It was there when we were slightly surprised. El Patron had expected us, it seemed, and had stationed men on the roof. There were four of them, all of them armed not with guns but with bats and nightsticks. They saw us as soon as I stuck my head up over the edge of the roof, coming towards us while taunting us. Game time.
I rolled to my right as soon as I got off the ladder, taking out one of the gang members at the knees. Patrick rolled left, taking out another before gaining his feet. He dropped a heavy knee into the back of the guy's head, while I finished off mine with a stomp. The other two were already approaching us, and neither Patrick nor myself had time to pull our own weapons. Instead, I stepped inside the swing of my opponent, catching his wrists and turning at the same time.
I was faced with a split second decision. If I held on, I ran the risk of him staying on my back as we fell to the rooftop, possibly in position to wrap me up or even choke me. I'm good, but I'm not impervious to attack. I'd taken my fair share of hits in my time, in and out of practice, and I knew the first lesson for any encounter was to not underestimate your opponent.
The other option was safer for me, but deadly for him. If I twisted my hip and let go, he'd go flying over the edge of the roof, falling the four stories to the asphalt below. Considering he would be doing it parallel to the ground, he was either going to hit on his chest or his back, guaranteeing death as his skull impacted with the blacktop of the alleyway.
I made my decision based not off of anything other than I was tired. I already had a hundred deaths on my conscience, and didn't want another one if I could prevent it. Dropping my knee, we tumbled together to the roof, a rock digging into my shin as we rolled. Thankfully, the impact of our bodies landing on the roof stunned the man on my back, and I was able to twist over and knock him out with a hard shot to his temple right after.
I got to my feet to watch Patrick close with his opponent, ducking the swing of a baton to catch him around the waist and lift him into the air before twisting and driving him down to the rooftop face first. Patrick dropped a forearm shot into the back of the man's neck, and he shuddered once before dropping limp.
"Nice work," I said, reaching into my pocket for the packet of zip strips I had originally brought along to attach a wireless camera to the building. That wasn't going to work any longer, as soon as the Latin Kings discovered what we'd done to their members the rooftop would be swept. We'd have to get information now. "Bind them up."
"Why didn't you let him go?" Patrick asked as he got to work with his own strips. We had brought along an entire pack, fifty each, since they were easy to keep in our pants pocket that way, sealed in their own packaging. "You know, Babe Ruth over there."
"He'd have gone over the edge," I explained. "Didn't want that."
He nodded in understanding, and quickly bound up the four men, along with taping their mouths shut. "We won't have much time to get info."
"Don't need a lot," I replied. "Come on."
We crawled to the edge of the roof, and set up our directional microphone. El Patron was meeting with someone inside the apartment he was using as his headquarters, and I used a small periscope to see what was going on.
"You really are desperate if you want this," El Patron said to his visitor. Whoever it was, I couldn't see them. They must have been sitting just outside the view of the window. "You really hate this guy that much?"
"Just business," the other person replied, a woman's voice. "He's trying to undercut my group's power base, and my boss, she doesn’t want that. Unfortunately, as he says, he's pretty much an open book. There's no skeleton that we know of in his closet that the public doesn't already know about."
Villalobos nodded, and gestured with his hand. "Perhaps, but attacking a center for kids? That's low, even for us."
"Are you saying you won't do it?" the woman replied. "Because if you won’t do it, I'm sure someone else will be interested. Perhaps the Gangster Disciples or maybe the 88's?"
I was surprised at Patron's reaction. Any normal flunkie, and he would have had them summarily shot. You don't go around insulting or threatening a man like that, not unless you had serious backup or a death wish. But Patron didn't do anything other than raise his hands in understanding. "Not at all. I'm just stating that such an undertaking can be very expensive. Are you prepared to compensate the Kings for it?”
"Of course," the woman said. "The Union has a bankroll that would make the Latin Kings the most powerful street gang in Filmore Heights. With our financing, you'll be able to sweep the GDs and 88s out of the way easily."
"Interesting. And your members in the police department, they won't get in the way?" El Patron asked. "Not that we were worried about them before, but such a move would be quite public. The politicians, they enjoy getting publicity. Especially that new one, McCaffery."