Date: Wed, 23 Aug 2000 19:58:46 MDT
From: Daniel Lund <rimshotsplanet@hotmail.com>
Subject: Paper Tiger 3

I'm very sorry to have been so long getting this one ready, but as you all
know, summer is vacation time.  For some reason, Planetaccess.com has
ceased to exist, so I have a new email account at Hotmail.com.  If you've
sent me messages in the last 4-5 weeks, I didn't get them, and haven't been
able to respond.  The new email is right below.

Thanks,
Dan
Rimshotsplanet@hotmail.com


Paper Tiger 3:  A prelude to war


	Anthony Salieri leaned his enormous bulk back into the high backed
leather chair at his desk and exhaled pungent cigar smoke.  His heavy jowls
and small eyes peered menacingly out at the men assembled in his office.
"Almost don't mean a fucking thing, boys.  We almost stopped Rivera from
buying that resort, and we almost stopped the family from losing almost a
hundred million dollars!"  His voice rose to an almost female-pitched
scream, and his fat hand slapped the desk in front of him, causing
everything on it to jump.

	"Now I'll tell you what's going to happen.  Palmerii's will call me
in about thirty minutes, and I will tell Federico Palmerii that we are
dealing with the problem.  "Little Tony pointed at his trusted right hand
man, Benny Carlins.  "Benny, you take some boys to Mexico.  Find out who's
doing the work on Buena Point.  Make as much trouble as you can."  He
pointed at the next man in line and narrowed his eyes.  "I want every
person in Vegas working for Rivera to have as much trouble getting shit
done as possible, got it?"

	"Yeah, Tony."  The man nodded, and the two of them turned to leave.
Tony turned to the last two men in his office.  The tallest, a muscular man
of almost forty, tall, with silver hair, was known as Scorpio.  The shorter
of the two, just as muscular but only 5'6" tall and about twenty-five,
called him self Cannon.  The first was a hired assassin, the last an arms
expert.

	"You boys, I need you two to find out about this man."  He handed
them a picture of Rocky Rockport.  "Rumor has it the him and the kid that
blew away five of my guys are brothers.  Their good, but I think that we
can use them to throw Manny Rivera off guard.  I want to know everything
about them.  Where they eat, where they shit, if their seeing any broads,
the whole goddamn thing, got it?"  They nodded silently, and Tony laced his
fingers over his stomach.  "Good.  I also want a plan to eliminate one or
both of them."

	Tyler wiped his hand across his face, pulling it out of shape and
releasing his cheeks.  His hands shook, and he pushed the clammy sheets
away, now wide-awake.  In the dream he'd just had, he was in the hallway of
McAuliffe's mansion, only he'd been sitting on the floor cradling Rocky's
dead body.  Rocky's chest had been riddled with bullet holes.

	Tyler looked at the alarm clock and shook his head in disgust.  It
was 4:45 am, and like it or not, he was up for the day.  He headed for the
shower, but on second thought grabbed his swimming suit and pulled it on,
threw on some sandals, and grabbed a towel.  It was unlikely that he would
meet anyone before he got in the water, but just in case he stopped and wet
his matted hair down and combed it.

	The elevator deposited him at the roof level, and he made his way
through the dressing room and showers.  Splashing sounds emanated from the
open door, and Tyler was surprised to walk out and find Manny swimming
laps.  For a minute he considered going back to the apartment, preferring
to be alone, but it would be rude to leave just because Manny was there.
With a sigh, he put his towel over the back of a lounger and kicked off his
sandals.

	"Good morning, Tiger!"  Manny's voice boomed from the other end of
the pool.  "I had no idea you were an early riser.  It's good for you,
isn't it?"

	Tyler looked at the athletically built older man and smiled
lopsidedly.  "Uh, actually I couldn't sleep."  He walked down the steps
into the pool and stretched out and paddled towards Manny.

	"You're having trouble with what happened at McAuliffe's, huh?"
Manny pushed himself out to sit on the edge of the pool.  "Carlos said that
it hit you hard.  You know, you can't let it eat you up, Tyler."

	Tyler slid up to the side and hooked his elbow over the lip.  "I
know it's stupid, but I can't stop thinking about it.  I never killed
anyone before.  It's like going crazy."

	"Listen to me, El Tigre'," Manny leaned forward on his knees.  "If
you ever like killing, I will make sure that you disappear.  I don't employ
murderers.  I employ men like you and Rocky to protect me and my family
from murderers, do you understand?"  Tyler nodded, and Manny continued.
"Not so many years ago, I was doing what you are now.  I had to kill a man
to protect my father, and it made me sick and uncertain.  My father told me
this.  If you murder a man, God will burn you in hell.  If you save a life,
you sit with God.  Morgan Larsen said to me that he has heard the roar of
the Tiger, and that he has seen the Tiger fight.  You've shown a great
honor to this family, Tyler.  There is no reason to feel shame or guilt."

	Tyler looked down in to the water, taken with how accurate Manny
was.  He nodded his head and looked up at Manny.  "It's hard, though.  I
have nightmares about it."

	"They will continue until you reconcile you feelings, kiddo.  All I
can tell you is that you did the right thing, and that you'll more than
likely do it again for the same reasons."  Manny sat back and leaned on his
hands.  "I have an idea for you, though.  When I can't figure the future
out, I go look at the past and see where I am.  Why don't you take one of
the cars and drive back to your old stomping grounds?"

	"Does it help?"  Tyler pushed himself up onto the side and leaned
back on his hands.

	"Does for me.  I grew up in L.A. in a neighborhood that is a battle
zone.  I'm not saying I'm a saint, Tiger, but I don't kill unless I have to
protect a life, and I won't get into the drug trade.  Most of the dealers
in this area pay us to leave them alone because they know I would kill them
all if I wanted to."

	"So it's like a series of bigger and smaller evils, huh?"  Tyler
ground that over in his mind, starting to see sense.

	"Yeah, that's right."  Manny smiled and put his hand on Tyler's
shoulder.  "Morgan may not be squeaky clean, but you saved his life.  He
never murdered anyone.  Neither did McAuliffe, God rest him.  Tony on the
other hand, he's a snake.  No honor at all.  I think soon I'll need an army
to beat Little Tony."

	"Will he retaliate?"  Tyler asked.

	Manny sighed and nodded his head.  "I don't know where or when, but
he will."  He slid back into the water.  "You let me worry about that,
Tiger.  You just keep my family and associates safe for me, okay?"  He held
out his hand and took Tyler's and shook it.  "That's all I ask."

	"Yes, sir."  Tyler smiled and shook hands.  He felt better, and he
definitely had more respect for his employer.  He slid into the water as
well.  "Thanks Manny."

	"You're a good kid, Tyler, you just need to keep it in perspective.
How about some laps?"  Manny pushed off for the end of the pool.

	"Then maybe some breakfast."  Tyler followed, stroking towards the
end of the pool.

	At a few minutes to seven, Tyler let himself in the front door of
the apartment and tossed his towel towards his room, kicked off his
sandals, and then jogged into Rocky's room.
  Rocky was still asleep, and barely opened his eyes in time to see Tyler
in mid-flight, leaping from the end of the bed to land on top of Rocky.
"Oh, shit!"  He squawked, deflecting Tyler to the side.

	"I can't believe you're still asleep!"  Tyler laughed and straddled
Rocky's waist and lay down on his chest, putting their faces only inches
away.  Rocky's arms came up around his back, and he pushed forward and
kissed Rocky on the lips.  "Those pain pills fuck you up, don't they?"

	"Yeah, they do."  Rocky ran his hand over the side of Tyler's face.
"You're obviously feeling better today.  I thought we were going to have to
find you a shrink."  Rocky had been concerned about Tyler's depression, but
hadn't said anything.  Ever since they'd gotten back from California, Tyler
wouldn't eat and spoke only in monosyllables.  Hopefully that was over now.

	"When does Brian get here to change your bandages?"  Tyler asked,
rolling off Rocky onto the bed.  Rocky had taken a minor graze wound near
his knee in California, which had become very infected and had put him on a
cane for the last week.

	"In an hour.  Why?"  Rocky scratched his head, then jumped as he
felt Tyler's hand under the covers.

	"I thought I could help him out with your motion exercises today."
Tyler grinned like a wolf and slid the covers down.  Rocky slept nude, and
the kid pulled the sheet off the bed, "I got my exercise with Manny
swimming laps.  You don't have that option."  Before Rocky could say a
word, Tyler leaned down and took Rocky's rapidly hardening pole into his
mouth.  Rocky grunted and rested his head back on the pillow.

	Tyler was like a demon, working with his hands and mouth in rapidly
changing rhythms until Rocky's extremely muscular body was shaking from the
exertion it took to not shook immediately.  Tyler stopped and grinned
again, then stood up by the side of the bed and peeled of his damp suit.
"Best part, boss."  He said quietly, running his hands over his own stomach
and chest, then making himself hard in a private floorshow.

	Rocky couldn't help but notice how much Tyler had filled out in the
month and a half since they'd met.  The skinny but defined young boy was
not becoming the cut and sculpted young man right before his eyes, and he
rolled on to his side and grabbed Tyler's wrist, pulling him down for a
long deep kiss.

	Tyler pulled a drawer open in the nightstand next to the bed and
pulled out a tube of lube gel.  While still kissing Rocky, he put some in
his hand and began to massage it on to Rocky's now eight-inch hard cock.
Satisfied that it was slick enough, he straddled Rocky again, never
breaking the kiss, and backed himself slowly onto his lover's shaft.

	"Oh, God."  Rocky mumbled as the tight warmth of Tyler enveloped
him.

	"No, Tyler."  Tyler whispered and began to slide slowly back and
forth.  "God's taller and has a beard."  The feeling of Rocky's length
sliding in and finding his magic spot, then sliding slowly out to start
again caused Tyler to get distracted.  Rocky's hand, slick with lube,
wrapped around his own pole, and Tyler closed his eyes and leaned on his
hands, almost purring.

	"Here it comes."  Rocky groaned, thrusting his hips up to meet
Tyler's ass.
  Unintentionally, he quickened his pace on Tyler, causing the kid to grit
his teeth, trying not to cum to fast.  Their breathing almost synchronized,
each trying to stop the inevitable for as long as they could.  Rocky
groaned as he felt the pressure build, and he tightened his abs, trying to
hold it in.

	Tyler's breathing became ragged, and he tightened his grip on
Rocky, feeling him shiver.  He closed his eyes and arched his back, sending
torrents of fluids out onto Rocky's chest.  "Aaagh!"  He groaned, and Rocky
bucked under him, filling him with warm stickiness.  Tyler collapsed
forward on to Rocky, his juices spreading between them.

	"You're trying to kill me."  Rocky gasped, running his hand through
Tyler's sweat matted hair.  "Before you showed up, I think I was only
pretending to cum."

	"I know I was."  Tyler mumbled, resting his head on Rocky's
shoulder.  "Making love to you isn't sex, it's like going to church and
worshiping the perfect experience."

	Rocky laughed and kissed Tyler's forehead.  "Help me get up, hero.
Brian will be here pretty quick."  The kid groaned and whined as he slid
off, and Rocky caught a whiff of their remains.  "Oh, man.  Take the sheets
off the bed, will you?  We made a big stink."

	"I actually thought it smelled cool."  Tyler favored him with a
sultry glare.  He stood up and walked around the bed to help Rocky up,
taking a second to be awed by his beautiful physique, then helped him limp
to the shower.  After Rocky got in, he dashed around the room cleaning up
clothes and putting them in the hamper, then put fresh sheets on the bed
and made it up.

	When he finished, he trotted to his room, scooping up his suit and
sandals as he went, and jumped in the shower.  With lightening speed he
washed, rinsed, and jumped out to dry off, stopping to check the stitches
on his left hip.  They had finally dissolved somewhat, and he tugged them
out and tossed them in the toilet.  He glanced at the dot-like scars on his
shoulder and was satisfied that they had healed; although Rocky teased him
about playing connect the dots.

	Still dashing around in a hurry, he pulled on a pair of bikinis and
some black cargo shorts, then took a sleeveless silver muscle shirt with a
high neck out and tugged it on.
  He jammed his pistol into the pocket, slipped on his sandals, and was
putting his hair back in a tail as he came out of his room, nearly
colliding with Brian.

	"Wow, what's the hurry, Ty?"  Brian laughed, catching himself on
the couch.

	"Oh, God!  I'm sorry, Brian.  I was trying to get ready so I could
help Rocky before I leave."  Tyler's face flushed deep red.  "I didn't here
you come in."

	"It's okay.  I just hollered in to Rock, and he said he's fine."
Brian sat down at the table and crossed his legs.  "I have to take him down
to the clinic, so he might be out for awhile."

	"Okay, cool."  Tyler headed for the door.  "See you around, Doc."
He waved and let himself out.  He took the elevator to the family garage
and picked up a set of keys from the attendant, a nice Mexican kid that did
a lot of odd jobs for the Riveras.

	"Hey, man.  Mr. R says to take this one to the shop.  They give you
another one to drive."  He handed Tyler a slip of paper with an address on
it.  "He also says have a good time."  The boy smiled at Tyler and offered
a mock salute.

	"Thanks, Ronny."  Tyler loped across the garage to the car, a Ford
Taurus, and climbed in.  It was a grandma car, but maybe they would give
him something better at the garage.
  He wanted to impress his old friends.  Traffic was light as he pulled
out, and it only took about twenty minutes to reach the garage.

	The building was a huge warehouse type of structure, with windows
running around the top of the wall, just below the roof.  Paint peeled of
the bricks, and weeds grew out of cracks in the concrete.  Tyler seriously
considered calling in and seeing if Ronny had been leading him on.

	The roll up door closest to the small office door suddenly rolled
up, and Tyler jumped.  A short heavyset man in his fifties waddled out
carrying a tire and through it onto a pile.  He cursed in Spanish and
gestured at someone in the shop, then noticed Tyler standing there.  "Ah,
you're El Tigre, eh?"  The man's face transformed into a smile.  "I was
wondering where you are."

	"Ronny told me to bring this car down to you, and to pick one up."
Tyler shook the man's hand, liking him already for some reason.

	"Come inside, El Tigre, and tell me what you do for Manny that
would make him so happy with you."  The man waved his hand towards the
door.  "I'm Berto Guiterez."

	"Tyler Rockport."  Tyler followed him into the shop, impressed with
its cleanliness, a stark contrast to the outside.

	"So, Tyler," Berto walked into the office and sat down, offering
Tyler a seat, then put his feet up on the desk, taking out a bandana and
wiping his forehead.  "Rumor has it that you are one mean son of a bitch in
a fight."

	"Manny's pretty free with the praise, I think."  Tyler leaned back
in his chair and crossed his legs.

	"Not the Manny Rivera I know.  You don't impress him easily at
all."  Berto took to sodas out of a small fridge and tossed one to Tyler.
"He's a demanding prick, but the most loyal man I ever met."

	"He's been decent to me.  They all have."  Tyler cracked open the
tab on the can and sipped at it.

	"You know why you're here, Tiger Rockport?"  Berto asked, catching
Tyler in a penetrating gaze.

	"To service the car?"

	Berto laughed and leaned forward.  "Manny didn't send you here to
pick up any car.  He sent you here to pick one for yourself."

	Tyler knew that he had a stupid look on his face, and he was also
aware that his jaw was hanging open.  He couldn't do anything about either
problem for the few seconds it took to process this information.  "Manny's
giving me a car?"  He tried not to sound to incredulous, but it was hard to
help.

	"He likes to keep his hired help bought.  Not just any car, either.
A third row car."  Berto smiled, enjoying the kid's discomfort.

	"What does that mean?"  Tyler asked, confused.

	"Come on, I'll show you."  Berto heaved himself up out of his chair
and clapped Tyler on the back.  "I can see what Manny likes about you.
You're pretty straight forward, aren't you?"

	Tyler thought for a second about what he had done with Rocky not
even an hour ago and laughed.  "Yeah, I guess so."  They walked through the
shop towards a large red roll up door.  Tyler watched as Berto put in a
security code on a little keypad, and the door started up.

	"In here, there are three rows of cars.  The first row is fast, but
not well armored, or not armored at all."  He led Tyler into the vast
cavern and pointed at the rows.  "The second row in armored, but not very
heavy, and has been worked over for speed and handling."  He led Tyler to
the last row.  "And these are heavily armored, faster than hell, and will
turn on a dime."  Berto smiled at the boy.  "You can have anything in here
you want."

	"You're shitting me."  Tyler blushed; looking at the cars and
feeling his imagination go wild.  There were Corvettes, Firebirds, Camaros,
Trucks, Mustangs, a Viper, and numerous others.

	"That's what the man said.  Nothing but the best for El Tigre.  The
last time he called me like that, your Partner came down and got that
Mustang he's so proud of."  Berto leaned against a Cadillac and wiped a
smudge off the fender.

	"Any one I want?"  Tyler chuckled.  Berto nodded, and Tyler walked
down the open area between them.  His head reeled.  It was so overwhelming.
He knew Manny was generous, but damn.  It took almost an hour to decide,
and he followed Berto to the office after test-driving several of the
vehicles.  He settled on a fairly new Chevy Blazer, dark blue, with the
windows darkened.  The interior was gray leather, and it had all kinds of
toys, including a ten-disc cd changer.  He knew he had to have it when he
matted the gas, and the truck took off like it was going into hyperspace,
but didn't sway when he cut a sharp corner.  It was perfect.

	"Here's the paperwork to take to the office in the Palace."  The
old man handed Tyler a packet.  "Make sure they get it by tomorrow, got
it?"

	"Yeah, thanks, Berto."  Tyler shook the man's hand.

	"You come by now and then, El Tigre.  I want to hear these war
stories from you."  Berto smiled and followed the kid out to the Blazer.
"And don't beat up that truck.  I did most of the work on that one."

	"OH, I'll be so careful, man, you have no idea."  Tyler flashed a
grin and climbed in, buckling himself up.  He waved, then started the
engine, reveling in its deep purr.  An electric thrill shivered up his
spine as he pulled out onto the road.

	It took about forty minutes to get across town to his old
neighborhood, and he'd gotten approving looks from several women, and even
some begrudging looks from guys.  It was hard not to be arrogant as he
began to recognize his whereabouts.  The places he used to go and hang out.

	There was an old grocery store, now a mini-mart, where he and his
friends used to go.  He pulled up a half a block away from it and got out,
locking his baby and setting the alarm.  Several kids whose faces he barely
recognized sat out in yards and on porches, watching him walk towards the
store.  He was suddenly glad he was armed.

	As he approached, he heard a familiar voice yelling from inside the
store, and an older deeper voice shouting back.  Tyler stepped over to the
side of the building quickly, listening to the exchange.  A skinny kid in a
black t-shirt and worn denim shorts burst out of the store and pounded up
the sidewalk.  Tyler reached out and grabbed the kid's shirt and hauled him
to the side, throwing him against the wall.

	Two gang-bangers came out of the store to give chase.  The first
one rounded the corner of the building and caught Tyler's foot in his face,
a vicious kick.  He crumpled and sank to his knees.  The second saw what
happened and reached behind his back, producing a pistol.

	Tyler spun and kicked, taking the pistol out of the guy's hand,
then smashed his palm into the guy's nose, feeling it shatter.  He reached
back and grabbed the skinny kid's arm.  "C'mon!"  He commanded, heading for
the truck.  Across the street, other bangers were running towards them.

	"Get in!"  Tyler shouted, opening the locks with the key chain.
They jumped up into the truck, and Tyler spun the wheels just as the gang
was getting close.  He saw one binger's eyes go wide as he narrowly missed
him with the bumper, then floored it, feeling the truck spring forward.

	He glanced in the mirror and laughed, seeing the guys, flipping him
off and throwing stuff.  "That was fucking sweet, wasn't it?"  He looked
over at Darren Calden, his one time best friend, and saw a pail white face
staring back at him.  "What's the matter, Darren?  Didn't you miss me?"

	Darren shivered and swallowed hard.  "Yeah, Tyler, I did."  Being
catholic, he crossed himself.

	"Are you okay?"  Tyler asked, concerned.  He couldn't figure out
why Darren would act so tweaked out.  "What's wrong?"

	"I'm just kind of surprised to see you."  Tentatively, he reached
out and touched Tyler's arm, fighting the urge to recoil when he found it
to be solid, not a ghost.  He looked up into Tyler's eyes and leaned back
in the seat.  "I thought you were dead, Ty.  I went to your funeral."

	"My funeral?  Don't they usually need a body for that?"  Tyler
turned the Blazer off on a side street and pulled over so he could look at
Darren.

	"I watched them pull you out of the dam, Tyler.  I swear to God, it
was you."  Darren shivered again, fighting the urge to jump out and run.
The hair on his neck stood up, and his back tensed up.

	"Well I'm obviously not dead, bud.  You touched me."  He shut off
the truck and pocketed the keys.  "Lets go sit in the park.  I'll tell you
what's up, 'kay?"

	An hour later, near the end of the tale about San Diego, Darren was
laughing and swiping tears out of his eyes.  Tyler told him about the
second wound on his ass, and Darren fell over holding his sides.  "Fuck
you, dip shit.  It hurt."  Tyler shoved his friend back onto the grass
again, pleased that he wasn't afraid any more.  After the laughs subsided,
Tyler took a smoke offered by Darren and let him light it.  "So what's
happened around here?"  He asked, blowing smoke into the air.  "What's the
deal with those bangers?"

	Darren swore and put his arms around his knees.  "Those fuckers are
trying to turn this place into a fucking war zone, man.  They're set up
with some big time gang, and they threaten everybody with guns and shit.  I
hate the bastards."  He took a drag from the cigarette and exhaled
forcefully.  "You remember the kid that lived next to me, the geeky kid
that always followed us around?
  They stuck him, man, with a knife about that long."  He held up his
fingers about a foot a part.  "They was hassling his little sister, and
Kyle tried to stop them.  He's dead."

	"Our old gang still around?"  Tyler asked, referring to the group
of friends they had in common.  Darren nodded, and Tyler narrowed his eyes,
thinking over some options.  "They all think I'm dead?"  Darren nodded
again.  "Good.  If you guys want to fix this problem, I can help, but I
need to talk to somebody first."

	"What've you got in mind?"  Darren asked, stubbing his smoke out.
A strange look went over Tyler's face, almost frightening.

	"If they want a fucking war, I'll give 'em a war, but I'll take out
the generals first."  Tyler looked at his old friend and smiled.  "I guess
a tiger's work is never done."

	"A tiger?"

	Tyler laughed.  "Yeah.  Manny Rivera calls me El Tigre.  The
Tiger."

	Darren chuckled.  "Dude, I saw this all time awesome tattoo pattern
with a tiger on it.  It was so cool!"

	Tyler blinked a couple of times, a grin coming to his face.  "Where
exactly was this tattoo place?"

	"Down by the strip.  Why?"

	Tyler stood up and pulled Darren to his feet.  "Gotta be anywhere,
Darren?"

	"No."

	"Let's go for a ride."

	About two hours later, Darren walked in through the front door of
the tattoo parlor and handed Tyler a coke.  Tyler sat in a sort of half
barber chair, half medical gurney, bare chested, and watched the artist
move his ink gun over the pattern on Tyler's right shoulder.  It was a sort
of cartoon tiger, heavily muscled, with sunglasses on and holding a pistol
in its hand.  The picture was enclosed in a black circle about three inches
across.  Tyler loved it, because the tiger looked totally arrogant.

	"Is it done?"  Darren asked and plopped into the next chair.

	"Damned close.  I took a little extra time.  Don't see many members
of the palace guard down here."  The artist, a man about forty, shaved
head, and covered in tattoos, looked up as Tyler winced.  "Hang in there,
man, we're about to have lift off."

	"What do you mean, palace guard?"  Tyler asked, then gritted his
teeth as the needles found a nerve.  There had been a lot more blood than
he expected, and he'd sent Darren for a coke to help with a little nausea.

	"The plates on your truck, man.  You work for Rivera?"  Tyler
nodded, and the man continued.  "His boys have kept a lot of scumbags out
of here, you know?  Doesn't charge nothin' either.  Good guy."

	"I think so."  Tyler stood up as the man finished and inspected his
handy work.  "Fucking cool, man, fucking cool."

	"I'm next."  Darren jumped into the seat and whipped his shirt off.

	"You want one too?"  Tyler asked with a smile.

	"Fuck yeah."  He looked at the artist.  "I want exactly what he
got, but that next size smaller.  Underneath it, I want you to put 'Tiger's
Army', okay?"

	The artist looked up at Tyler and offered a lopsided grin.  "I can
do that."  He winked, then set to work on Darren's shoulder.  "Always good
to have a posse, ain't it?"

	Tyler shook his head in wonder.  "Yeah it is."