by S. D. Thames
Before I had much time to ponder that, I heard a horn blaring in the distance.
Then I noticed it out the corner of my eye.
A white work van cutting across southbound traffic on Dale Mabry.
Swerving fiercely into our parking lot.
And barreling towards us like a tank in battle.
C-Rod had no time to brace himself before the van crashed into his side of the Malibu. The collision knocked him into me, head first. The jolt nearly knocked me out, and left me feeling like I’d just gone a few rounds with George Foreman circa 1976.
I held on just enough to see C-Rod’s head jerk back again. I couldn’t tell how badly he was injured, other than that his face was covered in blood. I was about to check on him, but a government-issue Glock got in the way. Shields waved it at me, clad in the same disguise he’d worn the night he assaulted me in Mattie’s office. I figured he’d been trailing us when he called. Probably placed the call to confirm our location, and that I had the DVDs.
“Where are they?” he screamed through his mask.
He pulled me out of the car and pressed the gun into my head.
I squinted in the afternoon sun. Keeping my eyes on Shields, I still noticed the bystanders in the parking lot.
Shields knew he didn’t have much time. “Where the hell are they?” he screamed again.
“I don’t have them,” I lied.
Just then, the distant shrill of a siren interrupted us, and he spotted my backpack on the floor of the Malibu. He pushed me away and made a dive for the bag. I knew if he got the DVDs, I could kiss Angie goodbye. I dove for him and grabbed the back of his head and lunged at him hard.
His head flew back, and I could feel his face smack against the car door.
He turned around with the gun. The sirens couldn’t have been more than two blocks away now. He knew he was out of time. “You bring them to the condo. Meet me in the garage in two hours. And make sure you have those videos with you.”
I nodded. “I’ll give you the videos for the girl.” I glanced at the van. Angie had to be in there. I thought about trying to go after her now and put an end to this, but I had no angle on Shields. Plus, if we cornered him too soon, he’d have no reason not to put bullets into Angie, me, and probably the first street cop who showed up. It wasn’t worth the risk.
“Just be there, Porter. And don’t forget. You come alone, or everyone dies.”
Shields ran for the van, and in no time he was racing through the parking lot and exiting on the other side.
I turned to check on C-Rod. He was out cold, and would probably be out of service the rest of the day. I realized that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, as I couldn’t see C-Rod letting me do what I had to do today, or at least doing it alone.
I could see the police cars now. I knew if I stuck around any longer, I’d be spending the rest of the day with Tampa’s Finest answering too many questions. I would certainly miss my date at SkyGate. I’d have some explaining to do for leaving the scene of this crime, but that would have to wait for later.
I grabbed my backpack, crossed a few parking lots, and called my ride.
Meanwhile, I called Bob Hunter and told him there’d been a change of plans.
Hector picked me up fifteen minutes later in his work van. I hopped in, and the first thing I told him was not to ask any questions. For some reason, that seemed just fine with him.
Hector kept me hidden, and he helped me burn the time I needed to kill before my date with Shields. We spent the afternoon on a call in Temple Terrace. While Hector disappeared inside a ranch home in a nice wooded subdivision, I stayed in the van, exhausted but unable to sleep, all the while doubting whether I was doing the right thing. Taking it all to the cops now might have been the right thing to do. But I had no doubt Shields was a caged animal. He had everything to lose and little to gain. His only hope was to get the videos and to work something out with me. I had to make him think that was possible, or that he stood a chance of getting out of this alive.
Hector left the radio playing. The local news mentioned something about Dane Parker’s commanding lead in the race for Florida Attorney General, and that his campaign was hosting a reception at the downtown Hilton tonight, on the eve of the primary. I wondered whether I’d get to pay him a visit then.
I might’ve dozed off. Maybe I wanted to dream. Oddly enough, I wanted to see Gus. I missed him already, and I still had so many questions to ask him—perhaps most immediately, whether he’d be showing up at SkyGate if things went south. After all, wasn’t that what guardian angels are for?
Then I cringed, wondering how he’d answer that question.
Hector finally returned. It was only then that I realized how long he’d been gone. “Son of a bitch,” he growled as he started the engine. “I could use a beer.”
I realized he’d meant that to be a question. I checked the time. “Sorry, buddy. I’ll have to take a rain check.”
He shrugged and asked me where I wanted to go.
I told him he could drop me off downtown at a place we knew all too well.
He had me there in twenty minutes. He pulled the van alongside the entrance to the garage. “This will be fine,” I told him.
“You sure you’re okay, Milo?”
I nodded and told him we’d talk soon, though I didn’t have much confidence in the truth of that statement. So I hopped out of the van.
Entering the garage below SkyGate, I felt like I was entering a cave on a deserted island. Then a boxy little red Benz SUV pulled in and brought me back to reality. Its headlights helped me find my way through the garage. I wasn’t sure where I was going or where the hell I was supposed to meet Shields, so I just kept walking.
The garage grew darker. I heard a door slam and an engine started purring. Then I heard a car moving, apparently exiting the other side of the garage. I turned a corner and saw nothing but a long row of cars parked in a dim corridor. I could barely make out a sign for the elevator at the end of the aisle, so I started walking in that direction. I’d only made it a few steps when my phone rang.
I hit answer, but said nothing. Nor did I hear anything. But I did feel something: the familiar pressure of a gun to my head.
“Good to see you, too, lieutenant.”
“Shut up,” he said. “And drop the bag.”
I dropped my backpack.
“Hands on top of your head.”
I obeyed. He frisked me.
“You’re good at that,” I said. “A real professional.”
“Screw you, Porter.”
“See, no guns. No wire. I listened, Shields.”
“Shoes off,” he said.
I obeyed, apologizing that I hadn’t showered in a while.
He kept the gun on me while he searched the contents of my backpack. He found what he was looking for and pulled out the DVDs. Then he threw my backpack across the garage. “Let’s go,” he said.
“I should tell you, Shields, that I had a problem with one of your stipulations.”
“What?” he hissed.
“I had to make a backup. You know I couldn’t walk in here without some security.”
He sighed and said, “Follow me. And keep your mouth shut.”
He kept the gun to my side and escorted me to the elevator. Once inside, he triggered a key fob that allowed him to select Penthouse.
I grinned at his ease of access. “Is that a perk for Scalzo’s VIPs, or just some evidence you pulled from the file?” I asked.
“What part of ‘shut up’ don’t you understand?”
“All of it.”
He held the gun tight and grimaced at me. “You know I could kill you right now?”
“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”
“Funny? Who’s holding the gun?”
“You tell me.”
He lowered it. “Anyone gets in this elevator, you keep your mouth shut.”
“So, how’s Parker doing today? He must be a little uneasy, cutti
ng this so close to the primary tomorrow.”
“Thanks for your concern, Porter. Don’t worry. This is just about over.” The elevator started moving—up, up and away.
I leaned against the wall behind me and cleared my throat. “So you two must be really close. All this to protect him?”
“I would’ve expected someone like you to understand.”
“What do you mean? Someone who’s been in combat?”
He nodded. “Exactly.”
“You could care less about Parker. You’re doing this to save your own ass, and to protect the coattails you hope to start riding.”
“I think you hold yourself in too high an esteem, Porter. Guess you wouldn’t understand after all.”
His smug grin made my blood boil. I thought about telling him the gig was up, that C-Rod knew everything, had seen the video, and even knew about Alexi. But that would just push him over the edge.
Thinking all that must have made me look uneasy, because he asked me what was wrong. I didn’t say anything. Then he said, “Don’t worry, Porter, it’s all about to end.”
The elevator opened to the penthouse lobby, and Shields nodded for me to go first. As we passed through the lobby toward Scalzo’s door, I nodded up at the video camera. “I guess you got that taken care of too, eh, lieutenant?”
“What do you think?”
He unlocked the door and opened it. The apartment felt like the A/C hadn’t run all week, which it probably hadn’t. We made it into the living room.
I heard her grunting before I saw her, tied up and gagged on the couch.
“See, Porter, just like I said. She’s alive.”
I stared down at Angie. She looked up at me with desperate eyes and moaned something I couldn’t make out. Still, I was pretty sure what she was trying to say.
Shields approached and gave me an obligatory whip with his gun to make sure he had my attention. I met her eyes again and saw that there was a lot going on in there. But I could see that she still trusted me, and I wanted her to know that, so I nodded to her.
“So, Porter,” Shields said. “Congrats on figuring everything out. You’ve made quite the mess. Now it’s time to clean it up.”
I looked to Shields. “You got the DVDs. Now let her go.”
He erupted in laughter. “You didn’t really think that would work, did you? I mean, you already told me these aren’t the only copies you have.”
“I had to make copies, Shields. Otherwise, you could’ve whacked me downstairs. Let her go. You know this can’t end well.”
“You’re not seeing it right, Porter. There’s really only two options here, and both of them require her taking a bullet. We clear about that?”
He was apparently waiting for me to agree, so I said, “I heard you.”
“Good. So the only question remaining is whether you’re going to join her.”
“How you figure?” I asked, trying to glance some love in Angie’s direction.
“It’s pretty simple. You can take a bullet with her, or you can work with us.”
“Work with you?”
He nodded. “We could use someone like you, someone not on the force who can do the things you can do. Let’s just say we’re impressed, and there’s room here for you to make a lot of money.” Madness glowed in his eyes, and I could tell he thought his pitch had a lot of appeal to a guy like me. “The sky’s the limit here. Think about it, Dane isn’t stopping at Attorney General. He’s got his sights on governor, and from there, who knows?”
“You’ve given me a lot to think about, Shields. I think you’ve got a bright future ahead.” I glanced at Angie again and saw the fear growing on her face as she wondered whether I was buying what Shields was selling. “How do I know you don’t just want the videos back?”
Shields shook his head. “Easy, Porter, we let you keep the videos. You hang onto them for leverage, so we’ll know we can all trust each other.” He waited for me to respond. “Come on, Porter. This has your name written all over it.”
He waited. I still said nothing.
“Otherwise, you take a bullet. So does she. And you’ll take the fall for it all, and a lot more.”
I grinned. “How about a little time to think it over?”
“Time’s up. What’s it gonna be?”
I stared at him for a moment. His eyes were crazy, mad crazy. I told him, “I think we can work something out.” Then I nodded toward Angie. “Can I say something to her?”
He nodded back. “Make it quick. We don’t have much time.”
I returned to Angie. All the fear in her face seemed to have burned away, leaving nothing but resignation. I leaned over, got close.
She relaxed and listened.
I whispered in her ear. It took a little longer than I expected. Then I stood still and looked her in the eyes again to make sure she’d heard me right. There was some confusion there, but it seemed to pass after a moment, and I finally felt we were on the same page.
“I’m sorry,” I said loud enough for Shields to hear.
She nodded, faintly, but still uneasy.
“Well?” Shields said.
“Can we talk alone for a minute, me and you?”
“Why?”
I sighed. “This isn’t easy for me. I don’t want her to hear what I have to say. And I need some fresh air.”
I started walking toward the balcony door.
He followed me, gun in tow, and he put it to my head when I touched the door handle. “Where the hell you think you’re going?” he shouted.
“I said I need some fresh air. And to talk to you alone.”
I opened the door, and he pushed me harder with the gun.
“Not another move!”
I shrugged. “So shoot me. You’ll never get the videos.”
“Porter, I know everyone you know. I’ll start with that neighbor of yours who picked you up today and dropped you off. After I’m done with him, I’ll move onto your girlfriend and her fat fuck brother. And don’t think I won’t pay the judge a visit either. You don’t have many friends here, and it’s only a matter of time.”
I kept walking. “Sounds like you got it all figured out.”
He joined me on the balcony and left the door open. A warm breeze met us, and tussled Shield’s hair in his eyes.
“I love this view,” I said. “I really love it.”
“Porter, you’re out of time. I’m about to go in there and put a bullet in her head. You need to give me your answer before I do. Otherwise, you’re going to join her.”
“I’m getting to it, Shields. That’s why I wanted to talk alone. I need this perspective, you see?”
“You’re fucking nuts.”
“I know, Shields. And you know why, don’t you? I mean, come on, man. The brotherhood you and Parker have. I can see why you’d lay your life down for him. But why would I? Why would I lay down my life for that girl in there?”
“You mean that whore?” he said.
“Exactly,” I said. “It just doesn’t make sense, does it? Unless I loved her. I mean really loved her.”
“You telling me you love that whore, Porter? You telling me that?”
“No, Shields. I’m telling you about my perspective. And about how it’s changed so much this week.”
“I’m not following you. Honestly, I could care less. This is over.”
He stepped away, but I pulled him back.
“You’re not seeing the big picture, Shields. I mean, come on, look across the river. See, over there?”
“You talking about the university?” he said with no shortage of frustration.
“Yeah, I mean the minarets.”
“The what?”
“The pillars that look like they belong on a mosque?”
“Porter, I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
“I’m telling you, Shields. I’m confessing why I’m doing it. It’s the least I can do.”
“Doing what?” he asked.
“This. You
know how many times I’ve driven by that building and thought of bad memories of the war? Thought of death. Thought of things I’d seen, mistakes I’d made. People I’d killed, and people I’d let die. And for what? For what, Shields?”
“Porter, you’re out of your mind.”
“True, but hear me out. Look over there. Have you ever really looked at them?”
But Shields was staring only at me, and with the gun pointed in a way that told me he was only a second or two away from pulling the trigger.
“The minarets, Shields. Look over there.”
“This is over,” he said, and aimed the gun at my head.
I raised my hand. “I need to tell her one more thing.” I pointed my mouth at Angie and shouted, “Angie, you ever heard the parable of the Lost Sheep?”
Shields’s hand started shaking with anger and frustration.
Angie grunted something that sounded like a yes.
“I kept running into that parable this week, and the more I learned about you and saw what was going on around us, the more I kept thinking about you, Angie, thinking that you were the Lost Sheep.”
She nodded in agreement, and a new wave of tears welled in her eyes.
“I was wrong, Angie. It’s not about you.”
I could see the confusion in her eyes, but she cried too.
“No, Angie, it’s not about you. It’s about me. I’m the Lost Sheep.”
I looked back to my assailant, who was pointing the gun at my head. “I’m ready, Shields. I get it all now, you know? I see it now. You know, I met a man this week. He totally changed my perspective about those minarets. When I look over there now, I see hope. I see redemption. I see deliverance.”
Shields sighed. “That’s it. This is over.” He turned the gun away from me and started in the direction of Angie. But I stopped him and asked, “What do you see, Shields?”
He turned the gun back in my direction, and started to say, “I see …”
But just then, I gave the signal, the wave of my arms we’d discussed, and I hit the deck.
In the split second that followed, Shields lowered the gun and pointed it in my direction. This time, he looked intent on shooting me. Fear and anger burned in his glare as the first bullet hit him—a clean shot to the chest that knocked him against the opened balcony door.
