Page 21 of Army
Army turned to the left and saw a skinny woman huddled against the wall. “No. I’m here to buy. Is Lil’ Donnie around?”
The woman pushed herself up and staggered toward him. The sunlight behind him cast a diffused illumination on her as she came closer. Army stepped back, his senses on high alert. The woman smelled like she hadn’t bathed in a long time. Her face and arms were covered with scabs and sores, and her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. She grabbed the hem of her dirty shirt with one hand and lifted it up to reveal two small breasts. “I can give you this”—her other hand slid down between her thighs—“if you give me a hit,” she slurred.
“I told you, I’m here to buy.” Army wanted to throw her a twenty-dollar bill, but he didn’t; he knew that gesture would circulate like wildfire, and he’d be surrounded by junkies begging for their next fix. Keeping her in his peripheral view, he glanced around and wondered where the hell Lil’ Donnie was.
The snitch had told Army he’d be at the building at three p.m. Anger sizzled his nerves. Four years in the army made punctuality second nature for him. Another addict came out of the shadows and stared at him. The man looked to be in his teens and had long, straggly hair. Like the woman, who had now slumped down on the floor, scabs and sores dotted the young man’s face and limbs. He shoved his hands in his jeans.
“I want a nickel bag,” he rasped as he opened his hand.
Army looked at the wadded-up bills and shook his head. “I’m here to buy. Looking for Lil’ Donnie.”
“Over here,” a voice whispered.
Army stepped back cautiously and placed his hand on the gun. From the corner of his eye, he saw a man plastered against the wall.
“How much do you want?” the man asked.
Army turned around and recognized the droopy eyes and lazy smile of the dealer. “I’m looking for a couple of baggies of your best stuff.” Army came in close.
“I got you covered, dude. I don’t keep the good stuff on me. Follow me.” Lil’ Donnie climbed up a flight of stairs and headed to a closed door. He turned the lock and went inside.
Army assessed the area then entered the room and locked the door behind him. “You sure no one can hear us?” he asked in a low voice.
“Yeah. Youse got the money?”
“After you talk.”
Army watched Lil’ Donnie go over to the window and look out. The dealer was one of several snitches the Night Rebels used to gather information. He’d been on the MC’s payroll for the last two years. So far, he’d proved to be reliable and as honest as they could expect from a two-bit dealer.
“The word is that the 39thStreet Gang is setting up a meeting with Satan’s Pistons in a few weeks. They hate the Arizona bastards and they’re planning to rip them off by giving them less quantity and quality. The word is that the biker motherfuckers are paying a fuckload of money for what’s gonna be a shit product. They’ll be diluting the smack with starch and powdered milk.”
Army scrubbed his face with his fist. “The Pistons will never fall for that. Are you sure about your info?”
The man bobbed his head. “Yeah. The 39thdudes are gonna have the top and middle layer of the shipment with the pure stuff, but the rest is gonna be fucked.”
“Then the 39thfuckers aren’t planning to team up with the Pistons.”
“Nope. They see it like the fuckers need them. The 39thStreet Gang don’t need the Pistons except for the easy money they’re handing to them.” Lil’ Donnie laughed.
“Where’s the meeting gonna be at?”
“I don’t know yet. It’ll cost more when I find out.” The snitch glanced out the window.
“You expecting someone?” Army’s voice had an edge to it as he slipped his hand under his T-shirt.
“No. I just don’t like staying here too long. I’m usually in and outta here pretty quick.”
Army stared at the dealer. “You better go then. I’ll go after you’ve left.” He slipped his hand in his pocket and took out a roll of bills. “Let me know about the meeting.”
Lil’ Donnie counted out the bills, shoved them in the inner pocket of his sports jacket, and grinned. “It’s always good doing business with you.” He opened the door and closed it quietly.
Army watched him leave and waited for a while to make sure no one was creeping around. He took out his gun and walked down the stairs. The woman and young man were no longer there, but in their place were three teenagers huddled over lighters, and under the flickering flames, their faces resembled ghoulish masks.
He stepped out into the sunshine and didn’t relax until he settled down on Taylor’s couch. His brother wasn’t home, so Army gave Steel a call to update him on what he’d learned from their snitch.
Right after he hung up from talking to the president, Army’s phone pinged. He glanced at the text.
Taylor:We’ll meet the women @ 7 for dinner.
