Dead Man Walking

by David Carter

  After Cyrus had come to love and trust Scarface, he’d decided to appoint him as the new leader of the Aryan nation upon his eventual demise. He’d taken steps to ensure the most deserving man was put in his place. If not for Blaze, Cyrus would have been a free man and returned to Camp Tahawus to continue with his operation, which made Doyle’s superior think long and hard about the decision he’d previously made. It was true that Doyle had been insubordinate, and that Blaze was an internationally wanted criminal, and had broken a long list of federal laws when breaking out of The Tombs, not once, but twice. In the end, the net result was staggering, and in turn, he decided to give Doyle’s actions further consideration.

  Doyle’s superior was instrumental in organising the women’s and children’s safe keeping after the paramedics whisked them away for full medical examinations. Reuniting the mothers with their children had turned out to be quite the fiasco. DNA tests had been ordered in an effort to make sure the right child went to the right homestead; the mothers that survived Camp Tahawus didn’t recognise their own children. The leftover children without mothers were adopted out or put into foster care.

  Doyle’s superior thought of his own wife and children, and how innocent their lives seemed. He took one last walk around the camp, being sure to imprint the images into his memory. It reminded him of the concentration camps Hitler used during the Second World War. Camp Tahawus was something he’d never wipe from his memory. It made him realise how precious life was, and that without Doyle’s determination and bravery, the camp would have continued destroying the lives of many women to come.

  He stepped into the mess hall to examine the manhole Doyle had told him about. It was morbidly quiet inside. He shook his head in disbelief. Then as he turned around to leave, he felt the cold steel of a rifle barrel press against the skin on his neck.

  “Get your hands up, asshole,” Blaze said.

  Chapter 72

  “The infamous Blaze,” Doyle’s superior said confidently. “I was wondering when you might show up.”

  “Well, I sure as hell wasn’t leaving until we’d had a wee chat,” Blaze replied.

  “Fair enough. May I lower my hands and turn around so we may discuss this like gentlemen?”

  “I ain’t no fucking gentleman.”

  He lowered his hands and slowly turned around. Blaze kept his rifle raised.

  “So, Blaze, what seems to be the issue here?”

  “Don’t play fucking coy with me.”

  “Look, if you’re irked about the way I left you to rot inside The Tombs, then I understand your anger. But you need to take some perspective: you’re a wanted man, and once I became aware of the fact, I decided it was best to keep you on ice until further notice from the New Zealand Government. One cannot be too careful in international relations such as these.”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Detective Ryan flew halfway round the fucking world to bring me in. That’s your notice right there!”

  “You might think it’s good enough to have some unknown detective with nothing but his word as your plane ticket home, but to the FBI he’s a nothing; zero. If he was patient, he could have requested your government to submit the correct paperwork for your release. But what did he do instead? Took matters into his own hands and teamed up with bloody Doyle, causing an avalanche of paperwork for me to deal with, not to mention the people you ruthlessly murdered during your time inside; yet you’re angry with me?”

  Blaze placed his finger on the trigger. “I could solve all my problems right now and put a neat little hole between your eyes. I ain’t got nothing to lose.”

  Doyle’s superior suddenly realised the danger he was in. “Look, I’m prepared to let you walk. It’s the least I can do for your assistance in bringing down what I can only describe as the most distasteful organisation I’ve ever come to know.”

  “That’s not good enough.”

  “I beg your pardon? Not good enough? I’ve given my blessing for you to leave. What more could you want?”

  “The reason I wanted to talk to you.”

  “But I thought that–”

  “It’s Doyle I’m concerned about.”

  “Oh, I see...”

  “Let him walk. You know it’s the right thing to do. He was right all along, and all you fuckers laughed in his face.”

  “Yes, well, at the time–”

  “Shut up and listen,” Blaze cut him off. “I’ll kill you right now if you don’t let him off. I can promise you that.”

  “Yes, but he threatened me, and that can’t go unpunished. It’s already on the record.”

  “Withdraw your complaint, stand him down; keep him on salary for six months. He could use a fucking break after this.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Doyle said as he entered the room. “Put the gun down, Blaze.”

  “Bite me, Doyle.”

  “Blaze, as much as I appreciate what you’re doing, I shouldn’t have threatened my superior. I was out of line. I’m prepared to accept the consequences of my actions.” He looked his superior in the eye. “Please accept my apology for the way I handled things. I’m sure by now you understand my motives, but as I said, I’m ready for whatever punishment you deem fit.”

  Doyle’s superior mulled his heartfelt words over for a moment, then said, “In light of your apology and persistence to bring down this barbaric organisation, not only will I withdraw the charges, but you’ll be promoted and honoured by the president himself after your heroics. I think it’s fair to say the women and children rescued here today would proudly stand by you.”

  “Do you mean it? You’re not just talking shit to save your neck?” Blaze asked curtly.

  “You have my word, son.”

  Blaze lowered the rifle. “Seems I misjudged you.” He leaned into his ear and coldly said, “See to it that you don’t go back on your word, because if you do, I’ll come looking for you and your grandchildren should you change your mind.” With his eerie warning delivered, he left the mess hall for the final time.

  “Thank you, sir, I’m most grateful for your decision,” Doyle said sheepishly. He offered his hand.

  His superior accepted it, and said, “Don’t even think about pulling a stunt like this again. I think what you’ve achieved is impressive. But the way you handled yourself was irresponsible, unprofessional, and quite frankly, a smudge on the FBI’s good name. You put yourself and the lives of others at risk, with no backup or communication as to your whereabouts. And now it seems I have to turn a blind eye to the comings and goings of that imbecile gangsta, Skinny-Jay, for the foreseeable future for saving the day, which I’m most annoyed about. I trust you’ve learned your lesson?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Now get out of here so we can clean this mess up.”

  “Just one more thing, sir–”

  “Yes, Doyle?”

  “I know you are going way out on a limb for me as it is, but I need to ask a favour...”

  “Go on,” he replied impatiently.

  Doyle pitched his request.

  Doyle’s superior scoffed. “You don’t ask for much, do you, Doyle?”

  “I know, sir. At least say you’ll think it over?”

  “I’ll give it some thought,” he agreed.

  They closed the door on the mess hall and headed for the chopper waiting for them in the centre of the compound.

  Chapter 73

  Doyle made all the necessary arrangements for Spider and Ace’s bodies to be transferred home on the same flight as Ryan, Blaze, and Trigger. As they got out of Doyle’s shiny new SUV at John F Kennedy International Airport, Blaze felt at peace with his decision to return home. This was a whole new chapter for him: accepting responsibility for his actions, letting go of the past. He felt the weight of the world fall from his shoulders.

  He had only one regret.

  Jane.

  He wished more than anything he could stay in New York and start a new life. He didn’t know if h
e was even ready for a stable relationship, but the thought intrigued him. A life without crime suddenly seemed so poetic, so perfect, so simple. Yet deep down he’d always known he was destined to be an outlaw from the moment he’d thrown his first punch. He’d always relished the rush of adrenaline that came with tip-toeing around the law.

  If there was one thing Blaze had finally accepted, it was that going against the grain and rorting the system had only one eventual outcome. His closest friends were either incarcerated or dead. Blaze had taken some time out to grieve for Ace and Spider—two more brothers added to the ever growing death-toll. It had made him stop and smell the blood on his hands. They’d still be alive if he hadn’t disappeared to New York. On the flipside, he’d convinced himself that no one forced them to come after him. It still wasn’t enough to forgive himself.

  “It’s not too late to back out and do a runner,” Doyle joked as they approached the check-in kiosk for their flight.

  “Don’t even tempt him,” Ryan said curtly.

  “The thought never crossed my mind.” Blaze chuckled innocently.

  After checking in, and dropping off what little luggage they had, it was time to part ways with Doyle. “You keep in touch now, ya hear?” Doyle shook Ryan’s hand. “I sure could use an experienced hand like you on my team. So if you’re ever thinking about leaving that little country town of yours back home, you just say the word and I’ll fly you and your lady friend straight over, all right?”

  “Likewise,” Ryan joked. “If you ever need a break from the smog and chaos that is New York City, be sure to look me up in Glendale. We don’t even have a single set of traffic lights. You’ll love it!”

  Doyle thanked Trigger for his assistance in the field. “You’re the best marksman I’ve ever had the pleasure of working alongside,” he commended him. “And if you ever need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me. I’ll forever consider myself in your debt. The same goes for all of you,” he quickly added.

  Trigger nodded. He’d barely spoken a word ever since his shocking ordeal. It was as though Scarface had fried away his personality. Blaze worried for him, hoping more than anything that he didn’t do anything foolish like sticking a pistol in his mouth.

  “I’m gonna miss your sorry ass.” Doyle grinned as he proudly placed his hand on Blaze’s shoulder. “You’re truly one out of the box. It’s a crying shame you have to return home.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? With some training and the right attitude, you’d make a top-line FBI agent if your time weren’t otherwise occupied. Who knows, maybe things will fall your way when you get home and you’ll serve only a light sentence?”

  “Yeah, well, we both know that ain’t gonna happen. But I appreciate the thought.”

  “Such a pity.” Doyle shook his head. “I’ll live in hope all the same.”

  Doyle bade them farewell and left them alone in the terminal before heading back to FBI headquarters to his new, bigger office, driving his Chevrolet, which still had that irresistible new car smell. His superior had delivered on his promises, promoting Doyle and making a shining example of him as an exemplary agent. The president himself had thanked him personally for his service and bravery, along with Ryan, Blaze, and Trigger. It was a proud moment for him.

  The one thing still left unresolved was the favour he’d asked of his superior. When he’d asked him about his decision, he was bluntly told that he was ‘still considering his options’.

  For the moment that was good enough.

  *

  Twenty-one hours later, Blaze awoke to a flight attendant tapping him on the shoulder, asking him to fasten his seatbelt before landing. It wasn’t long until he was safe on the ground and heading through customs, before he, Ryan and Trigger were greeted by Commissioner Marshall himself, complete with a security team. “Bobby Blaise, I presume,” he said tersely. “Glad to see you finally made it.”

  Blaze offered no reply.

  Commissioner Marshall confronted Ryan. “Well, done, detective; it appears you have successfully completed your assignment.” He shook his hand. “It gives me great pleasure to inform you that you are no longer under the watchful eye of the law, and are free to continue your sworn duty to this country. I’m sure one particular lady friend of yours will be delighted to see you.”

  “I’ll have to cross that bridge when I get there.”

  Trigger and Blaze were cuffed by the security team. They didn’t put up a struggle.

  The commissioner then said, “So, detective, as token of my gratitude, I’d like to ask you to join me at Government House for one of our annual charity fundraisers. There will some wining, dining, and plenty of schmoozing going on. What do you say?”

  “Well—er—I’m rather jet-lagged from the flight, sir. When is it?”

  “I’m actually on my way as of right now. I made a detour after I received word you were en route with the prisoners. Come on, we’ll swing by my personal tailor and pick you out a suit; we’ve got plenty of time.”

  “I really would prefer to get home–”

  “I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to trust me when I say that you wouldn’t want to miss this.”

  Ryan felt he could sleep standing up, but he didn’t want to insult the commissioner. After all, he was finally a free man. “What about those two?” He pointed at Blaze and Trigger.

  The commissioner eyeballed Blaze. “I was told of your bold antics over in the States, and that you chose to cooperate with Detective Ryan and turn yourself in. Is that an accurate summation of the past week’s events?”

  Blaze had to bite his lip to prevent himself from blurting out a snarky remark. Ryan’s stern facial expressions convinced him to play ball. “Yes, sir,” he replied wisely.

  “And you, Trigger, also played a significant role in the demise of the brotherhood’s operation, and are also turning yourself in of your own free will?”

  He nodded.

  “All right then. If you promise to be on your best behaviour, and allow my security team to tail you for the evening’s events, I’d like to extend an invitation for you both to join me as my guests as a thank you for your service. I personally received a commendation for your bravery from Agent Doyle’s superior, and he requested that I cut you some slack. But don’t for a second think that you’re off the hook. You will still go to trial, and consequently serve whatever sentence the grand judge sees fit. Are we clear on this?”

  “Fucking crystal,” Blaze replied.

  Chapter 74

  “You almost pass for a gentleman,” Commissioner Marshall said as Blaze revealed himself to the security team after a quick shower, shave, and dressing in a smart, black suit.

  Blaze had to admit he was right as he admired himself in the mirror. He’d never worn a suit in his life. “Now I see why Ryan wears one all the time,” he joked. “A suit can make any ugly fucker look presentable.”

  The commissioner couldn’t help chuckling. Ryan gave him a less than friendly stare.

  After a short drive from the tailor’s, they arrived at Government House. Security was tight. “Now, you three wait here. I have a surprise for you,” the commissioner said as they entered the banquet hall. There were uppity business men and politicians in all directions. Blaze and Trigger felt most out of place. Ryan was in his element.

  “Old-timer!” Ryan exclaimed as Hampton appeared around the corner with the commissioner. “It’s so good to see you! How’s the ticker?”

  “I’m still standing, aren’t I?” Hampton laughed.

  Ryan’s heart skipped a beat as Sharon was next to appear. She looked stunning. Her long brown hair flowed over her shoulders. Her tanned legs rode all the way up from her black heels to her exposed thighs. She’d pulled out her little black dress, complete with a dainty, diamond necklace. Every gentleman stopped in his tracks as she graced the room with her presence.

  “Hello, Cameron,” she said sheepishly. I—I—I’m sorry
I didn’t return your calls...” She fought desperately to hold back the tears.

  Ryan took his opening and threw his arms around her, kissing her passionately; two lovers reconnecting. It was a beautiful scene. “I love you so much,” Ryan whispered.

  She finally let her guard down. “When I heard what you did for those women–”

  “I thought I’d never see you again, too,” Ryan answered.

  “I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I know it wasn’t completely your fault. I just felt so betrayed.”

  “And I’m sorry for not telling you the truth. Please forgive me, Sharon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Oh, bloody hell, I’m gonna be sick,” Blaze said, while sampling a platter of hors d’oeuvres. “Get a fucking room, you two.”

  Ryan ignored him. He took Sharon by the hand and went in search of a waiter serving champagne.

  The snide grin was wiped from Blaze’s face when Elizabeth stormed up to him and slapped him across the face. “I could bloody kill you, Bobby!” she scolded him.

  An awkward silence filled the room.

  Blaze looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

  The onlooking crowd resumed their meaningless conversations.

  “You’re sorry?” she snapped. “Do you know how much pain and suffering I went through? You selfish, arrogant, weasel!”

  Blaze grinned. “Did you just call me a weasel?”

  His cheeky remark took the sting out of her tirade. “If I weren’t a lady I’d call you a grubby little shithead!” She paused, then quietly said, “You broke my heart, Bobby. I thought you were dead. I grieved for days after your memorial service.” A tear trickled down her cheek.

  Blaze felt guiltier than at any other time he could recall. “I don’t know what to say; I’m sorry.”

  Elizabeth hugged him tightly. “You stupid, stupid, boy,” she sniffled, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.” She touched his face and shoulders, making sure he wasn’t a mirage.