Shepherd's Fall

by W. L. Dyson

  “Why, Scott? Isn't your boss man enough to fight his own battles?”

  Jon climbed to his feet, his face red, mouth tight. He pushed Scott out of the way and, drawing back, punched Nick in his wound. This time, it was no act as Nick stepped back, doubling over as he fought not to black out.

  Brushing off his suit, Jon stood. “Cutter, kill them all. Then after midnight, dump the bodies in the harbor.”

  There was a pounding on the door. Jon nodded toward Lester. “Find out who it is.”

  Lester hurried over and inched the door open. Then he turned to Jon. “Your buyers are here.”

  “Now?” Jon looked at his watch, then shook his head.

  Lester stepped back as four men brushed in, pushing him aside. “Mr. Carver. I'm sorry for this intrusion, but my other business finished early. My trucks are here. Shall we just get this over with?”

  “Barlow. I wasn't expecting you until later tonight.”

  The man shrugged as he handed Jon a briefcase. “Like I said, I finished up early and decided to get my shipment and leave town.”

  “You were afraid of a setup. I told you to trust me, Barlow.”

  The man smiled. “Like I said, I'm a very cautious man, Mr. Carver. It's kept me alive a very long time. Shall we proceed?”

  Jon seemed to think it over a moment and then nodded. “Fine.” Barlow set the briefcase down on a crate and opened it. Jon looked inside, then pulled out several bundles of hundred-dollar bills. Jon flipped through them and then closed them inside the briefcase. “Your merchandise is in those crates. I presume you'd like to check them out before we conclude?”

  “You presume correctly.”

  Nick watched as one of Barlow's men opened several crates. Finally he nodded at Barlow.

  Just then, Annie stepped back a few steps and started babbling. Carver looked at her as if she were crazy.

  What is she doing?

  Barlow raised an eyebrow and then turned to Jon. “If you'll be so kind as to open those bay doors, Mr. Carver, my men will load the crates in my truck and we'll be on our way.”

  Jon instructed Ira to open the doors, then turned to Cutter. “Take our guests to the back and hold them there until we're finished with our business.”

  Cutter nodded. “Done.”

  Cutter motioned for Nick and Annie to move to the back of the room.

  Nick slowly made as if trying to stand up, reaching down inside his vest. He eased the knife out of the sheath and stood. Then he reached back and threw the knife toward its target.

  Jon's eyes widened in surprise. He grabbed Scott, trying to put the man in front of the knife, but there was no time. The knife caught Jon in the shoulder.

  Richie began to come after Nick, but before he could reach him, the warehouse erupted in chaos. Nick looked up to see Conner, Rafe, Steven, and Marti streaming in through the open bay doors. Scott rushed forward and was just as quickly flying backward, hitting the ground after a blow from Conner and sliding a full five feet before stopping. He didn't move.

  Nick saw Marti spin around to deliver a roundhouse kick to Richie, who was about to tackle Rafe. Steven came running, plowing into Jon. Barlow headed for the door, only to find Marti aiming a gun at his head, demanding that he hit his knees. He stopped and went down on his knees with his hands behind his head.

  Cutter started to move, and Nick headed him off with a blow to his throat. Gagging, Cutter staggered backward a few steps and then came charging back. Nick threw a punch, but Cutter blocked it and hit Nick in the stomach. Hard. Nick stumbled backward into Annie and knocked her down.

  “Get behind those crates and stay down,” Nick said.

  Annie nodded and ran.

  Nick moved forward. He and Cutter circled each other. Finally, Nick launched a roundhouse kick that clipped Cutter on the side of the head and sent him spinning backward to the ground. Nick didn't wait. He slammed Cutter with another kick to the side of the head and then one to the ribs. Cutter groaned and rolled over, curling up in a ball. Nick kicked him again, feeling no mercy for the murdering pig.

  Conner appeared at Nick's side. “We have them all in cuffs. You want me to call in the authorities?”

  Nick shook his head as he wiped blood from his mouth. “They'll be here any minute now. When they come, just raise your hands and make sure your badges are showing.”

  “Annie?” Nick called out. “You okay?”

  “I'm fine,” she replied as she stepped out from behind the crates.

  “You've done well,” he told her.

  She nodded absent-mindedly and walked over to Jon. Then Nick saw her pick up a gun and point it at Jon.

  “Don't do it, Zeena,” Nick said.

  “He killed Danny,” she replied stiffly. “He killed your daughter. And he tried to kill my sister.”

  “Because he thought she was you.”

  Zeena looked up at him, searching his face. Finally her shoulders sagged and her arm dropped. “How did you know?”

  “Because Annie has never flirted with me. And she would never pick up a gun,” he replied with a smile. “She called the cops when you started jabbering at her, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Where is she?”

  “At the hospital.” Zeena pushed her hair back and took off her Bluetooth earpiece, handing it to him.

  Nick stuck it up to his ear. “Annie? Good job, girl.”

  “How did you know?” Zeena asked when he handed her back the Bluetooth.

  “I saw the little Bluetooth in your ear. Nice move. Of course, it hurts that you didn't trust me enough to tell me.”

  She choked out a laugh. “Just figured a little extra insurance wouldn't hurt.”

  “One more question while I have you here. Who hit me in the warehouse?”

  Zeena flinched. “Sorry. That was Charlie. He tends to look out for me.”

  Suddenly, men in black SWAT gear were swarming in, armed to the teeth.

  “Hands up!”

  “Don't move. Drop your guns. On the ground. Now!”

  Nick shifted, moving in front of Zeena, and raised his hands. “Fugitive recovery agents here! Don't shoot!”

  The men nodded at Nick and began arresting the Carvers and their men. Not two minutes later, Baltimore police arrived on the scene and were informed the scene was secured. They looked happy enough to leave everything to the ATF.

  Then Nick noticed Cutter walking toward the back of the warehouse, and no one seemed to notice. “Get him. He killed my daughter. He's an escaped convict!”

  One of the SWAT men looked over at Nick, ignoring his words as he ripped open crates and began to lift out assault rifles.

  Cutter turned and walked back over to Nick, holstering his gun. “Peter Chamberland, ATF.”

  “You…you killed my little girl. You raped her and then you killed her.”

  “No sir. I did not. Your daughter is fine.” He looked around. “Where is she?”

  Zeena pointed to the door. “Marti carried her out of here.”

  Nick ran out of the building with Chamberland and Zeena on his heels. He found Marti outside in the parking lot, kneeling on the ground with Krystal in her arms.

  Marti looked up at them. “She's not dead. What did you give her?”

  “Diazepam,” Chamberland said. “Not much. Just enough to put her out for a little while.”

  Chamberland knelt down. “Krystal. Honey? Can you hear me? You can wake up now. Your daddy's here to take you home.”

  No response. Chamberland tapped her cheek lightly. “Krystal? Wake up now.”

  Nick almost tripped over his feet to get to his daughter's side. “Wh-what happened? Are you crazy?”

  Chamberland didn't even look up at him. “The blood's not real, Mr. Shepherd. I had to convince Richie she was already dead because he wanted me to kill her in front of you. I couldn't let it go that far, and I couldn't take the chance that if I hesitated, he might kill her himself just to torment you.” He looked up and met Nick's eyes
. “My men were going to come storming in here. I wanted your daughter out of the line of fire. Do you understand?

  “Krystal knew what I was doing. I explained it all to her. How she had to play this. That I was going to fire the gun but not hit her. We squirted this bottle of fake blood under her neck.”

  “Then why isn't she responding? What's wrong with her?” Nick was still finding it hard to believe this guy was telling the truth.

  “Relax, bro,” Marti interjected. “She's going to be okay.”

  “I gave her a little knockout drug. Harmless. She understood that I couldn't take a chance on her suddenly getting an itch or a twitch and someone seeing her moving.” He tapped Krystal's cheek again. “Krystal?”

  And then Nick saw Krystal's eyelashes flutter, and emotion hit him hard enough to hurt. “Krys? Sweetheart? It's Daddy.” He reached up and swiped at the tears that spilled down his cheeks. When her lips twitched, he knelt down and pulled her into his arms, grimacing as the effort pulled at his shoulder wound.

  Chamberland leaned over his shoulder. “Give her another minute and then try to wake her again. I have some stolen weapons to check on.”

  Nick saw that Krystal's eyes were open and that she was flexing her fingers. He put his arms around his daughter. “Krystal? Hey, honey.”

  “D-Daddy?”

  “Yeah, baby.” He brushed back the hair from her face, gently caressing her forehead. “It's all over.”

  “Did I do good?”

  Nick couldn't stop the little laugh that bubbled up out of him. “Yeah, baby. You did great.”

  Her lips curved in a little smile. “Can we go home now? I'm hungry.”

  Nick pulled her up into a hug. “Sure.” Then, still holding on to her, he pulled out his cell phone.

  “Who are you calling?” Marti asked.

  “Jessica.”

  “She's down the street. In the car.”

  “What? She was with you?” Nick gave Marti a look of disapproval, then dialed Jessica's number. “Honey? It's over. Yeah. Krystal's fine. Anxious to see you.” He handed the phone to Krystal. “Here, talk to your mom for a few minutes.” He couldn't believe he had called her “honey,” but what was done was done. He just couldn't hide his emotions at this point.

  While Krystal talked to her mother, Nick walked over to Chamberland. “Let me get this straight. You broke Richie out of jail, right?”

  “Yes. It was the only way we could get close enough to Jon to get to these weapons. I had to make sure Carver never suspected I was anything except a hired hit man. We've been working on getting close to him for two years, trying to get a handle on his operations. When all this came down, it was too important.”

  “And the two guards that were supposedly killed?”

  Chamberland nodded toward two men who were hauling crates. “Alive and well.”

  “And the buyer, Barlow?”

  “One of ours.”

  Nick shoved his hands in his pockets. “For what it's worth, thank you for taking care of my daughter.”

  Chamberland nodded, folding his arms across his chest. “She's a little spitfire, that's for sure. More guts than sense. Until she found out who I really was, she was ready to tear me apart.” He smiled at the memory. “I'm assuming she gets that from you.”

  Nick shrugged with a smile. “Feistiness runs in the family. By the way, one of Jon's men—name's Lester—he has a warrant out for his arrest. He's mine.”

  “I'll make sure that's dealt with.” Chamberland looked down at his feet and then back at Nick. “I'm sorry you had to go through this.” He put out his hand. “No hard feelings?”

  “Now that I know my daughter is fine, no hard feelings.” He shook Chamberland's hand. “How soon can I take her home?”

  “I'll clear all of you to go. I'm still trying to figure out how your men managed to get through our defenses. My men were all over this area.”

  Nick shot him a grin. “Professional secret. I could tell you, but then—”

  “Yeah, yeah, then you'd have to kill me.”

  “No, I'd have to hire you.”

  Chamberland's expression sobered. “We still need to talk about my men. The ones that I assume you have tied up somewhere at your office.”

  “Oh. Them. Yeah.”

  “Tonight, take care of your daughter. Tomorrow, we talk about assault on my men.”

  As Chamberland walked away, a black Town Car pulled up, and the driver opened the rear door. Benedict climbed out, leaning heavily on his cane as he walked over to Nick. “Nicely done, Nick.”

  “I assume Chamberland is one of yours?”

  “He is.”

  “So you're ATF.”

  Benedict nodded. “Rumors can occasionally be helpful. The longer people believe I'm a criminal bigwig, the better I can do my job as a federal agent.”

  “Well, I'm not sure I'm real happy with you using my daughter as bait, but right now, I'd like to concentrate on her.”

  “We didn't use her as bait, but when Carver brought her in, we couldn't give her back to you without blowing our entire operation. We'd spent too long working on it to blow it this close to the arrest.” Benedict looked around, a tiny smile hovering around his mouth. “The Carvers are finally out of business.”

  “I have one last deal for you, Benedict.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “I won't make noise about the fact that you allowed the abduction of a fifteen-year-old for the sake of an undercover operation. And you won't press charges for the assault and unlawful detainment of two of your men.”

  Benedict's lips twitched. “Deal.”

  Saturday, 5:45 p.m.

  Dundalk Marine Terminal, Baltimore

  As soon as they were cleared to leave, Nick took Krystal to where Jessica was waiting. His team followed closely behind, leading Lester in cuffs.

  Jessica climbed out of the car and ran toward Krystal, sweeping her up into a hug.

  Conner pulled out his keys. “Okay, everybody mount up. By the way, Nick, I need to talk to you about something else when we get back to the office.”

  “No problem.” Nick tossed his keys to Marti. “Can you take my SUV back to Prodigal? I'm riding with Jessica and my daughter.”

  Krystal talked nonstop all the way to Prodigal. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, she had said four times how she and Chamberland had concocted this plan and how important her acting skills had to be. How perfectly she'd played it.

  Never mind she'd been asleep through most of it. For some reason, she appeared to have forgotten that little detail.

  “Will I see you tomorrow, Dad?” Krystal asked as he climbed out of the car.

  Nick leaned over and looked at her in the backseat. “Sure. I'll pick you up around one. How about pizza at Leone's?”

  Nick watched the doubt and resignation fill her eyes as she nodded and turned away. She didn't believe him. She figured he'd cancel just as he had a thousand times before.

  “Hey, Krys.”

  She glanced up at him. “Yeah?”

  “If I'm not there by ten minutes after one, you have my permission to get a tattoo.”

  She stared at him and then gave a smile. “See ya tomorrow.”

  “Yes. You will.”

  Then he looked over at Jessica. “You're welcome to join us.”

  She smiled but shook her head. “Not this time. But I'll take a rain check.”

  “You got it.”

  21

  Saturday, 6:50 p.m.

  Prodigal offices, Baltimore

  It was nearly seven when Conner finally made it back to the office. Marti was in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee.

  “Took you long enough,” Marti quipped.

  “I dropped Zeena off at the hospital. How long before the coffee is done?”

  “Just a couple more minutes,” Marti told him. “I thought you were going to turn Zeena in.”

  “Nick is going to take her in tomorrow with Kline and bail her right b
ack out. She didn't miss her court date because she was trying to avoid it. She was just trying to stay alive.”

  “Good. I'm glad.”

  “Where is Nick?”

  “He was out of Excedrin, so he and Steven just ran down to the drugstore. They'll be right back. And they're bringing dinner back. Ribs from Smokin’ Joe's.” She wiggled her eyebrows with obvious delight.

  “Sweet.” Conner turned and went back to Nick's office to wait for his boss and to think.

  He couldn't shake the suspicion that someone tipped Carver off about his job at the bar. And someone questioned Annie, pretending to be one of them. And the brick through the window? Not Carver's style. And Nick said he knew someone was going to be letting Jon know that Nick was on his way to the warehouse. And that meant Carver had an inside source.

  When Marti appeared and set a cup of coffee down in front of him, he said, “Thanks. Can we talk?”

  “Sure.”

  Marti curled up in the corner of the sofa as Conner launched into his questions. “Do you get the feeling that Jon Carver knew far more than he should have?”

  “I was just asking myself the same questions.” Marti's foot started rocking. “Last night, when I was going through the files, I found something. I didn't think much of it at first, but the more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable I got.”

  “What was it, Marti?” Conner leaned forward.

  “Not yet, Marti.” Nick walked in, his arms full of bags and Styrofoam containers. He set them down on his desk. “And I will handle this. Not you.”

  “No way. We do this together,” Marti stated emphatically.

  Conner opened one of the containers and inhaled deeply. “Okay, what's going on? Why am I out of this loop?”

  Nick ignored the question, and next thing Conner knew, Nick's desk phone was on speaker. While it was dialing, Nick fired up his computer.

  Rafe answered. “I'm here.”

  “Where is he?”

  “At the Blue Star Motel on 40.”

  “Has he made any calls?”

  “A couple. The airlines about flights out later tonight and a call to Carver's cell twice, then Carver's office.”