Read Online Hollywood Tough (2002) by Stephen - Scully 03 Cannell - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stephen - Scully 03 Cannell
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can la policia make to us? What favors do you offer?"
"I can make no promises and grant no favors. I am a man of honor," Shane said softly.
The veteranos all frowned. Then American, who had said nothing up to this point, stood. He was only nineteen, but these older men were prepared to listen respectfully. He was already known on the street as one hundred proof, having earned the three R tattoo: Respect, Reputation, and Revenge. They all paid close attention as Amac spoke. He told them Chooch was his carnalito, his little brother... that Amac had promised the peewee he would hold his back, look out for his best interests. He said he wanted this chance for Chooch . . . that the feeling was de corazon, from his heart. He promised the veteranos that in return for letting Chooch out, he would kick down double his normal street taxes for the next year.
An hour later the meeting was over and Chooch had been released from the 18th Street . S uretios without condition. It had been Amac who made it happen.
On the slow drive back to where Shane had been picked up, the Emes in the low-rider said nothing, but as Shane got out of the car American Macado stopped him. "Hey, gabacho, promise me you'll make this chance count."
In that instant, Shane saw in Amac's face a desperate longing, as if he were looking over a fence as his little brother Chooch achieved something he would never have freedom from the gang life. But there was no turning back for Amac, and they both knew it.
"I promise," Shane said. Then he walked away. He and Chooch had seen American a year and a half later at Magic Mountain amusement park. Shane looked over and saw the twenty-year-old Eme with half a dozen G'sters standing in the Batman roller-coaster line. Amac walked away from his vatos and approached Shane and Chooch. He had shaved his head since that night in the park, and was heavily sleeved with new tattoos. Shane saw a new T4L inked on Amac's right shoulder, which meant "Thug for Life." By now, it was certainly true.
"Que pasa, camalito?" Amac asked Chooch.
"I'm good. I was hopin' you'd come to one of my football games. I was starting as quarterback at Harvard Westlake this year."
Amac smiled. "A quarterback is just change on a candy bar, dude."
Chooch smiled but didn't say anything, so Amac continued.
"Glad to see you takin' good care of yourself since drop-pin' the flag. I'm countin' on you to not get off the gate. Ta no quieres mi vida loca."
Chooch nodded.
"Que viva la raza," Amac said. Long live the race. Then he turned and walked away to rejoin his group.
Shane had heard during various LAPD gang briefings that Amac had been bumped up to "big boy," which was a set leader. Now, at the unheard-of age of twenty-one, he had replaced Martinez as the Inca for the East Valley. Shane was not surprised because he'd seen Amac's power and leadership that night two years ago when four thirtyyear-old veterans had listened respectfully while the thennineteen-year-old helped Shane.
Shane turned off the water in the sink and folded the dishrag over the gooseneck spout. "I'm not sure it's good for me to be talking to him," he told Alexa softly. "He's not just a street soldier anymore; he's the Valley Inca."
"I know what he is. I read CRASH briefings. But we've had two more assassinations. This time both were Blood O . G .'s. I think this city is about to erupt in interracial gan g w ar. At first I just thought it would be Crips and Bloods , but the kicker here is that the wit who saw the last tw o k illings says that the shooters were Mexicans, not blacks."
"You said there was going to be a power vacuum. Maybe with Stone down, the Mexican Mafia is going for their share of this," Shane said.
"We need to pick up some street intel. I've got a feeling there's a big piece missing. We don't have the whole picture and right now we're getting zip from our regular snitches."
"And you think I can just go to the head of the local Emes and get him to tell me?"
"I
"I can make no promises and grant no favors. I am a man of honor," Shane said softly.
The veteranos all frowned. Then American, who had said nothing up to this point, stood. He was only nineteen, but these older men were prepared to listen respectfully. He was already known on the street as one hundred proof, having earned the three R tattoo: Respect, Reputation, and Revenge. They all paid close attention as Amac spoke. He told them Chooch was his carnalito, his little brother... that Amac had promised the peewee he would hold his back, look out for his best interests. He said he wanted this chance for Chooch . . . that the feeling was de corazon, from his heart. He promised the veteranos that in return for letting Chooch out, he would kick down double his normal street taxes for the next year.
An hour later the meeting was over and Chooch had been released from the 18th Street . S uretios without condition. It had been Amac who made it happen.
On the slow drive back to where Shane had been picked up, the Emes in the low-rider said nothing, but as Shane got out of the car American Macado stopped him. "Hey, gabacho, promise me you'll make this chance count."
In that instant, Shane saw in Amac's face a desperate longing, as if he were looking over a fence as his little brother Chooch achieved something he would never have freedom from the gang life. But there was no turning back for Amac, and they both knew it.
"I promise," Shane said. Then he walked away. He and Chooch had seen American a year and a half later at Magic Mountain amusement park. Shane looked over and saw the twenty-year-old Eme with half a dozen G'sters standing in the Batman roller-coaster line. Amac walked away from his vatos and approached Shane and Chooch. He had shaved his head since that night in the park, and was heavily sleeved with new tattoos. Shane saw a new T4L inked on Amac's right shoulder, which meant "Thug for Life." By now, it was certainly true.
"Que pasa, camalito?" Amac asked Chooch.
"I'm good. I was hopin' you'd come to one of my football games. I was starting as quarterback at Harvard Westlake this year."
Amac smiled. "A quarterback is just change on a candy bar, dude."
Chooch smiled but didn't say anything, so Amac continued.
"Glad to see you takin' good care of yourself since drop-pin' the flag. I'm countin' on you to not get off the gate. Ta no quieres mi vida loca."
Chooch nodded.
"Que viva la raza," Amac said. Long live the race. Then he turned and walked away to rejoin his group.
Shane had heard during various LAPD gang briefings that Amac had been bumped up to "big boy," which was a set leader. Now, at the unheard-of age of twenty-one, he had replaced Martinez as the Inca for the East Valley. Shane was not surprised because he'd seen Amac's power and leadership that night two years ago when four thirtyyear-old veterans had listened respectfully while the thennineteen-year-old helped Shane.
Shane turned off the water in the sink and folded the dishrag over the gooseneck spout. "I'm not sure it's good for me to be talking to him," he told Alexa softly. "He's not just a street soldier anymore; he's the Valley Inca."
"I know what he is. I read CRASH briefings. But we've had two more assassinations. This time both were Blood O . G .'s. I think this city is about to erupt in interracial gan g w ar. At first I just thought it would be Crips and Bloods , but the kicker here is that the wit who saw the last tw o k illings says that the shooters were Mexicans, not blacks."
"You said there was going to be a power vacuum. Maybe with Stone down, the Mexican Mafia is going for their share of this," Shane said.
"We need to pick up some street intel. I've got a feeling there's a big piece missing. We don't have the whole picture and right now we're getting zip from our regular snitches."
"And you think I can just go to the head of the local Emes and get him to tell me?"
"I
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