FALLEN SOLDIERS
After the L.A. riots ended, no one did any time for almost killing Reginald Denny. No one did any time for the destruction throughout the city. People who had protested in the streets were viewed as rising up against a system that historically had been stacked against them.
South Central and Compton had long been the scene of social activism and protests, sometimes violent in nature, going back to the Watts Riots. In the wake of the L.A. riots, the tension was higher than ever between the citizens and law enforcement.
Cops who worked these areas had to walk a fine line between keeping order and being perceived as brutal. As officers who’d served in Compton for a decade, Tim and Bob had to learn how to maintain control during out-of-control situations, all with the possibility of being accused of being cruel and uncaring no matter what they did. This was a complicated time for law enforcement, a learning period where police work and practices of old melded with new social sensibilities.
The public’s attitude had changed considerably. Black and brown communities in the Los Angeles area had an entirely different perspective on policing than those in predominantly white communities.
“187” on cops - murder - was being graffitied on walls throughout the city. Cops were getting death threats and being shot in South Central. Everyone seemed to be against the police. The media. Juries. Even good citizens saw cops as the enemy.
Police departments had to take measures to rebuild and regain the trust of the communities they served. It was a concerted effort they were willing to make, but it wasn’t an overnight process. During this period, criminals took advantage of the public’s backlash against the police to commit even more crimes. Those who were caught would often cry racism or claim they’d been brutalized in order to get out of being charged. While there were some problematic police officers in Compton, the majority had good relationships with the citizens. Even most of the gangs in the city felt the police treated them fairly. The only officer in Compton’s history to lose his life in the line of duty was Dess Phipps, who died during a traffic collision while pursuing a felon in 1963. Thirty years later, Compton police would experience something so heinous, it would leave them all shaken in its wake.
***
February 22, 1993. Veteran officer Kevin Burrell and reserve officer James “Jimmy” MacDonald rode together on the night shift. Kevin - Black, twenty-nine years old, 6’5”, around three hundred pounds - was a giant of a man. Born and raised in Compton, he loved his city and began his career at the Compton P.D. as a teenager in the Explorer program, which allowed young people interested in a career in law enforcement the opportunity to learn more about it through, among many things, observing officers at work in the field. As an Explorer, Kevin loved riding with Tim and Bob, chasing felons. After he finished making the rounds with them on the P.M. shift, he would work the A.M. shift riding with his other favorite cops. As an officer, Kevin was aggressive and loved making a good felony arrest.
Jimmy - twenty-three years old, white, hard-working - grew up in Santa Rosa, California. He learned about Compton while attending school in southern California. He and Kevin had both been outstanding athletes throughout their school years.
The night of February 22, 1993 was set to be Jimmy’s last working in Compton as a reserve officer. He’d recently been hired for a full-time position in Northern California.
That night, Jimmy and Kevin pulled over Regis Thomas, a member of the Bounty Hunters, one of the most ruthless Blood gangs in South Central.
In the last year, Thomas had been released from jail on a murder charge after the sole eyewitness turned up dead. He had grown up in the Nickerson Gardens housing project where the Bounty Hunters were based. It was a place many cops didn’t go into at night in less than groups of four. Nickerson Gardens, Imperial Courts, and Jordan Downs housing projects were ranked as some of the most dangerous places in the city.
Kevin and Jimmy likely had no idea the level of danger they were about to confront as they stopped Thomas, who was driving a red pickup truck.
Tragically, it would be their last night alive.
***
“Shots fired at Rosecrans and Dwight Street! Officers down!”
This was the last type of radio call an officer ever wanted to hear. The call from Compton dispatch flooded patrol cars, which raced to the scene.
Arriving officers found Kevin and Jimmy’s car facing west on Rosecrans, the overhead lights flashing. In front of the car in the street lay Jimmy MacDonald. He been shot several times, including a shot to the head at close range. Kevin was over by the curb, also down from several gunshots. Like Jimmy, Kevin had been shot in the head at close range.
Both men were dead.
They were rushed by paramedics to MLK Hospital, but those officers who’d been first on the scene already knew Kevin and Jimmy were gone.
***
Tim and Bob had been off that night. They’d rented a cabin in Lake Arrowhead and had taken their families to the mountains for the weekend.
There was a heavy snowstorm and all they had back then were pagers. Because of the storm, there was no reception. Their boss, Reggie, had no way to reach them and there wasn’t a tv in their cabin. Tim and Bob wouldn’t learn what happened until two days later as they were driving down the mountain, headed home. Their pagers finally picked up a signal and both were suddenly flooded with about fifteen or so “911” pages that had been trying to come in.
This rush of pages still didn’t prompt them to call and find out what was up. They assumed it had been just another weekend in Compton, rife with shootings and murders, and Reggie had wanted them to come in.
Tim had gotten sick the last day of their trip, so he definitely wasn’t trying to go in to work. Both men were exhausted from the weekend and looking forward to going home for a good night’s sleep.
Once he was home, Bob received a call from Scott Watson, a Garden Grove cop who was an old friend from the academy. Scott assumed Bob already knew about Kevin and Jimmy and when he talked about what happened, Bob was devastated. He called Tim immediately. Tim had just gotten off the phone with Reggie and had also just learned the tragic news. Bob swung by and picked him up and they went straight in to work.
Los Angeles Times article about Burrell and MacDonald murders.
Vigil for Burrell and MacDonald.
The entire department was an emotional wreck. This was the first time in the Compton P.D.’s history that officers had been shot and killed. People were so upset by the murders they were unable to get a handle on the investigation. In response, Chief Hourie Taylor made one of the smartest decisions of his career: he asked the L.A. County Sheriff’s Department to step in to help. Two days had already been lost on the investigation because the department had been overwhelmed with clues related to the shootings. The Sheriff’s Department had the means and the resources. The Compton gang unit had local intelligence. A task force was formed that included Tim and Bob.
***
The following months were spent working eighteen-hour days, tracking down clues. The case was finally broken when the Sheriff’s Department was contacted by someone at the county jail about a Bounty Hunter Blood from Nickerson Gardens. The caller told Sheriff’s deputies that he robbed drug dealers for a living and there was no way he could go to prison. He’d surely be killed once he got there as payback for all the people he’d jacked. The man wanted to make a deal in exchange for information about the murders of Kevin Burrell and Jimmy MacDonald. He said Regis Thomas had been bragging about killing the Compton cops and had asked him to get rid of the gun he’d used. He said he had hidden the gun at a dope house in San Pedro and could easily get it back.
Everyone was skeptical. This was a hell of a confession to have just fallen into their laps. Still, they had to check it out. Nothing about this case was taken lightly. They were running down every lead.
Undercover officers took the man to a house in San Pedro where he recovered the gun supposedly used in the murder. Lab comparisons were done the next day. To everyone’s amazement, the gun turned out to be the murder weapon. It was a huge breakthrough, one that gave the investigation the momentum needed to effect an arrest.
Officer Tim Brennan speaks at Burrell-MacDonald Memorial Dedication in 2008.
Regis Thomas was taken into custody not long after. A witness who happened to pass by as Kevin and Jimmy were murdered also identified Thomas from a photo line-up. Tim and Bob attended the trial as much as possible to show support for the Burrell and MacDonald families. The families needed it. In addition to it being incredibly tough and emotional for them to sit through, Regis Thomas made it worse, trying to intimidate them. He kept looking back at the family members. He stared at them throughout the trial.
Tim and Bob sat in front of the family members to intercept Thomas’ glares. They gave him back icy stares that let him know they meant business.
Almost two-and-a-half years later, on August 15, 1995, Regis Thomas was convicted of both murders. He was given the death penalty.[22]
Thanks to the efforts of the task force, with special appreciation for the assistance of the Sheriff’s Department, the families of Kevin Burrell and Jimmy MacDonald received justice.
***
After the Burrell/MacDonald task force, Tim and Bob were promoted to gang homicide detectives. Reggie Wright, Sr. was now a lieutenant, but still in charge of the gang unit. Unlike most conventional homicide detectives who worked cases during the day, Tim and Bob still worked during the swing shift. There were many times when they would already be out patrolling the streets when a shooting or murder would take place. They had big jumps on cases because they were often right there on scene, sometimes when the victims were taking their last breaths. Because of their reputations and extensive knowledge of gangs and their rivals, frequently they solved cases the very first day.
They would typically wait until an informant from the same gang as the suspect(s) provided the details of what happened, including the type of guns used, who bought the bullets, who stole the car, who drove, and everyone involved in the planning and execution of the crime. They then used this information to write multiple-location search warrants to hit several gang spots. They would serve the warrants quickly and take all the suspects into custody, making sure they saw each other being arrested.
Tim and Bob would spend hours interrogating each until someone broke. They would use that confession to get the others to admit their involvement. Tim and Bob handled numerous homicides this way over the years. There was something about a gang member seeing other gang members he’d done a crime with all being brought in at the same time, but kept separate from one another. None of them had any idea what the others were saying. Panic would set in over whether someone was confessing and implicating the rest. If that happened, there was no chance of any kind of leniency for the ones who didn’t talk. The weakest link was usually the one who was most afraid or was trying to get a deal for less time and was willing to give up the details to get it.
***
At around 8:20 p.m. on March 18, 1994, Tim and Bob were working when they heard a call come in over the radio about a murder on Compton Boulevard.
There’d been a lead-up to the incident. It involved a recent feud between two sets of Compton Pirus, which was unusual as Piru sets were pretty tight, sticking together against the Crips, who greatly outnumbered them. There had been minor beef here and there between Pirus sets - mainly over women and drugs - but they were quickly quashed. This particular feud between the Tree Top Pirus and the Neighborhood Pirus (NHP) was different. It hadn’t been resolved. Things had escalated.
The Tree Top Pirus were centrally-located in Compton, south of Rosecrans Avenue between Willowbrook and Aranbe. The streets in their neighborhood were named after trees. Elm. Spruce. Cedar. Hence the name of their set. The Neighborhood Pirus were on the west side of Compton, by Central Avenue, south of Rosecrans.
The feud began when the Tree Top Pirus and a clique within the Fruit Town Pirus got into a dispute over drugs. The Fruit Town Pirus were a much larger set, deriving their name from the streets in their neighborhood - Peach, Cherry, Pear, and other fruits. The sets were separated by one street, Rosecrans. The conflict about the drugs became more intense, and worsened when the Neighborhood Pirus joined in and aligned with Fruit Town.
For the first time, conflict between Compton Pirus had resulted in murder. Weeks earlier, Sean Ford - the younger brother of a high-ranking member of the Tree Top Pirus named Derrick Ford, aka “Pot” - had been killed.
Tim and Bob knew Pot very well. He was smart, well-spoken, and always had a good sense of humor when they encountered him. They genuinely liked Pot. There was a mutual respect between them.
They had talked with him after Sean’s death. Pot didn’t have much to say, even though he most likely knew who’d killed his brother.
Tim and Bob knew he wouldn’t let the crime go unavenged. He would eventually try to retaliate. That was street code. If someone hurt a gang member’s family or close friend, it was on that gang member to lead the charge in serving street justice. Pot was a shot caller in his set and was well-respected on the streets. He had to get payback. All Tim and Bob could do was wait, stay on alert, and do their best to get Sean’s suspected killer in custody before his clock ran out.
Pot (standing) and Eight Ball
Pot did admit one thing to them. He said a Neighborhood Piru was responsible. He was sure of it.
***
Tim and Bob didn’t have to wait long. The voice of Bob’s old training officer, J.J. Jackson, came over the radio the night of March 18 around 8:20 p.m. saying he was being flagged down on Compton Boulevard, just east of Central Avenue. J.J.’s deep voice was calm as he spoke.
“I’ve got two gunshot victims,” he said. “One deceased and the other one talking and in stable condition.”
Tim and Bob weren’t sure if this was the retaliation they’d been expecting from Pot, so they headed to the crime scene. Before they arrived, J.J.’s voice came over the radio again.
“The victim is a Neighborhood Piru and says the suspects are from Tree Top.”
Tim and Bob whipped their car around and headed for the Tree Top Piru's turf.
They would later learn that four guns were involved. Several spent .45 caliber, 9mm, and .380 caliber casings were found at the crime scene, and the victim said one of the suspects had a revolver. A .380 caliber handgun with blood on it was found at the scene. The right plastic grip on the weapon was broken and there was scoring on the metal, possibly from a bullet striking it.
Murder scene on the night of March 18, 1994
The surviving victim had described a large, four-door yellow vehicle with a white door pulling up in front of their vehicle. Three Black men jumped out and ran toward them. When the victims saw the men, they jumped out of their car and started to run. All three of the suspects were armed with handguns and began firing at them. The driver was killed immediately, falling dead in the street. The surviving victim was shot in the leg, but managed to escape the barrage of bullets aimed his way. The suspects ran back to their vehicle, hopped inside, and sped away.
Several days prior to this, Tim and Bob had contacted one of their informants who told them that Pot was living at a new house at 433 West Spruce Street and was selling drugs from there. This house was the new hangout for the Tree Top Pirus. The informant also told them he had personally seen Tree Tops with 9mm and .45 caliber handguns.
Based on that informant’s prior intel and J.J. now saying over the radio that the surviving victim was a Neighborhood Piru and the shooters were Tree Tops, Tim and Bob headed to Spruce Street. They didn’t see the yellow car parked anywhere, so they drove right in front of the house. Pot was standing in the doorway with the door wide open. Tim and Bob could see several other Tree Tops inside. Pot immediately turned and went back in, leaving the door wide open.
Tim and Bob jumped out of their car and ran toward the front door. Not this drill again. There were possible gang members inside, maybe ones who had just done a drive-by murder. The detectives charged ahead, both feeling the adrenaline rush that came with this kind of chase. As they approached the door, Bob used his handset to radio for backup. When they got closer to the house, they heard loud noises coming from the rear yard.
Several gang members, three or four, ran out the back door and were hopping the fence which led into an apartment complex at 433 West Rosecrans. Backup units began showing up. Tim and Bob told them to head to Rosecrans. A containment area was quickly set up.
Tim and Bob cleared the house. There was no one inside, although they saw evidence of drugs. Assisting officers held it as Tim and Bob ran out the back door after the suspects.
Tim and Bob ran into the building across Rosecrans, a two-story with four units on each floor. A woman was screaming in an apartment on the second floor. They ran in the direction of the screaming.
When they got to the unit, a pregnant Latina woman in her twenties holding a baby screamed, “They’re in the closet! They’re in the closet!”
As Tim and Bob entered the apartment with their guns drawn, they heard a loud crash in the bedroom and they went inside. The window had been smashed out. Cops could be heard yelling downstairs as Tim and Bob trained their focus on the closet. The men were hiding inside. The detectives recognized them at once. It was TK and Q-Ball, both known Tree Tops. Tim and Bob pulled them out and placed them under arrest. Then, they looked out the smashed window; Pot had jumped through the glass and had broken his leg when he hit the ground.
This was bigger than just busting a drug house. Pot wouldn’t jump out of a second-story window unless he’d done something bad. Something really bad, like maybe murder. Gangsters didn’t risk that level of injury over drugs and gun busts. They didn’t give a shit about catching those kinds of cases. They’d do them and be back on the streets. But here these guys were now, desperate enough to break into a pregnant woman’s apartment. They were trying to dodge getting caught for something very serious.
Tim and Bob had Pot, TK, and Q-Ball in custody for, at the very least, burglary for breaking into the woman’s house, but they knew these Tree Tops were involved in the murder. That’s when the case began to come together.
***
Tim and Bob went back to the house at 433 West Spruce to go through the evidence. They found cocaine, cash, and ammunition for a .45 caliber gun -- the same kind of bullets as some of the spent casings found at the murder scene. This was Tim and Bob’s first real link to the crime. They searched the rear yard and discovered a
.38 caliber revolver with five spent casings still in the chamber. This was mostly likely one of the murder weapons. Back inside, there were fresh drippings of blood in the living room leading to the kitchen. The trail of blood led to the street, then stopped.
At the murder scene over on Compton Boulevard there was a trail of blood from the .380 caliber handgun that went back toward where the suspect vehicle had stopped. It appeared that one of murder suspects had been shot during the incident, perhaps by one of the other suspects. Based on the .380 caliber gun that was left at the scene that had a broken handle and the scoring on the metal, the suspect had probably been shot in the hand.
While Tim and Bob were still at the house, dispatch informed them that a gunshot victim had shown up at St. Francis Hospital in Lynwood. The man had a gunshot wound in his right hand. Tim and Bob knew this was one of their suspects. They had their partners, Eddie Aguirre and Edward Mason, go to the hospital to find out the identity of the victim.
***
Aguirre hit them back with an update. The gunshot victim was Cleophis Bealy, a known member of the Tree Top Pirus who went by the nickname “Nookie.” Nookie had given Aguirre some bullshit story about some unknown person shooting him while he was in the 500 block of West Rosecrans. Based on the evidence at the murder scene and at the house on Spruce, they had enough to book Nookie for murder.
***
The detectives worked through the night putting the case together. They did interviews, wrote reports, got a few hours of sleep, and the next day were right back at it. There was a lot of work to do in order to find out who else had been involved in the murder.
They contacted their informant, and although they couldn’t use him court, he painted a picture for them, including who did the shooting. It was an informant who helped them as it always was. The people in the community were afraid to get involved as witnesses or to give information. Doing so could cost them their lives. Their informant laid everything out. Pot, Nookie, a Tree Top nicknamed “Slug,” and Q-Ball had committed the murder. The .380 caliber handgun belonged to Nookie. He’d been accidentally shot in the hand by Q-Ball during the incident on Compton Boulevard. The 9mm and .45 caliber handguns that were used in the murder had been given to a Tree Top Piru nicknamed “Pooh” afterwards. The murder vehicle belonged to a Tree Top who went by the nickname “8-Ball.” It was a four-door yellow Plymouth with one white door. Thanks to their confidential informant, Tim and Bob now had the names of all the players involved.
Now they had to prove it.
***
They prepared two search warrants for Pooh’s locations and served them the next day. Cocaine that was intended to be sold in the streets was seized, but no guns were recovered, just a 9mm magazine with bullets.
Tim and Bob were hoping to squeeze Pooh for information about the murder, banking on him not wanting to go back to jail for the drugs they’d found. Their instincts were right. Pooh was willing to talk.
Over the next couple of days they saw 8-Ball driving around the city in the yellow Plymouth with the white door, but they left him alone. They had a bigger plan that including hitting his house with a search warrant.
On the 23rd, five days after the murder, Tim and Bob received information that Compton hip-hop star DJ Quik would be doing a concert at Centennial High School. Quik was a Tree Top Piru, so they knew all the Tree Top Pirus would be there to represent.
Around nine that night, Tim and Bob went to Centennial High. As expected, the place was packed. They located 8-Ball’s yellow Plymouth in the parking lot. They snuck up to the car and looked inside, hoping to spot blood from Nookie’s injured hand. Sure enough, it was there. Blood was in several places - on the driver’s headrest, the rear left door handle, the armrest, and the window.
The information Pooh had given them about the murder was enough to write a thirteen-location search warrant on Tree Top Piru members. Within two weeks, they prepared it and served it.
Multi-location warrants were how Tim and Bob were often able to slow down gang activity or stop it altogether, at least for a while. With the help of other officers, they would hit all the locations at once, in the early morning hours, cart the gang members off to jail for being in illegal possession of guns and drugs, then try to get them to roll over on themselves. This was a proven method, one that consistently worked. Catching them off guard this way - dirty, before they had a chance to hide whatever drugs and weapons they had on hand - was often the only way to get them to talk. It put them in an unfortunate position, and they would be more open to bargaining their way out.
They netted a cache of assault weapons and drugs from the multi-location hit on the Tree Tops, and recovered 8-Ball’s yellow Plymouth with the blood inside. They also recovered the 9mm and .45 caliber handguns used in the murder. It was a big blow to the Tree Top Pirus. It would be a while before the gang recovered.
***
Tim and Bob were able to get several Tree Top gang members who were present the night of the murder to tell what happened. They gathered enough statements and evidence to file charges on all four Tree Top Piru gang members - Pot, Q-Ball, Slug, and Nookie. The detectives even testified in court using information told to them by the Tree Top members who’d talked.
Pot, Q-Ball, Slug, and Nookie were ultimately convicted of murder. Several other Tree Top Pirus were charged with accessory after the fact and pleaded guilty. These convictions nearly destroyed the gang, with things worsened by several of their members being seen as snitches.
Pot, the shot caller, had been put away. Tim and Bob felt bad about that because they liked him so much, but these convictions had been a huge success for the gang unit and Compton P.D.’s reputation. Such was the fine line Tim and Bob walked with the relationships they developed in the streets. Despite their feelings, they had to do their job. Pot understood that, just as they’d understood that he felt he had to avenge his brother’s death.
Pot was at peace with the way everything had gone down. He understood that negative repercussions for his actions were a strong possibility, but he’d been willing to pay the price.
Both sides - law enforcement and a grief-stricken gang member with retaliation on his mind - had been determined to see their brand of justice served. In this case, they each did just that.
***
The gang unit had two more officers assigned to the unit now - Eddie Aguirre and Ray Richardson - which was a tremendous help to Tim and Bob. With their assistance, the Compton gang unit was doing incredible work, solving one murder after another. They were able to take down more gangs, major ones, with their multi-location search warrant technique. The caches of weapons seized from these search warrants proved newsworthy almost every time they did one.
Their informants were well-planted, spread out over Compton. There was hardly a shooting or murder that happened in the city where the gang unit didn’t know who did it. Knowing who committed the crime and proving it were two different things, but they were aware of who the shooters were and the players calling the shots and did their best to get them off the streets.
Their boss, Reggie gave them the wiggle room to gain informants that most agencies probably wouldn’t have allowed. They would arrest less powerful gang members for guns and drugs, then let them back onto the streets. Those gang members would then owe them favors. Sometimes this didn’t work, but the ones who did return the favor and provide information were often very reliable. If an informant didn’t come through with good information, they would take the informant’s original case to the D.A.’s office, get a warrant, and arrest that informant at a later time.
Word spread on the streets about how the gang unit treated gang members. If they were treated poorly, when it came time to interview them or get information, they wouldn’t cooperate. After years of working with so many gang members, they knew Tim and Bob were fair. They knew the detectives would put them in jail if they had to, but they would also give gang members a break. That went a long way when it came to interviewing hardcore gang members. They were often willing to cooperate because they knew Tim and Bob’s reputation.
***
Tim and Bob were often asked to come up with plans to deal with gang-related problems in the city. One of the biggest that affected Compton’s crime rate and the quality of life for the citizens was the sale of drugs.
One of the ways Tim and Bob combatted this ongoing problem was through reverse stings. Reverse stings were conducted on both the gangs and the buyers.
One day, they took the undercover van to take down members of the Tortilla Flats gang who were out on the streets selling drugs. The gang’s main hangout were apartments on the north side of Magnolia Street, just west of Acacia. The plan was to sit in the van, watch them sell, then arrest the buyers as they drove away. A videocamera inside the van recorded these transactions. There were four marked units nearby to take down the buyers after they purchased.
Inside the van, as one of them filmed, the other broadcast descriptions of the buyers’ vehicles and the directions they were traveling to the marked units. The van was backed in a driveway on Acacia and Magnolia with a clear view of the drug transactions. Usually four or five Tortilla Flats gang members hung out in front of the apartment complex.
That day, a small tan vehicle driving south on Acacia stopped at the intersection at Magnolia. The car stopped directly behind the van, blocking its view. Two Latino males who looked to be gang members were inside. Tim and Bob were looking out of the rear windows and Tim put the camera down.
“What the fuck are these guys doing?” he said. “I can’t see shit.”
At that moment, the passenger in the tan car pointed an AK-47 out of the window and started shooting. Several loud rounds were fired.
Tim and Bob were both startled. “Shots fired!” Bob shouted into the radio mic. “Just had a drive-by!”
Tortilla Flats gang members being arrested by Compton P.D.
Bob gave the description of the car, but the takedown units had heard the shots and were already on the way. As soon as the car headed south toward Compton Boulevard, the takedown units were on it. They arrested the suspects and recovered the weapon. The suspects were from Locos Trece, a rival of the Tortilla Flats. No one had been hit by gunfire, but the shooters were startled at how they’d been captured so quickly.
***
Months later, they were back in the undercover van doing another reverse sting, this time at the 300 block of Magnolia. It was the middle of summer and unbearably hot inside the van. Two other officers, Bruce Frailich and Fred Reynolds, were in the van assisting Tim and Bob.
This time, when the buyers pulled off after making their purchases, they were intercepted by marked vehicles at either Oleander or Acacia Street.
“An ice-cold beer would be good right now,” someone said.
“You motherfuckers want some beer,” Fred Reynolds replied. “I’ll get you some beer.”
Fred Reynolds was a great cop. He was a Black guy from Detroit, light-complexioned and funny, big and stocky with a good head on his shoulders. He wore glasses and was a self-professed ladies’ man. When he said he could get the guys some beer, they went in on him, disputing his words. Fred was determined to prove them wrong.
He got on the phone with his girlfriend, sweet-talking her into bringing the beer.
The guys laughed.
“You’re so full of shit.”
Fred hung up the phone with a broad smile.
“Just you motherfuckers wait.”
Fifteen minutes later, Fred’s phone rang. Fred opened the door as his girlfriend walked up to the van. She handed him a brown bag full of the Coronas and left.
The guys all burst into laughter.
Fred tossed each of the guys a bottle of ice-cold beer. He looked in the bag.
“That bitch didn’t bring us any limes.”
The guys thought he was joking. He wasn’t. Reynolds called his girlfriend again.
“We need some limes.”
Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the van door. There was Fred's girlfriend with a bag full of limes. She handed them to him and left.
The guys laughed hysterically.
“Fred, you’re the man!”
***
Five minutes later, they were guzzling down Coronas.
“Looks like we have a customer,” Bruce said. Someone was coming to buy drugs. Bruce radioed a description of the buyer’s car. Inside was an older Black male.
The van was facing eastbound against the south curb line. The buyer’s car headed westbound on Magnolia.
Just before buyer’s car arrived at Oleander, a takedown unit pulled up and blocked it from moving forward. The car slammed on the brakes and came to a stop. The driver threw the car into reverse, taking off at high speed. The car was speeding toward the van, fishtailing and swerving to the side. It lost control and slammed into the undercover van doing 40 mph.
The guys inside the van went flying. So did the beer.
While the suspect was immediately taken into custody, Tim, Bob, Fred, and Bruce hopped out, checking out the damage. The van was fucked up. Beer was everywhere. Jeff Nussman, the sergeant in charge of the narcotics unit was already in route. The guys were trying to figure out what to do. They’d been drinking on the job. How were they going to hide it?
They spotted a crackhead pushing a shopping cart.
“Hey! You want some bottles?”
The man came over.
“We need you to get these bottles of beer out of here as quick as you can.”
The man gathered the beer and left, happy. Sergeant Nussman pulled up just as the guy was pushing his cart away.
The guys were in a faux-panic. They reeked of Coronas. They all kept their distance as Sergeant Nussman shook his head, looking at the damaged van.
The guys tried to contain their laughter, still processing what had just happened.
It was still hot and, once again, they were clean out of beer.