CS: Blood Lines (Cont IV)

Reno nodded and puffed on his cigarette, “I know what you mean.”

“May I ask where we are headed.”

The car engine flared and the four pulled out of the driveway as Reno blew the smoke out his window. “You may. We’re going out to do a little business and to kill another bird with our same stone, test you out.” Reno glanced over his shoulder to see Max’s reaction, it was stoic as always. “Anyway. The only syndicate that we can crumble right now are the Eights. The Cubans are really small, but they’re like rats. They move in and out of the shadows and the sewers and you can’t see what they’re doing until it’s too late. The Eights, however, they’ve got a huge operation. Of course, it’s all disorganized cuz they don’t know jack shit about how to run things properly. Anyway, they’re also heavy into pride and they get themselves in over their heads, challenging us and shit, like these are the feudal days or some crap. Anyway, the point of the matter is that the Eights lost their last little gang war challenge. Of course, the agreement was that they pull their drug peddlers off a few of our streets.”

“But they won’t.”

“No. Not unless we make em, as it is our right. You see, we families all hate each other, but we don’t want to run an all our war no matter what we threaten. The Eights made the deal and it was set, so if we kill their people, they won’t get any other gang backin’ them. They’re alone on this. So what I want you, and Bobby there, to do, is to make sure that we get the results we asked for.”

“Are they armed?”

“Of course they’re fuckin’ armed. Why? That a big problem? We’re not gonna send you in there without some heat of your own, don’t worry.”

“And the police don’t care about this?”

“The house that they make the deals from is in a shithole of a neighborhood. Cops hate it, they don’t show their faces. Secondly, we’re cleaning the scum off the streets, thirdly, if push comes to shove we’ve got wads of cash to bribe em. This isn’t their business. You send a criminal to deal with a criminal. Cops don’t get that. Cops don’t understand why the system doesn’t work. It’s because they’re sending men who have been following rules against a group whose learned how to dodge the rules they follow. Unless you can think around the rules, then you’re fucked in this biz.” Reno handed Max a second clip. “That’s all you get and all you’ll need. Bobby will wait out back for any runners and we’ll wait out front for you.”

“How many in the house?”

“Six…maybe eight. Who the fuck knows. These niggers hang in packs like you wouldn’t believe,” Reno puffed, rolling down his window and hurling it out into the street.

The car turned off the main streets and began to wind its way through the slums of the city. Houses were crammed together here, tightening around each other as if they were coming to the end of the noose. Clothes hung from balconies, children ran from the street as the cars passed through all they had for a playground. This was the shithole of life and Max couldn’t believe there were places like this that still existed. He had fought for years to save people from this poverty-stricken life and the ideals were supposed to have eventually been reached, but it didn’t work. Why?

Reno stared out the window, “Look at these fucks. It’s something about the poor. They have no god damn money to feed themselves but they’ve got forty fuckin kids that will grow up to plague the system with the same diseases that we’ve been trying to get rid of, suck the money out of the welfare system where deserving people try to fight their way back up in the world. These people deserve to die in filth and be buried in the shallow dirt whereever they can find a spot, so god damn selfish. Thinking only about fuckin and eatin and cryin about their problems.” Reno held the car up for a moment, rolling down the window and hurling a small wad of cash to a kid on the sidewalk. “Hide that from your parents kid and DON’T let them take it from you!” He waved the car on.

“He’ll give it to his parents, you know.”

“You can think that. But maybe I’ll find the right kid one day, huh?” The car continued to roll through the streets, the sun rising up over the multistory apartments filled with the sounds of loud TVs, screams, children crying, vaccuums, the sounds of everyday life. All the windows were open and the temperature was rising steadily as the car turned a corner and slid to a halt outside a rundown two-story house. The sides were white and the windows were broken. Boards covered the front door, though a few of them hung loose as if they were only there to look as if the house was abandoned. Movement crossed through the upper window, but Max could tell they hadn’t been noticed. There was always a frantic calm around someone who had been discovered doing something that he would be punished for—he didn’t get that feeling about this house.