189 Sweet Sammy Brown



Honey and I went on for almost a half hour.  Her voice getting weaker was my objective.  Finally  I whispered one last time.  “Now I want you to scream until I tell you to stop.  When I tell you to stop, do not make another sound period.” I said.


I turned on the juice and left it on very low just as a reminder to scream.  She did and I let her go a few seconds then held up my hand for her to stop.  “Hey,  Hey are you alright,?”  I held up my hand so she wouldn’t answer.”  Then I just jammed the audio.  I got an almost new sheet from the closet.  It was all I had.


“Earl, I said into the cell phone.  Send me two of the people from Swamp Thing.  I need to get this chick out of here and over to Lois’s apartment and I want the other detainee to watch through the window.”


I had her lay on the sheet and then I rolled her up in it.  As I sprinkled catsup on it I said, “You are doing fine, don’t fuck this up now.”  To the two men who came in I said, for the Microphone,  “Get this garbage out of here.”  They carried the limp Honey from the apartment and into Lois’s place.  The beauty of the compound was that the pimp/supplier could see it, but nobody walking by would have.  Besides he thought he knew what was in the sheet, a passerby wouldn’t have a clue.


I let the second one stew while I had a late lunch.  I don’t usually like mac & cheese.  Then again most M&C doesn’t have three cheeses and it isn’t fried either.  The M&C was like another meat to me.  Helen also make a wicked M&C soup, but that wasn’t on our take out menu.  I could enjoy my lunch because I hadn’t done anything to turn my stomach yet.  It was just a matter of time before I skip several meals.  I wasn’t nearly the cold bitch, I pretended to be.


I was about half finished with my lunch when Lucas and Abra came into the room.  “So what do you need me to check?” he asked.


“I want to know, who our friend driving the escape car really is?” I said.  “He wasn’t carrying any ID, but he was partnered with a junkie whore.  Some things make him a pro, and some make him a pimp.  I want to know which before I start on him.


“Can do,” Lucas said.


“Lucas, use the computer in my bedroom please,” I added.  When he had gone, I asked Abra.  “How many men have you killed?”


“Too many, “ she said.  She didn’t give me the macho bullshit answer just a simple sad ‘Too many.”  I could only nod at her answer.


“How about you?” she asked.


I thought about the Harvard Chink when I said, “Obviously not enough, there are plenty more that need it.”


“There will always be men who need killing,” she said.  “Some people think we should not be judge and executioner, but sometimes that is what we have to be.  Simply because there is no one else who can, or will do it. ”  she said and I just nodded my agreement.


“I should get back to it.  Let me go see what Lucas has learned?”   I left Abra at my dining table while I went into the bedroom.


“So Lucas who is the punk in Lois’s apartment awaiting his turn in the barrel,” I asked.


“His name is Samuel Brown.  His street name is Sweet Sammy.  He is a pimp and low level drug dealer.  Sells till they get really hooked, when they are out of money, he turns the girls out onto the streets.” Lucas said.


“Any idea how he is connected to the Harvard Chink?” I asked.


“He does odd jobs for several of his suppliers.  He has a rep as being able to come up with people to do about anything.  He has a handful of girls, and even some guys, who do what he tells them for drugs.  Kind of a low lever cannon fodder supplier.  The odd thing is that he came along.  Usually he stays miles away from the actual work.  Once in a while he provides a little muscle for drug deals and things like that.  He might have gotten recommended for the gig.  He almost surely recruited Honey,” Lucas said.


“So there is at least a chance he knows the Harvard Chink?” I asked.


“Yeah. but most likely there was a cutout.” Lucas said.  I could tell he had been talking to the Swamp Thing intel officer.  On this operation it was the older man who earlier had shadowed Lucas to Tryon.”


“So where is this Sweet Sammy doing business,” I asked.  “That might tell us something.”


“He mostly does business in Tryon.” Lucas said.


“Well no sense putting this off any longer, it’s time to interrogate Mr. Sweet Sammy Brown.  I wonder if he is from Georgia.” I laughed at my silly joke.  It was a reaction to the tension, I knew that.  During the next hour, I might be doing something that would leave a scar on my soul.  It had to be done, if Lucas and I were to survive.  I valued our lives far more than that of a drug dealing pimp.


I hummed ‘Sweet Georgia Brown’ as they brought Sammy Brown into my apartment.  I had put down a sheet of painter’s plastic under the chair.  I had a pretty good idea Brown would be harder to crack than the junkie.  He also had more to tell me.


“What did you do to Honey?” he asked.


I gave him an evil smile and said, “She is in a better place.  A place where you can’t hurt her anymore.”  I went back to humming sweet Georgia brown while I set up a wooden TV tray type table beside my chair in the interrogation area.  Then I moved a hammer and plyers onto it.  He sat with nothing but the evil images to occupy his mind for several minutes.


First I attached the alligator clamps to his fingers, one clamp on each hand. The clamps were attached to an extension cord which was then plugged into a power strip with an on off switch.  Sammy didn’t get the dimmer switch.  I had zero sympathy for Sammy.  The drug enforcer knew he was trying to kill me.  I wondered how Sammy was going to like being on the other side of the hammer and electrical cord.


“Sammy, my name is Maxine Stone, and you tried to kill me.  I know it wasn’t your idea, but when you triggered that cell phone, you knew what would happen.  I also know there is a bullshit story you have been told to relay to me if you got caught.  Well Sweet Sammy you are caught.  So let me just start with this.


I hit him on the knee cap just a hard as I could with the ball peen hammer.  Sammy screamed  “Damn Sammy you scream louder than your junkie girlfriend did.  Now you are probably going to limp for a while, and you might walk with a cane but you will live.  I walk with a cane, it isn’t much fun, but it’s not impossible.’


“Damn where is my mind? I forgot to ask who sent you?  So just for the hell of it, who sent you?”  I asked.


“When I made My regular buy, the leader of a drug gang talked to me,   He told me I could make an easy grand by blowing up a motel.” he said.


“Now that man lied, you might get the grand, but it sure as hell ain’t gonna be easy,” I said laughing at him.  “Do you have any idea how much easier it is to make a man talk in the states.  In the middle east the power grid is unreliable.  Half the time when you juice a man, it just tickles him.  The power grid here is very reliable.  Let me show you?”


I flipped the switch on the power strip to the on position, and Sammy screamed again.  “Sammy, you ain’t very good with pain.  My friends tell me you can dish it out, but you sure as hell can’t take it.  I hit him with another shot of the juice before I demanded, “Tell me everything you know about the gang who hired you to kill me.   Sammy began immediately rattling off names and addresses.


“That’s all bullshit,” Lucas said through the door.


“Ah you lied to me Sammy.  I guess, if I cant trust anything you say, there is no sense keeping  you around.”


“The order to park the car behind this apartment building came from the importer.  The gang leader told me himself.  You stepped on some big toes,” he said.


“Must have been painful for someone.” I said.  “Now talk about this gang that buys their dope from the importer.  I want to know all about them.”  Since he didn’t respond immediately I knew he was dreaming up some bullshit.  I zapped him again but he looked like he might be going into shock, so it had to be the last one.


“You know how you feel, but it looks as though the next hit of juice is going to stop heart.  So unless you want to go out in the matching sheet answer me quickly, completely, and truthfully.  If you die it is going to be your own fault.  I want you alive in case something else comes up, but I have to have these answers.  If you die before you answer them all, I will be sorry, and it will be inconvenient. but there will be someone else along to interrogate.  There is no shortage of people willing to risk their ass for drugs.”


“He began to talk and did not stop for over an hour.  He rambled and I asked him the same questions four or five times to be sure he answered the same each time.”  At the end of the interrogation I had a crap load of information.


I was giving Sammy some thought when Abra came into the room.  She looked at Sammy’s exhausted body slumped in the metal chair.  “We all heard what he had to say.  So what do we do with him now?” she asked.


“Either kill him or let him escape,” I whispered to her.


“My vote is a bullet in the head,” she suggested.


“Murder is way too complicated,” I informed her.  “He needs to heal a little,. then escape or we need to turn him over to the DEA or CIA.”


“Why the CIA?” she asked.


“My guess is they are interested in all things Chinese., these days.” I said.


“Yeah, you are probably right.  I think you should turn him over to the admiral and let him decide what to do with him.  He can get some mileage out of the capture.  If you do it most likely will get a little cooperation now but then things will return to the same old, same old.”


“That’s a viable option, if the admiral want’s this loser,” I said.


“He can sell his ass to the DEA now that he is talking.” Abra said.


“Killing him and framing the Tong still sounds good to me,” I said it loud enough for Sweet Sammy to hear me.


“We know enough now to move on someone who maybe knows where to find our man,” I said.  “We also have a problem.  The gang has a lot of guys, most are going to be pretty harmless from what I hear about gangs.  Some, however, we be very dangerous indeed.  If we move on them the potential is there for people to die,” I said.


“There is always that,” Abra replied.


“If we do it carefully, maybe we can prevent wholesale slaughter,” I suggested.


“Maybe the war on drugs needs to be a real war,” she said quietly.


“One thing at a time.  My war is only with a few of them, not every drug dealer in the world.  I’m going to leave that for politicians,” I admitted.






About cindypress

sorry it is a mystery.
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2 Responses to 189 Sweet Sammy Brown

  1. jack says:

    Max does indeed have a mean streak i see,but is it mean enough.

  2. cindypress says:

    They asked how bad are you Max asks how bad do I need to be.

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