Dawk
climbed back into the Escalade, Malik pulled the gun on him and
cocked it.

“This is what you was wondering, right?” Malik asked
calmly. “Would I do this shit here or not, right?”

“You got the ups on me, dude,” Dawk said as he eyed the
barrel of the gun. “Pull the trigger if you want to.”

Malik aimed the gun at the floor board and pulled the trigger, but
the gun didn’t fire, just like he knew he wouldn’t. “The
one you got behind your back is the one I need to be worrying about,
right, Dawk?” he asked.

“How you know?” Dawk asked as he pulled a .9mm from his
backside and laid it down on the dash.

“My daddy taught me the loyalty test a long time ago, homes.”
Malik said as he sunk back into his seat.

“So, you didn’t have it your mind to kill me tonight?”

“Or any other night, homes. I’m down with you and your
people, already. Who taught you that trick, though?”

“My father had a suspicion that this man that worked for him
was trying to rob him,” Dawk began as he pulled out of the
parking lot. “So he had the guy stay behind and help count
money, making sure there was only one gun inside the building that
was within reach. My daddy said he laid a three fifty-seven down on
the black jack table and got up to get a drink.”