The Heart of an Assassin by Tony Bertot

Eric
complied and jumped into the passenger’s side, just in time before
Tyler gunned it. The car peeled out, heading uptown toward 127th
and St. Nicholas; Spades territory.
    Eric sat quietly in the car, wishing he could
say something to defuse the situation. But he had seen Tyler before
in this state. There was no talking to him. Just got to make sure
nothing goes wrong, Eric thought to himself.
    A few seconds later, they were cruising up
St. Nicholas. Then Tyler saw what he was looking for. On a park
bench, up against a stone wall running alongside St. Nicholas Park,
he saw a group of black teenagers. All were wearing a black scarf,
some with spades tattooed on their arms.
    Tyler pulled over and stepped calmly out of
the car. With Eric behind him, they approached the six teenagers at
the bench. Three of the teenagers stood up and came forward as
Tyler and Eric approached.
    Tyler pulled out his revolver and aimed it at
the head of one of the approaching teenagers. They all froze. Tyler
continued to walk forward, past the three that stood up to greet
them. In the meantime, Eric pulled his weapon out, and though he
kept it in check, he meant to use it if any of these punks tried
anything.
    Sitting on the bench was Lamont Spaling,
leader of the Black Spades. “What you want, man?” asked Lamont of
Tyler.
    “I want you, you asshole,” Tyler responded
while bringing the gun barrel up to his face.
    “Hey, you crazy, man,” Lamont said
alarmingly. “What, why you say that, man?” Lamont asked, obviously
shaken.
    “Cause you killed my friend’s kid over on
120th,” Tyler responded.
    “Man, I don’t know what you are talking
about. That wasn’t us. I swear, man,” Lamont cried out.
    “Well, I am going to find out who did it, and
if I hear you, or any one of your whores here were in on it, I am
coming for you,” Tyler finished.
    Tyler stepped back slowly, then turned his
back on them and walked away. Eric followed, walking backward with
his weapon still out, cautiously watching to see if any one of them
made any sudden moves.
    As they drove back to the precinct, Eric
asked Tyler if he was all right; if there was anything he needed to
talk about. Tyler told Eric it was something from the past and that
he would rather not talk about it right now. Eric nodded and they
drove silently the rest of the way.
     
     

 
The Assignment
    June
6, 1984 (New York City)
    When Eric and Tyler returned to their
precinct, they were advised that Captain O’Malley wanted to see
them.
    Captain John O’Malley had been at this
precinct for more than twenty-two years and had known Tyler’s uncle
well. Tyler’s uncle died in a gun shooting a few years before Tyler
had transferred to Manhattan. At the time, O’Malley had promised
himself that if Tyler ever managed to transfer over to his
precinct, he would watch over him, and he’d been true to his
word.
    “Eric and Tyler reporting as requested, oh
great leader,” Eric announced.
    “Cut the bullshit, Eric!” commanded
O’Malley.
    “Uh . . . sorry, sir,” responded Eric.
    Tyler smiled and grabbed a seat in front of
O’Malley’s desk. Eric followed suit and sat without any more
comments.
    “Got a job for you, right up your alley. We
got an official, turned stoolie, who needs protection from the mob.
We’re looking for volunteers to keep an eye on him around the
clock. We took a vote while you two were out, and it was unanimous
that you take on the assignment,” O’Malley announced.
    “But, Captain, we got ourselves an assignment
already. That kid that was gunned down was probably an innocent
bystander,” Tyler responded. “Also, sir, I knew his father and know
the family. I owe it to them.”
    The captain stared at Tyler and then over to
Eric. He knew it was a mistake to have sent him over there, to his
old neighborhood; it must have been hard for him.
    “It’s for that reason I am taking you off
this case; too personal,” O’Malley said. “Sorry, Tyler, but I
really