Chapter 14 #2
“That’s bullshit!” Hangman spits. And he’s not wrong. The 311 Boys are entitled white gangbangers with too much time and money. And they’re racist up to their assholes. For them to align with the Tonapah Union, a gang of black kids, is unbelievable.
“It seems so,” says Kozlov. “But that doesn’t make it less true.”
“Why?” Joker asks.
“Reno is small,” Zakhar says. “The Savage Nomads are recruiting new members, which makes us all uneasy. They’re getting greedy. Want more territory. That doesn’t sit well with the other gangs.”
“What about the Flying Dragons?” Joker asks.
Kozlov waves his hand dismissively. “They’re nobody. Useless bunch of boys claiming they’re aligned with the Yakuza. Thinks it gives them credibility, but it’s bullshit. The Yakuza would not blink an eye if we lined the Dragons up against a wall and executed them.”
“Then do it,” Hangman challenges.
I shudder inside. I’ve done some fucked-up shit in my life, but this discussion is over-the-top bloodthirsty.
Kozlov shakes his head. “They’re annoying at most. Not worth our time.”
Hangman looks like he’s won a victory, but Hell’s Jury wouldn’t execute them either. We don’t kill indiscriminately and we have no beef with the Dragons.
Joker moves the conversation along. “Okay. The 311 Boys and Tonapah Union have formed an alliance to take out the other two gangs. Why the fuck should we care?”
Everyone in the room knows the answer. A gang war is not good news for the economy in Reno and the Russians and Hell’s Jury are heavily invested in casinos and other tourist attractions. Plus, the four gangs are like fleas to Hell’s Jury. We pretty much ignore them unless they step out of line.
Sizov says, “Together they’ll be strong enough to wipe-out the Dragons and the Nomads and expand their territory. The bigger they are, the more they’ll think they can challenge us. We’d win, but again, that level of violence will impact tourism for a few years.”
“And where do the Blackbeards come into this?” Joker asks.
The Blackbeards are Hell’s Jury’s rival biker club and while we own Reno, they’re always pushing us.
Kozlov’s lip curls. “Those pussies couldn’t organize a riot. They’re stupid and random. No one would align with them. Not even the gangs. And Crip.” He shakes his at head at the thought of Blackbeard’s president. “He’s a coward.”
No one disagrees with Kozlov’s assessment.
Hangman drains his beer, then plunks the bottle onto the glass coffee table making Kozlov wince. “How bad is it?” Hangman asks.
“Growing,” Zakhar replies. “I think it’s worth grabbing one or two of the gangbangers off the street and having a talk with them. Maybe offing one in front of another. Putting them in their place.”
“Both gangs,” Joker states. “One or two from each.”
“Yes,” Kozlov says. He grins widely. “We’ll target the Tonapah Union. You can have the 311 Boys.”
Not a surprise that we get the white boys and the Russians get the black ones. I wouldn’t say that Hell’s Jury is multicultural, but at the same time, we don’t operate based on race. Anyone give us a problem, we make them go away. Don’t matter where the fuck they came from.
The Brother’s Circle, on the other hand, don’t deal with anyone unless they’re Caucasian and preferably Russian. Except for street grunts - prostitution, selling drugs and other shit.
“Done,” Hangman snaps as he stands. “Check back in a week.”
The meeting’s over as he turns and heads to the lobby. Kozlov follows Hangman. Because I’m closest to the door, I lead the way.
Henri and Brielle are still sitting on the bench facing each other, playing some sort of game with the leaves of a formerly spiky plant, which is forlornly standing in the corner.
Henri looks up and sees my expression of dismay. “What?” she says. “We got bored.”
This draws Kozlov’s attention. “And who are these beauties?”
Henri huffs and rolls her eyes. “Don’t be such a guy.”
“Henri,” I warn.
Then to Kozlov, I say, “None of your fucking business.”
Hangman reinforces this by pointing at Brielle. “My daughter. Anyone touches her they’ll spend the rest of their life without hands or feet.”
Brielle gasps. “Dad!”
“He’s joking,” Henri innocently says. She returns her attention back to Kozlov. “I’m with him.” She jerks her thumb towards me. “But I’m only borrowed for a couple of days, then it’s back to my mom.”
“Henri,” I warn again. She needs to be schooled on how much information to share with strangers.
“You look familiar,” Kozlov says. “Who’s your mother?”
“None of your business,” I say protectively.
Henri ignores me. With a proud tilt to her chin, she says, “Selkie Fleming. You might’ve heard of her. She’s a bounty hunter.”
Kozlov’s smile grows. “I have heard of her. I know her father. Your grandfather.”
Henri furrows her forehead. “How do you know him?”
“We do business.”
The implications make my spine tingle. I wonder if Selkie is aware that her father is in deep with the Brother’s Circle. “What sort of business?” I growl.
Hangman glares at me. “Don’t matter, asshole.” He turns to Koslov and stabs his finger. “What matters is that you stay away from these kids. They don’t mean nothin’ to you.”
Kozlov raises his hands like he’s surrendering. “I’m not interested in children. Trust me.”
“As far as I can throw you,” Hangman grunts. To the rest of us, he says, “Let’s go.”
But Kozlov stops him. “I need two more minutes of your time, Hangman. You owe me a favor. I’m calling it in.”
Hangman looks pained, but he stays where he is. To us, he says, “Get lost. See ya back at the clubhouse if that’s where you’re going.”
As the elevator doors close, King says to Joker, “What the fuck favor does Hangman owe that scumbag?”
Joker looks pissed at Hangman for leaving him out of the loop. “Fuck if I know.” Then he turns to me, but points at Henri. “Teach this kid not to overshare.”
I nod. It’s on the top of my list.