Chapter 11: Stakeout

Freddy was actually early for his shift, something that hardly ever happened. He took the stairs two at a time, and was slightly out of breath when he knocked softly on the apartment door. It was opened by Holdaway.

"Hey Jim," said Freddy, quickly brushing past the older man. "Anything?"

"Nothin' much," Holdaway replied looking at him with a wide-ass alligator grin. "You're a bit early, aren't you? Jeff's in there, nervous as hell," he continued when Freddy glared. "In the middle of a big meeting with head honcho Dov and the other toughs, pitchin' ideas, throwin' money around, that kinda shit. The whole gang's there. But no sign of Vega yet, my brother."

Freddy gave the window in the bare apartment room a quick glance, trying not to let the disappointment show on his face. He was itching to grab the binocs and scope the place out. Heck, if he was stuck here doing surveillance, then he would damn well do surveillance. Kelvin looked up at him from a table cluttered with a tape recorder, a video monitor, and a jumble of wires. He gave Freddy a friendly wave. "Try these on for size," he said, holding up a pair of headphones. "Jeff got the office bugged."

"All yours, kid," said Holdaway, slapping him on the back. Settling the headphones over his ears, Freddy shot the older man a reassuring smirk and watched as he left the apartment building.

Kelvin flipped a switch, and instantly a murmur of voices and generic rustling background noises assailed his ears. Freddy looked over Kelvin's shoulder at the monitor showing the feed from what Freddy realized was the camera hidden in Jeff's glasses. The resolution, like before, was pretty grainy, and there was a time lag with the video compared to the sound on the microphone.

"It's a bit better if you watch through the window," Kelvin remarked, holding up a pair of binoculars. Freddy took up the post previously occupied by Holdaway, and adjusted the focus. Gazing across at the other building, Freddy aimed the binoculars at the office window. He could just see the back of Dov's head, two or three other guys he couldn't indentify, and part of the office door.

"I see it," he said, barely moving his lips. "Where's Jeff?"

"Standing in the corner by the door. Dunno if you can see him. We got a couple guys in the office below, and more in the lobby. Cops are stationed around the building ready to move in and do their thing." As Kelvin talked, Freddy scanned the surrounding area and picked out the waiting cops.

"Looks good."

Kelvin chuckled and swiveled around in his chair so that the cord from his headphones wrapped around his torso. "Relax, man," he drawled, swinging around the other way and letting the cord unwind. "We got audio and video on that Dov guy's ass. Cops downstairs have access to the feed. Let technology do the work, buddy. Have some pistachios."

Freddy reflexively caught the bag one-handed, and stared at the techie. Finally he gave a shrug and ripped it open. Maybe he was worrying too much about this surveillance deal. Ferchetti had put him here just to keep him out of the way, after all. And the meeting had been going on all morning, and Vega hadn't shown up yet. There could be a number of reasons for that. Maybe the psycho bastard really had skipped town. Maybe he'd been lying to Dov when he said he'd come. Hell, maybe he'd just changed his mind – nobody had the faintest fucking clue how that man's brain worked. But Freddy couldn't help feeling a little disappointed.

A small snap startled him, and he looked down to see that he had crushed one of the pistachios in his hand. He had to stop thinking about Vega. He'd been acting like a man obsessed for the past few weeks, and he knew that the others thought he was getting a bit unbalanced. Shit, he was lucky to still be on the job. Maybe it was a good thing that Vega hadn't shown up today. Who knew what he would've done.

"– PROTECTION, AND THE GOOKS ARE WILLING TO PAY –"

Freddy's hands shot to his headphones and ripped them from his head. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, Kelvin!" he shouted.

"I'm sorry!" the techie exclaimed, fiddling with the controls. "I was trying to adjust the volume, filter out some of the background noise… It should be okay now."

Head still ringing, Freddy cautiously put the headphones back on. "– and check it out," he heard Dov saying, clear as a bell as if he was standing right in front of him. "What else? Teddy?" Freddy returned to the chair at the window and fumbled for the binoculars.

"A friend of a friend tells me there's a big poker game comin' up. Five people, five hundred grand apiece. The odds are all in favor of old man Ivey. He's a veteran card player, sitting on six digits, so he might be willing to slip up if we make it worth his while."

"Get more information from your friend. I want to know odds, I want to know the other players before we even think of approaching Ivey. We'll put aside some green for the job." Freddy heard some murmuring and shuffling of papers, and then Dov said, "Any other business? Last chance."

One of the men in Freddy's sights spoke up. "Apparently the Spanos family is in a bit of financial trouble, and they're auctioning off their Civil War memorabilia next week. Word on the street is there's a buyer looking to purchase the collection – without having to go to the auction house."

"I don't know…" Freddy could see Dov lean back in his chair. "After Joe's last robbery became a fiasco, will people be willing to work for us?"

"What's wrong with some of our guys?" asked Teddy, whose voice Freddy now recognized.

"What's wrong is they're not professionals." Dov's voice was firm and brooked no argument. "That brings us to our next order of business, hiring more soldiers. Now as some of you know, we've tried Wallace's people – the ones not completely loyal to him – but no luck. The little chickenshits are too scared to defect. Even Tony Rocky Horror."

"We don't want that fat nigger anyway," someone muttered, and everyone laughed.

"Hey, how about that Winnfield fella?" asked Teddy suddenly. "I heard he went AWOL a few months back."

"Jules Winnfield ain't in LA anymore," someone said. "He's become a fuckin' religious pacifist or something." There were many confused exclamations, and even Freddy couldn't help frowning in puzzlement.

"The point is, gentlemen, we can't get any men from Marsellus." Dov looked around the table. "That means we're going to have to recruit some young blood. I know it's risky, cuz we don't know how many trigger-happy assholes could join the ranks and fuck things up. But it's our best shot. Keep an eye and ear out for petty thieves, street toughs, any kid with a bit of experience who's on the rise. Like our buddy Paul here." Freddy's heart skipped a beat, and counted it lucky that Jeff didn't faint right then and there.

Kelvin let out a low whistle, and Freddy removed his headphones and turned to the techie. "Man, I would not want to be in Jeff's shoes right now."

"No kidding. It's a fucking miracle he's made it through this far. Sounds like they're winding up, though. When are our boys gonna move in?"

Kelvin peered at the monitor. "Dunno. Soon. We got the gang, and the money, and now we –"

The police radio on the table crackled, and a tinny voice said, "Unidentified vehicle just pulled up in front of the building…" Freddy didn't listen to the rest. He hurried to the window and trained his binoculars on the rusty orange Cadillac that was parked by the side of the road. A man in khakis and a blue polo shirt got out, shut the door, and slipped on a pair of shades. He stopped to light a cigarette, tossing the match into the gutter. Putting one hand on his hip, he removed the cigarette from between his lips and looked up at the office building, blowing a stream of smoke into the air. The man was facing away from him, but Freddy knew him instantly.

"Vega," he whispered.

Kelvin was talking urgently on his cell phone, but he looked up as Freddy put his hand on the doorknob.

"Wait – Freddy – No!" he shouted, dropping the phone and leaping forward. He leaned his weight on the door, slamming it shut with his shoulder. "Didn't you hear what Ferchetti's been saying to you all this time? You can't go over there."

"C'mon, Kelvin," said Freddy with a shake of his head. "Do you really expect me to wait in this shitty room like a good little boy while Vega's walking around down there?"

Kelvin put an arm around his shoulders and forcibly steered him away from the door. He was a lot bigger than Freddy. "Yeah, and that's exactly what you're gonna do, too. Vega's showed up, so the cops are gonna go in there and take him down with the rest of the gang. End of story, man. Just relax, and let our boys do their job, okay?"

Freddy pushed the techie away, steaming. "Relax? Are you fucking serious? Vega got away from us before. You think he can't do it again? But he'll stop for me. He knows me, he'll want to face me. We can't fucking let him get away this time!"

The other man shook his head with an annoyingly sympathetic look on his sallow face. "Jesus, Freddy, listen to yourself. You're a wreck. You're lucky to even be here now."

The radio crackled, and Freddy tuned in to hear one of the cops say, "…moving in." That was all he needed to hear.

This time Kelvin was more forceful. "Are you fucking crazy?" he shouted, hauling Freddy away from the door and pushing him bodily into the corner of the room. It was at times like these that Freddy wished he hadn't been born a skinny-ass kid half a head shorter than everyone else in the class. But police academy hadn't been for nothing.

Soon Kelvin was curled up on the floor, half-stunned and nursing a bloody lip. "Sorry, Kelvin," said Freddy, taking out his gun and checking the weapon. "I gotta get over there. Vega's a fucking madman, he doesn't follow the rules, and somebody's gotta take care of him." He grabbed a police radio off the table, opened the door, paused, and looked over his shoulder. "Get some ice on that lip."

Then he was off, running down the stairs. He passed some people on the way, but they took one look at his gun and stepped aside. He burst out of the apartment and hared across the street, deftly avoiding traffic. And as he reached the door of the office building, he heard shots ring out above him.

A/N: First surveillance in an unmarked van, then a stakeout in a building across the road… I'm hitting all the cop clichés in this story. I should've mentioned before that the character Teddy appears in the movie as the guy who tells Joe that Vic Vega's here to see him. Reviews are welcome!