"Дон Пендлтон. California Hit ("Палач" #11) " - читать интересную книгу автора

right, you know. That guy comes on strong... damned strong. So we got to put
it all together that's all."
"I don't see how one guy could be all that bad," a lieutenant
commented.
Laurentis growled, "Well go tell it to New York, and to Chi and Vegas.
Go tell it in L.A. and Palm Springs. I'm telling you, we got a hell of a
thing on our hands here."
"So what is it you're saying, Franco?" Vericci asked. "What do you want
us to do? Turn everything we got over to you?"
"Exactly," the enforcer replied.
The two underbosses locked eyes briefly, and some unspoken
understanding moved between them.
Ciprio sighed and said, "Well, if we got a business freeze... then I
guess... why not? The sooner you crack this guy the sooner we can get back
to normal. Okay. Everything I got is yours to command, Franco."
"Me too," Vericci said quietly.
Ciprio added, "Except..."
"Except what?"
"Except you got just twenty-four hours. That's all."
"That's not enough," the enforcer angrily replied.
"That's all you got," Ciprio insisted. "That's all any of us has got.
And then it all starts to cave in. How about those niggers over in Fillmore,
Tommy? How long will it take them to realize that they're on their own? And
how about the slant-eyes down on Grant? You willing to give them two or
three days to get their tongs on the streets again?"
"Ah hell, I don't know," Vericci said.
"Well I do. And I got the same problems over in Richmond - also that
bunch of sickle-and-hammer do-does in Oakland. Now we just can't go and
freeze ourselves out of the action for more than a day, I know that. I'll
tell you all, Don DeMarco with you, I've worked too hard to get this
territory humming the way I want it. I ain't about to lose it now to some
asshole soldier boy who thinks..."
"Bullshit!" Laurentis yelled. "Can't you understand nothing? This boy
don't want your damned territories! He wants your blood, man, your blood!
You can't limit me to no twenty-four hours for a hit like this!"
Vericci calmly moved in as peacemaker. "Franco's right, Vinnie. We
can't tie his hands with unrealistic conditions. What d'ya want, Franco?
Just tell us what you want."
"I want every rodman, every street soldier, every runner - I want every
damn bookie and pimp and whore and bagman this town has got. I want all your
union boys - the bartenders and waiters and cabbies and everybody. I even
want the shoeshine boys and newspaper boys, the strippers and the musicians
and everything else we got a handle on or a gig into. I want a damned army
out on those streets, in the bars and the hotels and anywheres else this guy
might want to light down. And I don't want no excuses or hardship cases. I
mean I don't want no sick stomachs or aching heads or falling arches or any
of that crap. I want vigilance - I want a town that's all eyes, ears, and
noses - and I want it around the clock and everywheres within running
distance of here."
Ciprio said "Whooosh."