No Room for Mercy (15 page)

The family stood by believing Kimi and Koko were actually trying to
help Spoonie out; they were, but their main goal for helping Spoonie
was to benefit themselves. “I believe so, why?” Kimi
responded to her sister’s question with her hands on her hips
and breathing heavily.

“Because, Kimi, Spoonie in a slump and we can be out here all
day. Lob one up to her so we can go eat.”

“Alright then. Hey, they got a meat lover’s special
right?” Kimi asked.

“I think so, but they got them li’l garlic sticks with
the dipping sauce, cheese sticks, girl that’s the bomb right
there and we can—”

“Hey! I thought y’all was talking about helping Spoonie!”
Naomi yelled.

Kimi and Koko were so caught up in their conversation about eating at
Pizza Hut they never saw nor heard their mother walk up on them.
“Throw the ball right so she can hit it!” Naomi snapped
as she turned and walked back out into the field.

“We going to pizza hut?” Kimi asked lowly.

Naomi paused, turned, and eyed her daughter with stern eyes. “Never
mind, momma,” Kimi stated and quickly turned away from her
mother and got ready to pitch.

It took Spoonie almost an hour to hit a homerun ball, and the ten
year-old was overjoyed as she ran and grabbed Doss’s hand and
guided him to the base and the two crossed together. The family was
happy Spoonie got to hit her ball, they only wished it didn’t
take so long because the sun was beating down on everybody like a
flame thrower.

“Hey Spoonie,” Walee began to speak as the family walked
off the field, “and don’t take this wrong way, ‘cause
I love ya’ like no other. They all thinking it, but ain’t
nobody in the family gonna say it—come August, when ya’
games start up? If ya’ lose again, we not doing that no more.
Sometimes you have to learn that you win some and lose some.”

“I already know that, Walee. But just having the family on the
field playing with me and Tyke was the best game ever! Thank you
everybody! Dad, you can still run pretty fast too!” Spoonie
ended as the family loaded themselves into the three vehicles and
finally made it to Pizza Hut, much to Kimi and Koko’s utter
delight.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ONE TO THE DOME

It was a month after Spoonie and Tyke’s playoff game down in
Ponca City—April of 2002. JunJie’s Gulfstream had just
landed at Midway Airport in Chicago a few minutes ago. He’d
flown into town on a prerequisite with his son, Phillip Tran, and his
godson Grover Kobayashi and the three were now riding with Finland
Xavier in a stretched BMW limousine.

“What brings you into town on such short notice, Mister
Maruyama?” Finland asked as the chauffeur wheeled the vehicle
through the city streets.

“You were in my home for Thanksgiving when I had a couple of
visitors. I told you the formalities of that meeting later on that
night and gave you a heads up.” JunJie replied as he sat back
and crossed his legs, brushing lint from his silk socks.

“The Onishi brothers. I take it they didn’t heed the
warning you told me about?” Finland said with a curious look on
his face.

“Which is why we have come. I want them taken care of because
they have played with my time and my money—both of which are
valuable to me and neither can I ill-afford to lose or go without.”
JunJie remarked as Phillip opened a briefcase and put stacks of
hundred dollar bills on display in the backseat.

Finland picked up a stack of the crisp green backs and took a sniff.
“Smells like murder,” he said.

JunJie smiled right along with Phillip and Grover and said, “A
lot is at stake, my friend. But this job will not be easy. Expedience
is a must also.”

“You’re paying upfront this time. This is new and must be
very important.”

“Yes. I am paying up upfront and this job should be made a
priority for you and your people. My son Phillip, Grover and I will
all be away the duration of this job. I don’t want to be
nowhere around when it all goes down for legal reasons. All the
information, the addresses, photos and the brothers’ daily
itinerary is inside this briefcase. Have your people complete this
job as soon as possible.”

“Why the rush if I may ask?”

“I’ve recently gotten information that the Onishi
brothers are scheduled to leave in approximately four weeks for Japan
to complete their deal with their investors overseas.”

“They’re just making the deal after all this time?”

“Funny how business works isn’t it? I was all set to get
things going last November, but it seems as if it has taken the Tokyo
investors a little longer than expected to raise the fifteen million
dollars Hayate and Isao needed to get their project underway. That
mishap has worked in our favor, Finland. We have much to gain should
this hit be a success. I’ll fill you in on the major details
over dinner.” JunJie said as he handed Finland the briefcase.

“Okay,” Finland replied. “I’ll get in contact
with my people the moment we’re done with the final details.”
he ended.

*******

“
There they go walking with them guns again. I bet they
slick asses go outta town soon,”
Martha said to herself as
she sat on the balcony outside the Great Room watching Bay and Tiva
head towards the shooting range behind the stockyards with their
father.

It was a week after JunJie’s meeting with Finland back in
Chicago, and all was quiet on the ranch. A little too quiet if you
were to ask Martha Holland. A few days earlier, DeeDee and Mendoza
had flown into Oklahoma City and were picked up by Doss and the big
three; and in Martha’s eyes, that particular visit didn’t
look like a social call. The men were locked away in Doss’s
private room a great portion of their visit and after visiting an
army surplus store back in town, DeeDee and Mendoza flew back to
Chicago with Dawk the following day. Something was going down without
question in Martha’s eyes given the men’s maneuvers, but
the reason behind the moves was a question she hadn’t the
answers to. She sat sipping a glass of white wine this late evening,
wondering what Doss and her two oldest nieces were discussing as they
walked east across the land, away from the setting sun.

“This here is a big pay day for the family, children,”
Doss remarked as he led Bay and T-top through the stockyards. “This
is one of those million dollar hits I told you about a while back.
Five hundred grand for each mark,” he said as he showed his
children pictures of two Japanese men.

“Who are they?” Bay asked.

“Their names are Hayate and Isao Onishi. Our man JunJie told
Finland that these guys must be removed within three week’s
time—but it won’t be easy from what you all’s
grandfather and Mendoza discussed with me during their short visit.”

“Why?” Tiva asked.

“For starters no hit is ever easy. With that aside, we’re
facing three problems. One, these guys live separate. Two, they have
to be hit on the same night and three—the weather will be a
factor. That’s why I want you two to practice shooting in the
dark with these night vision scopes we bought from the army surplus
store the other day. This will be a tough one, but I know we can do
it and the money is well worth the effort.”

Bay and T-top looked the photos over the duration of their walk and
entered the woods and set up their rifles to begin target practice.
Doss knew exactly what was on the line with this particular hit. From
all information given, the Onishi brothers were major heroin dealers,
but their power lay across the Pacific Ocean in Tokyo. Doss knew
leaving one or both brothers alive in a failed hit would have
repercussions for JunJie in Seattle because the Onishi brothers would
be sure to use their resources back home in Japan and retaliate on
American soil. A possible war with the Yakuza, the Japanese version
of the Mafia, was at stake should this job fail and Doss understood
that fact to the fullest; but the killer-for-hire had full confidence
in Bena and Tiva, two of the best snipers he’d ever seen
because he’d trained them specifically for these types of hits.

The whole two hours Bay and T-top practiced, they remained about a
hundred yards apart. Their shots were dead on under the moonlight,
but getting accustomed to the night vision scopes was a little
difficult because everything was a light shade of green. The deadly
duo would practice for another week straight under the darkness of
night. On their last night of practice, it had rained heavily and a
light fog set in, perfect conditions, Doss believed, as he led his
daughters back to Ponderosa to have dinner with the family once they
were done practicing.

The following day, Doss, Bay and Tiva were preparing to leave the
ranch and drive to Cicero, Illinois. Martha was out on the road with
Twiggy, a calculated move by Naomi, who felt her sister was getting a
little too concerned over her husband’s activities. Everything
was now set. All Doss and the big three had to do was fulfill the
contract.

*******

Arriving in Cicero after a twelve hour drive and a full night’s
rest, Doss took Bay and Tiva over to
Eastside Bar
where their
grandfather was waiting with Mendoza, Lucky and Dawk. The last time
Bay and Tiva were in this building was in June of 1991 when they were
only five years-old. They were just two innocent toddlers preparing
to leave Illinois for Oklahoma back then. Now, just short of eleven
years later, the twins were back in Cicero to meet up with long-time
mobsters who’d preceded them in order to take on an assignment
that would net the Chicago Gang a million dollars by eliminating the
lives of two men in Seattle, Washington.

The history, the lineage, better yet the bloodline of Twenty Third
Street Mafia lived on through this next generation of gangsters
deriving from within the Holland-Dawkins family, who were fast
becoming the strongest crew out of the Chicago Gang to date, and
whose services were often called on for the fulfillment of the gang’s
most difficult jobs.

“Well, look what my eyes are witnessing,” Mendoza said as
he stood up and greeted Doss and the twins just as they entered the
nearly empty bar. Patrons rarely visited
Eastside Bar
for
drinks and mingling in the 21
^st
century because it was
viewed as being outdated; but the men who made power moves on the
streets and controlled much of the drug traffic throughout the
Midwest could be found here always—and that was the only thing
that now mattered when it came to
Eastside Bar
.

“If Zell were alive he would surely be beside himself over this
scene right here,” Mendoza said as he walked up and hugged Bena
and Tiva. “You two have got to be the most gorgeous women
around,” he added, forcing Bena and Tiva to blush and thank him
in unison.

“Now you is gone stop flirting with my family if you don’t
want Francine to find out about this here,” DeeDee said through
laughter as he joined in and hugged his granddaughters.

“You’re just mad because I’m their favorite,”
Mendoza joked. “You might be their family by blood, but these
are my daughters at heart and in spirit.”

“You girls remember this place?” Doss asked.

Bena and Tiva scanned the empty room and looked at one another and
shrugged their shoulders. “Should we?” Bay asked.

“You two were knee high to my ankles last time you were in this
place,” Lucky said as he pulled out two chairs. “Dawk
knows the story. We’ve shared it with him the time he’s
been here. Come, ladies, it’s time yous two learn what this
thing of ours is really all about,” he added as a bowl of
pretzels and two bottles of red wine was placed onto the table.

A lesson in history, Mafia history, was about to be given to Bena and
Tiva Holland; and from this day forth, the twins, along with Dawk
Holland, would always be acknowledged as members of the Chicago Gang.
The next to lead the organization once the old-timers turned in their
guns were all present, save for Eddie Cottonwood, who was still
holding things down in Saint Louis under the tutelage of Coban Benito
and Humphrey Gaggi.

Bay and Tiva sat down side by side and listened intently as mafia
history was revealed. Twenty Third Street Mafia’s inception and
its wars were revealed in full detail, uncut and raw in the most
explicit form imaginable and the twins were taking it all in. The
whole time the men talked, Bena and Tiva never interrupted. They
waited until the proper time to ask questions and never came unnerved
over the things revealed over a period of several hours. It was fair
to say that by the time Bena and T-top were preparing to leave for
Seattle two days later, they were wiser to the business.

*******

After a 1,700 mile trek across Interstate-90 and laying eyes on some
of the most beautiful scenery the country had to offer, Doss, Lucky,
Bena and Tiva made it into Seattle after a thirty-six hour drive.
Airport security had been tightened since the events that had
unfolded with the hijacked planes on the east coast so plane rides to
a hit, no matter how far away a job was, was definitely out of the
question. Doss never used planes for jobs anyhow, but Seattle was in
the most northern and western part of the country and it had taken an
eternity to reach the city. Throughout the trek west, the group of
four felt as if they were getting further and further away from
actual civilization because cities, and then towns, became more and
more scarce.

During one stretch across the state of Montana, there wasn’t a
town around for miles and miles. Nothing but lush, green fields,
mountainous terrain, snow-capped peaks and crystal blue lakes.
Beautiful scenery, but the occupants inside the black suburban and
shiny new Cadillac Avalanche trailing weren’t out to sightsee.
Their deadly mission lay in a city on the Pacific Ocean and they were
making a beeline for the left coast with two Dragunov rifles and two
fully loaded .45 automatics.