CHAPTER FIFTEEN

When Jimmy left the office, he jumped in his car and headed straight towards Brownsville. When he got to the house of Deshawn "Sweet B" Baskins he screeched to a halt and jumped out of the car with his pistol in his hand. There was a group of people on the porch as Jimmy approached the house.

"Anyone here by the time I reach the porch will get a bullet in his ass and a throwaway knife planted on him."

Jimmy continued straight for the porch and the group quickly broke up and scattered in various directions. As he took the steps and bounded up on to the porch, he yanked open the screen door, entered the house, and started shouting.

"Baskins, where are you, you piece of shit? Where the fuck are you?"

Jimmy started clearing the rooms on the first floor, checking for people as he went. As he came back out of the living room, Deshawn "Sweet B" Baskins emerged down the hall in the kitchen doorway.

"What the fuck…"

"Hey, motherfucker," Jimmy growled as he approached him, pistol aimed at Sweet B forehead. When he was within arm's reach, he grabbed Sweet B by the throat with one hand and pressed his pistol deep into the now terrified man's forehead with the other.

"Alright, asshole, you want me dead? Well, here I am. No need for your cowardly drive-by's. You really want me dead? Here I am, motherfucker."

"I ain't had nothing to do with that man. Somebody put my name on that shit. I didn't order shit. I don't like you, but I ain't stupid, man."

"Bullshit, motherfucker. Your boys, or someone you paid, shot up my fucking place last night. You almost killed an old lady — a fucking civilian, you piece of shit. She didn't have anything to do with this. I should just waste your ass right here. You know damn well I know how to cover the shit up."

"No, no, don't do that. I'm telling you I had nothing to do with it. If I was going to do something I would have done it long before now. Think about it, man. I didn't do that shit, man."

Staring deep into the drug dealer's eyes, for some reason that Jimmy couldn't explain, he actually believed him. Jimmy's eyes began to glaze over as his mind drifted away. He felt confusion that was bordering on dizziness. He thought he heard his name floating around in the back of his head. Was it his conscience telling him to back off?

Eva approached Jimmy from behind very slowly. When she was close enough, she reached out her hand and put it on his shoulder.

"Jimmy, listen to me," Eva said. "Not like this, Jimmy. Don't do it like this. We can get him another way. It's not worth it like this."

Jimmy lowered his pistol to his side and softly said, "He didn't do it."

"Good, Jimmy," Eva said. "Good. Come with me, partner. We can talk it out, like we always do with a tough case. I need your help, Jimmy. Come back to the car and help me."

Jimmy released Sweet B throat and slowly began to back up.

Eva pointed her pistol at Sweet B and said, "Don't you move, motherfucker. Not an inch. If you blink too fast, I'll shoot you myself."

"I'm not going nowhere . But I didn't do this shit, man. Y'all are getting played just like I am right now. I ain't had nothing…"

"I don't give a fuck," Eva cut him off. "You move off that wall and I will start putting holes in you."

Eva backed down the hallway, guiding Jimmy along, as she kept her pistol aimed at Sweet B.

When they got to the door, Jimmy stumbled out onto the porch and down the steps towards his car. He turned to see Eva standing in the doorway trying to figure out what to do next. He called out to her, "I'm going back to the office."

Jimmy then got behind the wheel, started his car, and drove away.

After watching Jimmy leave, Eva went back down the hall towards Sweet B. As she approached, she asked, "Who else is in the house?"

"Nobody. I swear, nobody else is here."

Eva glanced around, again, and then moved closer to Sweet B. Keeping her pistol between them, she said, "This didn't happen. You already beat a lifetime worth of charges. Consider this your penance. One word from a lawyer, one word in print somewhere, and I will call in every favor owed to me to get rid of your ass. Understand? I don't mean arrested, I mean your body will never be found. You understand what I'm saying?"

"Understand what," Sweet B asked. "Nothing happened, nothing to understand. But know this, I didn't take out a hit on no damn police. I'm not that stupid, detective."

"Just keep things that way," Eva said as she slowly backed down the hallway, again. She holstered her pistol on her way out the door and headed for the car. She hoped like hell Jimmy really was headed back to the office.

Bronx Narcotics Detective James Hodges, unaware that Roman had been involved in a drive-by shooting the previous night, decided to gather some extra intelligence on Sully Preston. To get what he wanted, he connected with some former Special Forces soldiers in the area and requested help. Special Ops guys have a bond that extends beyond their service contracts with the military. That's why Hodges had no problem putting together an intelligence gathering operation in just a matter of hours.

What he came up with was pretty damn interesting. He wanted to take the new information to Ortiz and the rest of the team. But after talking with Gil Martinez about Ortiz, Hodges wasn't sure where the group stood on the issue of off-duty work right now. So, instead, he utilized some help from his network to reach out to Homicide Detective James Burke of Brooklyn North.

The goal was to feed some information to the detective via an official channel about a suspect named Sully Preston. The information was most likely going to be far too attractive for the detective to pass up. He was basically going to have his number one suspect handed to him on a silver platter. Except that all was not what it appeared to be. Things were about to get shaken up all over the NYPD because of the information that was going to be passed to the homicide detective.

When Eva got back to the office, she went and found Jimmy at his desk. The rest of the office was empty today. Eva strolled in, shut the office door behind her, and asked, "How are you feeling, Jimmy?"

"Fucking lost," Jimmy replied. "I believe him. But, if he didn't put the hit out, then who the fuck did? Preston?"

"I was wondering about that myself," Eva said. "But before looking into that, I need to know what is going on with you. You've been shot at before. Hell, you've been in combat. What the hell is so special about Baskins that you would risk everything by publicly going after him like that?"

"I thought it was him," Jimmy said. "I really thought it was him. I was so pissed off that I just couldn't think clearly."

"That much is obvious," Eva said. "But why? You are one of the most agile people I know under stress. You could probably play a game of chess in the middle of a shootout. So, why in the hell are you suddenly starting to act so reckless?"

"Look, calm or not, I never like being shot at. But the thing that has me the most angry is that I managed to put a very sweet woman at risk simply by fixing her sink. The badge is supposed to represent safety for people like her. Instead, it endangered her."

"This isn't about the badge, Jimmy," Eva said. "This is about someone who created a situation in which you had no control over. But it's worse than that because they also caused you to lose control of yourself."

"Correction; it actually is about the badge. They weren't shooting at me because I have Irish blood. And, I really thought he was the one behind this shit. He said the words, he threatened my life. He doesn't get a pass on that. And, what? You think I should apologize for what I did? Doesn't the badge mean anything at all to you?"

"You don't have to tell me a damn thing about what my shield means. You might have been born with yours, but I've had to work my ass off to get here, Jimmy."

"Well, it can't mean too damn much if you think people can just walk all over you like a doormat."

"I know you have had to perform under pressure, had a lot to live up to, whatever. But do you really think that makes you unique? You're good police, Jimmy. But not good enough to tell me what my fucking shield means to me. And certainly not good enough to keep getting away with crap like that stunt you just pulled back there with Baskins."

"That piece of work is not going to go running off to tell anybody what just happened," Jimmy protested.

"Doesn't matter, Jimmy. You're headed down a bad road. You're my partner, you're basically family, and I'll be there for you through almost anything. But if you're determined to self-destruct, please don't take me with you. I've got a kid to feed, and I've worked way too damn hard to get here."

"Alright, alright. I won't scare any more drug dealers."

"Damn it, Jimmy!"

"Fine. I get it. I'm no closer to finding out who the hell shot at me, anyway."

Later that afternoon, Jimmy got a phone call from DEA Special Agent Michael Seibert.

"Detective, I was wondering if we could meet for coffee. I've got some unofficial information that may interest you regarding Mr. Sully Preston."

"What does unofficial mean, agent Seibert?"

"It means I'm not really comfortable talking about it on the phone. And, it means, if you come across it, well, it didn't come from this office. Does that answer your question, detective?"

"Yeah, okay," Jimmy said. "I'm sorry, I should have known that's what you meant. It's been a bad few days for me. Some new information about Preston would certainly be welcome."

"Great," Seibert said. "Look, I'm coming across the river this afternoon for a deposition I have to collect over in Queens. Maybe we can grab a coffee after I get done with that."

"Sure," Jimmy said.

"One small problem," Seibert said. "I just got transferred here to New York. I've been finding my way around okay, but outside of Chelsea I don't know where to find good food, much less good coffee. Do you know any place for decent coffee over there? I'm not talking about local swill, but rather a nice Turkish blend, maybe?"

"Yeah," Jimmy said. "I know a few places."

"Great! I should be coming back through your area around four o'clock. Text me an address?"

As Jimmy hung up the phone, he turned to Eva and updated her on the conversation.

"What do ya think," Jimmy asked. "Is he going to give us something useful, or does he just want to know if we know more than they do?"

"Well, for starters," Eva said. "I think he's a typical fed. The whole coffee snob thing fits perfect with that spit-and-polish crowd. Probably dresses like a government issue boy scout, too."

Jimmy laughed, "Yeah, in a $400 suit and $40 shoes. Well, whatever, I'll see what I can find out. I'll call you afterward if I get anything from him."

Jimmy met up with DEA Special Agent Michael Seibert at an outdoor cafe in downtown Brooklyn. The place that Jimmy chose was well-known for their Turkish coffee. Something that Jimmy had to ask around about, since he wasn't a federal agent with snobby tastes. They met up and made quick introductions. Jimmy was pretty sure that this guy was hatched on some special farm in Iowa, where the government grew Federal agents that all looked and talked exactly the same.

"So, what's this information, agent Seibert?"

"Okay, again, it's not from us or our office. Agreed?"

"Yeah, I know how this works. I've got a few ways I can wash it if I need to."

"Okay, detective. We've had one of Preston's associates under surveillance for a little while. It's the guy who supplies him with his cocaine from across the Mexican border. We're running a sting on him, but we're waiting to find out more about his contacts on the other side of the border before we grab him."

"Why wait," Jimmy asked. "I mean, I don't know anything about how things work on a grand scale. But it seems that arresting this guy would already be pretty big."

"It will be. But we have no idea who is going to replace him — and somebody will replace him the very day he is arrested. So, getting him will be big, but if we can trace the entire supply back to a cartel source, then we'll be able to start mapping out their whole network and really begin to frustrate their efforts to bring in narcotics anywhere in the country."

"Jesus," Jimmy said. "You guys really are big picture about this stuff. We're usually happy if we can just clean out a block for a week or two."

"Well, we've all got our roles," Seibert said, a little too smugly for Jimmy's taste.

"Okay, so what does this have to do with Preston?"

"I understand he's the pivot point in an investigation that your task force is handling. Well, we have information that indicates he may be part of a team of people that are eliminating local drug dealers in an effort to create space for him to take over local sales all around the city."

"Yeah," Jimmy said. "He's our main target for multiple homicides. We figure him for trying to take over. But we already know all of that."

"Well, what you probably don't know is that he will be meeting with his crew in a few days to finalize their plans. They rarely meet in person unless they are taking some action together. So, that means they most likely have something big coming up."

"Like what," Jimmy asked.

"We don't know. And it's not our purview. We're passing this on as a courtesy to you guys."

"A courtesy, eh? And what's in it for you guys? My bet is that you're not trading that information for coffee."

"No. Actually, we do have a secondary motive. If Preston is taken off of the street, he cannot be replaced so quickly. Sales at his level requires local knowledge of the area and current relationships with mid-level dealers. If Preston gets taken down, then we will have more time to work on our guy because everything on the entire East coast will slow down."

"Preston is that important," Jimmy asked, completely astonished.

"Oh, hell no, not him personally. But his position is. If his position is compromised, then they have to assume that their entire distribution operation is also compromised. That means a major pause in distribution while they reconfigure and reorganize."

"So, you give us Preston, and everyone wins but the bad guys?"

"Essentially, yes," Seibert said.

"Okay," Jimmy said. "So, what information do you have on their meeting?"