by Samson Weld
I need to check to see if we have any evidence about that money.
“Osorio and I are partners in finding this vigilante, my friend,” Sokolov said. “Call him. Ask. I can wait.”
Cagle did. He pulled his phone, turning away from the Russian while he spoke in hushed tones which Bellucci couldn’t hear either. Yet, it was clear as day that her partner was speaking to Osorio.
It simply knocked the wind out of her sails. Such sadness washed through her. But anger quickly filled her.
Damn dirty cop, she thought. This changes everything. I’m on my own now.
“Okay, Sokolov, Osorio said I can work with you,” Cagle said. “What is it you want?”
“Give me the name and address of the vigilante and I’ll take it from there.”
“His name is Ashley Wexler, but that’s all the information we have so far,” Cagle replied. “Otherwise, I’d be arresting him right now and not be out on a coffee run.”
“You keep me advised, my friend,” Sokolov said. “I want to know the moment you get his address.” When Cagle started to balk, the Russian pressed closer, speaking more menacingly. “You work for me, now, Cagle. You will do as you’re told, or suffer the consequences. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, sure, but I’m not cheap, Sokolov,” Cagle said. “Do you understand?”
The Russian smiled, nodding. Bellucci’s heart hammered, her emotions out of control. She wanted to arrest them both immediately. She wanted to shoot them both. Cagle’s betrayal felt awfully personal.
I have to warn Wexler… What am I thinking? she thought. I have to figure this out before…
“The vigilante must be stopped. Permanently,” Sokolov said. “We don’t want a trial, either. Uncomfortable information might be revealed. Do you understand?”
“I do,” Cagle said, smiling. “It costs extra for a suspect to die while resisting arrest.”
Chapter 33
It was turning out to be a terrible day.
Ash stared at the front gate of Osorio’s ranch from a patch of woods. He showed up before sunrise, but other than Osorio’s usual early morning arrivals, there wasn’t anything going down to indicate that those bastards had gotten hit hard, twice, the previous day.
Laying on his belly, wearing brown camo to blend into the winter ground cover, he had a good view of both the front gate and the big house on the hill behind it. Osorio’s usual three black Cadillac Escalades had been brought out of the garage and parked in the circular drive outside his front door. Past experience showed that it didn’t mean anything.
Ash hadn’t seen a single person in front of that house in the past two hours. He’d also run his phone battery down considerably checking his hidden camera app to watch the back of the house. He started to worry it was a bust.
Why wasn’t Osorio more upset? Why wasn’t he hitting the road early to look for the man attacking him? Had Ash misjudged the whole thing?
Maybe it’s good news. Where is he going to go without any information as to who I am?
Putting the binoculars down, Ash paused to blow hot air into his gloves. It proved cold as hell without any activity. His insulated underwear and gloves could only do so much. He needed to get up and move around to generate some heat, but any movement increased the chance of being spotted.
His AR-15 lay beside him, now covered in hoarfrost. He’d attached the bump stock, too. Ash was sure that Osorio and his men would attack with automatic weapons if they discovered him there, so he had to be able to match their firepower. The AR-15 probably had a greater range than any concealable automatic weapons his enemies’ might carry.
Ash also wore his shoulder holsters, a pair of Glocks snuggly under his arms if needed. He’d brought a lot of spare magazines for both the pistols and AR-15. Just in case.
His phone began to vibrate. Ash quickly dug it out and stared at the screen. Unknown cell phone was displayed. He answered.
“Hello?”
“Is this Ash Wexler?” a vaguely familiar female voice asked.
His first thought was the nurse, Deanna. The thought made him feel both good, and worried. She was too sweet, too good, to drag into his ugly world of vengeance and death.
“Who’s asking?”
That ought to cool her jets. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but…
“Good morning, Mr. Wexler,” she said. “I’m Detective Anna Bellucci. We spoke at Starbucks a couple nights ago.”
The blonde cop? She was calling him on his phone? What else did she know about him? She’d already shown up out of nowhere while he was waiting for Rojas to show up, keeping him from killing that vile dirtbag. And now she was calling him out of the blue?
“How did you get this number?”
“I got it from the ER you visited in Addison,” she said. “We have to talk.”
Had he given them this number? Obviously. Dammit, I was more rattled than I thought.
What really rattled him, however? The child showing up in the middle of a hit on the accountant? Collins actually escaping? Or Nurse Deanna at the ER? Probably a combination of all three.
“Hello? Are you still there?”
“I am, but I’m kind of busy at the moment, Detective.”
“Yes, you’ve been quite busy, Mr. Wexler,” she said, not sounding happy.
His mind was running at a mile a minute. For a second, he felt overwhelmed, as if the walls were closing in around him. Maybe they were. The cops were proving a lot more capable than he originally gave them credit for, which could really screw up all his carefully laid plans.
“Your attacks are become more reckless, and therefore more dangerous to innocent bystanders.”
Oh, that hit hard. Did she understand the last thing Ash ever wanted to do was hurt an innocent bystander? He’d been very careful to avoid collateral damage in that respect. Destroying property was okay. Putting innocent people in the crossfire was not.
“Wexler, I need you to turn yourself in,” Bellucci said.
“Funny,” he said, and barked a bitter laugh. “You want to do all the hard work of hunting me down and locking me up just so that Osorio can quickly and easily have me killed in jail? I’m disappointed, Detective. Aren’t you supposed to serve and protect?”
She didn’t answer right away. Her words finally came slow and carefully when she did respond.
“I understand your reluctance to trust the police,” she said. “The system definitely failed you and your family. But is this really the right way? Vigilantism goes against everything America stands for.”
He suppressed his laugh.
“Really? Are we talking about the same America?” Ash asked. “Vigilantism is a big part of our history, Detective. And while I agree that my way might not jell with your cop’s law and order mindset, it does seem to be the only certain way to mete justice in this country.”
“Vigilantism is not justice, sir.”
“I disagree. The judicial system is hell bent on protecting the criminals, so the only true justice is my way. I didn’t make the rules, Detective, but I’ve learned them very painfully. It’s an eye for an eye, fight fire with fire world.”
“Please, turn yourself in, and let the police handle Mr. Osorio,” she said. “You’re not going to get to Osorio. He’s too well-protected and I just learned that the Russian mob is coming after you, too. Save yourself and turn yourself in. I promise, the police will deal with Osorio.”
Wait… the Russians were after him?!
Did his plan to pit Osorio against them backfire? He had no one to blame but himself on that one. Still, it just added to his anger at himself, at his failures.
“I’ve given the police five years to deal with Osorio,” he replied with some heat. “What has happened? Osorio is even richer, more violent than ever, and he’s living the good life. Crime is paying handsomely for him. But if I turn myself in, I’ll die in prison while he continues to live like a king. He kills innocent people while I only target really bad actors. Where’s t
he justice in that scenario, Detective?”
She didn’t have an answer. Ash nodded, knowing there was no argument there.
“I’ll be careful not to involve innocent bystanders, but Osorio must die before I am arrested,” he said. “He cannot get away with all of his crimes, especially not the murder of my wife and children. And that’s all I have to say.”
Ash ended the call and shut down the phone. Then he turned his attention to Osorio’s ranch. God only knew what crimes the son of a bitch was planning up there.
He thought about Detective Bellucci. She seemed like an honest cop. A good cop. Hell, she’d proven her mettle by figuring out who he was and getting his phone number in just over a week.
If he was arrested before killing Osorio, then his life was over. The drug lord wouldn’t have any trouble putting a hit on him. Ash doubted he’d live long enough to go to trial. It was also unlikely they’d let him out on bail.
I’ll be a sitting duck.
“I’ve waited long enough,” Ash said, rising to one knee. “Time to end this, once and for all.”
Chapter 34
There was a chance that Ash would be killed in the next few minutes. It didn’t scare him. He would be dying fulfilling the promise of justice he had made to his wife.
He moved quickly through the woods to his pickup which was parked off the road about a mile away. The Dodge fired up, its big Hemi rumbling in idle. He sat there with the heater on full blast, trying to warm up before he committed himself.
He busied himself by double-checking every magazine. All he had were the AR-15 and the two Glocks. He’d only brought two extra magazines for the pistols, but three for the AR-15. Ash quickly duct taped the three thirty-round magazines into a Y-shape, so he could just flip through them quickly.
I should’ve brought more ammo, he thought. Then he pulled out a picture of Milly and the boys. It’s almost over, baby. Maybe I’ll be joining you today.
Oddly, that didn’t bring him much comfort. It almost felt like he was committing suicide. Yet, he always knew a final showdown was inevitable. He had to see Osorio’s face as he killed him.
“I wonder if he’ll remember me before he dies?”
Once Ash had some feeling back in his hands and feet, he put the pickup in gear and made his way toward Osorio’s front gate. Right off, he passed a Collin County Sheriff patrol car going the other way. He watched the white SUV in his rearview, tensed, and waited for it to do a U-turn and come back after him.
“The heavens smile upon me,” he whispered when the Sheriff Department vehicle vanished around the bend in the road.
A few minutes later, Osorio’s front gate came into view. Ash slowed and turned into the drive, and slowed even further to press up against the elaborate wrought iron gates. They were double gates, about ten feet tall, and swung in to open.
He pressed on the gas, slowly forcing them inward and apart. As soon as the front of the truck completely breached the gates, Ash hit the gas and raced up the long, winding drive.
Men came pouring out the front door. He swerved when they opened fire with pistols. They were behind the three SUVs so he went after them. Ash scattered Osorio’s thugs, forcing them to jump across the hoods or press themselves against the house. Didn’t matter, as long as they stopped shooting.
Ash spun the steering wheel at the last second and sent the pickup crashing through the front doors. Both doors splintered apart, exploding like a cannon shell. He could only imagine what that sounded like inside the house.
“Knock knock, motherfuckers!”
That crash killed the pickup. Ash rushed out with the AR-15 in both hands. Shots rang out from inside the house, smashing the walls behind him. He swung the rifle around to engage two of Osorio’s thugs, firing them up. The bump stock turned the semi-automatic AR-15 into a full auto machinegun.
Pistol fire behind him shattered glass and something hot ripped into the back of his left thigh.
“Ah!”
The pain proved exquisite, but he manned through it and turned on his assailant. A three round burst put the son of a bitch down fast. Running over to the window, he thrust the rifle out and fired up two others.
Angry shouts filled the house. Ash raced toward an open door. He was in the formal dining room so he assumed the door led into the kitchen. And what a kitchen. It made him pause and look around. The chef squatted behind a massive island in his white coat, looking terrified.
“Get out” Ash shouted.
He didn’t have to tell him twice. Osorio’s cook took off running, slid across the top of the dining room table, jumped through the destroyed dining room window, and continued running.
Pap-pap-pap! sounded to Ash’s right.
Time slowed to a crawl as he spun to face his assailant, dropping to one knee and swinging his weapon around. Ash noticed the fool was firing while holding the pistol sideways like on TV and the movies. Idiot. Everyone who knew weapons knew you couldn’t hit shit like that.
Five .223 rounds ripped into the thug’s chest a second later, shredding his heart and lungs as they tumbled and bounced through his body. Then Osorio jumped out into the open behind the dying thug, a MAC-10 in each hand.
Ash dove to the floor, rolling up close to the wall as the kitchen cabinets began exploding apart as round after round slammed into them. Osorio tore that kitchen to pieces, emptying both thirty-round magazines in a matter of seconds.
“Consuelo! Rojas!” Osorio shouted. “I have him pinned down in the kitchen.”
Ash heard two things at once. Men running toward him and the distinct sound of ejecting magazines. This was his opportunity.
He rolled to his feet and charged Osorio. The Mexican gangster threw one of the MAC-10s at Ash before darting through a side door. Ash fired into the door and then sprayed both sides in his desire to kill the evil scumbag.
And then his charging handle locked back.
“Dammit,” he growled, ejecting the triple magazine setup, flipping it to slide the middle magazine in.
He chambered a round as Rojas came charging in. “Osorio, I’m going to kill you!”
But he opened up on Rojas instead. Osorio’s bodyguard darted left and right, avoiding Ash’s shots like a golden child or something.
“Fuck the bursts,” Ash cried, but Rojas reached him before he could open up and empty a magazine into him.
Rojas tried to pistol whip him in the face. Ash lifted the rifle up to block and then slammed the butt into Rojas’ face. Consuelo raced in behind a hail of bullets before Ash could shoot the bodyguard.
Leaping up, Ash slid over the island’s granite countertop, dropping to one knee and out of sight. He listened to Consuelo’s running approach, and then jumped up at the last second to fire at him.
Osorio’s chief lieutenant dove to the floor. Ash turned his weapon on Rojas. The bodyguard was on his feet again, aiming at him.
Ash fired first.
Half a dozen rounds turned Rojas’ chest into hamburger meat. And that magazine was empty.
I’m going through ammo too fast!
If he’d known he’d be attacking like that, Ash would’ve brought more ammunition. Too late for regrets. He dropped behind cover, ejected, and flipped the magazines around to bring the last one into the AR-15. Just thirty rounds left, and then he’d be down to his Glocks.
I should’ve taken the chance and ordered those grenades off that Ukrainian website.
He looked through the dining room and out the window. He could hear the three Escalades idling in the driveway. His pickup was out of commission, but Osorio provided him with an escape vehicle. He just had to reach it without getting pumped full of lead.
“Time to give up, Miss Ashley Wexler,” Osorio shouted. “We have you surrounded and outgunned.”
So Osorio did know who was gunning for him after all. Ash smiled. That knowledge would not save the murderous bastard.
Ash preceded his reply with a five-round burst toward the sound of Osorio’s voice.
“Nyet!” Ash shouted.
Then he fired at Consuelo, before sending another burst toward Osorio. He couldn’t account for all of Osorio’s men, so had to assume others were circling around behind him. It didn’t look good.
Ash took off running into the dining room. The long, heavy dining room table blocked his direct passage to the broken window, forcing him to veer to the left, toward the entry foyer and his crashed pickup.
An Uzi-wielding thug waited in the foyer, but it was just a short dash back to the window. Only Consuelo came racing after him, firing all the way.
He knew he’d never make it to the window and could hear the foyer thug coming from the other direction inside the house. He stopped and moved back toward the passage into the kitchen. Ash swung the rifle, butt stroking Consuelo as he ran into the dining room.
The thug charged in from the foyer before he could dispatch the lieutenant, forcing Ash to duck into the kitchen.
“You are going to die, motherfucker. I’m going to cut you up like a Christmas turkey,” Osorio screamed. Ash grinned. “Then I’m going to cut your head off and send it to the police in a bucket.”
“Oh man, Sokolov won’t like that,” Ash said, using his best Russian accent.
Hey, why not continue to sew doubt in Osorio’s head? Then he stepped back into the door, the AR-15 aimed right at Osorio. The drug lord stopped, gawking at him.
“Dasvidaniya!”
Ash pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He looked down to see the charging handle locked back. Osorio smiled, pointing his pistol at Ash.
Chapter 35
Ash heard men moving up behind him. Their feet crunched on broken glass, pushing furniture out of the way. This was the end.
He glanced around the kitchen, looking for cover and weapons. The island was his only hope for cover, but knew it wasn’t sturdy enough to stop bullets. Pots, cooking utensils, and a raw pork roast were scattered on the floor. He spotted two long knives at his feet.
