On The Grind ss-8

by Stephen Cannell

"Hold on," I said. "I told him I went to that condo to meet Tiffany-that we were using one of the furnished models. I told him Tiffany has a girlfriend at Century 21 who opened it up for us. He looked like he bought it, but he's going to check it out. We need to put a female FBI agent in at that real estate management company, somebody who can swear she opened the apartment for her movie star friend. If you guys can set that up, then my story will check out and I can give this a little more time." I didn't tell them that I'd lost my cell phone with the text message to Ophelia on it.

  "They're bound to suspect you just because you're the new guy," Alexa rightly pointed out. "That's why they put a sattrack on you."

  "I have some other action working. I put my street creds on display. I'm hoping to get an offer that will incriminate Mayor Bratano."

  "What the hell does that mean?" Alexa said.

  I waved this off. "I'm beginning to get a read on these guys. They think they have the game so rigged nobody can get to them. That' s why they pulled this bullshit tonight. They think they can't lose. It's making them careless."

  "I don't think there's even a furnished model in that condo building," Alexa said.

  "So what? Just put up a sign that says there is. I saw the Century 21 vacancy ads when I went there. All Ophelia's phony real estate agent has to do is say she let us use one."

  "What happened to your face?" Alexa was staring at my swollen nose and the beginnings of two black shiners, slightly visible in the dim light in the truck.

  "Slipped getting out of the shower."

  "Shane, damn it!" Alexa was losing patience.

  We all sat in silence for a minute.

  "What's this work in progress you were talking about?" Ophelia finally asked.

  "Can't tell. Sorry. It compromises one of my street contacts."

  "That's such bullshit!" Alexa was now flat-out angry.

  "Look, I think if this happens, it's gonna go down soon," I told them. "Give me two more days. After that, I'll fold up and get out."

  "One day," Alexa said.

  "Come on — "

  "One," she said, firmly. "I'm not kidding, Shane."

  She looked over at Ophelia, who, after a moment, nodded her agreement and said, "Listen, Shane. Put the belt back on. I can use that tracking signal just as well as they can. Til get the satcom guys at Quantico to dial in the frequency for me."

  "What about Rick Ross?" I asked. "You just gonna leave him down there to sweat it out?"

  "I'll talk to Tony," Alexa said. "We'll figure something out for him. You've got one day."

  Chapter 26

  "Leave your car here. We're gonna take a short trip," Alexa said, after Ophelia left. "We've got to go see someone."

  "I can't be seen with you."

  "Shut up," she said, and kissed me on the mouth. Then she stepped out of the truck and slammed the back door.

  I heard her climb into the front seat and a minute later Little Swiss started up and we were rolling. As I sat there, it was very clear to me that I was betting my life on what Agent Love could set up overnight with Century 21. But I needed enough time for my Sammy from Miami ploy to pay off. I doubted if one day was enough. My strategy with Alexa was to take the one day she'd given me, then try to come away with enough good stuff to extend the time frame another one or two days after that.

  But Alexa and Ophelia were right. I'd made mistakes in order to save lives. I'd compromised my cover to save Rocky and those twelve Crips. Both women knew I was skidding around on bullshit.

  My best choice was to stay the course and see where I was when the clock ran out.

  We drove for another twenty minutes and then the truck stopped and the engine shut off. Alexa opened the back door and said, "Follow me."

  When I climbed out of the truck, I realized immediately we were at the beautiful Malibu Beach Inn, a swank contemporary luxury hotel located on a strip of beach known as "Billionaire's Beach." Because it was situated in an exclusive enclave, the hotel afforded its guests a good deal of privacy.

  I followed Alexa to Room 26. She opened the door with a key from her purse and led me inside. The suite was gorgeous and had a private balcony with expansive ocean views.

  Then I saw him. Chooch was standing in the room, leaning against the wall, looking very tall, handsome and uncomfortable.

  "Tell him," Alexa said.

  "The chief-"

  "Forget the chief," she interrupted. "This isn't his family that's getting destroyed. It's ours. Tell him."

  "Tell me what?" Chooch asked, obviously still in the dark about what was going on, not sure why his mother had asked him to meet us here.

  Alexa had realized that it would be stronger coming from me so she hadn't told him any of it yet. But I couldn't speak. I just stood there.

  "Your father didn't do any of the things they said he did," she finally blurted. "It was all faked with my approval. He's gone undercover in Haven Park and he's down there risking his life to expose a corrupt police department and city government. I won't take the chance that he could be killed without having the opportunity to set things straight with you in person." She had a very determined look on her face.

  "I'll wait in the other room," she said.

  I took my son out onto the balcony. The surf was breaking on the cliffside rocks, frothing in the landscape lights from the hotel deck above us. I told Chooch everything that had happened — how we'd set up the sting. I explained that I'd never even met Tiffany Roberts, and why we had been instructed by Chief Filosiani to keep him in the dark.

  "I would have never said anything, Dad," Chooch said after I finished. I could tell that our lack of trust in him badly hurt his feelings.

  "How could they believe that I'd risk your life over stuff like that?" he said.

  "Because they don't know you."

  After a while I saw a sad look descend on him. "I'm sorry for what I said, Dad."

  He stood up and reached out to me. We hugged each other, locked in a long, silent embrace.

  "You know something funny?" I said after we finally parted. "I'd have been very disappointed if you'd acted any other way."

  Alexa joined us on the balcony ten minutes later and we talked about everyday, unimportant stuff. What was happening at USC, what courses his girlfriend, Del, was taking. It was great to be able to leave Haven Park behind for a little while. We told each other how happy we were to be a family again.

  "You can never tell anyone about this. Not even Del," Alexa cautioned Chooch. "Not until this is all finished and the department releases the truth."

  "Do you think there's anything that would make me risk Dad's life? Are you kidding, Mom? I'd die first."

  And I knew that's exactly what he would do.

  An hour later, when Chooch left, Alexa and I made love. I'd felt so empty these last days, so without hope, that the act of our lovemaking filled me, cleansed me, made me reborn again. Afterward we went out onto the balcony and sat holding hands.

  "You remember when we were in Aruba, that other time you were undercover going after bad cops?" Alexa reminded me.

  "Sure, I thought I'd lost you."

  She was referring to the case we worked several years ago, before we were married. I'd been undercover working the black market peso exchange where Fortune 500 companies were using their products to launder Colombian drug money. To set my cover, I had been asked by six rogue cops running the scam to shoot Alexa as my loyalty test. We had set up an elaborate hit where Alexa was wearing a Kevlar vest. I pulled the trigger, but didn't know that the rogue cops had put armor-piercing bullets in my gun. For two weeks, I thought I'd killed her. It plunged me into a deep depression. But we'd both survived.

  "I'm trying to tell myself that this isn't anywhere near as bad as that," she said, smiling at me. "If we could get through that, we can get through anything."

  But Alexa hadn't been down in Haven Park. She hadn't seen the way things worked there. Tow tickets, protection rackets, and extortion. Murder was just anothe
r dish on the cafeteria line.

  As I sat holding her hand, watching the waves explode in foam grenades against the craggy rocks below, I wondered if we would be able to survive again.

  Chapter 27

  Time was short, so I couldn't spend the night with Alexa no matter how much I wanted to.

  I sat in the back of Little Swiss while she drove to the lot by the Santa Monica Pier and parked. She opened the back door and joined me inside. We kissed goodnight and held each other.

  'Tin never gonna sign off on something like this again," she told me. "I can't take it."

  "It's an interesting thought," I said, "but if it's right, you'll do it again, because it's your job."

  It was a little past three A. M. when I got back to the hotel. I went straight to my room, set my alarm for seven A. M. and fell asleep.

  My next shift was a complete waste. As soon as I got to the station I found out Alonzo was scheduled to be in court all day testifying. Lieutenant Eastwood set me up for another dull day of shuffling paper.

  Over in city hall all anyone talked about was the big SWAT event at Haven Park High and how the feds' Special Tactics team had jumped our play. Most of the uniformed cops I talked to thought we had a rat in the department. Because I was Haven Park's greenest hoot, I was getting some serious stink eye.

  At end-of-watch I got into the Acura and pulled out of the parking lot. I'd used up most of my twenty-four hours and had accomplished nothing. I was scheduled to check in with Alexa as soon as I was EOW, so I returned to the Bicycle Club and called her from one of the pay phone banks in the casino lobby.

  "What happened?" she asked.

  "Alonzo was in court. I spent the day filing paper."

  While she was mulling that over I asked, "How about one more day?"

  I knew from the prolonged silence that followed that something was up.

  "Gimme another twenty-four hours," I pressed. "Today was a complete loss."

  "They still don't know you have that Mustang, right?"

  "I parked a few blocks away. Unless they get into the Hertz computer and start looking at contracts, it should still be clean."

  "Get in it and drive north. Take Pacific Boulevard. I'm notifying Agent Love. She'll make a field stop."

  "What's up?"

  "Homeland took over the case. They got spooked by all the AK-100s that were booked at the high school. You work for them now."

  I certainly didn't want my undercover op run by people I didn't know.

  "I told Ophelia I want you out of there, but it's a federal case now, so her people have to sign off."

  "I'll be careful, honey."

  "Shane, I need to be in the loop. You know what information hogs the feds are. You've got to stay in touch with me no matter what."

  "I'll call twice a day. I love you."

  After we hung up I walked the two blocks from the casino to where I'd left the rental. I got into the Mustang and drove out of Vista on Pacific Boulevard, heading north toward a commercial district filled mostly with warehouses and freight yards.

  I'd only driven four blocks when two black Navigators with tinted windows hedged me in at the curb. Four FBI guys in dark clothes swarmed the Mustang. I was pulled out of my vehicle at gunpoint, handcuffed and then pushed into the back of the lead Navigator. As soon as I was inside, it roared away. Seated beside me was Ophelia Love.

  "Sorry, but this bust was the best idea I could come up with on short notice."

  She reached over and uncuffed me. "Those weapons we took off the Locos last night are new Russian guns. Some of them were minted less than two months ago. My bosses think the Locos are moving this stuff for Russian mobsters who have ties with local Al-Qaeda cells. Homeland wants this pipeline shut down now."

  "I need more time."

  "Your wife wants you out of here. I told my local supervisor that I agree that you might be compromised. But he still wants us to try for a result. As point agent, it's my call, but everybody is breathing hard."

  "Today was a complete waste," I said. "Alonzo was in court."

  Ophelia sat for a long moment before she said, "I like your wife. Td like to do what she wants. Every day you stay under, your jeopardy increases.'

  "I'm up for it if you are," I told her.

  We need to wrap this up fast. I need you to wear a wire. You have to lure these crooks into conversations. Try to implicate somebody like Talbot Jones or Sergeant Bell. Somebody who, once we bust him, will roll over to save his ass. If you agree to the wire, I'll let you stay for one more twenty-four-hour period. Otherwise I'm pulling you now."

  Wearing a wire is an invitation to disaster because there's absolutely no excuse that works if you get busted. For that reason, I shoot my head no.

  "Then I'm pulling you."

  "You're not gonna pull me. This is a career case for you."

  "Then you're clone," she said.

  "Wear the wire or clear out? That's my choice?"

  She nodded, her mouth set in determination.

  "Gimme it," I said, holding out my hand.

  She opened her purse and pulled out a digital recorder and a mike. It was just a little larger than a Bic lighter.

  "You want me to send somebody from Tech Support over to wire you up?" she said.

  "No," I said, putting the recorder into my jacket pocket. "The last thing I need is another meeting with the feds. I'll figure it out."

  They dropped me at my rental car on Pacific. I got inside and, watching the mirrors for a tail, drove into Vista, parking again on the side street two blocks from the Bicycle Club. Then I hoofed it back to the hotel.

  I probably should have called Alexa from the lobby pay phone, but I didn't want another argument and I knew Ophelia would tell her what was happening, so I just went back up to my room and flopped on my bed. I was out in minutes. I slept like a dead man — which was what I almost became.

  Chapter 28

  When I woke up there were four sets of hands holding me down. I was looking up into Alonzo Bells brown frying-pan-shaped face.

  As soon as I opened my mouth to speak, he shoved a pair of socks between my teeth. I fought, but was rolled over onto my face. Handcuffs were snapped onto my wrists.

  Someone pulled a pillowcase over my head and my world went peach-orange. I had recognized two guys in the room from the day watch. One was a mid-watch officer named Gary Singleton, a Pasadena PD reject. Another was a black cop from the day watch, Roulon Green. Over by the door was a huge, overbuilt, linebacker-sized guy I'd seen once or twice during shift changes. I think his name was Horace Velario. I'd heard he was Alonzo's best friend from high school.

  Then Bell leaned down and whispered into my ear. "Here's the drill, m'ijo. You walk where we lead you. Trouble buys pain."

  I was pushed blindly out of the room, led across the carpeted hall and down some concrete fire stairs. I had no idea where we were or what time it was. Once we were out of the stairwell, our footsteps echoed loudly on hard concrete. I figured from the sound that we were leaving the casino through some kind of basement corridor.

  Then I was being pushed up into the backseat of either an SUV or a high van. I was sandwiched in with a man on each side. The engine started and we were in motion. I kept trying to talk through the sock jammed in my mouth, but every time I did, I caught a sharp blow to my rib cage.

  "Stay quiet," Alonzp growled.

  Maybe an hour later, the car turned off the paved street and we were driving on some kind of a rough dirt surface. My mind was racing, trying to figure this out. Had they found my cell phone in the elementary school bathroom and despite its waterlogged condition managed to retrieve the text message? Had they seen Agent Love's wire recorder that I'd carelessly left on the dresser, or had they missed it in their hurry to get me out of there? I was starting to panic.

  The car finally stopped and I was pulled out and forced to walk across uneven ground. I smelled the rich odor of moist soil mixed with the pungent, sweet smell of orange blossoms.
>
  I was pushed to my knees. The pillowcase was suddenly ripped off. My eyes adjusted quickly to the dark. I saw by the faint light of the quarter-moon that we were out in the middle of an orange grove someplace. I was surrounded by the entire Haven Park day watch as well as a few other cops from other shifts. All were dressed in street clothes. The sock was pulled out of my mouth, but my hands remained cuffed.

  Alonzo Bell took a position about ten feet away facing me. "We know you're the one who's been ratting us out," he said.

  I didn't respond. Same rule. Let the other guy go first. Learn as much as you can before saying anything.

  "We know you blew us in to the feds on the Crip ambush," he continued. "We know you met in that deputy chiefs condo in Manhattan Beach and were debriefed. We know almost all of it. If you want an easy death, you're gonna tell us everything else."

  My mind was racing through this problem, looking for an exit. Had Ophelia Love failed to lay down my condo cover story in time? Had Ricky Ross finally made good on his threat to kill me? Was there anything that would get me out of this?

  Whatever I said next, it needed to be convincing. They weren't going to make stupid mistakes.

  "You tell me everything," Bell said. "If it matches exactly what I already know, then you get a nice clean head shot and you're gone. You fuck around with me and I will blow off little pieces of you until you're begging me to finish it."

  My only shot was to bluff. "Go fuck yourself," I said angrily.

  "Not the response I'm looking for, Scully."

  "I'm not your rat. I don't know who's been selling you out, but after you kill me, your problem isn't gonna go away, because you got the wrong guy."

  "And that apartment you went to didn't belong to Chief Arnett?"

  "I told you. I was with Tiffany Roberts in the furnished model. You can believe me, or you can stick it up your ass. I'm fuckin' done arguing with you about this."

  He pointed his gun at me and fired. I think he was just trying to scare me, but the bullet came very close and nicked my left ear. I could feel blood running down the side of my face.