He didn’t even open his eyes when he heard her footsteps leaving the room and marching back his way. If she had come to finish him off, he didn’t intend to protest.
Instead she grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulled him bodily from the ground, and slammed him hard against the wall. He cried out in agony as his wounded arm and leg lit up again with fresh pain.
“Where is Sellars!” she shouted in his face. The fury in her features startled him, with her skin flushed red and veins literally standing up on her forehead and cheekbones. Whatever else she might be, she was borderline crazy.
“I asked you where the hell Sellars is!”
The open handed slap she delivered left him seeing stars and spitting blood. How could she be this strong? He had dealt with crazy people and drug addicts of every sort, but he had never encountered physical strength like this.
“WHERE…IS…HE!”
The lieutenant tried to wrap his mind around her question and make sense of it. Hadn’t she just killed Sellars? What could she possibly be talking about? And who had she shot in Sellars’ room?
“Shit! You don’t know a goddamned thing!”
She flung him across the hall so hard he left cracks in the opposite wall. The impact shook a fire extinguisher loose that hit the floor with a loud clang, and also caused a doctor’s chart to fall off a nearby door. Her footsteps receded back toward Sellars’ room as Asprin slid down the wall’s surface, hurting worse than he ever imagined possible.
“Come on, Molly,” he heard her say to somebody in Sellars’ room, “time’s up and we need to get out of here. I’ll get that worthless little scum later.”
We? Who the hell was she talking to? Asprin lay there, trying to hear if anybody answered the woman. Instead his ears were greeted by the roar of her gun going off again, and the crash of a window shattering. The sounds of the city outside came in, with the faint warble of sirens approaching in the distance.
The cavalry had nearly arrived, but they were too late. The assassin was already making her getaway.
“But we’re on the third floor,” Asprin muttered to himself, “There’s no way out.”
Yet five minutes later an armed search of the room turned up a dead Officer Gilbert next to the shattered window, and an unconscious Adam Sellars in the linen cabinet. No sign remained of the tall woman with the gun.
CHAPTER THREE
FOUR MEETINGS
“I’m sorry, Detective. I still don’t know her.”
Adam leaned back, looked away from the television display, and rubbed his temples. At least this time it was a conference room instead of an interrogation cell. The chairs were a lot more comfortable here, and the large table boasted room for twelve of them. The high definition TV screen dominated the far wall, but all eyes were now focused on him.
“Just give her another look, Mr. Sellars. Please.”
With a sigh and a nod of his head, he complied.
Forensic video experts working for the Houston PD had managed to enhance the image from outside the emergency room. It showed the woman who tried to kill him approaching from the parking lot. The yellow light outside the emergency room doors illuminated her in stark detail. The long braid, the rustic clothes, and the huge duffel bag slung under her arm. The scowl on her face could easily be made out along with the protective way she gripped the duffel bag.
Even with the enhancements the graininess remained, but the picture possessed enough clarity for Adam to get a good look at her.
He stared long and hard.
“Detective Blevins,” he finally replied, “I’m dead sure I would remember somebody who looked like that, but I just don’t. I’ve never seen her before in my life, and I’m quite sure of it.”
“Mr. Sellars, I’m sure…”
“Detective Blevins,” Ellen cut in, “he said he doesn’t know her. He has been saying that for the past two weeks. He has even stated it under a lie detector, against my advice I might add, and passed with flying colors. He doesn’t know her. Move on.”
“Miss Tauber, we aren’t enemies here. Mr. Sellars is no longer the focus of the investigation.”
Adam looked up from where he had started to lay his head on his arms. The detective’s last statement came like music to his ears.
“I’m not?”
“No sir,” Detective Arnold Blevins fiddled with his white Stetson hat on the table in front of him, “As Miss Tauber has so forcefully pointed out, you have been openly cooperative and it’s pretty obvious you are as much in the dark about these attacks as we are. Our investigation is now looking in a couple of other directions.”
“Other directions?” Adam perked up.
“Yes, sir. It’s apparent these attacks are somehow connected with the disappearance of your brother and his family.”
That hardly came as news to Adam, but he didn’t say anything. He wanted to stay on good terms with this new soft-spoken detective.
“I see.”
“Basically, we are approaching it from two possible scenarios…the first of which you aren’t going to like very much.”
“Go on.” Adam closed his eyes, and Ellen laid a hand over his.
“Well, the first one is the possibility your brother, and maybe his wife, were involved with something illegal. Maybe some kind of drug cartel out of Mexico. Perhaps he got on their bad side and they decided to take him out. Then when they caught him and were getting ready to do the deed, he tells them he has protected himself by leaving incriminating evidence with you…in case something ever happens to him. They don’t buy the bluff and kill him. Then your detective shows up nine months later waving pictures around, and they remember his threat.”
“No, Detective.” Adam shook his head and tried to keep the anger out of his voice. “David was my brother. I know it sounds like I’m being defensive of him here, but he really wasn’t the type to get involved in anything like that.”
“Could be,” Blevins soothed with his quiet drawl, “which brings us to the second most likely possibility.”
“What’s that?”
“That your brother and his family were merely on an outing somewhere and stumbled on to some kind of illegal operation or deal. David tries to take a picture but it’s messed up by the spider, and then dials you by mistake when he’s trying to warn his wife. She doesn’t get the warning and…well, the rest is pretty obvious. Then when your detective shows up, the bad guys realize there is a threat to them and they try to end it.”
Adam considered it for a minute.
It fit a lot of the facts, and furthermore it had the appeal of David being innocent of any wrong doing. He refused to even consider the notion of his brother being involved with some kind of mafia or drug cartel. That didn’t make any sense at all. On the other hand, the second scenario sounded much more plausible. It felt right.
But it didn’t feel exactly right.
“You honestly think it’s some kind of drug cartel?”
Detective Blevins reached down beside him and pulled up a briefcase. Laying it on the table, he snapped it open and pulled out what appeared to be a very large military style pistol, or submachine gun.
“This,” he hefted the gun, “is a V-51 .308 pistol. It’s basically a high-powered, semi-automatic rifle that’s been cut down and had a pistol grip attached to it.”
Adam and Ellen stared at the ugly firearm. Somehow, it screamed ‘overkill,’ which jibed perfectly with what he had heard about the woman who tried to kill him.
“So that’s what she was using?”
“Maybe, or something like it.” Blevins leaned forward and looked him in the eyes. “Either way, she had the services of a gunsmith at her disposal. Forensics identified the bullets as a .308 with copper jackets surrounding a steel penetrator slug, with a high-powered load. They were armor piercing rounds...custom made. Most likely her gun was, too.”
“My God.”
“Exactly. Officer Kwan was damn lucky that even his higher grade body armor mana
ged to stop one of those rounds. Nine out of ten times it wouldn‘t have.”
“But why even own such a weapon?” Adam continued to stare in fascination at the gun.
“In this case? To kill people. Even if they are wearing protective gear. This woman must be a professional killer.”
“But how did she do all the other stuff I heard about?”
“We don’t know, Mr. Sellars. And due to the malfunction of the video camera covering the inside of the emergency room, we don’t have any footage of the fight itself. Nothing but the testimony of a bunch of badly frightened witnesses, and some officers in the heat of combat. That makes it very tough to separate fact from fiction.”
“After what the old guy did at the pool, I’m inclined to believe them.”
“I’m sure you are, and we’re not dismissing anything out of hand. They were both probably coked up to the gills. You would be amazed what some people are capable of when you mix crazy with hard drugs.”
Adam grimaced, but said nothing further. He saw no point in rehashing the same old argument again. He merely felt relieved the detective no longer considered him one of the bad guys.
Which only left the crazy people with big guns to worry about.
Apparently Detective Blevins thought along the same lines.
“One last thing,” the detective put the big white hat back on and stood up. “You should reconsider letting us protect you. That woman is still out there somewhere, not to mention whoever sent her.”
Adam exchanged glances with Ellen, then shook his head.
“No thanks, Detective. I appreciate the offer, but I can’t live with somebody else dying because they came between me and these psychopaths. I’ve been to enough funerals this past week. I’ll never be able to make up to those families what they have lost.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll take my chances hiding. If you need me for anything, Ellen can get hold of me for you.”
“It’s your call, Mr. Sellars. I think you are making a big mistake, but I wish you luck.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
Then with a tip of his hat, the detective left the room.
Adam watched the door close behind him, then shifted his gaze back to the big television. The image of his would be assassin still scowled on the screen as she emerged from the darkness of the parking lot. He unfolded his cane and pushed himself up out of the chair. With an exaggerated totter, due to his legs falling half asleep in the chair, he approached the monitor and studied the harsh lines of her face.
“What do you think, Ellen?”
“About the detective?” she busied herself putting papers back into her briefcase, “I don’t trust him.”
“Really?”
“Really. That’s my job. Look Adam, just because they aren’t yelling at you, doesn’t mean you aren’t being interrogated. And just because they’re investigating a couple of other scenarios doesn’t mean they can’t settle right back on you as the target of their investigation tomorrow. To be honest, this niceness rubs me the wrong way.”
“Well, so much for my feelings of relief,” Adam groaned. “I was actually asking if you still think we’re doing the right thing.”
“I don’t see any other choice.” She snapped the briefcase shut. “You’ve decided the police guarding you is too risky, even though they are paid to take the risk. And it would be insane for you to go back home without protection. So, that leaves putting you up somewhere that has no connection to you and you lying low.”
“Thanks, Ellen.”
“No need to thank me, you’re paying for it. And you’re doing a favor for a friend of mine by renting his condo while he’s in Europe. It all works out.”
“That wasn’t exactly what I meant either. I haven‘t given up on looking for Tucker. I still think there is something screwy about this whole thing. Who ever heard of a drug cartel raising the child of their victims as one of their own? But now that you mention it, thanks for going to the mat and covering me like you did. I won‘t forget this.”
“I know.” She stood and ushered him toward the door. “But I told you before…we’re still friends. So if you thank me one more time for simply doing what you would do for me if our roles were reversed, I’m going to break my high heel off in your ass.”
“You are such a sweet talking smoothie,” Adam chuckled, “why did I ever let you get away?”
“Because you’re an idiot.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot.”
The two closed the door behind them, leaving the conference room alone under the angry gaze of the blonde assassin on the screen.
###
“Freeze it there, Olivia. Thank you.”
Halfway across Houston, the same face glared on an even larger TV screen in another darkened conference room. Only on this screen she held the unfortunate Harold Kwan up by his wrist, right before she threw him through the bathroom door.
Antonio Montez fished a Cuban cigar from the breast pocket of his fifteen-hundred dollar suit and leaned back in his chair. He chose not to light it in deference to his niece’s allergies, but clenched it in his teeth as he studied the woman on the screen. With his iron gray hair pulled back in a ponytail, he carried an air of patrician authority…one he cultivated especially for the benefit of the other four shadowy figures around the conference table.
While he headed the council, Antonio knew the authority of the elders must be respected. Thus he chose to wear his hair as he did, and certain other paraphernalia, as a nod of respect to their adherence of the old ways. It made working with them easier, even though he viewed himself as a man of the modern world.
“Are you sure it’s them?” the shadow to his left queried.
“Pretty much.” He spoke around the cigar. “We don’t have a solid identification on her, although we have a hunch about that, but we are now reasonably confident that the old man at the pool was Arthur Weston.”
“The old pig farmer?”
“Yes, Delgado,” Antonio nodded at the old man, “the pig farmer. We’re not sure why they picked him for the job. He’s an odd choice, but not completely outside the realm of logic either.”
“But he has papers! He could be traced!”
“I doubt it. He doesn’t have a record so they wouldn’t have his fingerprints on file. And I imagine he didn’t have his driver’s license or any other identification on his person when he went to the pool. Besides, they would need somebody with a driver’s license to drive down here to Houston anyway. From what we know of him he was solid, and level headed…which still makes him a reasonable choice for the job despite his advanced age.”
“But that woman is another matter,” a sharp voice from the other side of the table broke in. “She changes everything.”
“Indeed,” Antonio breathed, returning his attention to the monitor. “She is magnificent!” He grinned at the thought of his niece controlling the urge to make a disparaging comment while standing there in the dark.
“She’s a threat!” the voice continued. “How can we possibly send a group of hunters this spring when they have the likes of her lurking out there? That’s assuming they don’t manage to bring the government down on their heads with this insanity! What were they thinking?”
“We don’t know, Cesar. We don’t have a lot of facts yet. Fortunately, one of our men inside the police force managed to sabotage the tape covering the interior of the emergency room while getting us a copy. The police have nothing but tall tales from frightened witnesses to go on.”
“Thank God for that!”
“But we are still pretty much in the dark ourselves. We have no idea why they want this Adam Sellars dead. But it’s obvious they want him dead very badly. I have never heard of them doing something this blatant.”
“Blatant is an understatement,” Cesar pressed. “The police aren’t going to let this go anytime soon. That woman killed three police officers.”
“And the woman
in the bathroom.” Olivia corrected in a soft voice.
Stony silence fell over the room.
Antonio clenched his jaw, angry at the attitudes of the old men gathered around the table. Olivia’s IQ dwarfed those of everybody else in the room and they all knew it. But it was only on his insistence, and his unprecedented move of making her his second, that they allowed her to be here at all.
“Anyway,” he glossed over the interruption, “we have no evidence the police have anything which could get them too close to the truth.”
“Yet.” Cesar grumbled.
“Agreed, yet. That’s part of the purpose of this meeting. We need to decide what we are going to do, if anything, and how we are going to go about it.”
Another brief silence settled over the assemblage, then a quavery voice from his far right spoke up.
“We should kill this man ourselves. Do it, and lay a false trail pointing at Mexico. It’s what the police will want to believe anyway. Then everything can go back to normal, and we’ll all be safe.”
This garnered a couple of murmurs of assent, prompting Antonio to raise his hand to bring the meeting back to order.
“That’s a possibility, Marcus,” he replied, “and I certainly won’t rule it out if it turns out to be what we need to do. But we don’t know enough yet. Hell, we don’t even know why they are after him. It could turn out killing him would solve nothing, or even make matters worse. We need more information.”
“What do our sources in the department say?”
“Our penetration of the Houston PD only goes so far. At the moment, we only know Adam Sellars doesn’t have much of a record. A single bust for disorderly conduct back in college, and nothing else. He was a top refinery engineer for Chicxulub Petroleum until injured in a car crash nine months ago. His injuries make it difficult for him to fly, and his job entailed him routinely visiting all their different refineries and drill rigs. So they bought out his contract for a hefty sum. Couple that with an even bigger sum due to a quick settlement with the company responsible for the accident, and Mr. Sellars is pretty much set for life…assuming his tastes aren’t expensive. We have yet to discover the connection between him and our adversaries.”
Spiderstalk Page 7
