Path of Ranger. Volume 1

By RJ

JB is a young gangster with a tough attitude coming from the cold streets of Los-Angeles. Guided by his ingenious perspective on life he plays the game close to the edge, between life and death, searching for his special but yet unknown purpose. Suddenly, fate throws him into the mysterious world of the future where he faces challenges that the one couldn’t imagine. He has to go through a long and dangerous path in becoming the last advantage of his kind in its struggle of surviving.

• Language: English
• Publisher: RJ
• Release date: Nov 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311165909

RJ

Hey there, Guys!My name is RJ. I'm the biggest sci-fi fan in Universe! In my universe at least :)So I'm a writer, CGI Artist and a fairly cool fellow, I hope.Feel free to write me anytime.I hope that my writing will bring you lots of joy.facebook.com/yoskiytip

Book preview

Path of Ranger

Volume 1

by RJ

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2015 by RJ. All Rights Reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be produced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher except for the brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 9781311165909

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

ANNOTATION

LOS ANGELES

TEN HOURS TO EAST

UP AND OUT

THE ISLAND

THEY WERE 33

DAY IN THE JUNGLE

SAY ‘HELLO’ TO THE DEVIL

THE SECRET OF THE ISLAND

GAINED TIME

ESCAPE

NEW WORLD

NEW DIRECTION

RANGER JUICE

FIVE YEARS LATER

ANNOTATION

JB is a young gangster with a tough attitude coming from the cold streets of Los Angeles. Guided by his ingenious perspective on life, he plays the game close to the edge, between life and death, searching for his special but yet unknown purpose. Suddenly fate throws him into the mysterious world of the future where he faces challenges that he couldn’t imagine. He must go down a long and dangerous path toward becoming the last advantage his kind has in its struggle for survival.

LOS ANGELES

2016. Los Angeles. It was a chilly night, fresh breeze flew through the coast, scattering into barely noticeable wind among night streets. It seemed like the last chill before summer. A gas station standing on a hill not far from the highway was glossed with bright lights. Like a glaring oasis surrounded by the darkness of the desert, it was connected to the rest of the world via only an empty road. Yellow street lights and shop windows made this place noticeable for many miles around. Usually it was flooded with movement, but not today. Just one man, a lone biker, was the only visitor for the whole night. He was standing still, leaned up against his black-yellow Ducati Monster. He was waiting for someone.

The man was tall and had light, barely tanned skin. His massive bodybuilder form in combination with his six and a half foot height made an illusion of a fully adult man, but his face was young, it appeared twenty years old or so. He was handsome, not too pretty, but more like proportionally pleasant, with a straight forehead, average cheeks, full lips, and narrow nose. He looked manly, but at the same time had a calmly wise look in his eyes. His hair was dark and long, braided from the forehead to the neck in cornrow style. On this left side of his neck was barely noticeable bullet scar. He wore a red-white leather racing jacket and pants. A pair of heavily used red leather Converse All Stars were on his feet. The leather looked not too old but had been cruelly abused, with metal brackets on the soles and heels. A white t-shirt was under an unzipped jacket, and a precious white gold diamond chain hung from his neck, down to his midsection. The chain held the letters JB on its end. A pair of gloves and a helmet lied on motorcycle’s seat beside him.

JB’s stared at the asphalt in front of him, his look was abstracted and his face completely motionless. Lots of thoughts were on his mind. It was clear that he spent quite some time there, he probably meant to meet someone and that person was late. The only connection between JB’s thoughts and the outside world was in the paper cup that he held. He looked at leftovers of the coffee that was hot a long time ago, the sweet bitterish taste of which woke his attention from time to time. Occasionally he moved the cup to his lips to take a sip, but even this mechanical motion looked as lifeless as the surrounding desert emptiness. This condition of his was broken by a moving vehicle. JB snapped back to life. He pushed forward from his bike, stood straight, and walked a few steps ahead. The sound of the car’s engine was strange to him, but he was certain that they were his comrades.

After taking a couple more steps forward, JB swung his hand lightly to throw the cup with some coffee still in it into the trashcan. Although he wasn’t watching the flying cup, the motorcyclist knew that he had missed by the absence of the characteristic sound. The dramatic appearance he was aiming for got ruined. So JB dropped his far-fetched image and walked to pick up the cup, after which he roughly threw it into the trash.

Yo! B! a man’s voice sounded from behind. What used to be perfect silence now filled with footsteps and the quiet sound of rap music coming from the car.

The motorcyclist got up at full height then looked at the young black guy who was standing in front of him. A black BMW-X6 was behind him. Another black man came from the car. The door closed, so the sound of music faded. A running engine was the only sound left. It seemed quite soft and pleasant.

These two were Tyris and Markus. They looked JB’s age, maybe somewhat older. Both dressed in street style: wide jeans, white sneakers, baseball caps, Tyris wore long white t-shirt and a vest, Markus had a hoodie and baseball cap. These bright outfits decorated with precious chains and the dark skin covered in various ink gave them quite a bit of style. They both wore respirators.

Yo! Just take a look at that! Ain’t that ‘Santa-Boy’ in town?! Markus shouted in excitement when checking out JB’s red-white motorcycle suit. Is it Chinese Christmas or something?

Ho-ho-ho! You’re late, JB said when shaking hands with Tyris. They slapped palms, shook it and slightly bumped their shoulders.

Come on, man, Tyris responded smiling.

JB did the same with Markus.

Sup, B! Markus said, looking up into big guy’s eyes. Why aren’t you wearing a mask?

The danger zone ends around a mile from here. We’re safe.

The guys glanced at each other and removed the masks. It looked like it had been a while since either one of them had made a deep breath. JB stared at Tyris.

Check out this ride, man. Pretty sweet, right? Markus started to brag about his brand new car.

The big guy glanced at the vehicle once more, and he didn't look much impressed.

BMW... What? Are you Russian? These are everywhere there.

Really? Markus asked, disappointed.

Yeah, really, JB confirmed.

Actually, JB wasn't talking sincerely. He just wanted to tease his comrade.

Fucking Russians, Markus commented when taking out a cigarette.

So, you ever visited Moscow these days? Tyris asked.

Not exactly… JB looked over his shoulder where his bike was standing near the trash containers.

Oh, Monster, Tyris checked the motorcycle. What happened to 996?

It blew up, JB said and rushed to change the subject. So, what’s the news?

You’re in trouble, man, Tyris landed his palm on his white comrade’s shoulder.

In big… big trouble, slowly nodding, Markus emphasized.

D-Kay?

D-Kay, Saint Frankie, Columbians, police… Even Big Dog ain’t looking sure. This time you managed to disserve all of them. Tyris was explaining. Want my advice? Run while you can.

Tyris, did I ask you a question, or did I ask for advice? Huh? JB said demandingly.

If our source’s right, the whole city is gonna be sealed by the National Guard. They’ll set up a curfew. They’ll be searching. And they won’t stop until they find who did this, Markus was sharing Tyris's mood.

It’s a time bomb, you know it, B. As soon as the cloud starts to fade, and they’ll get their brains straight, the cops are gonna fill the streets. Then we all are going down! Tyris continued. Now the question is: which one of them is getting to you first?

You're our bro, B, but you don’t have many options here, Markus added.

So, go away? Run away? This is a solution, right? JB got thinking.

The light skin thug was staring into his friend’s eyes, and at that very moment he was full of hate towards him for even suggesting such cowardice.

Jerry, D-Kay has a small army. His dogs run most the territory closest to us. You can’t fight him.

He’s right, B. Be wise, dude, Markus took his part in convincing his boss too.

‘I’ can’t? Since when did ‘We’ become ‘I,' Tyris?

JB, you know that we always got your back! But not this time. This time we’re all gonna die, Tyris was very convincing. It sure looked like he wanted to help, but his eyes were full of fear, and not for Jerry’s life, but for his own.

What do you think, Markus, JB switched his stare to the second gangster. Fighting or bailing? Ah?

Yo! D-Kay is like insane, you know! He wants Lower Compton, and he ain’t gonna stop! He’s gonna kill everyone, from big fish to small. And he’s gonna use any approach he can. They’ll kill you in your sleep if they have to!

JB, in all we went through together, you’ve always been true to your people, to the rules of honor and respect, but this is your weakness, Tyris took the initiative. Before D-Kay puts his life on the line, he’s gonna use the lives of hundreds of young boys, same as we are. How long have we known each other? If I have learned anything about you throughout these years it’s that you will never bring hundreds of people into a grinder. Not for nothing.

So, I have to choose: to sacrifice most of our men, to betray my beliefs and grime my soul forever, or walk away like a coward. But, if we ain’t doing it, what is gonna happen to our hood? These savages are gonna tear it apart!

Saving lives ain’t no cowardice, being sane, that’s what it is. A coward wouldn’t listen to his conscience, but to act as everyone is expecting.

Tyris, you were my conscience all these years, that’s why you were my right hand. So here’s the choice: to make a massacre and give up life for our hood or walk?

This is your decision, B. We’re gonna be here for you no matter what you choose, Markus said.

Jerry was standing with his arms resting on his chest, he was all in his thoughts. A lot depended on this decision. The biker gained back that old motionless stare. His lips moved lightly, as if he were mumbling, but he was doing it on purpose to mislead his companions, to make them think that it was hard on him. In a half a minute, he came up with a decision.

Don’t give up your life for the world that won’t give anything for you. Last three years were extremely profitable, but that’s it. We’re done.

This is the right choice, my man, Tyris said.

Tomorrow morning we are gonna gather our people at the crib, tell them to bring all of the guns.

What are you gonna do? Markus asked.

Let them go, JB said. Tyris, you manage the ammunition part, I need all of it in the morning. Markus, you’re on our debts. You two gotta finish by noon.

What’s this all about? Tyris was worried by such instructions, he seemed to think JB was acting differently. In my opinion, the best way would be for you to get on a plane right now and get away from L.A. as far as you can.

The last words made JB switch inside. His look gained focus, a light smirk appeared on his face. This conversation was a test for his guys, and now he knew exactly what to do.

I have to rush, it’s gonna be a long night, and tomorrow’s gonna be a long day. You two, go rest now and tomorrow do everything I told you to.

When the discussion was over the biker said goodbye to his companions. They got into their car and drove away, leaving him in the same position as he was before they arrived. Jerry waited until Tyris and Markus were gone for good. Then he pulled out his phone, it was time to make the call.

JB knew the number by heart, but hadn't called it for the last couple years. While his mind was still processing the decision, his fingers already went jumping among the digits of the screen’s keypad. Just after the gangster dialed, he wondered if it was a good idea to call someone at two a.m. The person answered.

JB, a rough, manly voice sounded.

Hey, sorry for calling so late. We have to talk.

You dare call me? Why do you think that I'm interested in talking to you?

Because I have something to say, JB insisted. So, interested?

A couple seconds of silence passed.

Time and place?

Two hours. Long Beach. Our old spot.

JB disconnected. He shoved the phone into the pocket and froze for some time after. The big guy was thinking about what he had done and what he had to do. Then he turned up his head and switched into motion, no more delays, it was time to act.

Jerry walked to his bike, turned on the engine and put on a helmet and gloves. Then he mounted the seat, removed a kickstand, and rushed to ride. A lone biker in white and red colors disappeared in the night’s darkness, leaving that bright oasis perfectly lifeless.

The night covered the streets with darkness. The sky was clear and the stars were so bright it seemed they might fall down any minute. There weren’t any lights on this side of the city, not a single street light for several blocks. The motorcyclist got to the very end of the city, the docks’ storage zone. He rode near the container rows. The container JB sought was in the very last row. He stopped near it.

Headlights faded with the whisper of the engine. It was it, container number three-four-zero-seven. After getting off the bike, Jerry rushed to remove his helmet but stopped. He remembered the critical atmosphere conditions. The big guy looked around, it was quiet. The sky seemed clear, but it was filled with whitish dust. The closer he got to the city, the denser the ‘cloud’ was. That cloud was the one that had caused the curfew over the city. It was dangerous to breathe without protection there. JB's hand went up to open filter’s flaps on the helmet.

There was nothing but an automobile inside of the container, a blue Ford Navigator, pick-up. Its body was a bit longer than a standard model's, with just enough space to put a sports bike in it. JB got back to the motorcycle to take the key from the vehicle under the seat. Suddenly he winded up, he looked around to check the area. It seemed to him he had heard something, like a closing car door. The gangster hadn’t slept in a long time; it could start messing with his judgment. He scanned the road thoroughly, looking at each neighboring container, but found nothing. The street was dark. One couldn’t see much there. It was a perfect place for doing dirty business.

After a minute of unsuccessful searching JB got back to the Ford and moved it out of the container. Then he made sure that he didn’t leave any trace inside and locked the gates. Using the metal ramp, JB put the bike on the bed of the car. He turned off the engine and fixed the wheels to the bed. Now all the preparations were done. The gangster got into the cabin to continue his movement.

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.

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