Hit Squad (5 page)

Monday in the band room. Peter was on the broken-spring couch beside Whisper where he could keep his eyes on Birgit. Mickey was sitting in the easy chair. Birgit was in her usual place high on the desk, smiling down on them.

“And so easy,” said Peter with a laugh.

“And so thrilling!” said Birgit, excited. “I haven't done anything that wild and …
satisfying
in my whole life! I loved it! I doubt if those three pigs will show their faces for a month. It will take at least a week to get all the yellow paint off their heads.”

Birgit turned to Mickey. “What do you say, Michael?”

Mickey nodded. He hadn't taken his eyes off Birgit since he'd first walked in. None of the boys had. “The hit went just the way we planned,” he said. “Stealing the van, grabbing the girls, everything,” It was the most he'd ever said to her.

“But did you enjoy it?” said Birgit.

“Yeah. It was okay,” Mickey admitted. He really wasn't so sure. It was fun working with Birgit and the two boys. They were a good team. And it made him feel a part of the Grandview crowd. But there was something about the whole operation he hadn't enjoyed. Every time he tried to figure out what it was, his brain short-circuited, wanting to think of Birgit instead.

“The important thing is,” said Birgit, “that the word will get around. It will be a wake-up call for all the other lowlife bullies at Grandview.”

Whisper cracked his knuckles. “So who's next?”

“Joey Washington's muggers,” said Birgit. “Agreed?”

The boys nodded.

Birgit turned to Mickey. “You talked to Joey, Michael. Does he know who these scumbags are?”

“Only one. Guy named Gordie Tweed,” said Mickey. “He didn't know the name of the other one. But they're a pair. They go everywhere together. They pick on Asian kids and gays. Shouldn't be difficult to find out the second name.”

Birgit smiled. “Gordie Tweed. I know that creep. Tenth grader. Let's find out who his psycho friend is. We meet here Friday lunch hour. Okay?”

“Gino Bibby. He's our number two man,” said Whisper, cracking his knuckles.

Mickey said, “I had Joey ID Tweed and Bibby, just to make sure we get the right guys.”

Birgit said, “Joey's back at school?”

Mickey nodded. “Got bored watching TV.”

Whisper continued quietly, “Bibby and Tweed won't be easy to take down. They're big and they're tough. They work out four or five hours a day at the gym. They're body-builders.”

Peter said, “So what are you saying? We need more muscle?”

“Not if we take them one at a time,” said Mickey.

Peter boasted, “I know them and I know we can handle them. No problem. There are only two of them and four of us. Three, not counting Birgit.” He smiled winningly at her. “We don't want to see Birgit get hurt.”

Mickey cringed inwardly. Peter was beginning to have a painful effect on him.

“If we try to take them together, three bodies won't be enough,” said Whisper. “We need at least four.”

“I've got a friend who can help us out,” said Mickey. “Why don't you leave the muscle problem to me?”

Heck liked to take a turn at kitchen cleanup after supper, but he only got in the way. Or he broke something in his ham-sized fists.

The kids were watching TV; the Hobbits were reading.

It was Mickey and Candy's turn for the dishes. Mickey dried and Candy washed. Heck came in, filling the kitchen with his bulk. Mickey usually left it to Candy to get
rid of him. Candy had a way with her. She knew how to do it nicely so his feelings weren't hurt.

As soon as Heck had gone off to join the kids in front of the TV, Candy was angry. “I can't believe what I'm hearing, Mickey. Tell me it's not true.”

Mickey's heart sank. Play the innocent, he thought. “What's not true, Candy?”

“You asked Heck to help out in some funny business. He won't tell me what. Says it's a secret. I'm warning you, Mickey, if you get Heck into any kind of trouble you'll have the Hobbits to answer to. And me.”

Her eyes flashed. Candy was really something when she was mad. Wild hair, flashing brown eyes, pink cheeks. That was the trouble with Heck: he couldn't keep his big mouth shut. Well, at least he hadn't told Candy anything more.

“It's nothing to get upset about, Candy, just a harmless little caper. One evening's work, that's all.”

“Tell me what you're up to. I don't want
Heck mixed up in something illegal. If he goes to jail again it'll be for serious time.”

“Candy, I told you. It's nothing.”

“Okay. I'll tell the Hobbits and they'll ground him for the next month. He won't even be allowed into the backyard.”

Mickey groaned. “Aw, come on. There's no need—”

“So tell me what it's all about.”

“I can't tell. I took an oath of secrecy.”

“You're kidding!”

“It's true.”

Candy thought for a few seconds; then she said, “You're allowed to break an oath for one minute if it's for someone's good. But you have to circle the room three times widdershins.”

“You're making that up. I don't believe you.” Mickey looked at her to see if she was serious. She was. She was Irish. Her parents were killed in a car crash. They had that in common. Mickey's parents were also killed in a car crash when he was only seven. He'd been in foster homes ever since. The Hobbits'
was his fourth. And his last, he hoped.

“What's widdershins?”

“You circle to your left.” She pointed a handful of knives and forks at the kitchen floor. “Do it.”

Mickey did it. He walked three times in a circle around the kitchen. Then he told Candy about the girls who attacked Birgit and what the Hit Squad did to them.

“What's this got to do with Heck?”

Mickey said, “If you bothered to go to school I wouldn't have to explain all this.” He told her about Joey Washington. Candy listened without interruption.

“So we need Heck as backup muscle. These guys are big and mean. Look, the minute's up. I can't tell you anything else.”

“What do you plan to do to these guys? Cut off their hair and paint their heads, same as those poor girls?”

Mickey shrugged. “Probably. It's not all figured out yet. Why are you being so sarcastic?”

Candy frowned as she let the last pot drop
with a clatter onto the drain board. “Sounds to me like you really enjoyed doing it to those girls, cutting off their hair and everything. You enjoyed it, Mickey, didn't you?”

Mickey shrugged. “I don't know.”

“Gave you a feeling of power, right? You enjoyed making those girls suffer.” Candy's eyes glittered like pins.

“They were pigs. Bullies. They had it coming.”

Candy grabbed a towel and helped with the last of the drying. She said nothing and wouldn't meet his eye.

After a while he couldn't stand her silence.

“What?”

She said nothing.

Louder. “What?”

She gave a sniff. “Well.” She stopped. “I don't see much difference between you and the bad guys. Seems to me your so-called Hit Squad is just as bad as the bullies you're out to get.”

Mickey usually ate alone in the school cafeteria, but today Peter and Whisper joined him. They discussed the hit on Tweed and Bibby, Joey Washington's attackers.

“Keep your voices down,” warned Whisper.

Mickey felt good that he now had Grand-view friends. He'd noticed in the last few days that other members of the football team
were starting to give him friendly smiles and nods and call him by name. “Hi there, Michael,” they said. Had Whisper or Peter been telling other football players about the hit on the three girls? If not, why had they become so friendly all of a sudden? What about that oath of secrecy? He remembered talking to Candy. She had sure fooled him with that widdershins garbage. But was he really fooled? Or had he just used it as an excuse to talk about something that had been worrying him? Used it as an opportunity to get something off his chest?

But he had broken Birgit's secrecy oath, he knew that. And this made him feel bad too.

Then Mickey saw something that made him feel sick. He gave Whisper and Peter a nudge and pointed. Over on the other side of the cafeteria their two future victims, Tweed and Bibby, were giving Billy Rudge a hard time.

Everyone knew Billy Rudge. Billy was mentally challenged. Everyone liked him because of his constant smile and his eagerness
to please. He cleaned and waited tables during the lunch hour and was paid a free lunch. He was wearing his Canucks T-shirt and backward baseball cap.

Tweed and Bibby had Billy running back and forth as he did his best to try and please them. When Billy brought their order, Tweed sent him back. “That ain't it, Billy! I asked for a Coke, not a 7UP. And bring a bag of chips, the vinegar kind!”

“Hey! Billy! I didn't order a ham sandwich; I ordered tuna on rye,” yelled Bibby rudely.

“Billy, I changed my mind,” said Tweed. “Forget the chips and bring me a burger. No onions, lots of ketchup. You got that?”

Billy looked miserable as he tried to remember the orders. When he thought he had it all figured out he gave a triumphant grin. “I'll be quick as I can, guys,” he stammered and ran off to the kitchen. As he ran past, Bibby and Tweed stuck out their legs to trip him. Billy stumbled and almost fell.

The other kids in the area, some of them seniors, failed to come to Billy's aid. Instead they looked away, afraid of the two bullies.

Whisper grinned and cracked his knuckles. “Teaching those two creeps some manners is going to be a real pleasure.”

Peter agreed. “You can say that again.”

They watched the comings and goings of Gordie Tweed and Gino Bibby for a whole week. Then, when they thought they had enough information on their daily routines, they struck.

Saturday afternoon. Mickey, Peter and Heck hung around the parking lot in front of the Oakridge Theatres, waiting for a large vehicle to show up, a van preferably, something old and easy to steal.

It wasn't long before a VW van parked. A father and three kids got out and headed for
The Lord of the Rings
matinee. They waited until the father and kids had disappeared
inside the cinema. Then they stole their van. Mickey wired the ignition. Peter did the driving. He was a good driver. Plenty of experience. Peter didn't mind everyone knowing he owned a new Lexus.

The Lord of the Rings
was a long movie. It guaranteed them a few hours before the van was reported stolen.

They picked up Birgit and Whisper and their bags of ski masks and baseball bats.

No scissors this time, just the bats.

They discussed the van seating. There was plenty of room. Then they drove over to the Hastings Pool Hall. Peter parked the van on the opposite side of the street. They waited.

Mickey introduced Heck to the others.

“Hi, Heck,” said Birgit and Peter together.

“Glad to have you along, Heck,” said Whisper.

“Have I seen you someplace before?” asked Birgit.

“I dunno,” said Heck happily.

The wait wasn't long. They watched
Tweed and Bibby leave the pool hall and climb into Tweed's old Pontiac. The Pontiac started with a roar and headed up the street belching thick clouds of exhaust smoke.

Peter followed. Soon they were in thickening city traffic, on Cambie, heading towards downtown. When they reached Broadway, the Pontiac darted over into the right lane and turned right. Peter followed. The Pontiac turned right onto Yukon and sped up the hill to 12th, then sharp right and over to Cambie again, completing a circle.

“They're onto us,” said Peter. “They know they're being followed.

The Pontiac ran a red light at Broadway. Peter braked to a stop.

“I lost them!” Peter pounded the wheel in frustration.

When the light changed, Peter pushed his foot to the floor. They raced over Cambie Bridge. As they flew down the off-ramp at Seymour, the Pontiac was once again in sight, heading for the waterfront.

“Good work, Peter,” said Birgit.

They chased through downtown streets, taking chances at the lights.

They followed the Pontiac into Gastown, the oldest part of the city. Water Street was crowded with people. The Pontiac stopped at a crosswalk to let the tourists cross.

“We've got them!” said Birgit.

Peter caught up behind the Pontiac, still stuck at the crossing.

Tweed and Bibby jumped out of their car and made a run for it through the crowds.

“Let's go!” said Whisper. They all leaped out of the van. Mickey, Peter and Whisper had baseball bats. Heck didn't need one.

“What about the ski masks?” said Peter.

“Never mind them. Just go!” yelled Birgit.

They ran, pushing their way through the thick crowds of shoppers and sightseers. Mickey felt the thrill of the chase. It was like those pictures in the British magazines. The hounds were running the foxes to earth. The quarry was in sight, running scared.

It wouldn't be long now. Soon Joey Washington would be revenged.

Mickey spotted Tweed and Bibby running past Gassy Jack's statue. But then the pair suddenly disappeared.

Birgit yelled, “Did you see where they went?”

“Must've ducked in somewhere.” Peter was panting.

“Quick! In here,” Whisper growled.

They followed him in through the back
door of a spaghetti restaurant. Then they ran down several flights of steps into a dim and dirty basement. It was unlighted except for what daylight could filter down through metal grills in the sidewalk above.

Mickey knew where they were: it was the old area of the city, rebuilt after the fire of 1886. He remembered it from an elementary school field trip. The fire had burned down several blocks. The builders of the new city had raised the streets high above the old sidewalks. What remained of the original city was now a dark wasteland of deserted tunnels. In many places, light and water forced their way in through chinks in the brickwork and concrete. The hollow tunnels slept in silent gloom for block after block. It was a dank, stale-smelling, empty underworld. The few outside doors that led down to the tunnels were secured with heavy padlocks. There were, however, ways through to the underground city by means of the old basement steps of a few Gastown shops and hotels. It was through
one of these that they now made their way. There were several signs saying
Keep Out
and
No Trespassing
.