“Most of the changes you’ll see are in your favor,” Janine said, stepping out of Ikher’s house. “Your prices are going up, but that’s only because you’ve been underselling the whole time.”

They descended his steps after Ikher locked the door. “If anyone complains about the price, just tell them the previous establishment recruited you and now you have union dues.”

“There’s a union?” Ikher asked, brows furrowed as he followed her.

“What?” Janine asked, her head snapping to him. “No, there’s no union. But you won’t have to worry about the cops now. We have several on payroll, so they look the other way.”

Ikher faced her as they got into Roy’s beat up truck. “Those guys last night, were they working for you?”.

Janine’s shoulders sagged as she put the key in. She stared at the steering wheel for a moment before turning to him. “Yeah. Them fucking your place up wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m sorry about that.”

“You could have just told me to stop selling. I would have,” he said before looking out the front windshield at his house.

Janine followed his gaze to the empty curtain rod hanging diagonally across his living room window.

“That was my parents’ furniture,” Ikher said, his voice cracking. “My dad worked hard to make the house nice.” He sucked in a ragged breath and looked out the side window.

Janine sighed, letting her hands drop to her lap. “I know. I’m sorry, Ikher. I really am. This is my fault. I should have figured out that you were selling sooner. But by the time I realized, it was above me. I blunted it as much as I could, I promise.”

Ikher just nodded, looking at his knees. Janine stared at him for a moment, then exhaled and started the truck. She pulled out of their neighborhood and headed toward then joined The Six heading east. They traveled for several minutes before Ikher spoke.

“When we first met, you said you were on disability. Was that a lie, too?”

Janine glanced at him, but he turned and looked out the side window. Janine exhaled again. She deserved that.

“Yeah, it was,” she said. “I can’t tell people I’m middle management in a rising criminal empire. So, I needed something that made sense if they saw me out in the middle of the day.”

After a moment Ikher asked, “You take orders?”

Janine nodded. “We all work for someone.”

“But you said you were in charge.”

“Just parts of the suburbs and Newfield. We all report to the guy at the top of the pyramid.”

“Are we going to meet him?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You should never have to meet him.”

Her boss was an odd, dangerous person and Ikher was very much not. Janine had already done enough harm, so she was determined to keep the two of them apart. Ikher nodded before laying his head against the side window. Janine took another deep breath and decided to give him space. Poor guy’d been through a lot since yesterday, all of it her fault.

----------------------------------------

Green and grey faded to green and brown as they reached the foothills. When The Six started its climb into the Medesco mountains, they exited the interstate onto a beat up old road. They passed through an abandoned old town with empty graffiti-tagged shops and gas stations with broken windows and missing signs.

After leaving the ghost town, they drove for several miles before Janine turned onto a dirt road. They followed this even less maintained road into the hills until the high cliffs of the Medescos loomed above them. Janine stopped at the bottom of what looked to be a dirt and rock switchback that wound its way up the side of the mountain.

She rolled her window down, then laid on the horn for several seconds. After a moment, another car horn sounded, and they started up the path.

“Where are we going?” Ikher asked, looking out his window at the growing sheer drop outside his window.

“We have large plots of land we rotate through for growing. The ones not in use are meeting spots. Hard to get to and far away from prying eyes.”

The truck bounced and rocked over the uneven, and at times, very narrow, path. Half way up, Ikher realized he was holding his breath and squeezing the door handle as he stared down the sheer rocky drop outside the window. Fifteen tense minutes later, they rolled to the top of the switchback, which leveled out into a grassy plateau full of vehicles. Janine parked in an open spot and got out.

Ikher exited the truck to occasional pops and booms echoing across the plateau. They sounded almost like fireworks, but deeper.

“Is that... guns?” he asked, looking around.

“Yeah,” Janine said, waving him to follow. “Big open spaces are useful as a gun range.”

She waved to a guy sitting in a large SUV. He gave her a thumbs up, then reclined his seat and put his arm over his eyes. Approaching the rusty gate that prevented further entry, two posters grabbed Janine’s attention.

The first was a cartoonish, yet accurate drawing of Janine pointing at the viewer with the tagline ‘I want YOU to sell more drugs!’. Her cartoon version wore a purple and green sport coat with a weed leaf on the chest pocket and a giant lit joint for a hat. The companion poster, in a similar style, was of a tan-skinned man with a close cropped black hair, beard, and mustache in a pinstripe suit and bullets for teeth.

Her curled lip, narrowed eyes, and the sharp exhale from her nose told Ikher he shouldn’t ask. Janine snatched both posters, folded them, and started down the dirt road through the tall grass. Following, he heard music ahead and when they rounded a corner, Ikher saw a large mowed area with picnic tables set up.

Each table had something different. Some had people eating, others playing dominos or cards. Two tables on the far side of the field had a plethora of guns and faced a dirt hill with targets stuck in the ground. The music came from a large truck with a barbecue cooker hitched to the bed. When people noticed Janine, they waved or called out. She would wave or incline her head, but didn’t stop.

“I’m gonna introduce you to your bagmen,” she said to him over her shoulder as they walked toward the tables with the guns. “When they’re not being idiots, they’re good at what they do.”

“Bagmen?”

“Yeah, think of them as...” Janine said, waving her hands as she thought. “Delivery guys. You won’t be picking up product anymore. They’ll bring it to you. They’ll also take whatever cash you have and cut you in. Call them for anything you need, and they’ll take care of it.”

At the table, a shorter, heavyset, brown-skinned man with a round shaved head leaned against the table with his arms crossed. Grey was creeping into his connected mustache and goatee, and diamonds sparked from both ears. He wore a striped, untucked bowling shirt and loose khaki pants with dusty, but expensive looking trainers. One eyebrow arched and a half smile curled on his face as he listened to a younger, tan-skinned man talk.

The younger man, dressed in a basketball jersey, shorts, and hitop sneakers, punctuated his words with his hands and arms. Aside from eyebrows, he had zero facial hair but tended waves rolled through his close cropped black hair. A slim gold chain bounced around his neck as he explained something to the stockier man.

A taller, brunette, pony-tailed man sat on the table, wiping down a larger gun with a curved magazine as he listened to the younger man’s antics. The double pistol harness he wore offset his casual jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers.

He held up his hand, halting the younger man’s story, and said something to the stockier guy, which made him laugh and the younger man’s face went sour.

“What are y’all saying?” the baby-faced younger man asked as Janine and Ikher got close.

“You been bragging about being mister ‘one shot, one kill’. So let’s see it, Simo Häyhä,” the pony-tailed guy chuckled.

“The fuck you call me?!” Babyface said, standing a little straighter.

“Relax,” the stocky man chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. “He’s giving you respect, Vasily Zaytsev.”

“Yeah, yeah, do it up big Lyudmila Pavlichenko,” Ponytail said, holding out a pistol.

“Man, what the fuck language is that?”

“Guess they don’t teach history anymore,” Stocky sighed with a head shake. “Okay, show us what you can do, Legolas.”

“Yeah, split that arrow, Robin Hood,” Ponytail said with a grin.

“Man, whatever!” Babyface said, snatching the pistol from Ponytail.

He pointed it down range, closing one eye, and pulled the trigger. A puff of dirt rose a couple of inches left of the target.

Ponytail laughed as he loaded a magazine. “Ooooh, you might wanna use both eyes, Katniss.”

“And both hands, Princess Merida,” Stocky said.

“Man, what? Why am I girls now?”

“Larry, if you don’t stop whining, they’re gonna keep messing with you,” Janine said, making Babyface jump and turn. Seeing Janine, his eyes got huge. He turned, pulled the pistol up, and fired six more shots with only one striking a target.

“The aim is off,” Larry said, tossing the pistol onto the table.

Ponytail let out a hearty laugh, grabbed the pistol, and dropped the empty magazine out. “Let’s see about that,” he said, sliding the fresh magazine in and releasing the slide. He turned, aimed, and fired. Each shot had a corresponding metal clang as it knocked the target down.

“Yeah,” Ponytail said to Larry as he dropped the pistol magazine onto the table. “Them sights is fucked.”

“Man whatever! Fuckin’ redneck ass white boys.”

Ponytail grinned. “Oooh, he’s mad.”

“Yeah, he is,” Stocky said with a laugh.

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“Don’t let em get to you,” Janine said with a pat on Larry’s shoulder before she turned to Ikher. “Ikher. This is Vernard and Chuck,” she said, pointing to the shorter, heavier man and then to the taller long-haired one. “You’ll be seeing a lot of them. This is Larry,” she said to Ikher before turning to them and holding her hand to Ikher. “Boys, this is Ikher. He’s new talent out of Oak Grove.”

“Sup mane,” Chuck said, tilting his head up, then pulled the slide on the pistol back and looked down the barrel.

“Youngblood,” Vernard said, giving Ikher a pound.

“What up?” Larry said with a nod.

“You wanna give something a go?” Chuck asked Ikher, releasing the slide on the pistol and flipping it over, offering it to him.

Ikher held his hands up and took a half step back. “Oh, no thanks. Guns aren’t really my thing.”

“S’all good,” Chuck said, setting the pistol down and picking up a shotgun.

“Uh uh,” Janine said, shaking her head. “Stop fucking around. We’ve got business.”

“But Momma, aren’t we supposed to be making sure all these work?” Vernard asked sweetly, gesturing toward the plethora of firearms on the table.

“Yeah, a healthy arsenal is a happy, well functioning arsenal,” Chuck said, echoing Vernard’s sweetness.

Janine’s eyes narrowed, and she exhaled, pointing at him. “Not in the mood for ya’ll today.”

Vernard held his hands up as Chuck hopped off the table. They all followed Janine and Ikher back to the central cluster of tables.

“All right!” Janine bellowed, waving everyone to the tables. “Get over here!”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and shuffled over, except for the guy working the grill. He walked to the truck and turned the music down before returning to the food. Janine pointed Ikher toward the group and he walked over, sitting on the end of a table.

“Hey Mama, where’s Mister Aguilar and Roger at?” someone asked to Ikher’s left.

“Rafi’s meeting with the boss today. Roger’s probably in Cambodia by now eating sushi off a hooker’s ass,” she said. Chuck stood and raised his hand, draining the mirth from Janine’s face. “What?”

“Mama, sushi’s from Japan,” Chuck said matter-of-factly.

The muscles in her jaw tensed as she clenched and closed her eyes. “I know where sushi comes from, Chuck,” she breathed through clenched teeth. She opened her eyes and pointed at him, then Vernard. “I told ya’ll. Not today.”

“What’d I do?!” Vernard asked as he stood.

She stared him, then Chuck back into their seats before pointing at them again as a warning. Taking a deep breath, Janine straightened her jacket before looking over the assembled group.

“All right, I’ve got two things!” she yelled. “One! We got new sales in Oak Grove. Ikher stand up,” she said, pointing to him. “This is Ikher! He’s good people. He’s got the center of the Grove by the park.”

The people closest to him slapped him five or gave him a pound.

“Second!” Janine yelled, pulling the two drawings out of her back pocket and held them up. “Who the fuck did this?!?”

Several people snickered or choked trying not to laugh.

“Oh, this is funny?!?” Janine balled up the pictures in her fist. “I don’t see y’alls face on posters?! It’s funny to broadcast that we do illegal shit with me and Rafi on posters?!?”

The snickers and laughs died off as everyone shrunk in their seats, trying not to look at her.

“Well? Who did it?” she said, glaring at the withering crowd.

There were some nervous glances before Chuck and Vernard, both with nervous grins, raised their hands.

“Oooh, how did I know?” Janine growled. “Come here, you two. Come. Here,” she demanded through clenched teeth, pointing at the ground in front of her, hand shaking.

They both crept over and she began dressing them down in hushed tones, jabbing each of them in the chest or putting her finger on their nose. Everyone around Ikher found something else to look at while this was happening.

When Vernard and Chuck were both rigid and had nodded several times, Janine exhaled and straightened her jacket again. She pointed back to the group and handed Vernard something he pocketed.

“That’s it. Y’all have fun,” she said, turning to the group and waving everyone off.

Ikher watched everyone wander back to their previous activities. He looked for Vernard and Chuck but couldn’t make them out in the crowd. He turned to find Janine only to see her walking toward him plate of food: sweet smelling barbecued meats, some coleslaw, and a small block of cornbread.

“You haven’t eaten since yesterday,” she said, setting it in front of him and sitting on the other side of the table.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” he said, his stomach growling its thanks as well.

She watched him eat for a second before she spoke. “There’s something I need to take care of,” she said, her eyes soft as she watched him. “V and Chuck’ll bring you back when you’re ready. Just let them know, okay?”

“Okay,” Ikher said, mouth full, before digging back into his plate.

Janine looked at him for a moment before she nodded, got up, and squeezed his shoulder as she walked away.

When he finished, Ikher found a bottle of water in a cooler and sat as he watched the assembled group. Everyone laughed and joked like they were at a family reunion. If it weren’t for the guns, he never would have assumed this was a drug gang get together. A heavy hand on his shoulder shocked him out of his thoughts and made him jump.

“Whoa,” Vernard said, holding his hands up. “Sorry, I called out, but you didn’t hear me.”

“Oh, sorry,” Ikher said with a deep breath.

Chuck smiled. “Momma said we’re running you home. Where abouts in the Grove are you?”

“Do you know Abraham park?”

“Yup.”

“I’m on the opposite side from the main lot.”

“Okay, okay, that’ll do,” Chuck said with a nod. “You good or you wanna hang out?”

“Umm, I guess I should get home and clean up,” Ikher sighed, remembering his destroyed home.

Vernard and Chuck shared a glance before Vernard slapped his heavy hand on Ikher’s shoulder again. “Aight, youngblood. Let’s hit it.”

----------------------------------------

Janine parked a couple of blocks away and walked to the Oak Grove police precinct. She passed the front entrance and went around the building to the side. Her timing was perfect. She spotted the two she wanted, chatting. Aaron, the larger of the two, saw her coming and elbowed his smaller partner.

She smiled and waved. “Gentleman! A word.”

“Mama J,” Aaron said when she reached them.

“How’d it go last night?” Janine asked, cocking her head to the side.

Aaron glanced at the precinct building over his shoulder, then nodded away from it. “Let’s talk by my truck,” he said, pushing off the smaller sedan.

When the precinct was out of sight around the corner, Aaron leaned against a huge dual rear wheel truck.

“Easy run down,” he said. “He gave himself up like you said. We bagged his stuff and brought him back. Trist caged him for the night and Rick cut him loose this morning.”

Janine’s smile faded. “So, whose idea was it to fuck his place up?”

Aaron sighed and looked down at his smaller partner; Janine turned her attention to the baby-faced Tristan, who glanced back and forth between them when he realized he was in the spotlight.

He shrugged. “What? I was being thorough.”

Janine’s eyes narrowed, and she let out a long breath. “What part of ‘go easy on him’ didn’t you get?”

“We didn’t hurt him.”

Janine pinched her nose between her eyes. After a moment, she glared down at him.

“I told you, I was bringing him on and to go easy. There was no need to tear up his place.”

Tristan let out a tired sigh. “If we’re sticking my neck out to do these favors, I want as much as we can get,” he said, holding his hands out.

“You’re allowed any drugs and money that you find. Is that not enough?”

“When it’s a decent haul, yeah,” Tristan said. “But this guy didn’t have shit.”

“Almost five grand and two pounds of weed... ain’t shit?” Janine asked, shaking her head.

“Not when we have to split it three ways, no. That’s not shit.”

Janine sighed and let her head fall back to look at the sky as she took a deep breath. “You’re taken care of aside from your ‘finders bonus’.”

“Yeah. Except, it’s not enough. We’re doing the dirty work here, while you sit back and watch,” Tristan said.

Her gaze snapped back to him. “What did you say?”

“Trist,” Aaron said, then checked to make sure no one was around.

“No,” Tristan said to Aaron. He looked back at Janine. “What do you get out of this, J? What’s your cut? We never get to see that. The fuck do you even do aside from ask for our help?”

Janine stalked toward him, her lips curling. “You don’t get to question me.” Tristan slid back a step, but Janine followed. “You were told how it is. You follow orders and you’re taken care of. But you’re never happy. I’ve put up with your shit since Aaron brought you on, but I’m getting sick of it. This doesn’t work unless we’re all on the same page and you always seem to be a page behind or in whole ‘nother book.”

Janine stopped in front of him so she could loom her several inch height difference over him.

“Is this a case of little man syndrome? You got picked on for being tiny and now you’re a cop and you think that makes you a big, bad man?” Janine asked, leaning down into his face. “It doesn’t,” Janine said, pushing her finger into his chest. “You’re still a little guy. A little guy who needs to follow his fucking orders.”

Tristan’s eyes narrowed as he took a step back and then another. Janine followed until Tristan backed into Aaron’s truck. His breath came quickly out of his nose and his hand shot up, gripping the pistol at his belt. Janine, still looming over him, looked at his hand on the gun and smiled.

“Go ahead… little guy. Pull that. Shoot me,” Janine said, holding her hands out.

“Trist, relax,” Aaron said, his shoulders dropping as he pulled his jacket back, clearing access to his gun.

Janine waved a hand at Aaron while keeping her eyes locked with Tristan. She whispered, “Naw, Tristan. Pop off. See what happens.”

“Trist,” Aaron said, his hand sliding up to the pistol in its holster. “You gotta relax, man. We’ve got a good thing here. Don’t fuck it up.”

Tristan glanced at Aaron and did a double take when he realized Aaron was ready to draw on him, and not Janine. A moment later, his shoulders dropped and his hand released his pistol. Janine stood over him for a few seconds longer before she leaned down, putting her face in his.

“You work for us. You do what we tell you and only what we tell you. Understand?”

Tristan looked everywhere but at her and nodded. “Yeah.”

Janine exhaled and leaned back. She shared a glance with Aaron, then turned and started the walk back to Roy’s truck.

___________________________

On the ride back, Chuck drove the decrepit old luxury sedan, while Vernard chatted Ikher up. When they reached the suburbs, Chuck looked back over his shoulder.

“E, we’ve gotta make a quick stop. You good with that?” he asked as he pulled into an industrial park.

“Ummm, yeah, sure,” Ikher shrugged. “Is this a business thing?”

Vernard laughed. “Nah, this is some personal business.”

Chuck parked at a furniture store and they both got out.

“Ikher, come on, mane,” Chuck called, beckoning him through the window.

Ikher got out and looked around. “What are we doing here?”

Chuck smiled. “Mamma told us what them pigs did to your house. So we’re getting you new furniture.”

“What?! No, you don’t have to do that,” Ikher said, shaking his head.

They looked at each other, then smiled at him. Vernard came over and put his hand on Ikher’s shoulder.

“Yeah, we do. Momma says your family. We take care of family.”

“Oh. Umm... okay, I guess. But I’ll pay you guys back,” he said, blinking.

They both laughed.

“Nah, mane, Momma’s covering it,” Chuck said and waved for him to follow.

Inside the store, a salesperson pounced on them. “Hi, I’m Tammy. What brings you in today?”

“Hi, Tammy, I’m afraid I have a bit of an embarrassing situation, and need to speak to the manager,” Vernard whispered.

“Oh, certainly. Feel free to look around while I get him,” she said and waved to the showroom before taking off to find the manager.

Chuck kicked at the leg of a fancy wrought iron and glass coffee table. “What’s your style, Ikher? Fancy or contemporary?”

“Umm, contemporary, I guess,” Ikher said with a shrug. “I don’t need anything fancy.”

“Good man. Showboat’n gets you robbed,” Chuck said with a twinkle in his eye.

A bald man in a suit waddled up to them. “Gentlemen, how can I help you?”

Vernard shook his hand and then stepped in close. “My brother-in-law’s house got robbed,” he said, nodding to Ikher. “Most of his stuff was damaged or destroyed. So, we’re looking to replace several rooms worth of furniture today.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the manager said with a sigh, the sincerity in his voice not reaching his eyes. “I’m sure one of our salespeople will help you out.”

“Yeah, see, we’re looking for someone with the authority to bargain. I should also mention,” Vernard said, flashing him a thick roll of bills. “We’ll be paying cash.”

The manager blinked, his attention coming on the wad of money. He glanced around before nodding to Vernard.

“I’m sure we can work something out,” he said with a smile. “Pick out what you want and then have someone find me.”

“Excellent,” Vernard said, slipping the manager a bill as he shook his hand. “Thank you, sir.”

“Aight, mane,” Chuck said, clapping Ikher on the back. “Let’s get you some new shit.”