This is the next to last chapter of Paper Tiger. After several net discussions with friends, The story is going to evolve a little and become Paper Tiger Book II. The last chapter is written for Paper Tiger, and will be posted in about a week.
Paper Tiger 6: A bitter taste in the mouth
Tyler's knees ached from being in a crouch for so long. He leaned out from the shadows of the bush he hid behind and looked up the dark street, trying to see something in the shadows. Since his rescue in the desert almost seven months ago, he'' been searching for a way to get Lance away from the Trocs, and a way to put the Trocs out of the picture.
It had to be in the hundreds still, and he felt sticky in the black lycra body suit he wore under his clothes. He touched the tiny ear-bud radio in his ear. "Anytime now." He said quietly. Across the street Darren touched his hand to his forehead in a salute and disappeared. He sniffed and rubbed his nose and looked up the street again. They were coming, he could feel it.
Several members of Tiger's Army were positioned for a sort of play, a way to rescue Lance and possibly start a war. A war between allies. Something moved and Tyler tensed. Two figures walked in a stagger down the middle of the road, laughing and bumping into each other.
"Get 'em when they pass." He whispered into the radio and slipped back away from the street. He moved forward to a better viewpoint as the first act unfolded. From a side street two figures jogged up, each dressed in just the right pants, showing just the right color of boxers above the waistband, and wearing the right shirts and shoes. They were clearly members of the East Boys, the mortal enemy of the Trocs. Their wars in L.A. were legendary.
One of the figures in the middle of the street stepped in front of the other, and Tyler knew it was Lance protecting the other. There were loud shouts, and one of the two that had run up suddenly held up a pistol and backed away. "Now." Tyler whispered into the radio, and three shots rang out. He watched as Lance clutched his chest and fell to his knees. The person he was protecting took off running and the other two abandoned Lance and chased after him.
They ran through the remnants of a warehouse and through a field, shouting curses and threats and firing their weapons. The runner tripped and rolled into a ditch. His attackers ran towards him, and he lifted his arms to shield himself. The closest one stopped and raised his gun, aiming directly at the runner's face. He flinched as a shot rang out.
And opened his eyes to see his would be killer's stunned expression. Blood stained his hands and trickled down his cheek from his mouth. He toppled onto the runner. There was a rustle in the bushes near the ditch and Darren stepped out into plain sight, followed by nine of The Army.
"Get out of here." Darren said quietly, holding out his hand to help the runner up. "You dissed us, we never fucked with you." The runner looked into the ditch at the East Boy and back at Darren, clearly shocked.
"Uh, maybe that was a mistake." He said uncertainly. "Never know who a dude's friends are, know what I mean?" He started to move backwards away from the group, looking at their tattoos on their shoulders and at their weapons. "Maybe we got no problem 'tween us." He looked one more time at the body in the ditch and back at Darren. "Cool, man. Later." He turned around and jogged off occasionally looking over his shoulder.
After several minutes Darren reached up and touched his ear. "All clear, Boss." He smiled and held his hand out to the corpse in the ditch. "Hit kinda hard, didn't you?"
Steve pushed himself up and cradled his ribs. "That fucking blank nailed me, man! You said it wouldn't hurt." He took Darren's hand and stepped up out of the ditch. He swiped at the fake blood at the corner of his mouth and scowled. "This stuff tastes like shit, ya know that?"
Almost half a mile away, Tyler waited until the runner disappeared before emerging from his hiding place. He ran out into the street followed by more members of The Army. He knelt down by Lance who was clutching his chest. "You okay?"
"Asshole. You said in your email it wouldn't hurt." Lance pulled up his shirt and looked at the three deep red circles on his skin. "Guess what? It did."
"Whine later." Tyler pulled the tall thin boy to his feet and handed him a backpack. "There's a stretch suit in there. Get in those bushes and put it on. Hurry." Lance jogged off and Tyler turned to one of the others. "Steve, call team two and tell them heads up."
"Right." Steve turned away and touched the radio in his ear, speaking quietly.
"El Tigre!" Darren's voice came through Tyler's radio." They're pissed the fuck off and right behind us!" Darren was obviously running. "Three minutes, tops."
"Everybody here that?" Tyler called out and looked everyone in the eye. Boys scattered to their vantagepoints and to cover, and Tyler loped back over to his bushes. Lance, now wearing one of the black suits under his clothes, ran up beside Tyler and crouched down.
"So what's the plan, man?"
Tyler pointed down the street. "Three blocks that way is heavy duty Troc country. Darren just saved one of their guys from what looked like an East Boy. Now Darren has just shot somebody on East Boy turf and is headed this way followed by a bunch of guys. We piss 'em off some more, and lead them right into the Trocs. It'll look like an invasion, and the war shifts sides. We're out of it."
"Neat." Lance took a radio from Tyler and put it in his ear, then accepted a pistol with a silencer already mounted on it. "No bang?"
"I want the Trocs to hear them, not us. When I tell everybody to scatter, take your clothes off and stuff 'em in the back pack and make like the dark." Tyler peered up over the bushes as voices became noticeable.
"Got it." Lance slid the gun into the waist of his shorts. "Real devious, man."
"Here they come." Tyler said into the radio. Some of the Army were still on the street and looked up as Darren came running up followed by his group of nine.
"Move!" Darren shouted and waved his hands, turning down the side street as planed. As they passed Tyler's position, he and Lance used the silenced pistols to remove four of the East Boys at the back of the crowd. The guys on the other side got two. They broke cover and ran into the main body from The Army. Tyler crossed himself and everyone pulled out silencers and put them on their pistols.
"Piss 'em off some more." Tyler said into the radio, and his gang began to throw back rocks and bottles, anything they could find, at the East Boys. The corner of the street went by, and they made the last turn towards the run down houses that marked the Troc border.
"Team two, heads up." Tyler said into the radio, and two more East Boys fell from the back of the pack. This apparently made them madder, and they surged forward furiously, not shooting into The Army. Two of Tyler's boys fell from the shots, and Tyler looked over his shoulder. They were almost there. Another series of shots rang out.
"Trocs are awake." Darren said over the radio. "Say when, boss."
Tyler mentally counted to ten and touched his radio. "Scatter!" The Army dispersed in every direction, literally running right between the Trocs as they came out of their houses and yards. Everyone found a dark place and tore their street clothes off, leaving them in black lycra body suits. They only had to slip their sleeves and pant legs down to disappear into the shadows.
Lance followed Tyler around a house and over a fence, hesitating only for a second to use the silenced pistol on a dog. They moved more slowly up between two houses and looked out into the chaos. It was a war zone. They couldn't count the number involved. The Trocs had the upper hand, but the East Boys were more than holding their own.
Tyler smiled slightly and touched his radio. "Clear out." He touched Lance's arm and crouched down, heading up the street from the scene. Sirens could be heard getting closer as The Army slipped away.
The next morning, Rocky let himself into the apartment only to find it full of teenagers sleeping on the couches and on the floor. In Tyler's room there were eight more on the bed and floor, and he hesitated to open the door to his own room. He pushed it open slowly and peered in, and was relieved to find only Tyler asleep on the bed. He had on some sort of workout suit, pushed down to his waist, and was snoring moderately.
Irritated at the breach of his inner sanctum, but reasonably sure there was a reason why everyone had the same clothes on and was passed out in his house, he decided to shower and make coffee before getting Tyler up. It was only 6:30, and he and Carlos were back a day ahead of schedule from a business trip.
Tyler woke up to the sound of the shower and groaned. Either someone was in Rocky's bathroom and was going to get Tyler killed, or Rocky was in his bathroom, and Tyler was already dead. He stretched and rolled to his feet, regretting bringing everyone here last night, but a little over three hours ago it had sounded like a good plan.
He scratched his back and stumbled into the bathroom. The silhouette was obviously Rocky in the shower, and Tyler scrunched his face up. Shit. He slid the body suit off and slid the door to the shower open after locking the door. Rocky turned to look at him and gave him a quirky grin.
"He, stud monkey. Have a little sleep over last night?" He moved deeper into the stream of water and made room for Tyler.
Tyler stepped forward and put his forehead on Rocky's chest. "It's a long story. We started a war last night between the Trocs and another gang."
"No shit?" Rocky chuckled and soaped Tyler's back. "Well you look like shit, but that's nothing new. You can't stay healthy longer than a month or so."
"Mmmmm." Tyler groaned appreciatively and wrapped his arms around Rocky's chest. "I just need sleep, that's all."
Rocky soaped him up, steadying him more than once, and Tyler sat on the small ledge in the corner while he got his hair washed. He was almost asleep again when Rocky turned the water off and got towels. "Stand up, champ." He pulled Tyler to his feet and dried him off. "Now put on some boxers and sleep, dipshit. I'll get some food up here for the gang."
Tyler crawled back on the bed and waved. He was out before he hit the pillow. Rocky shook his head and dressed. He walked out into the living room and found Carlos standing in the kitchen pouring two cups of coffee.
"Check it out." Rocky whispered and jerked his thumb at the sleeping throng on the floor. "The Army at rest." He took a cup from Carlos.
"Laugh all you want." Carlos whispered. "Benjy Peteman just called me. Those little fuckers did it."
"Did what?"
"There's a real war in Henderson, man. Tyler's gang got the East Boys to attack the Trocs. It's glorious."
"And if their fighting each other....." Rocky smiled and raised his eyebrows.
"Then Little Tony ain't sellin' shit, and the Trocs are blowing away the wrong guys." Carlos laughed and held his cup up in salute. "To the General, El Tigre'."
"And the boy scouts." Rocky smirked.
Two weeks later, the news was still reporting massive fighting between rival gangs, and the owners of the businesses that the Rivera's protected heralded The Army as saints. At Darren's last count, over three hundred guys had his tattoo on their shoulder, compliments of the hippie down town. The cartoon tiger holding a pistol with 'Tiger's Army' under it was seen almost everywhere in the city, most of the time no bigger than a baseball, but in one instance fourteen feet wide on the side of a store, commissioned by the owner.
Manny looked up from swimming laps as Tyler wandered out onto the deck and yawned. They met nearly every morning for laps, and most days had breakfast. "Good morning, boy." He slipped to the side and hoisted himself up to sit on the edge. "You look tired. Didn't sleep well?"
"To much time on the streets I guess." Tyler tossed his towel on a chair and walked down the steps into the water. "We have the Trocs on the run, and they have the East Boys tied up in knots. It's going well."
Manny nodded. "I think maybe you're putting to much time on this now." He cocked his head to the side and met Tyler's curious eyes. "You've grown up in the year I've known you. I think this child's game is just a waste of energy for your talents."
"It's for the family, Manny. For you." Tyler leaned back against the side and ran his hands over his hair. "If it's what needs to be done, it needs to be done."
"And I appreciate your loyalty." Manny smiled kindly. "But I think you need to spend some time learning other things now, like the business side of what we do. You are a gentleman to my associates, and my family respects you. You need a rest, El Tigre', and a little education."
"You say what and when, sir. I'm there." Tyler grinned and began a slow paddle to the other side. "Like you didn't know that."
"I do." Manny splashed him. "Men like you and Rocky are a valuable resource, my young friend." He slipped into the water and put his feet against the wall. "Now, let's see if you can beat an old man." They pushed off together, racing furiously for the other end.
Later, as he showered, Tyler reflected on his relationship with Manny. The courtly older Rivera had sort of become a father figure, and Tyler knew what Rocky meant about loyalty being the highest coin of the realm. In the court of King Manny, it was the only coin.
He wrapped his towel around his waste and went into his room to dress. The light was flashing on his phone and he called for messages. Rocky was leaving San Diego in an hour and would be home for dinner, Darren was bringing Lance up at 10:30, and Manny had arranged for a tailor to stop by. Tyler was to order five suits and various shirts and such.
He shook his head and dressed in biking shorts and a tanktop. The last time a tailor had measured him for a suit (which had been worn once); Tyler had stood in his underwear for forty-five minutes. At least this way he didn't need to change.
There was a knock at the door, and he let in the short little balding man that had come last time and his apparently dimwitted assistant. Both grinned constantly, driving Tyler nuts as their fingers and measuring tapes surrounded and prodded him.
The second set of visitors, while the tailor was still there, was Darren and Lance. Using very broad language, they informed him that the leader of the Trocs had been 'in a serious accident', and that the association he frequented (the Trocs), was withdrawing to L.A. Tyler tried to keep a straight face as they told him what happened without telling him what happened because of the tailor and his assistant.
He sent them out to reward The Army (with cash that Manny had supplied) and was hugely relieved when the little bald man was done. He hopped off the chair he was standing on and ordered the five suits, telling the man that the styles were up to him.
Next was an hour going over financial figures that he'd ordered from the office floor after his discussion with Manny that morning. Problem was, they made no damned sense at all. His head began to throb as he tried in vain to understand what he was looking at. During this time there were to phone calls for Rocky and three for him, and when the last call came, he was about to rip the cord out of the wall.
"Hello?" He answered, immediately sorry he'd sounded irritable. It was Manny.
"Is something wrong, young man?" Manny was as cordial as ever, sounding just the right amount of concern.
"I'm sorry, Manny. I didn't mean to snap at you, sir." Tyler sat down on the couch and sighed heavily. "I can't lie to you. I'm having a bitch of a time understanding this finance stuff."
Manny chuckled. "Tyler, I have accountants. That's not your job."
"Sorry, sir."
"I called because I'm going to a charity dinner tomorrow night. I have Rocky and Carlos wound up pretty tight right now. I need you to go as escort."
Tyler sat up straight and felt his heart start pounding. "How many men, Manny?"
"You decide. Call Kenneth for a roster." Manny was calm and collected, with just the slightest hint of humor in his voice. "Put your men in black tie."
"Yes, sir." Tyler nodded and listened as Manny gave him the times and guest list. "Okay, Manny, see you in the morning." He hung up the phone and moved his hand away very slowly. "Oh, shit. I am so screwed."
The gods of organization were with him, and Rocky had helped with the arrangements. The tailor, who had known about the affair, had shown up with a new tuxedo for Tyler at three in the afternoon. It was now six and Tyler was pacing in the living room and smoking.
"The stretch is at the front door, Jesse and Benito will be down stairs at 6:30, and we all have phones." Tyler stopped and smacked his head with his palm. "Fuck! What am I forgetting?"
"You might put your clothes on." Rocky's eyes never left his laptop, but a wide grin spread across his face. "I like you naked, but I doubt the partiers will, or Manny."
Tyler stuck his tongue out. "I didn't put it on because it's so hot. I didn't want to sweat."
"We have A/C, buddy. Take a risk."
Tyler stubbed out the cigarette and stomped into his room. He dressed quickly and walked back into the living room trying to straighten his tie. "Can you help me with this? I feel like I'm hanging myself." He yanked the offending black ribbon out from around his neck in disgust.
Rocky laughed and set the computer aside. "I knew I was useful to something. You better get used to this. Manny loves formal attire." He put the tie back in place and did the knot, adjusting it. "You look great."
Tyler smiled and wrapped his arms around Rocky. "Go get 'em, Tiger."
For all the excitement he'd generated in himself, Tyler found the event to be a crashing bore. Two hours after their arrival, he watched as Manny laughed politely and spoke with this group and that, always the very definition of cordial. Tyler sighed and sipped at the glass of coke one of the dozens of waiters had brought him and scanned the room for the millionth time.
In the center of the huge hall was a dance floor where several couples moved to such light favorites as Moon River and Sentimental Journey. Across the room he caught Benito's eye and acknowledged his nod, all was well. In fact, the excitement of the evening thus far had been one of the waiters having an argument in Spanish with one of the bus boys.
People came and went through the massive columns near the entrance, each carefully observed by the three of them that had come with Manny. Tyler vaguely noticed a man and lady in their mid fifties and looked away. There was a touch at his elbow and he turned around.
"Boring isn't it?" Angelique Salieri said, not meeting his eye and sipping at a glass of soda water. "I hate these things."
Tyler looked at her and felt a surge of fear at first, followed by his jaw dropping open. Angel was very pregnant. Her gown flowed over her full figure and trailed to the floor, and he couldn't take his eyes away from her.
"Not going to say hello?" She asked quietly, no humor in her voice.
"Hi." He swallowed and met her dark eyes and looked back down at her stomach. "Holy shit, Angel. I didn't know."
"How would you?" Bitterness nearly choked her. "I've been a prisoner since you left. Daddy was terrified I'd be kidnapped or something." She locked her eyes to his. "He thought you might try to take the baby away from me."
"It's mine?" Tyler stammered. "Oh, hell, Angel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. That was stupid." He felt the room swim for a second and swallowed hard. "Wow, what a shock."
She chuckled. "Tell me about it. Rumor has it that you don't even like women."
He froze, his face going ashen. "What do you mean?"
"Relax, lover boy. I figured it out while you were at the house." She sipped from her drink and looked at the floor. "You never really enjoyed it, did you?"
After a moment's hesitation, he shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry Angel.
I actually care a lot about you. I just don't feel that way, you know?"
"I do." She smiled and looked up at him. "It's funny, but I believe you, too. You probably care more about me than my father does." Tears welled up in her eyes, and Tyler hesitantly reached out to put his hands on her shoulders. "Ain't that a bitch?" She sniffed. She leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder.
"Hey, don't cry." He patted her back gently. "Please, Angel."
"Tyler, I want you to do me a favor, okay?" She wiped her eye with the back of her finger. "I want you to take the baby. I don't want him to be a monster like daddy."
He blinked a few times before he answered. "Uh, I don't know what to say. That would be like starting World War Three, wouldn't it?"
Little Tony Salieri stood off to the side of the room and watched his daughter with that son of a bitch Rockport boy and ground his teeth. Tonight was the culmination of a huge effort, and the pay backs were about to start. He glanced towards the dance floor and saw Rivera talking in a group and nearly threw up from the bile that surged into his throat.
He looked at his watch and a snide smile crossed his lips. In a few minutes, he would put on the acting job of a life time, and Rivera's empire would fall. No more laughing stock, no more pariah with the other families, and no more second fucking fiddle. Tonight it ended. Forever.
Manny looked up as Tony walked towards him and calmly straightened his stance. He'd been expecting a confrontation, and he was pleased to see Tyler and the others move quietly to reposition themselves.
Salieri stopped and sneered. "Enough is enough." He said in his high squeaky voice. "I didn't accomplish anything by making you an enemy. It's over."
Manny fought the urge to smile or even chuckle. "I didn't start it, Anthony. I'm willing to end it."
Salieri forced himself to smile. "Good." A waiter walked by and he took two glasses of champagne off the service tray and handed one to Manny. "To understanding." He raised the glass and drained it.
"Understanding." Manny took a swallow of the wine and smiled slightly. "Thank you, you made my day."
Salieri chuckled and set his glass down. "Mine too, Manuel. Mine, too." He slapped Rivera on the shoulder and waddled off, desperately trying not to laugh his ass off. He looked down at his watch and smiled broadly. Time.
Darren, Steve, and Gilberto knocked on Lance's door. They'd planned to see a movie, and Lance was supposed to drive. There was a long pause before Darren knocked again. The door creaked open slightly, and he turned to look at the others. The house was dark.
"Lance?" Steve called and pushed the door open wider. There was a shadow form stretched out on the floor, and they had just enough time to recognize who it was and why it was there when the sound of guns erupted behind them.
Rocky tucked his shirt in and picked up the keys to his car as he headed for the door. Carlos had called and invited him to go down stairs and play poker. It had been a hell of a long time since they'd had fuck off time, and Rocky jumped at the chance.
He was just picking up his cell phone when there was a knock at the door. He looked through the peephole and recognized Gary, one of the building maintenance guys. He pulled open the door. "What's going on, Gary? I didn't call......." The sound of a silenced gun going off didn't even make it to the far end of the hall. All that was heard was the muffled thump of a body.
Tyler moved closer to Manny and kept his eyes on Salieri, smelling a pile of bullshit in the surrender speech. He watched as the waiter that delivered the drinks walked up to Little Tony and smiled broadly and nodded his head, then walked away. Little Tony screamed in rage and called for one of his men, then suddenly clutched his chest.
"You dumb bastard!" The waiter said to Salieri and chuckled. "You got what you paid for, and so did three other employers. You and Manny can kiss and make up in hell!" He laughed and turned away from a shocked Salieri and headed out through the kitchen.
It took a second for Little Tony to figure out what he'd meant. The waiter, a two bit job man from New York, had been paid ten thousand dollars to put a small vial of clear fluid into Rivera's drink. A fluid that produced a fatal heart attack.
As clarity dawned on him, he felt a pain shoot down his left arm, and his chest seized. "Help!" He hollered at his man and waved his arms. "Jesus, help!"
Tyler shook his head. "That would be poetic. After all that effort, he had a fucking heat attack." There was a thump behind him, and he spun to find Manny lying on the carpet clutching his chest. "Awe shit!" The other two guards were pelting across the floor towards them and a murmur was running through the crowd.
"Get an ambulance!" Tyler snarled at Benito and then pointed to Jesse. "Take her to the Palace. Get her out of here, now!" He bent down to Manny's face and put his fingers on the old man's throat. "Please, Manny. You have to hang in there. We need you!"
"Uuuungh!" Manny grunted and pulled Tyler's head close to his mouth. "Watch Carlos." He whispered harshly. He grimaced and clutched his chest. As quick as it happened it was over, and Manny's body relaxed
"No!" Tyler shouted and tore the man's shirt open, trying to remember how CPR went. He tried to do the chest compressions, but he couldn't see and his eyes stung. Arms tried to pull him away and he fought them, trying to stay with Manny. "Goddammit, let me go!" He screamed.
Carlos looked at his watch and sighed. He looked at the elevator for the hundredth time and shook his head. The sounds of slot machines permeated the air, and he glanced out into the casino. Finally he got in the elevator and put in his key for the family levels.
"Asshole." He muttered and looked up at the ceiling, bouncing on his toes.
"Late for his own fucking funeral." He muttered. The lift stopped and he stepped out, stopping at the mirror to check his hair. He smiled and turned back to the hall.
"Hey Rock." He knocked on the door and it clicked open. "Jesus, man. We goin' to the poker room or.......Rocky!"