Pike’s nose. He started walking back the way he’d come. Taking another road flare from his pocket, he struck it and tossed it under the SUV into the pool of gasoline.
Flames whooshed to life and latched on to the vehicle.
“No! You didn’t do that!”
Pike shot a look at the three men at the other end of the alley. “Tell the Sureños this neighborhood is off-limits.”
The man cursed him.
Wheeling, Pike fired a round that cut the air over the man’s head. The man dove to the ground, followed by his two buddies. At that point, the gas tank in the SUV exploded and the vehicle jumped off the ground slightly before settling back down. The interior was on fire as well, burning merrily. Most of the money and the drugs would burn before the fire department arrived, but he was willing to bet enough evidence would be left to get police investigators started on the operation. The neighborhood would be watched over for a time.
When Pike reached the unconscious man he’d left in the other alley, he caught the man’s collar and dragged him into the street. He searched the man and found a throwaway cell phone. Opening the phone, Pike punched in 911.
“Nine-one-one operator. State the nature of your emergency.”
“Fire.” Leaving the phone connected, Pike dropped it onto the unconscious man and kept walking. Even if the neighbors didn’t call in the fire, emergency units would be dispatched.
He walked away, feeling pretty good about the night’s work.
2
AT 6:20 THE NEXT MORNING, Pike was taking bacon from a skillet when someone knocked on his apartment door. He was clad in a pair of faded, oil-stained jeans, barefoot and shirtless. He took the high-capacity Glock .45 from the counter beside the stove, set the skillet off the burner, and padded to the door.
He didn’t peer through the peephole. A guy could catch a bullet in the brain that way as soon as the lens went dark and alerted a shooter on the other side of the door. Instead, he stood to the side of the door with the pistol in his fist.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, Mr. Pike. Hector.”
Hector was the young boy from the neighborhood who had first asked Pike to help with Juan Mendoza, who was part of the Sureños. Hector’s sister, Erendria, had gotten mixed up with the previous group Pike had “relocated.”
“What are you doing here, Hector?” Pike kept from growling the question, but only just. The kid was good, hadn’t taken up any bad ways, and he sometimes came by the garage where Pike worked. His mom worked a lot, and his sister was trying to manage community college and a job as well these days. She’d kept herself clean. Hector’s father had run away shortly after he’d been born.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
Pike still didn’t reach for the door. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“School’s not till eight.”
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school?”
“I’m ready.”
“Does your momma or your sister know you’re here?”
“She’s at work. Erendria is at college. She has friends she’s studying with.” The kid made friends sound like leprosy.
“Kinda early for her to study.”
“I think she goes there for coffee and gossip. That’s what my mom says.”
Despite himself, Pike grinned sadly. Kid was caught between a working mom and a sister getting ready to take flight out into the world. That left him little family time.
“Can I come in?” There was a little whine in the boy’s voice. Not enough to be annoying, and it was subtle enough that Pike knew Hector was trying to hide it.
“You alone?”
“Yeah.”
Pike slipped the pistol into the back of his waistband and removed the lock bar he’d mounted in the floor, then unfastened the three locks on the door. When he opened it, Hector stood in the hallway.
The boy was nine going on ten. Hispanic and too thin for his age, dressed in a Batman T-shirt that was too big for him and hung almost to his knees, Hector was a good-looking kid with eyes
Flames whooshed to life and latched on to the vehicle.
“No! You didn’t do that!”
Pike shot a look at the three men at the other end of the alley. “Tell the Sureños this neighborhood is off-limits.”
The man cursed him.
Wheeling, Pike fired a round that cut the air over the man’s head. The man dove to the ground, followed by his two buddies. At that point, the gas tank in the SUV exploded and the vehicle jumped off the ground slightly before settling back down. The interior was on fire as well, burning merrily. Most of the money and the drugs would burn before the fire department arrived, but he was willing to bet enough evidence would be left to get police investigators started on the operation. The neighborhood would be watched over for a time.
When Pike reached the unconscious man he’d left in the other alley, he caught the man’s collar and dragged him into the street. He searched the man and found a throwaway cell phone. Opening the phone, Pike punched in 911.
“Nine-one-one operator. State the nature of your emergency.”
“Fire.” Leaving the phone connected, Pike dropped it onto the unconscious man and kept walking. Even if the neighbors didn’t call in the fire, emergency units would be dispatched.
He walked away, feeling pretty good about the night’s work.
2
AT 6:20 THE NEXT MORNING, Pike was taking bacon from a skillet when someone knocked on his apartment door. He was clad in a pair of faded, oil-stained jeans, barefoot and shirtless. He took the high-capacity Glock .45 from the counter beside the stove, set the skillet off the burner, and padded to the door.
He didn’t peer through the peephole. A guy could catch a bullet in the brain that way as soon as the lens went dark and alerted a shooter on the other side of the door. Instead, he stood to the side of the door with the pistol in his fist.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, Mr. Pike. Hector.”
Hector was the young boy from the neighborhood who had first asked Pike to help with Juan Mendoza, who was part of the Sureños. Hector’s sister, Erendria, had gotten mixed up with the previous group Pike had “relocated.”
“What are you doing here, Hector?” Pike kept from growling the question, but only just. The kid was good, hadn’t taken up any bad ways, and he sometimes came by the garage where Pike worked. His mom worked a lot, and his sister was trying to manage community college and a job as well these days. She’d kept herself clean. Hector’s father had run away shortly after he’d been born.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
Pike still didn’t reach for the door. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“School’s not till eight.”
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school?”
“I’m ready.”
“Does your momma or your sister know you’re here?”
“She’s at work. Erendria is at college. She has friends she’s studying with.” The kid made friends sound like leprosy.
“Kinda early for her to study.”
“I think she goes there for coffee and gossip. That’s what my mom says.”
Despite himself, Pike grinned sadly. Kid was caught between a working mom and a sister getting ready to take flight out into the world. That left him little family time.
“Can I come in?” There was a little whine in the boy’s voice. Not enough to be annoying, and it was subtle enough that Pike knew Hector was trying to hide it.
“You alone?”
“Yeah.”
Pike slipped the pistol into the back of his waistband and removed the lock bar he’d mounted in the floor, then unfastened the three locks on the door. When he opened it, Hector stood in the hallway.
The boy was nine going on ten. Hispanic and too thin for his age, dressed in a Batman T-shirt that was too big for him and hung almost to his knees, Hector was a good-looking kid with eyes
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