Nash and Sonny and Teddy and the other Sonny
Note: I didn't realize that there was already a Nash Bridges/Sonny Crockett cross-over story here till after I started writing mine. But, I believe the story lines are different enough as to avoid any fist fights. Nash Bridges, a seasoned San Francisco police inspector teams up with Sonny Crockett, a young, impulsive vice cop from Miami to thwart the plans of Teddy Malone, a veteran master criminal who has run across Sonny Burnett, a drug and gun smuggling low-life.
Sub-marines and Sub-machine guns
"Hey Burnett! Get over here. Mr. Malone will meet with you now. Make it quick."
Sonny Burnett was sweating, not just from the Miami sun, but also from the thought of blowing this deal. Promising to buy 5 tons of coke from a Colombian dealer and then not delivering is detrimental to your long term health. He knew Colombians didn't just put a gun to your to your head and pull the trigger. He had heard the stories about having limbs sliced off while you're still alive, dis-disembowelment, and doctors keeping you alive so they can torture you for days on end.
Walking through the lobby of the hotel, all those thoughts were running through his fevered mind. After what seemed like a mile, he sat down in a small wooden chair next to Teddy, who was leaning back in an overstuffed upholstered armchair.
"Hello Mr. Malone, I'm Sonny..."
Malone cut him off.
"I know who you are and what you are. What can you do for me?"
Sonny went straight into his pitch.
"I've got a guy who bought an old soviet sub, and he registered it as a sight-seeing boat. We can haul over ten thousands pounds of coke in one trip. Now, if you're on board, we'll have enough capital to make that happen. I also got a harbor master on payroll in Key West, so we can unload, no problems. I transport it up to my warehouse in Miami where it is cut and packaged. Now here's the good part." Sonny started to get excited about telling this - "Most of the baggage handlers of the Sunshine Cruise Lines are in my crew. They load my packages on cruise ships, sail them through the Panama Canal, and then unload them all along the West Coast! "
Teddy set his drink down, and leaned forward. "So all you need is my capitol? Like I said, what do I get out of this?"
"Fifty percent. That's normal."
"That's normal, If you paid for half of the product. I'm paying for all of it, you're just supplying transportation. I'll take 80% off the top. And I'll have to check out your operation."
Sonny didn't have to think long about taking a smaller cut. This was going to be the biggest deal he ever brokered, and trying not to respond too quickly to Teddy's acceptance, said "O K. I can make that work." On the inside, he was jumping up and down like a five year old on Christmas morning.
"Hey, Nash!" Lt. Shimamura shouted across the room, "come over here. I got someone you should meet."
"This is Sonny Crockett, a detective out of Miami Vice." Turning towards Sonny, he continued, "This is Inspector Nash Bridges, SIU"
They both stuck out there hands to shake, but Nash held the grasp a little longer than Sonny was expecting. Nash always believed the adage – Clothes make the man- and dressed accordingly. Latest in style, clean in design and appearance, and nothing too attention grabbing. He wondered, silently, of course, "who roles up the sleeves of a suit jacket?" When he realized he was still holding onto Sonny's hand, he quickly let go, and hurriedly greeted his fellow officer.
"Welcome to San Francisco, Sonny. If there's anything you need, just ask"
"Hey, Nash!"
"What do you want Harv? Cant you see I'm busy! I've got an out-of-town guest I'm trying to impress."
"Your old friend Teddy Malone just popped up on a watch list. He was on a flight from Panama city, Panama to SFO. He arrived this morning. And, he was using his real name, I don't get it. He's also booked a suite at the Mark Hopkins, again using his real name"
"I'll have to go say 'Hi' later. Sonny, let's go up top and talk. It's quieter up there," Nash said with a wry smile as they both walked by Harvey.
As they settled into a couple of deck chairs arranged around a small table, Sonny began – "I've been following a shipment of stolen Uzi's for about a month. They were lifted from a gun importer's warehouse in Miami. They got away with 500 units, and we're still trying to figure out how much ammo was lost."
"And you think they ended up here?" Nash asked.
"I'm hoping they ended up here. They could be scattered all across the country by now. At least the guy who stole them is here. Sonny Burnett. A criminal who deals in everything from stolen cars to smuggling people."
"How can we help?"
"Right now, I'm just informing you that I'm in town, and will be working the case. I'll be checking out a few leads in the next couple of days. I'll get back to you when I have more."
The Warehouse Problems
"What the hell are those!?" Teddy was not happy to see wooden crates marked "Israel" mixed in with his bundles of coke.
"I got a great deal on some Uzi's" was Sony's reply. "The buyer is coming over now. We'll make an another quarter million in profit for these. Teddy, that's an extra $125,00.00 for you," Sonny said with a gleam of self satisfaction.
"Do you think I care about a $125,000.00 dollars!?" Guns are helluva lot easier to track and trace than plastic bags full of powder! You've jeopardized my entire operation for what I spend on vacation. Get these out of my warehouse, now!"
Trying to regain his composure, he added "and address me as Mr. Malone."
Sonny began to realize just how mad Teddy was, and sheepishly replied "the buyer will be here in less than an hour to pick them up."
"I hope you're correct. I am going back to my hotel, but I'll leave my two associates here with you. They will help you load the guns and assist you if your negotiations turn south." Teddy informed him, trying to act nonchalant. His associates new what "assist" meant.
So did Sonny. Now it was Burnett's turn to act like this was just normal business.
"Thank you Mr. Malone, I appreciate the help." Sonny's sense of self preservation kicked in as he tried to come up with a plan. It wasn't easy to think, staring at two over-sized men holding Mac 10's.
He would have to think quicker, as two Humvee's, one behind the other, pulled into the warehouse, less than a minute after Teddy drove out.
Four men got out of the first Humvee. The two from the front seats walked over to Sonny. Two from the back seat joined up on the driver's side of the truck and stood, almost like soldiers at attention, beside the truck. They exchanged glances with Teddy's men, and resumed watching Sonny and their boss.
"Are you Sonny?" asked the smaller of the two.
"Yes. And you must be Marcus."
"So, let's see what you got"
Sonny, still in 'what the hell do I do now' mode walked over to one of the crates and pried it open. The guns were in separate crates than the ammo, so pulling out a gun and shooting everyone was not an option. He took out one box, and as he was removing the gun from its' protective packing, Marcus and his driver started eyeing the large plastic wrapped bundles arranged around the warehouse.
Teddy's men noticed the gun buyers surveying the contents of the warehouse and started to raise their guns and move forward. They didn't even have a full grasp on their weapons before automatic fire rang out, and they fell to the ground. The men in the trailing Humvee were now out of their vehicle, holding smoking guns.
Sonny was now in a full state of shock. Slowly turning towards where Teddy's men lay, he watched, in what seemed to him like slow motion as puddles of blood formed an outline around their motionless bodies.
He didn't even hear when Marcus, not phased by the gunfire and death around him asked,
"What's this?"
He strolled over to one the large bundles and pulled a six inch Buck knife from his belt. He jabbed it through the several layers of thick plastic outer wrapping and into one of the individual packages contained within. He drew it out slowly, and smiled as he saw the white powder on the tip.
"You holding out on us, Sonny?"
Sonny was slowly regaining some of his senses and stammered "It's not mine"
"You're damn right it's not yours."
Marcus turned towards his men and started issuing orders.
"You two," he pointed to the two that came out his car, "load up the guns and ammo, and the rest of you load up the coke."
Two more men emerged from the trailing Humvee and started towards the coke bundles.
It took four of them to roll, as delicately you can roll a cube, over to the trucks. It took five of them to lift the 500 pound bundles onto the trucks.
Sonny was starting to comes to terms with the developing situation when the boss walked over and grabbed his elbow.
"You come with us, for now. You might be useful later."
Sitting in the back seat of one of the trucks, Sonny's mind was clear enough to realize what just happened. He got two of Teddy's best men killed, lost a quarter million in cash, and a ton of Teddy's coke.
"I would have been better off if they killed me" was the thought running over and over in his head.
Tony B. and Oprah
"Did you get any leads?" Nash asked, as Sonny Crockett walked into the station.
"Word is, there's a large shipment of guns about to be distributed around here. I don't know when, where or how. I also heard there is a very large amount of money moving around, much more than just for my guns."
"Well, if there's money moving around,,," Nash was talking softly, almost to himself. He glanced over towards Joe, who had perked up his ears and was leaning over his desk to hear better.
"Tony B!" Nash and Joe said the name at the same time.
"You and Harv go pick him up," Nash instructed Joe.
Nash looked over to Sonny, and suggested "why don't you go back to your hotel and get some rest. I'll call you tomorrow."
"We got Tony sitting at the other end of the boat, Nash. He's not saying anything."
"Thanks, Joe. Maybe I got something that will help him talk."
Nash was looking over at Harvey, who had his dog laying at his feet.
Harvey saw Nash looking at him and his dog and weakly explained, "Yea, Nash, I know, I know, but King was feeling lonely and neglected, so I had to bring him with me."
"That's not a problem Harv. Fact is, I'm gonna need you both in a minute. Come on Joe, let's what Tony's got to say."
"Hey Nash!" What's the deal!? I was just sitting on my sofa watching Oprah when these two barge in and drag me down here."
"Well, Tony, we need some information on all that money you're managing. How much and for whom." Nash was his congenial self, being as non-confrontational as possible.
"What money? Like I said, I've been keeping to myself, lately. Doing Tai Chi in Golden Gate Park, working on my memoirs."
"Now, why don't I believe you?" Nash's tone was getting a little harsher. "What would we find if we searched your apartment?"
"You've got no right to do that, Nash!"
"Do you smell that, Joe?" Nash said with a quizzical look.
Joe had no idea where Nash was going with this, but, playing along, he crinkled his nose and took an exaggerated sniff, "Yea, what is that? It's familiar."
"Inspector Leek!" Nash yelled across the room at Harvey, who was watching the interrogation with bemused interest.
"Bring that K-9 Unit with you. I think I've got some drugs over here"
Harvey got up from his chair, and King got up with him. They both walked over to Nash and Joe, and Harvey stood right behind Tony. King stopped, and laid down at Harvey's feet. Which was also by Tony's feet.
"That's a Hit!" Joe exclaimed.
"Yea, we've got a positive ID for Methamphetamine. That's enough for a search warrant, isn't it Joe?"
"I'll call Judge Jacobs right now. He's always ready to sign anything for you, Nash"
"O K! O K! Maybe I remember hearing someone saying something about a big deal going down."
"You dialing, Joe?" Nash was really pushing Tony.
"It was the Fusco brothers! Put the phone down, Joe. Please."
Joe set his phone on the table, wearing pleased smile.
"I heard they're getting their whole years worth of supply in one deal. That's all I know. Honest."
"Thanks, Tony. You can get back to Oprah, now."
"Hey, Nash! How 'bout a ride back to my place? You guys brought me here. I don't have my car with me."
"Were not a taxi service, Tony. You're a big boy, you can find your own way home." Nash said, as he walked back towards is desk.
Meeting Mr. Malone
The next morning, Nash gave Sonny a call.
"Sonny? This is Nash. Meet me in the Mark Hopkins lobby at 10:00 AM. I think it's time you met Teddy Malone. He's here for some reason, and I want to find it. He also might have some information on your guns."
Nash was already sitting in the lobby when Sonny strolled in.
Again, Nash was slightly taken aback by Sonny's appearance. A white linen suit jacket, with the sleeves rolled up over a white t-shirt. "Is this what passes for fashion, now?" was the thought that Nash kept to himself.
"C'mon Sonny, Teddy's got a penthouse suite." They both walked over to the elevators, and Nash explained the rules.
"You don't say anything, unless I ask you something."
As they got out of the elevator, Nash repeated his instructions. "This guy is very clever. Don't engage him."
Teddy stood up, holding his drink, as the Nash and Sonny entered the room.
"Have a seat. Would either of you care for a drink?"
"No thanks, we're both driving." Nash replied, as they all sank back into overstuffed leather sofas.
"This is my friend, Sonny. He's never seen an hotel suite quite as fancy as this, so I thought I would show him San Francisco's finest. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all. It's always good to see you, and any of your friends. You sure you don't want anything? I've got a full bar back here," Teddy said, as he motioned behind him at a room length mahogany bar, complete with a bartender.
"Thanks again, but no. So, what brings to our fair city this time?"
"Vacation. I just need a quiet place to relax and enjoy the view."
"Is that what you were doing down in Panama?" Nash asked as non-nonchalantly as possible.
Teddy didn't allow himself show any outward signs of surprise that Nash knew his itinerary, and answered in stride, "Yes, I like it down there. They have nice beaches and warm, tropic waters like Hawaii, but a lot less tourists. When was the last time you had a nice vacation, Nash?"
"On a Cop's salary!? I don't even think about it."
They were both speaking a lot, but neither was offering the other any information of value.
Sonny was having a difficult time enduring this tennis match paced back and forth.
Vice cops don't have time to waste with pleasantries, and Sonny had had enough.
He sat up straight on the sofa, but stopped himself from fully standing.
"I hear you're a heavyweight in this town. Got any inside dirt on automatic weapons moving around?"
Nash winced slightly, but kept the rest of his contempt hidden.
Teddy didn't react at all.
"All I know about guns, is, that Winchester closed a half a point down yesterday."
Those damned guns. Well, anyway, that situation has been resolved, Teddy was thinking.
"We've taken up enough of your time, Teddy, we gotta go. If you need anything while you're here, let me know." Nash stood up and motioned Sonny to get up and head for the door.
They were silent as they walked to the elevator, but once inside, Nash started, "I told you not to talk to him! You don't give out any information to the person your interrogating! And roll down your damn sleeves. You look like an idiot."
The Fusco Bothers Stakeout
"That coffee went right through me, I got to go take a harvey. Call me if anything happens."
"Hilarious, Joe." Harvey was not amused by Joe's joke. Three hours of watching the Fusco brothers eat dinner and drink wine, while they sat in a cramped van eating Cheetos and drinking stale coffee also didn't help Harvey's attitude.
"Here Harv, I brought you a doughnut to say I'm sorry about making fun of your name." Joe said, as he stepped back into the van.
"Thanks, Joe. Where did you get it? I didn't see you go anywhere but the restaurant."
"I snagged it off the dessert cart. It was fresh, about twelve hours ago. If you don't want it…"
"No, no, I'll take it. Hey, didn't you and Caitlin do something with donuts, a while back?"
"That never panned out. I've got something new brewing, and NO partners this time to screw it up."
"I'm so bored, Joe, that I want to hear about your latest harebrained scheme."
"It's not so crazy. This one will work. You know how rich people hire others to walk their dogs? Well, I'm going drive their cars for them."
"You mean, like a chauffeur?"
"No. Just like dogs need to be walked, cars need to be driven. Really rich people have fleets of cars they just look at, but don't drive. I'll hire teens to take their cars out and drive them about ten miles, once a week! Very low overhead, and I only need a small initial capital investment."
"Good luck with that. Hey! We got movement. That looks like Antonio getting into his car."
"Yea. But he's just sitting there. What's he waiting for?"
They both turned around when they heard a large diesel engine coming down the street.
"That looks promising," Harvey said, as he climbed into the drivers seat and started the van.
Antonio pulled out into the street in front of the full sized moving van. As it passed by, they could see Dominick driving. Both vehicles took off slowly, crawling through the crowded San Francisco streets.
"Give Nash a call. I don't think they're going to pick up table cloths and napkins at this hour of the night."
The Final Warehouse Problem
Nash was just sitting down to dinner when his cell rang.
"Hey Nash, this is Joe. Something big is going down, now. Antonio Fusco took off in his car, followed by his brother and a couple of goombahs in a moving van. They're headed south, and we're a block behind them."
"Thanks, Joe. Hey, have you seen Crockett?
"Not since yesterday."
"I'll give him a call. He's a little impulsive and high strung, but that might help us tonight."
Marcus's brain was on overload with the thought of going back and getting all that coke.
"Where's the truck!? When is it going to get here?" Marcus was asking anyone who had the guts to answer. He was pacing around one end of the long table in the middle of his headquarters building. At the other end sat a bewildered Sonny Burnett.
He was neither handcuffed nor shackled to the chair, but he still was not free. He studied his surroundings: A large, unfamiliar building filled with kidnappers; Marcus about ten feet away, standing near several guns that his kidnappers had deposited on the table when they arrived; and the requisite rottweilers guarding all the contents within.
For the first time in his life, Sonny Burnett was hoping to see some cops.
"Marcus! The truck's here, we're all ready to go," one of Marcus's crew announced as he walked into the building.
"What are we gonna do with this guy?" He motioned with his head towards Sonny.
"Hey Sonny, can you drive a forklift?" Marcus asked.
"No,"
"Well then," Marcus said as he picked up a pistol from the table, "I was wrong, you're not useful to us."
He pointed the pistol at Sonny and put one slug through his forehead. The 9 millimeter barely made a sound in the cavernous building.
Sonny slumped forward and fell on the table before completely falling to the ground.
"So, NOW, what are we going to do with this guy?" the crew member asked again.
"We'll burn him up with the other two when we torch the warehouse. Wrap him tightly in plastic. I don't want him oozing out in my truck."
"Nash, we're on the 880, heading south."
"Got it Harv. I'm on the road now, heading your way."
"Hello, Mr. Malone. Antonio Fusco here. I am on the road now, and traffic is very light. I should be at your warehouse at 10:00."
"Fine. I'll meet you there."
-"Nash, we just took the Port of Oakland off ramp. I've got a hunch they got a warehouse down by the docks."
"I've always trusted your hunches, Harv. Stay with them, I'm about five minutes behind you. I couldn't find Crockett, but I was able to scrounge up Evan." Nash was smiling when he said that, Evan was not.
Teddy was feeling good as he pulled up to his warehouse. He was about to unload half his inventory, and collect hundreds of millions of dollars.
His mood changed when he walked in, and the unmistakable stench of decomposing flesh overwhelmed him and his two body guards.
Thinking back, Teddy was only slightly curious when the men he left with Sonny didn't check in. Hired muscle aren't the most the conscientious of employees.
"What the hell is this!?" Antonio was a few steps behind Teddy when he walked into the warehouse. Staring at bullet-riddled bodies was not a foreign sight for any Fusco family member, but seeing them at the beginning of a business transaction was a new experience. "Is this an indication of how you do business? Leaving dead bodies with your inventory?"
"It's just just a minor botheration. It won't interfere with our transaction."
Teddy was smooth and calm on the outside, but steaming on the inside. Quickly scanning his stockpile, he could see those damn guns were gone, but also gone were four bundles of his coke.
"Dominick! Get in here, now! And bring a couple of the guys." Antonio was on his phone before Teddy was finished with his excuses.
"Mr. Fusco, we can all relax, this situation will be resolved immediately and we can conclude our business." Teddy wasn't sure that was true, but he said it, trying to convince himself as much as Antonio.
"What's the problem, Tony?" Dominick asked, as he and two others ran into the warehouse, pistols raised.
Teddy's men backed up against a wall, taking a defensive position, and pulled their guns in preparation for battle.
Teddy stepped between the combating forces and again tried to take control of the room.
Looking towards Antonio's men, he said "Relax! There is no problem."
Turning to his own guys, he reiterated "There's no problems here. Just a slight disruption in closing this deal."
Turning back towards Antonio, he smoothly added "All your product is here, we can load you up, and you can be on your way. You and I can use my secure laptop to transfer the money, while the boys load the truck. Then you can be on your way."
"Fine, let's do this." Antonio wasn't pleased with how this deal was playing out, but at least it was moving forward. "Open up the bay doors on the loading dock so we can back in, load up, and get the hell out of here."
Teddy was smiling again, because at his core, he was a businessman, and this single business transaction was going to make him millions. He would deal with Sonny and the dead bodies after the Fuscos left.
He looked over to his guys and nodded his head, indicating to them to follow Antonio's instructions. One went over to side of building and pushed a large button on the wall, and the doors started to roll up.
"Hey Nash, we stopped. I'm parked behind a warehouse on 5th Avenue. I can't see inside the building, but I watched Antonio and his brother pull up in front. Another car was already here when we arrived. Oh,,,Boss,,,this looks bad."
"What is it, Harvey?"
"I got a Humvee being followed by a semi-truck coming up from the opposite end of the street. Hold on, I can see inside the Humvee now. It's got a driver and three passengers who look like they are about to invade Baghdad."
"Call in Oakland SWAT, and wait for me. I'm about a mile away, I'll be there in less than a minute." Nash was yelling, trying to be heard over the roar of the 'Cuda.
Marcus was riding in the passenger seat of the semi, which gave him a good view of the circus going on in front of the warehouse. A Ferrari, a Lincoln Navigator and a large moving van always mean a major drug transaction; and he was busy calculating the risk/reward outcomes of crashing this party. He had hoped his crew would be the only one there, but he also anticipated that other interested parties might be present.
"All right, everybody just stop here, for a moment," Marcus had his phone in one hand, and a pair of binoculars in the other. "I saw three armed guys already go in, let's see if any more show up."
His adrenaline level only let him sit still for about thirty seconds before he started with his orders.
"O K, let's move. Take the Humvee and park it behind the Navigator to block it in, and we'll put our truck in front of theirs. We don't have to announce ourselves, yet, so let's do this quietly."
Harvey was frantically screaming into his phone, "Nash! Where are you!? This is going down, now!"
"I'm right behind you, Harv."
Nash and Evan had pulled up while Harvey was talking.
Nash closed up his phone got out of the 'Cuda. As he and Evan were walking over to Harvey and Joe's van, Harvey jumped out, eager to explain the situation.
"I requested Oakland SWAT, they said it would take ten minutes to get here. The Humvee and the semi just pulled up and blocked in all the cars that were already here, and now they're just sitting there."
"The door's opening! They're gonna see us in a second! What do we do!" Marcus's driver was frantic, physically jumping in his seat.
"We move in now!" Marcus shouted as he bounded out of the truck.
The three armed men in the Humvee had seen the warehouse door start to open and were already out of their vehicle when Marcus ran by them.
"No need to be quiet anymore," Marcus yelled, as he signaled his men to follow him to the loading dock.
The doors of a warehouse are pretty large and take a while to roll up, giving Marcus and his men time to position themselves. When the door was finally fully opened, the four men had their Uzi's pointed at everyone and everything inside the building.
"Joe, you and Harv work your way around the South side of the building, me and Evan will go around the North side, and we'll try and see whats goin' on." Nash had no plan in mind, but he wanted to see what all these people were doing.
Both teams moved as quietly as possible, and positioned themselves near the front corners of the building.
"Hey, Joe, didn't Nash say he couldn't get a hold of Crockett?"
"Yea, that's why he brought Evan."
"Well, isn't that Crockett getting out of that Humvee?"
"What the hell!? That is Sonny, what is he doing with Marcus's crew? I'll call Nash and tell him what we're seeing, and that we're in position. I hope he has a brilliant plan for us four guys to capture a dozen heavily armed men."
"OK, Mr. Fusco, if you will enter your bank account number here, we can continue." Teddy had set up his laptop to initiate the wire transfer of funds, and was waiting for Antonio to come over to the table, but Antonio was distracted. He seemed to be mesmerized by the slowly opening metal roll up door. The mood inside had become more congenial, but there was still dead bodies about, and tense, armed, warring factions executing illegal procedures. Teddy thought Antonio should be more attentive to the immediate situation.
He was about to suggest that thought to everyone, when he noticed the sight that had Antonio transfixed.
The ensuing gunfire got everyone's attention. Teddy ducked under the table; Antonio dropped and crawled under the table with Teddy; Dominick and his guys ran behind bales of coke, and Teddy's guys got very flat against the walls.
A tactically trained marksman wielding an Uzi with the standard 32 round clip can dispatch multiple platoons of combatants in seconds. Multiplied by four, the level of carnage can grow to biblical levels.
Luckily for Nash, and everyone else in the immediate area, the guys holding these Uzi's were not tactically trained in the use of high powered, military grade weapons. They spent most of their time training on video controllers, playing Grand Theft Auto.
The first couple of rounds fired kicked back the guns harder than the shooters expected, and the gun barrels rose up. Marcus's crew only succeeded in aerating
the warehouse with holes ten to twenty feet above everyone's heads.
After the last echos of gunfire had faded, the men inside the warehouse cautiously emerged from their sheltering positions and took stock of themselves. Finding no blood or new holes, their gangster instincts took hold, and they pointed their weapons at the sound of the gunfire to release a barrage of equally ineffective bullets.
The men outside the warehouse were coming down from the euphoric state induced by the firing of high-powered weapons when they noticed a lot of people getting up and pointing guns back at them. Loaded with adrenaline, they were able to flee into the parking lot and find shelter before the first round of the returning volleys was fired.
"Nash! Nash! Are you all right? What the hell do we do now!?
Harvey and Joe had dropped to the ground and moved several feet back when the gunfire started, and Joe called Nash, hoping for instructions and support.
"Just stay down, and stay calm. SWAT will be here any second." Nash responded, trying to sound more convincing than hopeful. "And yea, I did see Crockett. I think he saw me, too. He was headed this way when the gunfire started."
"Ask him why he's doing driving gang soldiers to a drug buy, before you shoot him, OK Nash?"
"I'll try, Joe, but I can't promise that."
"Helluva party you throw, Teddy," Antonio said as both he and Teddy remained under the table. "Dead bodies to greet us, machine gun fire as an entree,,,what do you have planned for dessert?"
"I will admit we are experiencing some difficulties, but that can be expected with this type of business. I don't hear the automatic weapons anymore, so it sounds like our guys have the situation under control."
"When I'm back in my restaurant with a glass of Cabernet in my hand, that's when I feel it will be under control. Till then, I continue to doubt everything you say."
This night was not going at all the way Teddy had envisioned. Starting with a probable double cross by Sonny Burnett that cost him two men and a fifth of his inventory, and possibly ending with a gun battle that could cost him his life.
"Hey Bridges! Don't shoot! It's me, Crockett." Sonny was ducking behind the Fusco's moving van, working his way towards Nash and Evan.
"I'm gonna need a few more reasons not shoot, Crockett. Keep your hands where I can see them and get over here," Nash bellowed, as he and Evan crouched down by the corner of the warehouse.
"I didn't have time to call you, things were moving too fast. I infiltrated this gang a couple of days ago after I learned they were the ones that had my guns," Crockett said in a soft tone, that he hoped would calm Nash down a bit.
It didn't.
"You want me to believe, that in less than two days, you got so deep into a major street gang that your hanging with their leader and were made a player?
How did you possibly pull that off?"
"I heard they needed a large truck for a drug deal, so I acquired a semi and gave it to them."
"You stole a truck and gave it to some murderous thugs!? Nash was getting more irate as Sonny was telling his incredulous tale. "You KNEW this "drug deal" was so huge that they needed a semi, and you knew they were packing Uzi's, and still you felt you didn't need to take 30 seconds to call me?"
"You're the one that told me not to give out more information than required. I was handling it. Right now, let's concentrate on getting out of here alive."
Nash was fuming, but he also thought living through the current situation was the first objective. Schooling Crockett on proper procedure could come later.
"Hey Marcus, let's get out of here, screw the coke."
Marcus couldn't tell who said that, as he was crouched behind the wheel of his Humvee, but he thought it was a good idea. "OK, everyone, get back to truck, we're outa here!"
As the other three scurried back to Humvee, Marcus crawled into the driver's seat and got as low as possible. When the rest of his crew had jumped in, he asked "Who's got the keys?"
"I got their keys and the extra ammo, so we don't have to worry about Marcus giving us any trouble," Crockett said, "only about the guys in the warehouse."
"Marcus? That's Marcus and the 19th Street gang? How many guys did he bring?", Nash asked.
"Three shooters, and two drivers. I drove the Humvee, and we had a newbee driving the semi. I saw him take off running as soon as the fire-fight started. He's probably in San Jose by now."
"So, that's just four. That's workable," Nash said as he pulled out his phone and hit speed dial. "Hey, Joe, I got Crockett with me. No, he's still alive. The gang in the parking lot is down to four, and they should be out of ammo. Start working your way towards us, and we'll meet you out there."
"Dominick! Check out front, tell me what's going on."
"Hang on sec, Tony, I want to make sure it's safe to move."
Dominick started to work his way forward, maneuvering around bales of coke till he got to the door opening. He stayed inside the building to peer out into the parking lot.
"There's some guys walking around a truck out there. And a couple of guys in the truck. The ones outside look like they're searching for something. Oh shit!, there are three men coming up from the right, and a couple more coming more coming from the left. Hold on. It looks like they're going for the guys around the truck, they're not heading this way."
"Good," Antonio responded, "Maybe they will kill each other, and we can get out of here. Close that giant door and put someone on the front door to keep an eye the parking lot."
The giant loading bay door closing was just the distraction Nash's crew needed to slip into the parking lot and get behind Marcus's men. As Marcus and his gang paused momentarily to watch the door, Nash and Sonny eased up within a few feet of Marcus.
"Looking for these?" Crockett asked, holding up car keys in one hand and his Bren Ten in the other.
The parking lot wasn't quite as brightly lit as inside the warehouse, but Marcus was able to clearly see Crockett pointing a gun at him. As he started to recover from his surprise at seeing someone else in the area, he turned slowly and saw Nash also pointing a gun at him. His men had initially turned towards where they heard Crockett's voice, but now realized, wherever they turned, there were men pointing guns at them.
"Joe, you and Harv cuff and search these guys, we'll keep 'em covered." Nash motioned with his gun to direct the four to lean against the truck. They had done this move enough, they didn't need to be told to put their hands on the truck and spread their feet apart.
"Is one of these guys Sonny Burnett?" Nash asked Crockett.
Crockett tensed slightly, glanced over to the semi's trailer and said "No, but I'm sure he's going to turn up, eventually."
"Hey! Those guys are cops! They just arrested everyone in the parking lot," the man stationed at the front door yelled, as he ran back into the main floor. "This place is about to be flooded with cops!"
Both Fusco brothers had had enough of the nonstop theatrics of this evening and were looking for the way out.
"Hey Teddy, where's the back door? Thanks for a wonderful evening, but were gonna take our business elsewhere."
Teddy, who had finally given up hope of salvaging any part of this deal, said flatly "This is a warehouse, there is no back door."
The Fusco brothers didn't inherit a crime empire, Antonio and Dominick came up from the streets and built everything they had from scratch. They achieved that by never giving up and doing anything necessary to win.
Dominick spied a forklift and started over to it. "I'll make a back door."
Antonio and his men also started towards the forklift, walking with a gait that showed they believed Dominick would be successful.
Seven thousand pounds, moving at 18 miles per hour wins almost all battles. Sheet metal, at it's weakest point between structural beams, barely gave a challenge.
Forklift cages are designed to protect the driver from hazards above, but it also proved beneficial to dangers in front. Especially with the forks about three feet above the ground, leading the way.
The hole punched through the wall was big enough for everyone. They barely had to duck their heads when they walked through it. Once outside, they looked at each other, searching for their next move.
It was dark, there was no traffic around, and the only vehicles nearby were a bright yellow classic muscle car, and a van.
"OK Nash, we got these four corralled, now what do we do about the herd in the warehouse?" Joe wanted to know.
Before Nash could answer, a thunderous explosion of noise; a mix of twisting, shearing metal and that of a massive steel building reverberating on its foundation shook the parking lot.
"Whoa! Was that an earthquake?" Harvey asked.
"No, that was more like an explosion, or something hitting the building," Joe replied.
Nash waited a few more seconds to analyze the event before he responded.
"Or that may have been our friends on the inside trying to get outside. Evan, go up to one of those windows, and try and see what's going on in there."
Evan cautiously approached a window and peered over the sill. After seeing no movement, he stood up and took a longer look. "It looks empty, and I think there is a hole in the back of warehouse."
Nash chortled, and then a concerned expression crossed his face. "Harvey, tell me you have the keys to the van in your pocket."
Harvey put his right hand in his right front pocket and said "Of course I do, boss."
After searching for a bit, now his face had the concerned expression. He thrust his left hand in his left front pocket, and searched feverishly for the van keys. When his expression changed from concerned to resigned, Nash had his answer.
'Well," Nash sighed, "at least we have some nice cars for the next police auction. And where the hell is SWAT?"