They all crawled into bed and wrapped themselves around Jenny. She wriggled and sighed.
“I know that I… interrupted. Do you need to… finish?”
“Shh,” said Dawn.
“Shh,” said Johnny. He was up against her back, and still hard, so it sort of found a home in her butt crack. She didn’t complain. She just snuggled back into him. His hand naturally wound up on her breast. It wasn’t sexual. He just held her.
And off to sleep they all went.
——
The next morning, at PAB.
“You’re serious?” Johnny asked the chief.
“Deadly serious,” the chief said. “According to our intelligence, they’re after you all.”
Johnny stood up and got the phone out of his pocket and dialed.
“2501,” Jay said.
“Blossom,” Johnny said. “Right the fuck now.”
Silence. Then, “On the way. I’ll call everyone.” She clicked off.
“Chief, I’ll need units at our Blossom rendezvous point.”
“I have no idea where that is, Johnny.”
“Good. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
——
According to LAPD’s intelligence, the cartel was in town and was after those who had killed off their Los Angeles members. Which was Johnny. How they knew it was him, he didn’t know. They might have tracked through his brother to Dawn, and thereby to him and his. It didn’t matter. He trusted the chief.
Johnny gave him the address of the house he had rented several months ago for just such an occasion.
“I need… as much of the armory as you can give me, Sir.”
“You got it.” He called for his administrative aide, who entered immediately. “Take Johnny here to Sergeant Reynolds and tell him to give Johnny everything he wants. Everything,” he emphasized.
“Yessir. Come with me,” she said.
“Johnny?”
“Yessir.”
“Please minimize the collateral damage.”
“You bet.”
The armory had everything. Pistols, automatic weapons, shotguns, breaching explosives, other explosives that Johnny struggled to come up with a police purpose for.
“What’ll you have?” Sergeant Reynolds asked. He’d obviously already been briefed.
“Some of everything,” Johnny said. “We’ll have a bunch of shooters. And a lot of ammo.”
“How much is a lot?”
“A shit load.”
“Aye aye.”
When Johnny pulled up to the safe house, Buddy Magellas was already there, waiting outside and watching the exterior.
“Holy shit!” he said when Johnny opened the trunk of the car. “Merry Fucking Christmas!”
They moved the arms into the house. It was a full house. Johnny’s girls were there. And Kimmy. And Jenny. And Buddy Magellas and his wife Jen.
“We’re going to have to hot bunk,” Johnny said.
“Or not,” Jen said.
“And somehow, we are going to have to get Kimmy out of here.”
As per norm, Kimmy glared at him. He ignored it.
“Cyndi’s place. I’d take her, but I’m riding shotgun here.” He got on his cell phone.
“Morrison.”
“I need a big favor. I need you to house a young girl for a night or two, to get her out of harm’s way.”
Silence.
Then: “Yes, of course, to that. I assume that it’s Kimmy. But then… what can I do to get you out of harm’s way?”
“Maybe the Marines.
——
The first attack took place very early the next morning. It was a good thing that they were not home. Surprisingly, the attackers did not do terrible things to their clothing in the closets, or their furniture, or anything. They apparently had only one purpose.
The LAPD was on site, but in small numbers because they didn’t expect an attack so soon. They took out two of the perps and lost no one, so it was a good morning.
The chief updated Johnny, and Johnny called Meyer, and they all met for a confab at the safe house.
“Sinaloa cartel, Johnny,” the chief said. “I figured you were right when you said that only the local jerks would care about you and Dawn, but apparently you were wrong.”
“Yep. I was wrong. It worked for some time but I guess you can never keep it from biting you in the ass.”
“So what’s your plan?”
“Kill them all first.”
“Good plan. But they have a large number of people to send…”
“That’s okay. Thanks to you, I have a large amount of ammo. So… they’re after Dawn?”
“And probably you, if they know that you killed their LA people, and anybody around Dawn when they get to her.”
Meyer said, “Johnny, it might make sense to just move. They obviously know where your house is. And I hate to suggest it but if I were in your shoes, I might think about moving to another state.”
“I have a different plan,” the chief said. “One that might minimize all of the shooty stuff.”
They looked at him, waiting.
“I’m going to pull a few strings to get someone to talk to them. The intelligence group will know how to reach the cartel.”
******
As it turned out, “a few strings” turned out to start with the chairman of the Senate Committee on Armed Services, a good friend of the chief and of Richard Morrison. And thanks to that, the strings wound up ending in the White House.
“Hello?”
“Hello Mr. Garcia. This is the President of the United States of America. How’s your day going?”
Silence.
“If you don’t believe me, you can call me back at the White House.”
“I believe you. I recognize your voice.”
“Splendid. On to business, if I may. I’ve been briefed on your activities and the results in the Los Angeles area. And on your attack on the home of those you feel are responsible.”
Silence.
“I have a tape that can confirm that the actions taken by the person you’re after were in self-defense, if you care.”
Silence.
“Look. I’m after a cease fire and truce here. If you’re not interested, I have an alternate solution.”
“What would that be?”