Hollywood Tough

Chapter 32

Shane and the president of IATSE switched cars for the ride back from Devil's Gate Dam. Lee Postil looked terrified as he squeezed in with the American buffaloes, while Shane walked down the rutted dirt road with Dennis Valentine. He had another Rolls-Royce convertible parked on a slab of poured concrete by the spill-gates. This one was midnight blue with a tan interior.

"I see you got a new parade float," Shane observed.

"I lease these things. Can't drive a car full of bullet holes."

They got into the Corniche convertible and Shane inhaled the rich smell of English leather. Dennis drove out of the arroyo and found his way back onto the westbound 210.

"What's the story with Lee Postil?" Shane finally asked. "He was so scared, I thought he was about to jump."

"I used to think Postil was a democratic visionary, but it turned out he was just another slimeball extortionist. Guy takes our help to get elected-our money, our muscle-then after he wins the I. A. presidency, he starts halfsteppin'. All of a sudden, it's like, 'Who's Dennis Valentine?' I had to give him a little flashlight therapy to put him back in line."

Shane touched the cell phone on his belt to make sure it was still warm and transmitting.

"You hear all that shit about film and TV exporting American culture to the world?" Dennis continued, shaking his head in disbelief. "He actually told me that when I was trying to line him up a year ago. That shitbird thinks Hunter is changing the course of democracy in China. I hear stuff like that, I know I'm gonna be huge out here, 'cause nobody is thinking straight."

"Probably all the carbs we're getting."

"You laugh, but that ain't far off."

By the time Dennis pulled up in front of North Chalon Road, it was already one A. M. He turned off the engine, then fixed Shane with a businesslike stare.

"Now that I'm a full-fledged partner and getting my percentage against cost, I think we need to rein in this out-ofcontrol director you hired."

"And how do you think we can do that without scaring off Rajindi Singh and Michael Fallon?"

"I was thinkin' maybe we pull him out of the office some night, find a quiet spot, give him a Louisville adjustment."

"You wanna beat Paul Lubick with a bat?"

Valentine shrugged. "Listen, Dennis, I admit he's a jerk, but if you beat him up, you better either kill him or take off running, 'cause he thinks he's invincible and he'll go right to the cops."

"Then how do we fireproof this asshole?" Dennis asked. "You see the way he's spending money and I can't even get a copy of the script!"

"Let me and Nicky handle it."

"Nicky? That little liar can't handle shit."

"He's good with Hollywood types. Let us deal with it." Dennis frowned but finally nodded.

Shane got out of the car, walked around the back, then stopped at the driver's side and looked in at Valentine. "Tell Silvio I want my piece back. Tell him to put it in the mail slot over there. If it's not here in the morning, I'm gonna have Alexa write some paper on him."

"Jesus, calm down. I'll take care of it." Champagne Dennis Valentine started the Rolls. "Don't forget, we're flying to Jersey, eight A. M. on Saturday. Plane is leaving out of Burbank, hangar twenty-six. Don't be late."

Shane watched as the midnight-blue convertible drove up the street, then turned right at the end of the block.

Once Shane walked inside some sixth sense told him he wasn't alone. Somebody was in the house. Shane was unarmed, so he froze in the entry. Then he heard Chooch's voice.

"Dad, it's me."

Relief flooded through him. He hurried into the living room and found Chooch sitting in the beige club chair holding Franco on his lap. The cat jumped down as Chooch stood. Then Shane reached out and gave his son a hug.

"My God, I've been so worried."

"Dad, I need your help."

"Where were you? Why didn't you call?"

"I left messages-"

"That's a buncha bullshit." Anger swept in and took the place of fear. "I couldn't talk to a message machine and you knew it."

"Dad, I'm in trouble. Please, I came here to get help, not a lecture."

Shane stood in the room a few feet from Chooch, trying to push two days' worth of tension and emotion out of the way. "Okay. Okay, sure. Whatta you need?" he finally said, but his voice was trembling.

"Dad, I never told you about my girlfriend-"

"Wait a minute, not yet." Shane's eyes flicked toward the bug hidden in the lamp. "Follow me, I wanna show you something first." He turned and walked out of the house onto the pool deck.

Chooch followed him as Franco trailed behind, slipping out through the sliding glass door just before Chooch closed it.

Shane led the way around the pool. There were still a few ribbons and scraps of wrapping paper on the glass-topped table from Nora's shower. Shane and Chooch sat across from one another at the table.

"Why are we out here?" Chooch asked.

"The house is bugged. It's a long story. A lot's happened since you left. Go on…"

"Dad, I have a girlfriend. I met her when I was fourteen, on the streets."

"I know all about her, son. Delfina Delgado. Amac's second cousin." Chooch looked surprised. "After you left, I got in touch with American. He told me she was your jiana, and that she'd disappeared. He told me he didn't think she'd been kidnapped."

"Dad, he's lying. She was kidnapped by the black gangs, and he knows it. While he's been trying to arrange to buy her back, I think I found out where she is, but I can't go to Amac, because he'll try and take her by force. That's why I came to you."

"Where is she?"

"Before I tell you, I need your promise that you won't call LAPD and tell them. You can't even tell Mom."

"Both things I'm not going to agree to in the blind." "Dad, this is really important to me. I love her. I love her as much as you love Mom."

"Then you're very lucky, but I can't make promises until I know what I'm agreeing to."

Chooch looked troubled, then spread his hands in some kind of gesture of defeat. "Can you at least promise me you'll listen to all my arguments?"

"I can do that."

They sat looking at each other across a no-man's-land of clear glass and torn wrapping paper. Finally Shane leaned forward in his chair. "Go on," he said. "Let's hear what you've got."

"Delfina was kidnapped by Crip gangsters. Guys from Kevin Cordell's set. Hardcore Hayes is in charge now but they're hooked up with the Compton Bloods on some huge drug deal."

"Where is she?"

"I think they're holding her out at Stone's old house in Westlake. It's a mansion on more than six acres. Three years ago Stone moved out of South Central into a millionaire's neighborhood. After the cops finished their murder investigation there, they padlocked the gate to his mansion. The place is supposed to be empty, but there's a guesthouse down by the artificial lake, and I think some G's slipped back in there with her. I saw one of their work cars parked nearby."

"And…?"

"And I think I know how to rescue her, but I can't do it alone. I need your help."

Shane sat still for a long time, thinking, before finally shaking his head.

"Dad…"

"Whatta you take me for, huh?" Shane asked. "I'm your father. I have a responsibility to your dead mother, Sandy, and to your stepmother, Alexa. I'm supposed to look out for you. So what'd you have in mind here? We both strap up and go in shooting?"

"Dad, come on…"

"No, you come on; this isn't a TV show. I could end up getting you killed." Shane paused, then continued. "We call Alexa right now. We fill her in, then CRASH will set up a hostage retrieval."

"You promised…"

"The hell I did!"

"You promised to hear me out. You haven't even tried. You heard what you wanted, then made a cop decision without even listening to my reasons."

"Okay, go ahead. Let's hear 'em."

Chooch took a deep breath to calm himself down, then he stood and started pacing around on the other side of the glass-topped table. "According to American, when I talked to him earlier, he and the black gangs are setting up a transfer to trade Delfina, in return for one hundred thousand in cash. But I think they don't really care about Amac's money, and have no intention of giving her back. It's probably just a way to draw Amac into an ambush. She'll die and Amac will die with her. I can't let that happen."

Chooch's voice was hard with anger. Shane was frightened for his son, but also extremely proud. He knew in that moment that Chooch had become a man.

"That's all the more reason to go to Alexa," Shane said. "Listen to me! Just please listen." Chooch was almost shouting.

"Don't yell at me."

"If we tell Mom, you know exactly what she's gonna do. She's gonna take it straight to the Gang Squad."

"Right. Because that's the correct thing to do."

"Dad, it's a horrible idea. To begin with, CRASH is trying to shut this war down. There's lots of glass-house pressure on them, plus they're like frickin' commandos. They're only gonna want to take out the Crip and Blood shot-callers, and get Amac, too. That'll be their top priority. Delfina is just bait to them. It'll end up as some kind of SWAT operation with tear gas and street sweepers. Delfina will be expendable."

"So how would you play it?" Shane asked.

"You and me. We slip in there while they're asleep. Pull a raid and get her the hell out of there."

"You and me. Butch and Sundance."

"Mom is by the book. That's why she's heading DSG. But you're more… creative."

"Creative… I see." Shane wasn't sure how to take that.

"I went out to Westlake and drove around Stone's property. There's a man-made lake with a runoff that goes under the fence to a culvert. We could get in through the runoff and-"

"Hold it. Back up a minute, okay?" Chooch stopped pacing and waited. "Where did you get the information that she's being held in Stone's Westlake estate?"

"What's it matter?"

"Because the source of that information could sell you out. You could be walking into something."

"Nobody cares about me."

"Wise up, Chooch! Your mom is head of DSG. You'd be a great trading card."

"I don't-" Then Chooch stopped. He obviously hadn't thought of that. "Okay, so…"

"So, who gave you the intel?"

"I overheard it. I was hanging out in one of Stone's strip clubs down in South Central. The guy I overheard talking was a crazy-looking light-skinned brother with a Senegalese twist. This braid was hangin' halfway down his back. He was bragging about how he and some other Crips were holding American Macado's cousin, were gonna use her to get Amac. I was one table over, listening. When he left, I followed him all the way to the mansion out in Westlake. I asked around and found out the place was owned by Kevin Cordell."

"Jeez, you coulda gotten killed." Chooch shrugged. "But it fits. Amac told me some light-skinned brother with a braid did the hit on Stone."

"He's one of Hardcore's tights. That makes this all the more righteous."

"I don't trust it. Maybe they knew you were listening." "These guys aren't that clever."

But Shane was frowning.

"Dad, you and I could do this. If Delfina's there in the guesthouse being held by a coupla Crips, we could crawl through that spillway, sneak up on the place, then break in and grab her."

"Look, I'm not gonna do this."

"Dad, I'm gonna rescue her with or without you." "Wanna bet?" Shane looked up at Chooch, who, at six-three, two-twenty, would be damn hard to stop. It was a classic parental dilemma. In that moment he realized he could probably no longer physically control his son. "Dad, this is exactly what you'd do if you were me." "No, it-"

"Be fair," Chooch interrupted. "If this was Mom being held, would you go to the cops? Would you risk SWAT and tear gas and all the rest of it? Or would you try and sneak in there and pull her out?"

"That's different, and you know it. I'm an adult and an experienced police officer."

"This isn't about being a cop. It's about being a man. You always tell me that a man has to live with the consequences of his actions. Well, I can't live with the consequences of inaction. You told me on my birthday last year that from now on, you're going to treat me as an equal. But I guess that's just when nothing's at stake. Now that someone I really care about is in danger, you're telling me I'm a kid, that I don't really have a vote."

Shane sat still for a long minute. Dammit, he hated to be quoted against himself! But his son was right about one thing: Shane would never call SWAT if it was Alexa. He wouldn't trust an adrenaline squad of twenty-year-olds to go in, guns blazing, and hope they could pull her out alive.

"Dad, Amac is gonna try and set up the trade. If we pull her out tonight, before he meets with the Crips, then you'll have saved his life-paid him back for what he did for us three years ago."

Shane did owe Amac for his son's future, but still, how could he take part in a three A. M. raid on Stone's mansion using his seventeen-year-old son as backup?! If they survived, Alexa would kill him. If it went wrong, he would never be able to explain it.

"Dad, I came to you because you're my best friend, and the only person on earth I would trust with my life and Delfina's. You've got to do this with me."