Book Five - Part Ten - Ending Evil: Chapter Two

Monday – December 31st

Captain Page’s Office – 9:25 a.m.

After spending over half an hour explaining to Satchell what she agreed to with Freddy, and after her repeated “No’s”, for assistance, he finally relented.

“There are still a couple of things we can do. We can have the airport, the roads, and the Lake blocked off, so he can’t make his escape. Just in case. We can also put cameras all around the cottage.”

That was where Baker’s final no, came into play.

“Satch, somehow, he’ll know and then he won’t show. He’s uncanny about this kind of stuff. I sometimes think his brain has been hard-wired into our system.

“Look, I’ll have my radio, and if you hear from me that morning, then you’ll know I got him. If you don’t, you can bet your ass he’ll have a bullet in him. Who knows, maybe even one of his own knives. But it’s settled, Satch. You can’t talk me out of this.”

“Maybe I can’t, but I sure as hell can pull your badge and gun.”

“Oh, please, that won’t stop me. And if you interfere in this, then he'll kill Stevie, Ed, and Leon, and I somehow manage to survive; I will hate you the rest of my life.”

Satchell looked into her eyes, and he read her intent. He knew then, no matter what he said, it wouldn’t work.

“Jesus, all right. Have it your way, but I refuse to go to your funeral.”

“If I’m dead, it won’t matter to me if you go or not.”

“Look, Janis,” Baker’s eyes took on a Betty Boop look. “Yeah, I said Janis. You are just not a cop to me. You are a good friend, and friends are allowed to be concerned, to worry, and in this case, scared for you.”

“Thanks, Satch. I appreciate that. Be scared for me, and I’ll try to be brave for the both of us.”

“What does Ed think about this? Or Stevie? Or have you even told them yet?”

“Not yet, but I will.”

It was Stevie she would have a tough time telling.

Motel 6 – 10:36 a.m.

Two men checked into Room 231. Between them, they had two small gym bags they each emptied onto their beds. Collectively, they had two clean shirts, two ball caps, and two guns. A Colt semi-automatic and a Remington .38.

Of the two, one man’s objective was to kill a cop. Not just any cop either. He was going to kill the cop who had arrested him years ago and her testimony helped to put him in prison. The other man was along for the ride and back up.

The cop: Baker.

The Projects – North End

1213 Masters and 10th – 2:26 p.m.

The call came in. Gunfire. Possibly more than one shooter. As with all calls, 911 taped the conversation.

“Donnal has a gun and he’s outside shootin’ at two guys in a gray Buick, I think. He’s pissed! They cut him off until he pays them what he owes them. Donnal can be a real bastard when he’s not doin’ his thing. Send the cops before he gets hisself kilt!”

Within three minutes of the initial call, seven units were on the scene and had the Buick surrounded, but Donnal wouldn’t drop his gun when told to do so.

“You tell these grease-monkey fuckers in the car to give me my shit! I get my shit, or I start killin’ them mutha’s!”

Two of the policemen, Larry Lucky, and Mason Sadowski, tried to get behind Donnal to wrestle him to the ground but that didn’t work.

Donnal turned sideways for a split second, saw them, and had his gun pointed right at Lucky’s face.

“Dumb fuckin’ cop!”

He squeezed the trigger.

Click.

Sadowski came from Donnal’s left and tackled him to the ground as the gun fell from Donnal’s grasp.

Regaining his composure, Lucky stepped in and helped Mason cuff Donnal.

There were multiple arrests that afternoon. Four other black men and three Chicano’s were also handcuffed and booked on possession, distribution and sales, and possession of illegal weapons. In the truck of the Buick were three AK-47’s, and no less, a bazooka. Who in their right mind carries a bazooka in the trunk of their car and what were they going to do with it? When they came to trial, the D.A. used that weapon specifically to prosecute them for the charge of terrorism.

A warrant was issued to search Donnal’s apartment and car, and also Venetta Benson’s apartment. She was arrested for being in possession of four grams of crack-cocaine and half an ounce of hashish. All in all, it was a solid arrest, and no one died.

When the day was over, Lucky drove straight home, stripped down, put his clothes in the washer and took a long hot shower. Lucky knew God was watching out for him. But he still pissed his pants.