Inside apartment 38 in the Minnesota Boulevard housing projects, Weasel shoved Amelia down into the seat of a chair. One of the three other men in the room tied her hands behind her back. Then Weasel grabbed her by the chin and lifted her smooth brown face up to his blotchy pink face. He opened a switchblade and placed it against her soft skin. “You ain’t a bad-looking woman, Amelia,” he said, as he traced the blade along her high cheekbone. “I can see why Hammer Reese enjoys fucking you. I can see how you’re one of his whores. Hammer likes the black bitches. But you’re in my hands now. And I’m no Hammer.”
“You got that right,” Amelia said defiantly, causing snickers from the other men in the room.
Weasel frowned. “You’ve got a lot of mouth for a woman with a knife to her face. I can make you ugly with just one little press down, bitch, so don’t you forget it!”
He demonstrated just how easy it was by applying more pressure to the blade against her face. Amelia inwardly winced, but knew he was just bluffing. He had orders to wait, and he had no choice but to follow them. That was why her mind wasn’t on his tricks and stunts. She was too busy attempting every technique Hammer had taught her, if she ever had to free her tied hands.
Weasel, clueless about what was really going on, was still stuck on his own narrative. “We’ll see if Hammer wants you after I take away your beauty,” he said, staring at her face; at the softness of her skin. “We’ll see if he wants to fuck you when I’m through with you.”
Then Weasel smiled. “Then again,” he said, “he’s not going to get another chance anyway. I’m going to be the last fucker that fucks you.”
Unbeknownst to Weasel and the three other men in the room, Amelia had used the technique to perfection and had managed to untie her hands. It was all about distraction now. “Cut the shit, Weasel,” she said impatiently. “Where’s Jerardo? Your ass junior varsity. Where’s the boss? I only deal with the head, not the tail.”
Weasel was stunned that Amelia had figured out who his boss could be. He looked at the other men. They were careful to use only new people. People, including Weasel himself, that she would have never associated with Jerardo Jovanni. “How did you know?” he asked her, unable to shield his shock.
She didn’t know. She had been testing the waters. Just recently Jerardo had asked to go into business with her, at least in her US markets, but she had turned him down. He was a high roller, and didn’t take rejection well. She had many enemies, but had placed him at the top of the list for that very reason. That was why she said his name. She was pleased to have bingo off the bat.
But Amelia didn’t play bingo. She was a chess player. She didn’t give a shit about who the boss was. She just needed time to figure out her next move. “I’ll deal,” she said, “but only with Jerardo.”
Weasel frowned. “Who are you to make demands? What the fuck you got to deal, anyway, bitch? I’m running this! Jerardo ain’t got time for your ass! You deal with me!”
Amelia looked into his eyes. She knew guys like Weasel her whole life. She knew he was all talk, and no action. She also knew that Jerardo, somebody she knew as a friend, wouldn’t give a man like Weasel carte blanche to do shit. “You’re a benchwarmer,” she said. “I only work with the starters.”
Weasel angrily took his knife and sliced down the front of her silk blouse, dislodging all of the buttons and ripping the blouse wide open. Amelia pushed her body back in horror. She wore no bra, and her breasts bounced with her pushback. And the men smiled as her breasts laid bare for all to see.
Then Weasel smiled too. “I know you and the Hammer claim not to be a couple. I hear all that shit about how it’s all about the baby and you two don’t give a fuck about each other. I know that’s what you two say.”
He continued to stare at her breasts. “But I say that’s bullshit. There’s no way in hell he’s giving this up.” He moved his hand toward her breast, as if he was going to squeeze it. But fiery Amelia wasn’t about to let him get away with that. She spat in his face. “Touch it, motherfucker,” she warned, “and what limb I don’t tear away from your body, my brothers will!”
Weasel was a lot of crazy things, but he came to his senses when she reminded him who she was. And, more jarring, who her brothers were! He wiped away her spit and stood erect again. Then he smiled. “Fuck your brothers,” he said. “You’re doomed anyway. Once I get the word, it’s over for you.”
Amelia had already suspected they planned to kill her. Nobody kidnapped a Sinatra without that ultimate intention. But she knew his boss. She knew Jerardo Jovanni wouldn’t leave that up to Weasel. She had to make her move before she could be proven wrong. “How much?” she asked.
Weasel and his men looked at her. His men, who didn’t know her personally at all, were amazed at the balls she had. Weasel, who at least knew of her, was too. “How much what?” he asked her.
“How much is Jerardo paying you to keep me here? Whatever it is, I’ll triple the price.”
Weasel smiled. Then he laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? You still think you run this, don’t you? When the outside crew finish doing what they got to do and secure that territory, and I get that knock on the door, it’s over for you. And the beautiful thing about it? Your brother, that crazy-ass Mick Sinatra, and your super-crazy ass boyfriend Hammer Reese, will never know we even had you. They’ll never know what happened to you because you are going to be cut into a thousand little pieces and dumped in the Atlantic Ocean. But right now,” he said with menace in his eyes, “I’m going to get my taste.”
He took one of her breasts in his hand, and squeezed it painfully hard. As soon as he did, Amelia took her stiletto-clad foot and kicked as hard as she could into his balls. The knife fell from his hands and he fell to his knees in indescribable agony. The three other men in the room pulled out their guns, ready to take her out at just a word from Weasel.
But Amelia had her own plans. With her hands now untied, she flipped backwards out of the chair, causing one of the men to fire and miss, and then grabbed the knife Weasel had dropped. She threw it, with precision, at one of the gunmen. She stabbed him through the chest. She rolled again, avoiding gunfire, and tried to grab the downed man’s gun as it flew out of his hand.
But she wasn’t fast enough. Another gunman placed his big shoe on the gun, and pointed his own gun at her head. “Try it, bitch,” he said.
And just like that, her scheme was over.
But it wasn’t over for Weasel. He was so angry at what she had done to him, as the pain continued to shoot through his balls, that he moved over, grabbed the knife out of the chest of one of his men, and hurried to Amelia. He knocked her down, got on his knees and grabbed her from behind, and placed that knife to her face again. His anger was palpable. “I’m supposed to learn everything I can from your ass before I kill you. I’m supposed to learn everything about just how widespread your operation really is. But now I don’t give a fuck. Now I’m going to cut you so deep, and fuck you up so bad, that you won’t have a face that even a mother could love. You killed one of my men, and after what you just did to me? Bitch, you’re about to die!”
But then the door was kicked open and Ozzie Jones, followed by Hammer himself, walked in. Both men had their weapons drawn, and entered a room where the two remaining men had their weapons drawn also, and aimed them as soon as the door was kicked open.
And the room, as if a pause button had been pressed, froze. Including Weasel, who now knew Amelia was his only bargaining chip. Including Amelia, who was stunned to see Hammer walk through that door. She expected, once JoJo’s Nanny gave him a call, that his men would hit the street, get intel, and he would send one of his men to her rescue. And with his connections, they just might find her. She never dreamed he’d come himself.
Hammer’s heart pounded when he saw Amelia with that knife to her throat. And the state she was in! With her blouse ripped wide open, her breasts revealed, and her face so anguished that it anguished him. His gun was locked and loaded, and he was ready to kill that motherfucker if he made any false move with that knife, but he knew it was going to be a close shot. Her captor had her body shielding his own.
Normally, he would take the shot anyway. Sometimes he hit the victim, sometimes he didn’t. It was all in the name of justice. But this wasn’t just some random victim he could potentially kill. It was Amelia. The mother of his only child. The only woman he’d ever wanted so completely that he refused to admit it, even to himself.
He couldn’t take that chance.
But Weasel was in a different bad spot. He was angry that his men had choked. “What are you doing?” he yelled at them. They had guns, and were just standing there. “Kill his ass!”
But his men understood what he was asking. It was one thing to kidnap Hammer’s woman behind his back. It was one thing to threaten and even to kill her. But to kill Hammer? To be the one to put that bullet through his chest? To put a bullet through the former director of the CIA? If it didn’t work, and he survived, they were screwed. If it worked, and he didn’t survive, they were screwed. They froze because they knew they were fucked either way.
And Hammer and Oz saw their fear. They saw it as if that fear was a breathing organism. Hammer didn’t have to look at Oz. All he had to do was nod to his right. Oz knew what it meant. It meant that Hammer had the man to his right, and Oz was to take the other one. Since the two kidnappers already had their weapons drawn and aimed at Hammer and Oz, you would think those kidnappers had the advantage. But Hammer and Oz had the expertise. They waited for the exact right moment.
It came through Weasel’s mouth. “Do it!” he yelled at his men. “Don’t just stand there staring at those bastards, take them out!”
It was all they needed. That second of indecision they saw in those two men before them, was all they needed. And they were able to fire their weapons, with Oz taking out the guy to the left and Hammer taking out the guy to the right, before the kidnappers could fire one single shot.
Weasel was astounded. He knew Hammer was good, but his men didn’t even fight back! He pulled Amelia closer against his chest. If he was getting out alive, it was going to be through her.
“Come any closer,” he warned Hammer, “and I’ll kill this bitch! I’ll slice her fucking head off!”
“And end up like your friends?” Hammer asked him. “Sure you want to do that?” His heart was pounding as that fool’s knife kept pressing harder against Amelia’s flesh. “Sure you want to take me on? It won’t end well for you. Drop it. Or I’ll drop you. Simple as that.”
Weasel stared at Hammer. He’d heard horror stories about his craziness. Anybody caught up in international crime heard about that asshole. But not just that he went after the bad guys his way, which often was illegal and more street justice than real justice. But that he would not let a case go until he caught his man. His men were usually international terrorists threatening U.S. targets, but he had a reputation on the street as a man who could find a way to tie everything to some overseas crime ring, if he wanted to get you.
Weasel didn’t doubt that Hammer would kill him and Amelia right along with him before he let him walk free. He was as doomed as his partners had been. But unlike his partners, he was no fool. He felt he stood a better chance living if he gave it up, than he did if he didn’t.
He dropped the knife and held up his hand, hoping the law and order side of Hammer Reese would win the day.
It might have, but Amelia got in the way.
As soon as Weasel dropped that knife, she picked it up. And she didn’t wait for Hammer to make a decision. She made the decision. She grabbed that knife and slit Weasel’s throat. No fucker was going to kidnap her, attempt to rape her, and she just let it slide. She slid that knife across his throat. That was the only sliding she was willing to do.
But as Weasel fell down, choking on his own blood, holding his hands to his throat in a lame attempt to stop the blood gush, she dropped the knife and just sat there.
Hammer walked over to her, removed his suit coat, and placed it around Amelia’s exposed upper body. His coat swallowed her.
Then he stood her up. Her breasts were heaving and she was breathing almost in hyperventilation, as her cool breath was like a cool breeze on his face. And they stared into each other’s eyes. Hammer remembered the first time he saw those big, green eyes. She was just a kid driving the getaway car in a bank robbery. But those eyes haunted him even then. Just like they haunted him even now.
She was stubborn as a mule, and a survivor, just like he was. And he loved that about her. They had grown closer since their son was born, and their feelings for one another had intensified to heights neither one of them dared acknowledge. But he was too relieved to have her back, lost now found, to worry about anything else. He pulled her into his arms.