Bennie thought about it. "You're going to make me famous if you do. I'll take the case myself if the evidence is damning enough. What do you have?"
"You might have to wait for it," I replied. "I have a recorded conversation between Edgar Villalobos, the head of the Latin Kings, and someone claiming to represent the Union discussing a collaboration. But I don't have Berkowitz herself on tape saying anything."
"That would be helpful. You can get some heat on Berkowitz, but she's got enough connections and a high power team of lawyers. No way could I get even an indictment without either testimony, a confession, or her on tape, preferably high definition audio and video. You do that, I can get an indictment on at least a RICO charge."
"I'll see what I can do," I said. I turned away, but Bennie's voice called me back. "Yes?"
"You're doing more than just gathering information for me, I know that," he said. "But how long are you planning on keeping this up? Your luck has to run out some time."
I leaned against the side of the building and crossed my arms over my chest. "How long are you planning on trying to take down the corrupt assholes I keep bringing you? You know eventually one of them is going to get off on some technicality on appeal. You're making enemies just as powerful as mine."
"It might happen," Bennie agreed. "But I have the hope that I can be promoted out of here and in Washington or heading an office by that point. Hell, my luck holds up, you might be breaking in a new federal prosecutor soon enough. But as to your question, I'm not stopping. Cleaning up the streets, it's in my blood."
"I won't stop either," I replied. "We all have our reasons, Bennie. Some day, maybe years from now, we can sit down and enjoy a drink together and celebrate the fruition of our plans."
"And if we can't? What if you get arrested in the meantime?"
I turned and headed to the edge of the roof, where I pulled my black hang glider from out of the shadows and strapped it on. "Then I expect a pretty good case from the city DA. But it won't come to that. Good night, Bennie."
Chapter Nine
Sophie
I looked down the sight, working to still my body and my heart. It had been nearly seven months since I'd last shot a firearm, and I didn't have time for any more rust to accumulate on my reactions.
The target was tiny, an empty Red Bull can a hundred meters away against the dusty bluff of dirt. There weren't too many places within easy driving distance of the city where I could actually go out and fire under real conditions, but there was only so much I could do with laser replications or pellet guns. Patrick and Mark might have been able to keep their skills up using indoor firing ranges, but I was practicing long range shooting.
The AR-15 felt light in my hands, and I knew I was stronger than I had been the last time I fired. I hadn't been sitting on my ass the whole time I was pregnant, and my hard work since having Andrea had paid dividends. My waist and hips were still larger than they'd been pre-pregnancy, but that was due to changes in my pelvis. I was in nearly the best shape of my life, and while we hoped it wasn’t going to come to it, I was ready if need be to fight next to my husband.
There was only this one skill to work on still, one that took not aggressive energy, but patience and calmness. I caressed the trigger, and the gun kicked in my hands, sending another round down range. The can tumbled over, and I knew I had another hit.
"Good job," Mark said, taking his binoculars away from his face. Andrea was enjoying a day with her Aunt Tabby and Uncle Patrick, a bit early for a three month old baby, but necessary. "Think you're up for longer range shots?"
"Yeah, let's take it out to two hundred meters. If I can hit those well, we'll be ready for three hundred plus with the balloons," I said. It was one of the ways Mark had changed me, making me a stronger, better woman than I'd been before. The military might ask for soldiers to hit only torso sized targets, but I held myself to a higher standard. My goal was to hit balloon sized targets consistently at three hundred meters, which if you've ever tried, is hard as hell. They flutter in the wind, move around erratically, and demand pinpoint targeting to hit. Even a good sniper could miss them in a good breeze.