The Final Chapter Page 13
“You know what I mean. I’m a child of the projects. And I have no reason to lie to you.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. If you’re gonna lie to me and say there ain’t no concentration camps, then you’d lie to me about not lyin’ to me.”
“If you don’t believe me, will you believe a nun?”
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As she asked the question Sharp nodded in the direction of the two nuns.
Tay Tay looked at Sister Mary Beth, the older of the two.
“I’ve seen you before. You’re the one at the Alamo.”
“Yes sir, I am. I remember you. You came alone. You were respectful and courteous to my sisters and me. I didn’t know you were…”
“A gangster? A thug? Go ahead, you can say it.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, young man. I was about to say I didn’t know you were a man of authority.
“I wish you’d said something about you being a leader in the VC. I’d have asked you on the spot to help us with this problem.”
“Why should I help you? Why should I do anything?”
“Because unless I miss my guess, Mr. Tay Tay, you want the best for your people. You don’t want them to die of starvation, and you have the power to prevent it.”
“Why should I want my Crip members to scatter all over the city? That seems kinda dumb to me.”
“Well, it would be dumb if it were true.
“But you and I both know, Mr. Tay Tay, that that wouldn’t happen. You wouldn’t let it.
“What would happen is that you and your crew would select houses on the same block, or in the same neighborhood.
“You’d continue to be a family, and to practice… whatever activities you practice.
“You’d just do it from nicer homes that you would own.
“You have the opportunity to better your own life and the lives of those around you, Tay. At absolutely no expense whatsoever to yourself.
“Such opportunities don’t come along very often. In fact, almost never.
“I think it’s safe to say an offer such as this will never come along again in your lifetime.”
He cocked his head and eyed her warily.
She didn’t blink.
“How do I know you’re not lying?”
She didn’t miss a beat.
“Have you ever known a nun who lied to you, young man?”
He said nothing, but his mind went back to the days of his youth, when his mother used to take him by the hand and walk him to a nearby church on Sundays.
It was a Baptist church, not Catholic.
But he remembered being in awe of the minister.
That minister seemed to have all the answers. He raised the roof each and every Sunday with his fire and brimstone style of preaching.
Tay Tay could still remember the way the crowd swayed back and forth to the music and shouted “Amen” in unison when called to.
It was a memory he occasionally recollected with some fondness and represented one of the few good influences of his young life.
He only went to that church for two years.
Then his mom was shot in a drive-by shooting and died on the spot.
She wasn’t the intended target of the bullet, but the results were the same.
She was just as dead.
Tay Tay never knew his father. Didn’t even know who he was, really.
With his mom gone his new parents were the streets. His new family the gang.
In his experience religious leaders weren’t perfect.
But they were generally honest.
“Okay. I believe you. What do you want from me?”
“You know who’s been spreading the false rumors.
“I know you have no control over the other gangs.
“All I’m asking you is to put the word out to those who are in your gang to stop the bad rumors.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes. Instead of discouraging your people to leave the projects I want you to help spread the word. Tell them it’s safe to go outside.
“Everyone knows where the old main post office is.”
“The one by the Alamo?”
“Yes. All they have to do is walk over to the old post office and ask for help.
“The city will help them. They’ll get out of the projects and own their own home. And they won’t be hungry anymore.”
“What do I get out of it?”
Sharp expected this. Men like Tay Tay never did anything for nothing.
“How about a year from now you’ll be a hero to your people? You won’t be respected for being a gang leader. You’ll be respected for the right reasons. Because you helped your people and saved some lives.”
He paused before answering, then said, “I’ll think about it.”
Sister Mary Beth started to say something, but stopped.
She, like Officer Sharp, seemed to sense it was the best they were going to get.
John had to bite his tongue.
Hard.
In his view, the carrot had been offered in good faith and had been rebuffed.
In his view, it was time for the stick.
He so badly wanted to tell Tay Tay the choice was his.
That if he didn’t cooperate the city would come in and tear down their houses in the project one at a time.
Then the result would be the same; the VC residents would be relocated into better and safer neighborhoods.
But Tay Tay would miss out on the chance to be a hero to his community.
He’d remain just another thug who thought he was loved and respected, but who was just feared and despised.
John came very close to saying something but didn’t.
Project Wrecking Ball was still under wraps.
It was still a secret city project.
Rhett had asked John to keep it that way, and John couldn’t bring himself to betray his friend.
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With Big Boi they had slightly better results.
Big Boi, against all odds, was a gangster with a heart.
That was quite probably because his aged mother and his “Auntie Clara” still resided in the projects.
“I’ve been worried about their safety for a long time,” he confessed out of earshot of his crew.
“To be honest, I’ve made a lot of concessions I shouldn’t have made. Because I know if there’s a gang war they’ll be among the first casualties.
“MS-13 is brutal, and they have no qualms about going after family members.”
“Where are your mother and aunt now?” Sister Mary Beth asked.
“They share a place on Leigh Street. I’ve had it barricaded with sand bags and I have it guarded twenty four seven.
“I used to worry about drive-bys. Now the cars are gone so I worry about snipers.
“It’s like living with your moms and your auntie in a damn war zone. They haven’t been outside in two years.”
Sharp said, “Now’s your chance to get them out of here. It may be the best chance you ever get.”
“I know who’s been spreading the rumors in my crew. I always knew they were bullshit. We used to joke around about it. See how long the old timers would hide in the projects before they got hungry enough to peek their heads out and see if the rumors were true.
“Now I guess it ain’t that funny.”
“So you’ll help us stop the rumors and start encouraging the residents to move out?”
“I’ll put a stop to the rumors.
“As for the residents, I can only encourage the ones who live in Blood territory. We can’t step foot on the other gangs’ turf or we’ll get shot.”
“That’s good enough and we understand.
“We’re trying to work with the other gangs to get their people out.”
“And there’s a problem you haven’t thought of.”
“What’s that?”
“A lot of our residents can’t walk to the post office.
“A lot of them are old.
“Not a problem at all,” Officer Sharp countered without hesitation. “You convince them to go, and I’ll personally come by to pick them up and take them to the post office.
“They’ve got wheelchairs there. I’ll personally push them into the post office myself.”
“Promise?”
Another constant in Big Boi’s life were authority figures saying they’d do this or that and falling through on their word.
“I promise. I’ll tell you what. I’ll come by here every day at two p.m. You got a watch?”
He proudly held up the digital watch he’d traded a prepper a gold chain for.
The chain had cost him nothing.
He stole it.
“Good,” Sharp continued. “I’ll come by here every day at two p.m. I’ll meet you right here. If you’ve convinced someone to go to the post office with me, all you have to do is give me their address and tell them to be ready to go at two fifteen.”
Officer Luna shot her a look which said, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Sharp reassured her, “It’ll be okay. You wouldn’t let me down, now would you Big Boi?”
“No ma’am. I’ll keep my word if you’ll keep yours.”
Right on cue, a man’s whistle came rolling across the park.
The crew turned around and saw Rudy waving his arm from eighty yards away.
“Looks like Suarez is ready to talk now,” Sharp said.
“Be careful with him,” Big Boi warned.
“He’s not as nice a guy as I am.”
They walked back to the weight bench, just in time to watch Thomas Suarez finish a set of bench presses.
“How much is that?” Sharp asked his spotter.
“Two eighty.”
“That’s nothing,” she replied. “I can do two eighty one.”
Humor was always the best way to start a tense conversation with someone who may be hostile.
She’d learned that in hostage negotiator school.
In this case her joke fell flat.
“They woke me up from my nap,” Suarez complained.
“What do you want?”
“I just want to talk. And to help you and your people out of a bad situation.”
He sat up and straddled the bench, giving her a chance to study him closely.
He was shirtless, which she knew was partly an alpha-male’s display of dominance.
It was also a habit body builders had because they liked to show off their muscles.
In this case he was showing off an impressive number of tattoos as well.
They were all prison tattoos. She could tell by the crude design and lack of color.
An Aztec god decorated his entire chest.
The infamous “MS-13” proudly adorned his neck.
This guy was the real deal.
And he wasn’t going to cut Sharp any slack.
“What do you know about my people?”
“I know a lot about your people. I grew up here, on Suerte, before they rebuilt all the buildings and changed all the street names.
“I know what it’s like to live in the ghetto. To always feel deprived and disrespected. To feel like the man’s always got his heel on your throat and thinking he’s never gonna take it off.”
He nodded.
It summed up his general attitude.
“I know something else as well,” she said.
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“Oh yeah?” Suarez growled. “What’s that?”
“I know your people are slowly dying. That they’re starving to death.
“I know that frustrates you. That part of your job as a leader is taking care of your people.
“It frustrates you because you can’t stop it from happening.
“But I can.”
“Who says these are my people? Who says I am responsible?
“I am responsible only for the members of my gang family. Not for the doddering old fools who are afraid of their own shadow and so gullible they believe anything anyone tells them.”
“Bullshit.”
A look of shock came over Suarez’ face.
He was a brutal dictator in charge of a brutal gang.
A gang which had a reputation for administering cruelty to anyone who opposed them.
He wasn’t used to open defiance from anyone.
Much less a woman.
While Suarez was speechless and a little bit confused, Sharp got the very distinct impression she’d found the source of her problem.
Suarez finally found his words.
“Do you realize I could snap my fingers right now and all five of you would be shot dead within thirty seconds?”
It was meant to frighten her. To terrify her and make her back off.
But Officer Angela Sharp was a black woman in a white man’s world. She was a black woman in a profession known for its machismo.
More than that, she was a black woman who was born and raised in the projects.
She learned how to use her fists before she picked up her first crayon.
Her life had been one long series of events when she had to defend her color, her gender, or both.
To call her tough was an understatement.
She considered herself the equal of any man.
And she never backed down.
It might well have been true that Suarez could snap his fingers and have them killed within thirty seconds.
But Angela Sharp was not cowed by his threat.
“Thirty seconds? Do you know how many rounds I can get off in thirty seconds?
“Go ahead. Snap your fingers.
“My first shot will take your fingers off.
“My second shot will go right through your heart.
“And that’s less than five seconds. Imagine how much damage I can cause in the next twenty five.”
Her statement was more Dirty Harry than frightened female cop.
“It appears that what we have here is a good old fashioned Mexican standoff,” he finally said. “Salut.”
“Look,” Sharp said as she softened just a bit.
“I don’t care that you’re a gang banger. I don’t care that you’ve probably got more illegal activities going on than I could possibly imagine.
“That’s a problem for a different day.
“Either someday you slip up and we catch you and throw you into prison, or you’re careful and stay one step ahead of us.
“Whichever it is, it’ll resolve itself on its own.
“That’s not why we’re here. I’m not here to throw you in jail or to question your authority. I’m not here to embarrass you in front of your men or to take away your manhood.
“I’m here because we want to save lives.
“And whether or not you like it, or even believe it, you are the one who can help us make this happen.
“Your legacy,” she concluded, “will depend on whether you help us.”
“What legacy? I don’t give a damn about no legacy.”
“Do you have any sons, Mr. Suarez?”
“What in hell does that have to do with anything?”
“Do you?”
“I have two sons and a little girl. Why?”
“Would you rather those sons, and your daughter too, grow up knowing their father only as a ruthless gang leader?
“Or would you rather they grow up knowing you saved the lives of dozens of people?”
Pride among Hispanic males was a big thing. Sharp knew that.
And she also knew the quickest way to get a man to do something he didn’t want to do was to stroke his ego.
It’s a fact known by all women, everywhere.
“Think about it, Mr. Suarez. You’d be a hero to your people. They’d name their children after you. They’ll hold holidays in your honor.
“They’ll cheer you when you
walk down the street and talk about how you played the man at his own game and beat him.
“They’ll pass stories down to their children about how you led your people to safety, much like Moses led his people long ago.”
“Who the hell is this Moses dude?”
Okay, so maybe she was laying it on a bit thick.
But she could tell by the look on his big dumb face she was making headway.
He was at least considering her words.
Finally he said, “Just what do you want from me?”
“Tell your men to stop spreading rumors that if the residents of VC leave they will be killed or captured.
“Instead, tell them the truth.
“That there is help available to them. All they have to do is walk over to the old post office.
“Tell them the city will give them a new place to live. A much better place than the projects. A home they’ll own, provided they stay there and don’t abandon the place.
“Tell them the city will loan them land to grow gardens on and will help them learn how to farm. And that there is a free meal every day at the Alamo for anyone who comes to claim it.”
“Really?” Suarez asked incredulously.
“Yes, really,” Sister Mary Beth answered a bit snarkily.
Sharp went on.
“Tell them if they don’t want to walk or if they’re unable to, to just flag me down. I’ll be here every day at two p.m.”
He looked at his hands.
He seemed to realize his people were close to death. Some had already died, and he could have stopped it.
“Okay,” he finally said. “You got it.”
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The group got back in their vehicles and left the project the same way they’d come in: in convoy.
They went directly to Alamo Plaza, where they parked their cars and met beneath a huge oak tree to confer.
“Do you think we accomplished anything at all?” Sister Krista asked.
“It seems to me those were all cold-hearted men who didn’t care if their neighbors lived or died.”
Sister Mary Beth said, “If nothing else we showed them all that Officer Sharp is a badass; a force to be reckoned with. I think they’ll play ball simply because they won’t want to incur her wrath.”
Officer Sharp beamed.