Yesterday's Darkness

by Carl Henegan

  Not too many words were spoken after Perez revealed his intentions. Nothing else needed to be said. When Perez spoke it became law and his word was always the final verdict.

  Mike never entertained the thought that Perez was taking care of Garcia for him. This had nothing to do with helping Mike. This assistance derived from nothing less then retribution for an indiscretion that occurred many years before.

  Just like he did in the club, Perez stood and walked away. Mike watched as he ventured back in the direction they had just come from. He faded into the darkness softly whistling Sinatra’s I’ve Got The World on a String. His hands linked behind his back as he strolled along till he disappeared along the path.

  Once Perez vanished out of view Mike continued up the path in the direction he was already headed. A few blocks divided the space from where Mike stood and the more populated area of the river walk path. Just ahead saw the street performers, the well lit shops, and free standing vendor booths.

  He moved along leaning from one side to the other stretching his neck to catch site of Kelly or the boys.

  They were unable to be spotted. The larger crowd had grown to a level far too dense to see through.

  He walked faster till he moved away from the darkened area walking past a clothing store. He glanced through the store window. A few of people shopped inside but his eyes connected with a large man that stood next to a slender brunette. Faint but fleeting recognition triggered something in Mike’s head but he moved on discarding the thought.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  Anna changed into her fifth outfit while X stood outside of her dressing room. Marsha shuffled through a nearby clothing rack pretending to look at the fine apparel. She listened carefully to their conversations gathering even more clues to Garcia’s exact location.

  “Javier, do you think Martin will like the red one or the blue dress better?” Anna said talking from inside of the dressing room.

  “Both are fine,” X offered unenthused.

  “Really I think I might go for both. After that I need to find a bikini. There’s a pool at the hotel right?”

  “Yes, it’s on the roof.”

  “Really? Like right above the floor we are on? Nice, I think I’m gonna skip on the spa, but I don’t want to miss that pool.”

  Marsha moved out the door walking quickly but trying to remain as casual as possible. She took the bits of information she eased dropped on with her. With the exact floor of Garcia’s room she would easily be able to figure out the room. If the swimming pool on the roof was just above the floor of their suite she could find his room in no time. Garcia hours were numbered.

  Details of her spontaneous plan were devised as she rushed out of the store. All she had to do was endure some waiting time inside of the hotel lobby. Once Garcia’s gal pal returned from her shopping spree she would just follow them to their room. With the element of surprise, she felt that she had a big advantage over Garcia.

  Marsha patiently weaved through the crowd. The thick tourist traffic forced her to twist between the moving crowd. Marsha brushed against a muscular man also moving through the crowd.

 

  * * *

  Mike made his way along the sidewalk angling his body through between the bevy of people. This is worst then Memphis on the weekends. Mike’s calmed his nerves after getting bumped into a few times to many by groups of inebriated tourist. His overwrought mood changed as soon as he spotted Kelly standing several feet away among a small crowd of onlookers.

  The crowd’s attention drew to a street performer. The all watched with excited with gleeful expressions as a man dressed in motley attire juggled bowling pins. Danny and his friends stood directly in front of Kelly smiling and pointing at the demonstration.

  Mike smiled at first. Then as he looked on, he felt a chill race across him. There it is again. The ominous chill overcame him as if a dark alignment of events were about to unfold. What the hell? He attributed the sensation to the meeting with Perez.

  “Must have gotten me a little on edge,” he muttered.

  * * *

  On the fifth floor of the Waterfront hotel, Garcia returned to the balcony. With the night vision binoculars placed against his eyes he scanned the area. This time he spotted none other then Michael Andrews through the circular magnified windows. He lifted the two-way radio to his mouth.

  “Get ready,” he said.

  The sniper located on the balcony directly below Garcia pulled the bill of his hat to the back. With his eye peering through the scope, he rested the rifle on the outer edge of the balcony’s wall. Garcia’s voice pushed his already focused stance to the next level.

  He spoke to Garcia through the small microphone attached to his headset. “Focus test is good. Ready when you are. Just say who, and when,” the sniper said.

  “Hold tight. They’ll be in your sight in about two minutes my friend,” Garcia smiled.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

  The domino effect received its first tumble when Marsha spotted Garcia. A steady sequence of cross-connected events unfolded in a span of less then five minutes. Although Garcia didn’t see her, Marsha spotted him from the distance as he stood on the balcony. Actions tumbled faster with an unwavering gain of momentum.

  Marsha observed the entire scene watching every aspect of it play out from her vantage point. Stationed on a balcony at the La Mansion, two men peered through their binoculars semi cloaked by the darkness. Their attention fixed directly across the river walk scanning the balconies of the Watermark Hotel where Garcia and his men stood.

  Garcia pulled out a small set of binoculars. He appeared unaware that he was being watched. But Marsh saw that he was by the men at the hotel directly across from him. Garcia’s binoculars aimed at the sidewalk below as if that was all that mattered to him. Surely he wasn’t people watching. Interesting.

  * * *

  “There you are Mr. Andrews,” Garcia whispered. He rotated his line of sight away from Michael methodically searching the surrounding area. A high level of excitement lifted inside of him now; the moment was so near that he could feel it, taste it.

 

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

  Daniel Perez phone rung but he expected the call. He never broke stride when he answered the call; he already knew who was on the other end.

  “Yes?” he answered.

  “Target spotted,” the sniper replied.

  “Good, hold in place,” Perez replied. “We’re already headed up to get him.”

  Inside of the Watermark’s lobby, Perez approached the elevator with two of his men in tow. Inside of their coats, hidden pockets, and leg straps were enough weapons to launch a small war. Perez walked ahead of the others entering the elevator first. He pressed the button for the fifth floor then waited for the doors to close, the elevator to lift, and put an end to Garcia’s reign.

  The two snipers under Perez’s command remained posted across the street. Their steady fingers suspended over the triggers of their rifles with their scopes set on Garcia’s head. They waited for the signal. The instructions were to keep Garcia in their rifle’s sites till Perez personally told them to take him out.

  When the elevator doors opened to the 5th floor, Perez and his men walked down the hall in unison. Stride for stride they made their way down the hall like marching executioners till they arrived at Garcia’s room. Like a caged pig in the slaughterhouse, Garcia was trapped.

 

  * * *

 

  Hidden along an abandoned section of store fronts, Marsha watched Garcia. The vacant unlit retail area stayed just dark enough for her to remain hidden away from potential witnesses. She positioned herself where she had a clear shot, just about forty-five degrees to her left.

  The only issue was the distance. Her distant location exceeded the ideal range for accuracy. If she missed, he would more then likely vanish forever. An even worse situation would be if she was spotted a
nd thus reversing the roles from the hunter to the prey. She knew this man better then most and Garcia’s retaliation was not something that she wanted to subscribe to not now, not ever.

 

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

  “Mike, Mike! Over here!” Kelly swung her hand high over the crowd.

  Before that he had lost sight of her. After hearing Kelly’s voice, he spotted her right away waving her arm over the crowd and made his way toward her. Just within the peripheral range of his line of site, Mike also spotted something else. High above them a tall shadowed figure stood on the balcony of the hotel across the street.

  With his sense still on edge, Mike questioned everything around him. The quizzical mindset never subsided but instead grew even larger then before. Eventually it rose to the level of doubting his own thoughts and now it seems, even his own eyes. The tall shadow looked down and as far as he could tell, right at him.

  Logically the distance made it impossible to truly tell if the figure was looking at him or just the general area. Lately he questioned the logic of his thinking so he found it difficult to remain sold on the idea of being watched.

  He stared up at the figure. Although the space did allow a confident visual, Mike was still able to make a comparison. The shadowed outline matched the same one as he recalled that night in his club. Tall, slender, and ominous, the comparison was agonizingly uncanny and he had little doubt, this was Garcia.

  Mike stopped short of moving closer to Kelly; more unsettling images came into focus. Directly below the balcony where Garcia stood, another figure knelled in a shooter’s stance. Even in the darkness Mike could still make out the outline of rifle’s shaft. On the same level posted on the balcony to the right of the shooter, two addition men stood in the dark looking down in Mike’s direction.

  All were indistinguishable shadows but more then enough too alarm Mike. Other shadows posted in various locations were also noticed. The silhouettes stood in the dark with no lighting around them. They have to be working together.

  Habits kicked in. Just like he conditioned himself to do as his club’s security he swiveled his head in every direction. Faster and faster he rotated his line of sight locking in on the various dark balconies occupied by the shadows.

  His mind slowed gripping on the possibilities as his head swiveled even faster. Up, down, right, and lower. Up, down, right, and lower.

  Snapshots of pending peril filed into his short term memory. His eyes widened as more perspiration emerged from his pores. Comprehension instantly tied the separate images together linking puzzle pieces.

  Bits of occurrences from years before along with the recent visit to his club began to reveal the possibility of a bloodcurdling event. The shadow of Garcia staring down, the posted shooter, and the real reason for sparing him that night at the Memphis became forebodingly clear.

  Mike suddenly found it difficult to breath. Lucid thoughts drenched into a level of panic he had never felt. Tell me that I’m wrong please.

  When he thought it could not get worse it did. Kelly emerged from the crowd of tourist with Danny following behind her. After spotting his dad, Danny excitedly ran in his direction. Mike moved his head from left to right with his inner voice screaming no, but no words were able to come out.

 

  * * *

  From the darkness of the balcony, Garcia smiled. He picked up his two-way radio to send the direct order to the sniper’s ear piece.

  “Do you see the muscular male with the short sleeved green shirt walking in this direction?” Garcia said to the sniper.

  The sniper’s keen eyes scanned the vicinity in a few short seconds. Without being pre-informed about who the person would be, his only knowledge of the target was the possible area that they would emerge. Now he had a real target. He rotated the rifle positioned on the short wall till he placed Mike’s head in the cross hairs.

  “Got em’ in the cross hairs,” he said.

  Smoke seeped between Garcia smile as he looked down at the scene. “Now look just to the right of that man,” Garcia said. “The target is the boy running toward him.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

  The sniper pivoted the rifle’s scope inches to the right. He spotted the boy running to the man in the green shirt then locked him in on his site. The rifle’s scope trailed along with its moving target waiting for him to stop.

  A moving target was too unpredictable and risked the chance of an erratic shift that would cause a miss. Once he stopped a precise shot could be taken. The sniper locked on the target then readjusted as the boy’s unstable movement took him out of the crosshairs that had sentenced a countless number of victims to death.

  * * *

  The loud noise of the tourist crowd disorientated Mike. The sound of Danny’s voice enabled him to gather his faculties. Once he gathered his bearings, he ran toward Danny.

  “Danny! Noooo! Go back!! Go back!!!”

  Mike’s arms flailed wildly as a confused Kelly looked on then stopped just short of meeting up with him. Danny hardly noticed Mike’s protest as he continued to run to his dad. Mike screams fell deep inside the din of the surrounding spectators who cheered on the street performers.

  “Pow!!”

  The sound of the fired gunshot altered the entire environment like blood across a playground. What was previously a calm social gathering of tourism, transformed into something much darker. In an instant, the entire group altered into an elevated level of turmoil.

  The fired shot raced across the scene just a fraction of a second before the sniper fired at Danny. The bullet, Mike realized, didn’t come from the balcony but from somewhere behind him within the dark vacant section along the river walk.

  He spotted what looked like a woman ducking in the darkness with her weapon extended from her hidden location. Before he could react multiple shots fired from all directions. Garcia’s shadow dropped to the floor of the balcony.

  Mike turned to see a tall woman dashing out of the darkness. He looked around again and screamed in frustration. Somehow, he lost sight of Danny.

 

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

  “Sir, shoots are being fired but we’re not sure from where,” the voiced echoed through Perez’s radio.

  “Take him out,” Perez barked back into the radio.

  Perez’s men saw the unidentified first shot miss Garcia by inches. They called Perez just before a second shot was fired at him. The second shot raced by Garcia’s head even closer causing him to drop to the balcony’s floor.

  Ironically enough, the missed shots were the very thing that saved Garcia from Perez’s men. They would not have missed the target. When they tried to lock him in their sights again, Garcia had already crawled back into the hotel suite away from the balcony.

  * * *

  Garcia’s own sniper adjusted his aim after seeing the first bullet whizzed just past the boy’s left ear. The missed shot caused the boy to dive to the ground. The new stationary position made the shot even more difficult due to the countless number of scattered people racing by in different directions and obstructing the view.

  Through the scope the sniper saw the lifeless body of a middle-aged man stood next to the boy just before the shot was fired. He now stretched across the sidewalk with blood oozing out of his man’s chest. Nice shot but wrong target.

  The sniper blocked out the disorder all around him. His professionalism would not allow him to dwell on the miss; he had a job to complete. He adjusted his aim using the scope to relocate his target in the mist of the pandemonium. He found him just as the stationary target lifted his head to look for help. Much better.

  This was a sniper’s dream and the easiest shot to make. Not gonna miss this time, that’s for sure. The cross hairs aligned directly on the boy’s forehead. Even the boy’s mouth movement could be seen in the powerful scope. “Daddy!! Daddy!!”

  The boy remained on the ground straining his neck upwards. Hi
s silent screams were too far away to be heard. Soon the boy’s screams would be silenced forever.

  The sniper’s finger slid across the sensitive trigger. The two thin black lines in the scope intersected dead center on the boy’s temple. He took in a short breath and held it. Steady, steady.

  Like a sudden odd eclipse the scope’s site filled with green blocking the target. He titled the site up to see that the green was actually the shirt of the man he spotted before.

  The shock of the instant appearance caused the sniper to delay his reaction a half of a second. That fraction of time separated him from this world. Through the rifle’s site the green shirted man knelled in front of the target with a pistol aimed directly at him. The slug shattered the rifle’s scope ricocheting into the snipers temple.

  Shock, pain then total darkness followed the unexpected presence of the muscular man. Like so many of his victims, the sniper died instantly.

  CHAPTER SEVEN-SIX

  The door to Garcia’s suite smashed inward. Perez remained in the doorway as the two guards rushed inside searching the suite for Garcia. He spotted then from around a far corner then heard them come move closer. But as the master manipulator he already had a way out.

  Along with the four rooms reserved for him, his bodyguards as well as the sniper, was another unoccupied suite. This room connected to his and was purchased as a safety net. As soon as he saw them enter he crawled into the other suite vanishing inside then locking the door behind him. The war was on.