by Frank Perry
as the guy with the bigger gun. Peña had basically told his distributors and dealers that Mojo was the main man. He couldn’t reverse that. The only choice now was to replace Mojo. The prospect was getting more enticing by the second. He would enjoy slicing his heart out and feeding it to him. He would dream soundly tonight.
Mojo still had the balance of the cocaine shipment inside the container, almost eight million dollars’ worth. He also had all the distributors in the West that Peña had given him. Hell, even if Peña didn’t cheat him, this was a good situation. He just needed to kill off Peña to finalize the deal.
Hunter had arrived back to Sue Ann’s apartment after spending the night before in a cheap hotel in Los Angeles. It had taken hours to clean his gear and equipment from the harbor slime. Even the equipment float, which served as his shipping container had to be scrubbed with bleach. It hardly fit in the bathtub. He’d started something in the drug world, but it wouldn’t be obvious for a while. Nothing would make the evening news. He’d need to watch carefully to see if it was even reported in the Bay Area. Some small time dealer killed in Los Angeles wouldn’t make the news up north. What if Al-Zeid (Mojo) didn’t miss the drugs? It seemed unlikely. Hunter just wanted Peña put away or killed. He wanted his sister and lover to be safe, wherever they were.
In the morning, he called John’s cell phone again. It rang several times, and he was going to give up when someone unfamiliar answered, “What?”
Hunter didn’t know what to say initially. He used speed dial, he didn’t misdial. “Who is this?”
The line went dead. Who had he just talked to?
In San Francisco, Captain Korb, left his “guest” and walked to the bridge phone to call Peña. “Luca. I just got a call from H. Kohl on Richard’s phone. He has it programmed.”
Luca was excited. “Bring it to me, immediately.”
So, the detective knows more people in the family, more than just the sister. He knows Hunter Kohl. This will be interesting. The detective just became more valuable.
Hunter called the Murray building in Washington. “Is John Fleming there?”
Negative. “Let me talk to someone who knows about his work in California; this is Hunter Kohl.”
After a brief period on hold, “This is Director Hendrix, what can I do for you, Mr. Kohl.”
“Sir, I am working with John Fleming, although out here in California he’s John Richards.”
“I can’t talk about that, Mr. Kohl.”
“Yeah. I know. But look, John is missing. I just called his cellphone, and some unknown creep answered. I think he’s in trouble.”
“Thank you, Mr. Kohl, we’re already looking into it.”
“Sir, look, respectfully. John hid my sister and girlfriend for protection. If he (Peña) has John, they could be in danger.”
“We’ll look into that, Mr. Kohl.”
“Look, sir. I know you have your protocol, but I need to know where they are.”
“Mr. Kohl, protection is just that. If Deputy Director Fleming is compromised, we will look into the matter of protection and take appropriate measures. I’m sure you understand it’s for your own good if you should be compromised as well.” This was the first acknowledgement that Hendrix even knew Hunter was an agent. The call ended, and he got no more information.
Fifty miles north, Captain Korb stood at the opening into the Ocean Queen’s refrigerator hold with Ramon in the background. “Tell me, Inspector Richards, are you comfortable?”
John was standing naked against the steel wall in the giant sub-freezing hold of the ship. Pallet crates of fish would normally be lowered into the freezing chamber for storage during extended trawling voyages. Richards had been untied and stripped twelve hours earlier before the freezer was energized after Korb met with Peña. It had taken more than an hour for the expansive volume of air to lower to twenty-seven degrees. As cold overtook his body functions, the metal floor and walls were slower to cool. Now, after an hour at the thermostat temperature, his feet and backside were frozen to the metal. He couldn’t fall or sit, as all feeling drained from his body, which was blue, except for his lips and eyelids that shined ruby red. Korb panicked thinking he’d gone too far without answers. He had threatened and harangued Richards for half an hour while the temperature dropped, but the man remained silent. Now, he looked dead.
Korb threw the freezer door open and rushed with Ramon to revive Richards. Luca would not tolerate killing Richards without finding Kohl or his women. Ramon pulled Richard’s body from the wall and got no response. He was still limber enough to bend over his shoulder when carried to the crew quarters to warm. They wouldn’t know for another hour if the man would regain consciousness. Korb frantically threw blankets on Richards and tried to leave the space more than once, but Ramon blocked him in place. Ramon had his orders, too.
Hunter went on line and saw Sea Fury entering San Francisco bay. Ocean Wanderer was backing out of its berth. The shipment cycle seemed to be accelerating with both ships in motion at the same time. He chuckled to himself that the south coast must be in short supply. Was Peña really shipping more drugs to his collaborator in San Pedro, or was something else happening?
Later that night, Richards started to moan and began hallucinating. Korb slapped him several times but couldn’t bring Richards back to reality. “Come on, you bastard. You can’t die. Talk to me!” He slapped him repeatedly until Ramon restrained him. Korb looked at Ramon and pleaded with his old cellblock protector. “Ramon, it was an accident. He was weak. How was I to know?”
Ramon released his grip and stared at the Captain. Korb regained some composure and continued trying to revive Richards whose organs had stopped functioning and was dying of the exposure. He wasn’t dead yet, but the process was irreversible. Korb had gone too far with his torture, with no results. He shook Richards again. “Come on, you pig, talk to me!”
Hunter arranged his make-shift security devices and placed the Beretta on the nightstand before collapsing in the bed. He would shower in the morning and assess things before deciding on his next step. He worried about John, but he also worried about Claire and Laura. John knew where they were hiding, and Peña probably had John. At least he had his phone. The night was stormy again and rain beat against the windows, keeping him from sleeping. He tossed, thinking about what could happen to his women, about Sue Ann. He had to stop the monster.
In the morning, he showered before dawn. He hadn’t slept much, but he wasn’t tired either. The sun blazed through the remnants of clouds shortly after he was dressed. He sat briefly, watching the morning news. His phone rang and he looked at the display before answering. “Hi, Leigh.”
“Hi. You back in DC yet?”
“No. I’m still in California.”
“Good, I was going to call earlier but thought you might still be there.”
“What’s up?”
“Did you see the news yet?”
“No.
“Your friendly California Senator, Jenson, got hauled away by the Feds from his home this morning at three A.M.. No one’s sure if it was the FBI or Secret Service.”
Hunter sat down. “Are you kidding? What does this mean, Leigh?”
“I don’t know yet, Hunter, but it might mean the there’s still time to pass the bill if they can get it on the floor today or tomorrow.”
He shook his head. “Unbelievable! Do I need to call anyone?”
“You should, but don’t bother. I’ll take care of this end. You take care of your business then get back here as fast as you can.”
“I will.”
He was conflicted. His job needed him in DC, but his family welfare meant he should be here. Family wins.
Peña heard the news around noon time and was furious. His cozy business life was unraveling all around him. He didn’t know what to address first. He called Number One.
“What can I do for you, Luca?”
“I’m going to the airport today and will fly overnight. There’re no good flights to the east coast after one o’clock. My flight leaves at ten-thirty tonight.”
“Do you have everything you need?”
“I should have.”
Peña didn’t smile. He wasn’t smiling about anything lately. He screamed at his daughter earlier at home, and his wife threw something at him. He had two enemies, Mojo and Kohl. Mojo would be taken care of like normal business. Kohl was ruining his business and was more important. He would get him soon.
In Washington, the kids were in school and Claire had Laura over to her apartment for lunch. They tried to keep each other company often. Partly they were both scared that they were targets of the maniac in California. José had been murdered and Sue Ann was probably dead. Hunter hadn’t said anything about her, but they both knew he thought Peña killed her, too. When John Richards first told Claire that he was in the Secret Service and needed to protect her, it was the first time she felt genuinely scared. But now, their temporary stay in protection was starting to feel overdone. It was like being locked away. John would call every day, but stopped two days ago. The ladies sat at the dinette table in Claire’s three-bedroom apartment.
Claire was eight years older than Laura, but they shared so much recently that they felt like sisters. Claire said, “Have you heard from anyone lately?”
Laura
