Animal House
He picked up the phone in the back of the coffee shop, where the lights were low and dull. The wall was a cowardly yellow. A sad, lonely voice begged on the jukebox. Outside the snow was coming down.
‘Is this Paxton Perfecto?’ droned the receiver.
‘This is he’
‘Behind you in the fifth booth to your left, underneath the table is a nine-millimeter Berretta taped in the left corner directly underneath the salt shaker. She’s your new best friend tonight’
‘Okay’
‘Don’t remove it. It’s wired to a trigger-release detonator stationed in the table in the far right corner. So unless you want glass flying I suggest you leave it alone until necessary’
‘That’s not much help to me. What if he uses a different cover pattern?’
‘Huston always uses a seven ‘o clock split so his point man can get the best vantage’
‘You worked with him?’ said Paxton
‘No but I know he’s right-handed. He uses eyes for his compensation. Then he never has to worry about that nasty little twitch’
‘And what if the point man doesn’t cover there?’
‘Trust me he will’
‘Okay’
‘Huston’s got a constant demeanor and besides he’s paranoid as fuck’
The coffee tasted like dirty water. The static grumbled impatiently.
‘You’ve got the advantage Perfecto when he cant see your left hand’ said the voice on the phone.
‘Is it true then? Is
‘Yes’
‘I still don’t believe you’
‘You’re going to have to’
‘I know’
He syndicate runs deep. Too deep for me time. Too deep for my comfort or the comfort of my men on the streets’
‘Jesus’
‘What?’
‘It’s true that he was on to something’
‘Oh he was and now you’re going to put a stop to this’
More dirty water, around the edges of his crusty mouth.
‘You get rid of him and we’re dislocated. He stuck his nose in too far. Now he’s going to smell something rotten’
It started to snow harder. It fell like rain.
‘Don’t assume he’s figured you out. Don’t give him any reason to believe this is the big fish after five years on the DEA. I need to get as much info as possible. Need to see if there are anymore bugs, potential or not’
‘How will you do that?’
‘Reach around to the back of the payphone’
There were abandoned spider webs. Paxton found a rubber earpiece, much like a hearing aid and held it in his hand like he would a curious bug.
‘It sends and receives communication via satellite from your location’
‘So what am I now, a spy?’
‘Put it in your ear’
The earpiece was cold and made an irritating hum. It snowed faster than before.
‘Now say something’
‘If you hurt my wife or son I will kill you’
‘That’s a nice clean signal’
The waitress across the jukebox had hair like Marie Antoinette, and her makeup was windswept from the hands of Rembrandt himself.
‘This is only temporary’ said the voice in his ear, ‘hang up the phone’
Paxton hung up the phone.
‘You do what I ask and they will be home in a couple hours or so’
‘Not good enough’
‘You don’t exactly have a choice. Do you want your son to hear that his daddy didn’t think his fate was that important enough?’
Paxton was silent.
‘No I don’t’
‘Then take a seat and wait for my signal’
Paxton walked over to the table, feeling the cold gun underneath as he sat down. The voice in his ear coxed ‘Atta boy’.
Soon a tall man walked in from the night, brushing the heavy snow off of his shoulders and hat. His hair was like wisps of smoke and his eyes were dark like his taut skin. The iris’s were imperceptible. He saw Paxton and smirked.
‘My man’
He sat down across from him.
‘Don’t screw this up. Go nice and slow’ said the voice in his ear.
‘Thought I wasn’t going to come through huh?’ sad Huston.
‘Not at this time of night’
Paxton looked at his face carefully, thinking about what it would look like dead.
‘Well
I got to be honest I don’t like my
‘You got the night shift now?’
‘Came with the promotion’
‘Quite a package for you’
‘Quite a package’
‘Comfortable pay?’
‘More like a bonus now, but s’all I need to get my late night Mcmuffin routine.
He laughed. His teeth were white and crooked.
‘I know you didn’t call me down here for no pleasantries. What’s on yo mind?’
‘Careful Paxton’
‘I think I got a lead’
‘No shit’
‘The old Paulson case’
‘Who’s the perp now?’
‘Ask
him about north steel’
‘Well you gonna open up? Let’s go’
‘What do you know about the north steel?’
‘You think it was them?’
Paxton paused. He heard breathing.
‘Yeah. I do’
The waitresses’ fingernails were like blood and congealed together.
‘What’ll it be?’ she asked as her gum snapped across her cherry lips.
‘Give us a few minutes’ said Huston.
‘So you think you know about the north steel?’
‘No, I’m asking you…’
‘Cause it was my assumption that no rookies fucked with the north steel. Those boys kill anyone in the uniform’
‘But not in wool coats?’
Huston looked down into his lap and whispered, then followed it up with laughter.
‘You alright Paxton? You don’t look all there’
‘I’m just tired’
‘What do you want to know about north steel?’
‘Are there any operatives inside?’
‘Do you have any operatives inside?’
‘You kidding me? We got undercovers in every set in this city. I guess they didn’t teach you that shit in the school did they?’
‘No’
‘See that’s your problem, you jump into shit too easily. You think that we’d know shit about anything without our eyes and ears? These hood rats already got lock down fuck the prison system, you know what I mean. They’ve already been tapped and the north steel is prime to us’
The coffee tasted like dirty water. Paxton’s hands twitched over the gun.
‘Not yet’
‘You’re a rookie, Paxton. You still got things to learn one of them is this: cops, especially DEA, never compensate an opportunity to get outside help when they need it. You’re in a privileged position to learn here. Some might call you the white picket fence boy in the precinct so count your blessings? You know what eyes do to get the trust of a set like the north steel?’
‘What?’
‘They get their shit packed’
‘What?’
‘Packed. Booty house. Call cards.’
The snow was pouring.
‘And then they beat them. Join the initiation to do so. You ever had it packed?’
‘No’
‘You got it easy see. Some times you got to get love from the homies’
‘How many operatives?’
‘How many operatives?’
‘These days several. Ever since the Val Beeno’s stepped into play’
‘Good’
‘That’s a lot of packing’ said Huston as his eyes lit up.
‘What are their names’
‘You ever rolled with them?’
‘I got popped everyday for a week for a bust that warranted only one arrest. The rest scat’
‘Scat’
‘Scat’
‘What are you doing Paxton?’
‘It’s no way to run a family’ said Huston.
In the right corner a man looked at Paxton over a newspaper. His eyes were like fire and burned deep wide holes into the air. He ate his pie. The windows were white.
‘The way you run a family is like a business, having all people running specific jobs at the same time. One of those jobs fails, and the business falls in on itself. Sometimes the only way to get ahead is to take one for the team’
Paxton continued to watch the man eat his pie.
‘What are their names?’
‘You got to go undercover and do what’s right, even if you know it’s for the wrong cause’
‘Is it though?’
‘Do I need to remind you of your wife and son?’
‘What are the operatives names?’
‘I cant tell you that’
‘Why because I’m a rookie?’
‘No because I’d blow my own cover.’
‘What?’
‘What?’
‘I’m sorry Paxton. Business is business. The DEA can’t sniff forever.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Wrap this up Pax’
Huston’s mouth cracked a smile under a devilish leer.
‘I mean you haven’t focused. You haven’t thought. And that’s the cornerstone of being a cop, is realizing who is and who isn’t your enemy’
The waitress came back around. The track changed in the jukebox.
‘This is done, take
him out’
‘North steel wasn’t the set you should’ve been worrying about’
The waitress snapped her gum again. Spearmint.
‘You ready to order?’
Paxton watched Huston.
‘I’ll have the eggs’ muttered Paxton’
‘How’d you like them done sweetie’
The voice on the earpiece drew a deep breath, or a sigh of relief. Paxton couldn’t tell.
‘Scrambled. Get ‘em scrambled’
Suddenly Paxton snatched the gun and withdrew it to
Huston’s head, who had drawn his in an instant quicker than his rookie
counterpart. The corner of the coffee shop exploded into a swelling fireball,
and the point man was blown into six parts, clobbering the burning waitress.
Amidst the screams and hurdling blood thrown into the flames lay Paxton and
Huston, both shot in the head, and as their blood quickened around them into
orange puddles under the snare of the heat, the man in the earpiece, situated
between them, was clapping a slow, steady, beat.