The Men Made of Stone
By Logan Lo
()
About this ebook
Life being what it is, one dreams of revenge.
- Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec
At what point does justice become revenge? Against the backdrop of New York City’s Chinatown, THE MEN MADE OF STONE follows two young men as they ascend the ranks of the city’s criminal gangland and, in the process, discover that everyone has a different answer to that question.
One man, known only as C, with a pistol and penchant for violence, turns a small street gang into a formidable underworld player. With the likes of Danny the Priest, who kills with impunity, but never on a Sunday, and the equally violent Trigger, C seeks freedom from the tongs, the criminal syndicates that control the street gangs.
The other man is Jack, an ambitious new tong associate who also rises to a position of power. On opposite sides of the battle for control of Chinatown, it seems inevitable that the two men’s destinies will collide.
But nothing in Chinatown is ever as it seems.
The two share a secret that has led them on their paths, and when C meets the lovely and mysterious Sarah, and Jack reunites with his childhood sweetheart, Rachael, they learn that some choices come with unexpected consequences. As the violence escalates, the two men struggle to find their footing, until one death changes everything for them.
While The Men Made of Stone is an old-fashioned story of two victims struggling for justice, it’s also a taut crime thriller, blending fiction with the true-grit vérité of the city’s underbelly.
Just as The Godfather introduced an English-speaking audience in 1969 to Italian terms like caporegime and the Cosa Nostra, this organized-crime page-turner will acquaint modern readers with the Chinese dai-low and the Vietnamese anh-hai. Balanced by universal themes of love, friendship, and duty, THE MEN MADE OF STONE exposes the sordid, yet fascinating, world of Asian-American street gangs and the power brokers who pull their strings.
Logan Lo
Don't know why people always write about themselves in third person - "Logan is a native New Yorker and lives with his wife and a plant named Harold near Central Park." Yet they do.The truth is that I actually am a native New Yorker and I do live with my wife and a plant named Harold near Central Park. And professionally, I'm an intellectual property attorney and a commercial real estate appraiser.But there's this saying that we are what we constantly do. If that's the case, first and foremost, I'm a collector and teller of stories. For example, I'm a book reviewer at the New York Journal of Books and have had a fairly well-trafficked blog at loganlo.com for years.Still, while the technology of expression and consumption may change, in the end, it's still the basic need to tell and be told a good story.So, let me tell you some stories...
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The Men Made of Stone - Logan Lo
Cast of Characters
Ah-goong - Grandfather
with a secondary meaning of Godfather
Anh-Hai - The shadowy leader of Nikki Tran and the SAK; anh-hai
being older brother in Vietnamese
Brinn - FBI Agent under Lipton
Bryson - The dai-low (gang-leader) of the Westside Five Ghosts
C - The current dai-low of the HFP gang
Chin - The leader of the Peace Tong, also called the Ah-goong
Cloudy - A foot-soldier in the HFP
Dai-low - Gang leader
Danny the Priest - A lieutenant in the HFP gang
HFP – Tommy and C's gang; HFP standing for the Romanized Chinese words of black tiger gang
FG - The Five Ghosts, the largest gang in Chinatown made of the East and West FG
Jack - A rising Peace Tong associate
John Rabe - The reverend of a NYC church
Kid Twist - An associate in the Red Tong and former HFP lieutenant
Latin Royals - A Latin-American gang
Lipton - Lead FBI Agent
Mark - A Brooklyn shop owner
Matt - C's childhood friend
Ox - An associate in the Red Tong and former HFP lieutenant
Nikki Tran - The dai-low of the SAK gang
Peace Tong - The largest tong in NYC's Chinatown
Rachael - The love of Jack
Red Tong - The second tong in NYC's Chinatown, which controls the HFP
Richard Pang - The leader of the Red Tong, which control the FG gang
SAK - The South Asian Killas gang, controlled by the Anh-Hai
Sarah - The love of C
Shank - A foot-soldier in the HFP gang
Slim Grey - A foot-soldier in the SAK gang
Tommy - The original dai-low of the HFP gang
Tong - The criminal organizations that run the gangs
Trigger - A lieutenant in the HFP gang
TT - The dai-low of the Eastside Five Ghosts
Uncle Six - The Second-in-Command of the Red Tong and Jack's mentor
Contents
Cast of Characters
Part I
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Part II
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Part III
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Part IV
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Part I
Chapter 1
Boston, February 25, 1996
The young man whistled as he stared at the door, the fingers of his left hand touching the jagged scar that ran from the corner of his eye to his upper lip. In his right hand he twirled a heavy gold pen. He sat at a large mahogany table in a room otherwise empty of furniture. A hulking man stood beside him, looking worried. A snake tattoo covered his thick neck.
C,
the large man said, where is this guy?
Relax, Trigger,
the younger man replied as he slipped the pen into his pocket. Remember, anyone that's gotta be somewhere is delivering something…
Or about to have his shit delivered,
Trigg said impatiently.
Four other men were in the room. A second young man stood in a corner, appearing to look at nothing. Three other Asian men, dressed in nearly identical, ill-fitting dark suits, shifted on their feet as if waiting for something to happen. C was relaxed as he stroked the wooden handle that jutted from a black felt bag at his feet.
There was a knock on the door. C motioned to one man, who wordlessly opened the door to a group of men, each one larger than the one who went in before him.
A Chinese man about sixty followed the others in with a blond man in his twenties. He appeared to be a mix of Asian and Caucasian, and his glasses hid his eyes.
Uncle Six, welcome to Boston,
C said, without getting up from his chair. It's nice to finally meet you.
And you, young man,
Uncle Six said, taking a seat. I'm looking forward to doing some business.
He gestured toward the blond man. That's Jack, a new Peace Tong member. He's with me.
The tongs were the criminal organizations that controlled the Asian street gangs; the Peace Tong was the largest such group in New York's Chinatown. C's gang, the Hei Fu Pang, or Black Tiger Gang, reported to the Red Tong. The tongs were also known to occasionally be involved in legitimate businesses in Chinatown.
The blond man nodded at C and said hello in Chinese.
C gazed at him, looking amused. You're the guy that called me. That's pretty good. What else can you do?
Let's get to the point,
the old man interrupted, his mood turning businesslike. What happened to your leader is . . . regrettable. Rogue elements of the Five Ghosts Gang.
You mean the Eastside FG?
C asked. They were rogue elements?
Uncle Six stiffened. There's only one Five Ghosts. No Eastside, no Westside. Five Ghosts.
Then you're one of the only ones who think that way,
C said.
Those men were acting on their own,
the old man said. We've all suffered this past year. Your gang has caused as much trouble as it has received, but we're willing to move past it. Your gang is too talented to work for the number two tong. With the Spanish and the Vietnamese gangs gone, we have a chance to organize you young ones. With the loss of your leader and our…
Rogue elements,
C finished for him.
Yes,
Uncle Six said tightly. With the loss of our rogue elements, we have a chance for a new day in Chinatown. With stability and control.
What's the offer?
C asked.
A unified Five Ghosts and a unified Chinatown. The HFP can be absorbed into the Five Ghosts. And you can lead them – second, of course, to Bryson.
So, essentially, replace the Eastside Five Ghosts,
C said, smirking. The king is dead, long live the king. Sorry, but I'm not so much a follower. With the SAK and Latin Royals gone, there's really only the Westside FG and the HFP in Chinatown now. I think Chinatown can handle two gangs. Seeing as how that's still an improvement.
I'm giving you face just by being here. Do you really think the Red Tong will let you take over the HFP? Richard will just install one of his own men.
If that's the case, we'll be independent contractors,
C said.
Uncle Six stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. Don't be ridiculous. You'll stand against the Red Tong, the Five Ghosts, and us? At best you have 30 men left. There're almost 80 in the Five Ghosts alone. You might want to think that over carefully.
Rather rule in heaven than serve in hell,
C told him. So yes, the HFP's mine. And no one takes what's mine. Not anymore. The Five Ghosts, what's left of them, already learned that we're all-time. You're here because the Westside FG's all you got now. They hit us first so we hit them back. And yeah, you've got lotsa men, but not a soldier in the lot. We'll take our chances.
Independent contractors,
Uncle Six scoffed. Without the protection of a tong, how will you survive?
The SAK are independent,
C said. Or were.
And look what happened to them.
Yeah,
C said. "We happened to them."
They're Vietnamese,
Uncle Six said, ignoring him. And they had the protection of the Anh-Hai, that's how they survived for so long.
Not Chinese,
C said. Right, South Asian Killas. And once again, it's past tense – if there was an Anh-Hai, he's dead now or never existed, just a smokescreen they hid behind. We don't need smokescreens.
Who do you think you are?
Uncle Six demanded. His eyes fell upon the slim young man they called Danny the Priest because he had a tattoo of a crucifix on his neck. Weren't you next in line to be dai-low?
Uncle Six said to him.
Everyone turned to look at Danny, who smiled and nodded briefly at C before addressing the old man. Uncle Six, you and I know that I'd be a terrible dai-low. I like my freedom too much. And Trigg here's Korean, and you'd hate that even more.
Stupid children,
Uncle Six said, his face flushing. No gang exists unless the Uncles say so – I should kill you all now.
C got to his feet quickly, grabbing the handle poking out of the bag at his feet as he rose. He stood there holding a large sword with nine rings along the spine, and it rattled like a metal snake. As he did this, Jack slipped between him and Uncle Six. No one else in the room moved.
Jack moved toward C until they were face to face, looking almost like negative images of each other. As the men in the ill-fitting suits drew their guns, Jack said, without taking his eyes off C, I'm not afraid to die.
C said to his men, Down boys.
Then he addressed the bespectacled young man. Brave words, Jack. Spoken like a man who's never known true fear before. But you will. And you're gonna have to live up to those words some day. No one'll care about another dead Chinese boy, even a half-breed like you.
Maybe. But the Peace Tong'll be pissed as hell if you kill the underboss,
Jack said, motioning to Uncle Six. And this is Boston. No one kills anyone here unless they want to deal with the Boston tongs too.
You speak the lingo,
C said with a smile. Good. I like that.
You either work with us or you die,
Jack said. Those are your only choices. You break away from the Red Tong and come to us, the Peace Tong. If you stay there, then you continue to take your chances against the Five Ghosts and us. And if you leave the Red Tong and don't take our offer, then you have to fight both tongs. And no gang can survive that.
Uncle Six spoke up. You chose Boston because you know it's neutral territory. But New York is not. So, I offer it once again – will you join the Five Ghosts and us? Call an end to this war between your gang and the Five Ghosts?
I'm sorry about the sword,
C said without much conviction as he put it away. It's a generous offer. But I'll need time to decide.
You have only a little,
Uncle Six said, and then we need an answer.
We can still work together,
C said. As independent contractors, like the SAK.
With that, you'd still have to contend with the Red Tong,
Uncle Six said, and the Peace Tong would not have your loyalty.
Money makes everyone loyal – enough money, anyway.
Uncle Six laughed contemptuously. You have a few days, and I'll let this insult pass, if only to see what the Red Tong will do to you when you tell them that you're…independent contractors, yes?
Well, that's our problem, isn't it? You wanted a meeting, and we came here because you asked. Out of face. Let us try and resolve our problems with the Red Tong on our own -- we just ask for the space to do what needs to be done.
The Red Tong won't stand for this,
Uncle Six said. As weak as they are, they'll take everyone and everything you've ever loved.
They're welcome to try,
C answered as he stood up. But we're hard men to kill. You know that, that's why you're here. Call down the FG until we resolve our differences with the Red Tong and then I'll get you my answer.
That's the problem here,
Uncle Six said. You think this is a polite request. It is not. You may not be alive long enough to give me an answer.
Uncle Six motioned to his men and turned to walk out. His men backed out slowly, their guns still drawn. Jack was the last man to leave and he still faced C.
C flashed him a smile and began to whistle the song he'd been whistling when the visitors arrived.
Jack stared at him. He'd heard that song before.
It wasn't until they were in the car that Uncle Six spoke. That was brave of you, Jack. I've lost my stomach for violence. The future of the Tong is in legitimate businesses and young men like you. As I told Chin, you need a more hands-on role in the Peace Tong.
As the head of the Peace Tong, Chin was the Godfather of New York's Chinatown. You're a lucky one,
Uncle Six continued. It's good to have you with us. Without Charlie Boss to help us…,
he said as his voice trailed off. He forced a smile. Ah, well. TT is strong. If C doesn't want to lead the Ghosts, then TT will. C is a very stupid man. All of them are.
Uncle Six turned to look at the younger man. Am I speaking too fast for you? You understood what we were saying in there?
Bits and pieces,
Jack said. My Mandarin's really rusty, but no, it's fine. That guy C seems serious though.
He's a stupid man,
Uncle Six said again. It would be a better world if everyone knew their proper place in it. He's greedy. All he had to do was ask and he could have had a nice piece of Chinatown for himself. He could have eventually replaced Charlie Boss as the leader of the Five Ghosts.
Some people don't like to be given things,
Jack said with a shrug. Some people just take what they feel is theirs to begin with.
Uncle Six smiled. He liked Jack. First time in Boston?
Jack continued to stare out the window at the river. No. I came here before to visit an old friend. Years ago.
Uncle Six chuckled. A woman, I'm sure.
Jack said nothing and stared out at the darkness.
Chapter 2
Sarah was in her apartment when her phone rang. Tall and slim, with skin like porcelain and red lips, she looked like a Chinese mannequin come to life as she picked up the receiver. Hello?
Hey, it's me.
Hey there, C,
Sarah said, smiling as she searched for a pen. I was wondering where you've been.
Sorry,
C said, it's been a little crazy for me lately – just got back from Boston. Family stuff. I'm wondering if you were maybe up for dinner tonight?
Smooth,
she said. Sure.
Okay, what are you in the mood for?
I'll eat anything.
How about Vietnamese?
OK, anything but that,
Sarah said.
Indian?
And that.
So when you say, 'I'll eat anything,' you really mean, 'I won't eat just anything.'
Stop being difficult,
she said with a laugh. I'll see you soon.
C left the HFP's main apartment in Chinatown and walked to the lot where he kept his car, a 1991 Mazda RX-7, one of the two possessions C had that he loved. He got into his car and Cloudy, the sullen young man who dyed his jet black hair with red and blue streaks, slid in on the passenger side.
Hey man,
C said. Cloudy nodded in acknowledgment. Like Trigger, Cloudy was Korean. He earned his name because he was always serious, unlike the louder and livelier Trigger. Cloudy's English still needed work, so when Trigger wasn't around, he was even more reticent.
When they pulled up in front of a green townhouse just east of Times Square, C said, Hang out here for a sec. I'm just gonna run in.
C headed for the door and rang the bell to be buzzed in.
Looking up at the four flights of stairs, he shook his head before he sprinted up. When he arrived at the door, he ran his fingers through his hair and knocked. Sarah opened the door and greeted him with a grin. Hey,
she said. Come on in.
C entered the apartment and said, You might want to mention to your landlord that they have these things called elevators now.
That's what you said last time. Wait for me here? I'll be just a sec.
She disappeared into the bathroom and C looked around. The clean white walls and hardwood floors were a welcome change from the barren and dirty rooms at the place he called home.
So,
Sarah called out from the bathroom, should I start worrying that you're repeating yourself already?
She stepped back out into the hallway, smoothing down her dress. OK, I'm good, let's go.
C smiled. That'll work.
They walked downstairs to the waiting car. Cloudy flashed Sarah a brief smile and said hello, but that was all. He squeezed himself into the cramped back seat.
Sarah looked at C beside her, with his tailored clothes and neatly trimmed hair, and then back at the wild looking young man sitting in the back seat, lighting a cigarette. Interesting, she thought, that Cloudy was the only person C had introduced her to the entire time they had been seeing each other.
Hey Sarah,
C said, put on your seatbelt. This car's only got driver side airbags.
That's comforting,
she said.
Y'never know what might happen,
C answered. And Cloudy, put that out.
Cloudy tossed his cigarette out the window without a word.
The ride was quiet, despite C's attempts to fill up the space between them with chatter. Arriving at the restaurant, C let himself out, but not before saying to Cloudy, I'll be in here about an hour or two, but we might do something else afterward. Keep an eye on your pager, okay?
Cloudy looked at C. I don't know, C. Maybe I stay? Better, yeah?
No,
C said, I'm good, I'll page you if something comes up.
Cloudy shrugged, and C got out and walked around to Sarah's side and opened the door for her. Cloudy lit a cigarette and slid back into the driver's seat before speeding away.
C led Sarah into the restaurant, and when the waiter came he ordered Kung Pao chicken. Sarah ordered the filet mignon with basil.
When the waiter was gone, she turned to him. Alright, so are you going to tell me the deal with your friend? He just spends his Sundays being your driver?
Not exactly,
C said.
You're a cryptic guy, C.
You think?
I think,
she said with a grin, as the two of them settled into their night out together. They talked with the familiarity of old friends, about TV shows they watched as kids, their favorite foods, and their best memories. She told him about school and her life. She'd grown up in Southern California and always wanted to study art.
She seemed surprised when C said he was Mandarin Chinese. I thought you were Cantonese, like me.
She leaned back a little, looking at him. Actually, you look a little mixed.
C laughed. No, but I get that a lot. Big eyes.
Yeah,
she said, they're nice. Gray's unusual.
Glad you approve,
he said. I can't send them back.
They stayed for over an hour, talking and laughing. After C paid the bill and they'd gone out into the evening, they decided to walk south, down Broadway. They talked all the way to Columbus Circle, and C pulled her close and kissed her.
After he pulled away, she opened her eyes and said, You're so strange. You don't talk or act like a club guy.
How many club guys do you know?
Okay,
she said, I don't know any, but you don't seem the type. Were you joking when you said you didn't go to college when we met? Don't you want to?
Well,
he said, I didn't go, but yeah, I want to. I've got a friend that's always telling me I should get a degree. Maybe in a few years, after I'm done with this life.
He sounds smart,
she said.
C laughed. He's a dentist, so he's smart enough, but I'll tell him what you said.
He patted his pockets and grimaced. Shoot.
What?
I left my cell in the car,
C said. You have one, right?
Here,
she said, and she handed C her phone. C paged Cloudy, leaving Sarah's number.
As they waited on the street, Sarah smiled up at him. Time flies when you're having fun.
Did you have fun?
C asked.
Yes, I did,
she said. She honestly hadn't thought she would.
Cloudy and I could give you a lift home, you know.
No, that's okay,
Sarah said, There're a few errands I have to run anyway. I'll just grab a cab.
You're on the way,
he said, but she was already heading for the curb with her hand up.
So when will I see you again?
he called out to her.
She flashed him a big smile. Soon!
A cab pulled up and she got in, waving at him.
C shook his head as the cab pulled away. It's just as well, he thought. I've got too much to do already.
Forty-Sixth Street, go down Fifth Avenue,
Sarah said to the cabbie.
She settled into the back seat and replayed their dinner. Once again, C had turned out to be more thoughtful and intelligent than she would have expected of an up-and-coming gangster prince.
Her phone rang, and she rummaged in her bag to fish it out. He was punctual, as always.
Yes,
she said.
How was it?
the voice asked. "Find out anything new?
Not this time,
she said, but I will.
Sarah hung up and looked at her phone. She decided to save Cloudy's pager number. It might come in handy later.
Chapter 3
When C opened his bedroom door one morning, weeks after the meeting with Uncle Six, he saw that it was already late afternoon and most of the HFP were playing cards in the living room.
C walked into the kitchen, greasy and stacked with dirty dishes, and sat at the table. There had been no major incidents since the Boston meeting, and the HFP had taken advantage of the lull to concentrate on cementing their businesses and taking over the remaining operations of their former rivals, the SAK.
The Red Tong, to which the HFP and C supposedly reported, had been demanding a meeting for weeks, but so far C had managed to avoid the matter. He was pouring himself a glass of orange juice when Danny the Priest walked in.
Where's Trigger?
C asked before he gulped down his drink.
He went to the gym and then stepped out with that new kid, Shank,
Danny said, doing some work.
Danny took a seat across from C. You sure it's safe to take on new talent when we're warring? Cloudy's already got his new Korean crew out in Brooklyn.
C frowned. It's 'cause we're warring. We'll need as many people as we can get soon enough.
Danny hesitated, and then he said, Maybe the middle of a war's not the time to be seeing a chick, either.
C was suddenly alert. Which chick?
Which chick, please,
Danny said, sarcastically. It's my job to know what's going on. So…how is Sarah?
C smiled. Danny was smart, smarter than he was himself, sometimes. Don't be so worried,
he said. We got everything under control. The SAK, the Royals, they're gone. We'll be fine. As for Sarah, wanna see some pics?
Danny grinned. Sure.
This was probably the only time he had ever known C to be more than casually interested in someone.
C went into his bedroom and came back with a slim pack of photos.
Danny looked through them and whistled.
Yeah, she's beautiful, right?
Well, she's not ugly,
Danny said, flipping through the pack again. So, why haven't you introduced all of us yet?
I'm not sure she'd approve of what we do.
It's what we do,
Danny said, and he shrugged. He handed back the pictures and pushed back from the table. Come on, we gotta go meet up with Trigger.
He grabbed their jackets from the hooks by the front door. He's scoping out a few joints with Cloudy to put up all the new Brooklyn boys for the HFP.
C went to get dressed. This was business, after all.
How is Trigger's new crew, anyway?
C was staring out the window as Danny drove them into Brooklyn.
Shank and alla'em?
Danny shook his head. They're hot-heads, but they've got guts.
C nodded, focused on the buildings they passed. Near their destination, Chinese signs began to appear, announcing the construction of new buildings. A look of uncomfortable familiarity passed over his face.
You okay, man?
Danny asked. You look like a ghost.
C didn't answer. He pulled out his cell to call Trigger. Where're you?
he said impatiently.
When he answered, Trigger said, I just went to grab something to eat with Cloudy and pick up some lottery tickets.
Where're Shank and them?
They went to hustle, and some old man checking on that restaurant over there started to hassle'em so…,
Trigger said, but C had already hung up. His bad mood turned worse as he looked across at a familiar sign: Empire Palace, in neon. A smaller sign below it was written in Chinese and misspelled English, Re-Openning soon!
Pull over,
C said.
C got out of the car and strode over to the Empire Palace. He pulled open the door to see Shank and Shank's cousin Kevin laughing as they slapped around a small old man. Shank turned to see C's face twisted with rage as C charged at them. Shank let go of the man's collar and Kevin stepped between them, hoping to calm C down, but he was swatted away. The old man collapsed next to a pile of paint cans.
This is a Peace Tong restaurant, you dumb fuckers!
C rarely cursed, and the other men looked shocked. And we don't hustle old men!
C punched Shank squarely in the jaw, sending him flying back at Kevin. He said, Listen to me, and listen carefully. This restaurant is never, ever to be bothered. Ever! Do you understand me? If you ever come here again, I will slit your throat from ear-to-fucking-ear.
Trigger and Danny came running up behind C as Trigger said, Shit, what the fuck're you doing?
C said nothing. He leaned down and looked at the old man, who tried to back away from him, his breathing labored. The old man clutched at his chest and appeared to pass out. C checked the old man's pulse and nodded to himself.
He got up and looked for Shank.
He found him backed up against a wall. Without a word, C grabbed Shank's throat.
What the fuck, C?! Let him go.
Trigger and Danny grabbed the dai-low, but C held on as Shank turned red, and then darker.
Let him go, C!
Trigger yelled, finally managing to pull him off of Shank. Fuck,
Trigger said, get yourself together, man!
C, still enraged, glared at Shank, who was coughing up blood on the floor. He pulled Shank's wallet from his pocket, took out the money, and then reached into his own pocket and took out another roll of bills.
He put the cash carefully into the old man's pockets and then turned back to Kevin while pointing at Shank. Pick that piece of shit up and bring him back to the crib – right fucking now. Danny, call an ambulance for the old man. Don't use your cell.
C stormed out the door as Trigger grabbed his arm, hustling him into the waiting car before speeding off.
Shit, C, the restaurant's not even open yet, there's no way the tong coulda found out it was us. And old men die all the time, that's what they do. What difference does it make?
C ignored Trigger. He opened his window and took a deep breath.
The difference, he thought, was that he knew this one.
Chapter 4
I fucked up,
Trigger said as he drove. I know it's Peace Tong territory and I shoulda told'em not to hustle, but you can't beat a guy half to death over that.
Just be happy I only went halfway,
C said. You guys know as well as I do that after Boston, we need to lay low. This's more steam that we just don't need right now. We should be concentrating on what we need to do, like wrapping up SAK businesses like we did the Royals. Charlie Boss has disappeared, you know that, so Bryson and TT're fighting for control of what's left of the FG.
TT's a fucking basket case,
Trigger said.
I know, that's why I want him to win. Bryson's smarter, not by much, but still smarter. I'd rather fight TT than Bryson 'cause TT's all temper and no brains. With TT leading the Eastside FG, we've got the best chance to do what we gotta do– but only if we keep it down low.
Trigger suspected there was something else C wasn't telling them, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He scowled as he pulled into the parking lot with the other cars behind him. Danny stepped out to join them.
As the group walked back home, C saw three men leaning against a black Cadillac outside their door. Trigger studied the license plate. Fuck,
he said, it's that Lipton guy.
He's back?
Danny asked, He's been gone for ages.
Dammit,
C muttered. We don't need this Boy Scout sniffing around now.
Gentlemen,
Agent Lipton said, stepping forward, What's new and exciting? I mean besides your boss Tommy and Nikki Tran dropping dead and Charlie Boss disappearing? I leave for a couple of years and look what happens.
Tall and slim, Agent Lipton was dressed in an old jacket and dark slacks and, although he