by Bill Craig
Harker had no illusions as to how this day would end. There was a better than even chance that he would end up dead. But, not before Eduardo Torres and not before Raoul Cervantes. He would make sure that they died before he did, even if it took his last breath to manage it.
Torres had broken the rules when he took Lisa. Even Cervantes knew better than that. However, it was a lesson that Eduardo Torres would learn very soon. Harker stayed behind the other car, just far enough back not to lose them in the storm as they headed over the Causeway to Miami Beach.
Harker frowned. This was unexpected, but once he thought about it, it made sense. Torres would want to do the unexpected. He wouldn’t hang around where Harker would think to look for him. He should have thought of it sooner. Still, it was an odd twist, Cervantes leading him to Torres.
Lisa had managed to stretch the duct tape around her wrists to where it had some give in it. Maybe enough to get one hand free. She wished that she had paid more attention when she had interviewed Jason Hanson of Spy Escape and Evasion. He had demonstrated how to get out of being duct taped to a chair. Although, she was pretty sure his hands hadn’t been duct taped behind him.
She was scared. She would be the first person to admit it. Torres was a psychopath. That was readily evident. She had never thought that any of the people that AJ dealt with would attack her. The fact that she was a reporter was usually protection enough. Not this time though. Torres had kidnapped her anyway. It pissed her off. So, Lisa decided to use that anger as she worked her hands free. Once she had them free, she knew that she could get loose. Once she was loose, she would show that psychopath that had kidnapped him a thing or two!
Santino Morales checked his pistol as they drove across the bridge to Miami Beach. He knew where Torres was hiding. Wharf rats always ran to certain hidey holes. Torres was nothing but a wharf rat with delusions of grandeur. He had strutted around for years, preening as the right hand to Mr. Cervantes. Except he had fucked up, and then kept compounding his mistake.
He had brought AJ Harker into things by not taking care of the girl himself, and then he had gone and taken Harker’s girlfriend who was also a fucking reporter for the Miami Herald. Estupido! Morales shook his head. It would give him a great deal of personal satisfaction to put a bullet in Torres head and then take his place as Mr. Cervantes right hand man!
The rain had finally moved on out to see as he entered the Miami Beach area. He headed towards Stillwater Drive. There were some remote houses there that opened up onto Biscayne Bay. Harker wondered if one of them belonged to Eduardo Torres, or if it belonged to Cervantes and Torres was using it. It had to be one or the other. It really didn’t matter to Harker one way or the other as long as he was able to recover Lisa. That was his priority for the moment. After that, he would eliminate Torres and Cervantes!
Eduardo Torres threw his cell phone across the room, shattering it on the wall. He had just got finished with a call from Raoul Cervantes. The boss wanted him to let the woman go! Torres wasn’t ready to do that just yet.
He needed to draw Harker out into the open, make the man come after him. Cervantes didn’t understand that. He was too short sighted to understand that Harker was an inconvenience, nothing more! Cervantes had said that Morales was coming to bring him in for a conference.
Except Eduardo knew what that meant. Morales was coming to kill him and release the girl. There was no way that Torres could let that happen. Not yet anyway. No, he had to kill AJ Harker first! Santino Morales climbed out of the car in front of the house, as did the driver and the other shooter. He kept his weapon in hand as he moved up the sidewalk to the front door. He didn’t plan on arguing with Eduardo. He would follow the orders that El Jefe Cervantes had given him. Eduardo would die!
Chapter Eighteen
Sylvia Cain pulled up at the curb across the street from where Raoul Cervantes was in hiding. Harker had already left, following the trio of shooters that Cervantes had send after Eduardo Torres. It had taken her most of the day working her informants and following a trail of destruction caused, she suspected, by AJ Harker. It had finally led her here.
She looked around and was surprised not to see Harker lurking nearby. Given the hell he had been raising all over town looking for Cervantes, what in the world could have pulled him off the trail? She shook her head. It was hard telling. Sylvia pulled a small pair of binoculars from her purse. They also container a video camera. Sylvia lifted them to her eyes and scanned the building.
There was nothing obvious, like armed men guarding the property. Would Raoul Cervantes be alone and unguarded? Or, had he already moved to a different location. That was something that she wanted to know. She couldn’t just go up and knock on the door, not without blowing the undercover identity that she had spent the past two years building.
That she was working undercover trying to bust Raoul Cervantes was a secret that she had kept from Harker. The death of her niece had hit her hard, especially after finding out that she was working for one of Cervantes’ front companies. Emma had stumbled onto the information that she had been searching for. Why Emma had decided to take it to Harker instead of bringing it to Sylvia, only God in heaven above knew.
The why would never be known, but Emma had paid for it with her life. Sylvia felt guilty about Emma’s death. If she had been doing her job better, then Emma might still be alive. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Harker’s number. She barely noticed that it had stopped raining.
Lisa Castela searched the room she was being held captive in. The only weapon she had been able to find was a chair. She would hit Torres with it when he next entered the room! Lisa Castela had used the chair to climb up into a bay window. She was trying to figure out a quiet way of breaking it when she saw a dark colored sedan pull into the driveway. It parked, and three men got out. They were all holding guns. Her eyes went wide as her brain quickly processed what she was seeing. This was a hit squad! She had seen them before in her time as a journalist when she had been in El Salvador. Suddenly she was concerned about being quiet than just getting the hell out the window and away from there. One thing Lisa was sure of is that the men she had spotted were not about to leave any witnesses alive to finger them!
Thinking quickly, she tore down the curtains and balled them around her fists. The she climbed down and got the chair, slamming it against the window as soon as she heard the doorbell ring. It helped cover the sound of the breaking glass. She climbed back up into the window again and used her curtain protected hands to knock the remaining shards of glass loose. The she scrambled out of the window and shaking the curtains off as she ran for the street.
Behind her, she could hear the sound of guns going off inside the house. Lisa reached the street and started running back towards 86th street. Suddenly, Harker’s car was skidding to a stop beside her. She tore the passenger door open and jumped in She threw her arms around Harker and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, just as tightly.
“Buckle up!” he snapped, focusing his attention on the street in front of him. Lisa obeyed even as he stomped on the gas and the Jeep Compass shot forward like a rocket. She looked up in time to see the dark-colored sedan backing quickly out of the driveway of the house where she had been held captive. The car started towards them, moving fast, but not as fast as Harker.
“Harker, what the hell are you doing?” Lisa demanded from the passenger seat.
“Better that you don’t know,” he told her.
“AJ, what is happening?”
“You ever hear of a game called chicken?” He asked her, and she shook her head.
“That’s what’s happening. Get down as low as you can,” Harker yelled back.
“Oh, God!” Lisa moaned, as she curled up into as much of a ball as she could. She closed her eyes, listening to the roar of the engine as the Jeep accelerated even more.
Eduardo Torres was surprised when the doorbell rang. He wasn’t expecting anyone. He drew his pistol from its holster as he headed for
the front door. Suddenly, it burst open and two men with shotguns stepped inside. Torres fired, killing the first man as the second fired at him. Torres hit the floor rolling, but felt the sting of buckshot tearing into his shoulder. He fired again, this time hitting the second shot-gunner in the face. Torres kept his gun pointed at the door. He recognized Santino Morales as he stood just outside the door. Torres fired again, forcing Morales to duck back.
Torres got to his feet and ran to one of the dead gunmen, snatching up one of the twelve-gauge shoot guns and working the pump one-handed to put a live round into the chamber. He swung the muzzle into the doorway and pulled the trigger, then stepped out with his pistol raised to fire. Morales was diving into a dark-colored car in the driveway. Torres fired again, putting a hole in the windshield as the car backed out with smoking tires and took off down the street.
Cursing, Torres ran back to the room where he had left the girl. He unlocked the door and threw it open. The room was empty. He spotted the broken window and cursed again. The girl was gone, and so was his leverage against Harker. Torres headed for the dock out back. He untied the motorboat and jumped it, hurrying forward and turning the key to start the motors. He pushed the throttle forward and the boat fairly leapt out into the bay. Soon, he was racing across the bay, away from Miami Beach and back towards Miami proper.
Morales jerked the wheel and he shot off the road, as the white Jeep Compass skidded to a halt. The sedan was airborne and then hit nose first in the waters of Biscayne Bay. His head slammed forward to meet the airbag that shattered his nose and knocked him out. The car slowly sunk beneath the waters . . .
Harker backed up and did a K-turn, driving back to where the sedan had left the road and then land to hit the water. He skidded to a halt and was out of the Jeep, pistol in hand, as he scanned the water. The only thing visible was an oil-slick from where the car had gone under. Harker took in a deep breath and let it out. He walked back to the car and climbed in.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“You mean aside from being so scared I wet my pants?” Lisa demanded.
“Aside from that?”
“Yes, I’m okay, Harker. What the hell was that all about?” Lisa demanded.
“You were in danger, kiddo. I wanted to make sure that you weren’t hurt or going to be hurt anymore,” Harker told her.
“I thank you for that, AJ. But I’m pretty sure the guy in that car wasn’t the one that kidnapped me.”
“I am too, Lisa. But I also know what kind of sick bastard he was. There was no way I was going to let him live.”
“Take me home, AJ, and let me borrow your phone so I can call the paper,” Lisa rolled her eyes.
“I can do that,” Harker told her, handing her his cell phone.
“Harker Investigations,” Tina answered the telephone. She had made sure that the office phones and AJ’s calls were all forwarded to her phone.
“Who is this?” asked a female voice on the other end.
“Tina Mendez, Mr. Harker’s secretary,” she replied coolly.
“I need to talk to Harker.”
“Give me your name and number and I’ll have him give you a call back,” Tina said softly.
“My name is Sylvia Cain. I’m Emma’s Aunt.”
“I remember you,” Tina said, and asked, “Can I take a message?”
“Yes, tell him I believe I’ve located Raoul Cervantes,” Sylvia told her.
“Stay where you are, and I’ll do my best to get ahold of him and relay the news,” Tina said, before hanging up. Something about Sylvia Cain bothered her. She couldn’t quite put her finger one what it was. Just something about her didn’t ring true.
Harker did one better than just driving Lisa home, he drove her to the Miami Herald building and escorted her to the newsroom.
“I want you to stay here until this is over. You’ll be safer,” Harker told her.
“You need to be careful as well, AJ. I don’t want to lose you,” Lisa whispered.
“You won’t,” Harker told her before he kissed her. She smiled, and he returned it before turning and heading for the elevator. Jim Gershwin, the night editor spotted her and ran to her.
“Lisa, where the hell have you been?” Gershwin demanded.
“I was kidnapped by a hitman working for Raoul Cervantes,” Lisa replied, walking towards her desk. Gershwin was close behind her.
“How do you know?” Gershwin asked.
“Because he told me that’s who he worked for. Do you want me to write the story first or call the police first?”
“Write the story and send it straight to my desk. Then, we will call the cops and let them know that you’re safe!” Lisa nodded and booted up her computer.
Eduardo Torres parked the stolen boat at the Miami Marina. It was fairly quiet after the storm had passed through. He wondered if the cops were looking for him yet. He hated having to leave Harker’s woman behind alive. It would have brought him a great deal of pleasure to have seen Harker’s face when he discovered her dead body. More than likely however, Morales and the boys had been ordered to kill him and let her go.
Torres snarled a silent curse as he made his way to the parking lot. There were still plenty of vehicles in the parking lot, many belonging to live-a boards, those who lived on their boats. It would be easy enough to steal a car. He wanted to find out why the boss had sent Morales and the others after him. He had been assigned the job of finding and disposing of Harker. He wanted to know what had changed.
“What is it, honey?” Harker answered the phone. He had spotted Tina’s number on the caller ID.
“Sylvia Cain called. She says she thinks she knows where Cervantes is,” Tina told him.
“Give me her number. How is Manny doing?”
“Improving every hour. The captain had to order him to stay at the hospital until after he sees the doctor in the morning. Okay, Here’s the number,” Tina told him before rattling it off to him. Harker scribbled the number down on a post it notes pad that he kept in the Jeep. After hanging up with Tina, he dialed Sylvia Cain.
“Sylvia, AJ Harker here. I understand you think you’ve found our guy?”
“I’m pretty sure of it. Do you want the address?” she asked.
“Of course,” Harker replied. He wrote it down as she rattled it off. He recognized the address at once. “I know where that is. Don’t do anything until I get there.”
“I won’t, just please hurry. This son of a bitch is responsible for the death of my niece,” Sylvia said, before hanging up. Harker hung up too and stepped on the gas. The location wasn’t that far from him.
Sylvia looked at the phone. Had she done the right thing bringing Harker in to do her dirty work? She had no doubt that Harker planned on killing Cervantes. She could have walked in and pulled the trigger herself, but then her career at the DEA would have been over. She wasn’t quite ready to do that yet. Plus, Emma needed to be avenged!
Sylvia stuffed her phone back into her purse. Her fingers brushed the grip of her Glock 19 tucked inside a special compartment built into her purse. She wished that she could be the one to pull the trigger and put a bullet into Raoul Cervantes head . . .
Chapter Nineteen
Harker was surprised to see that the address that Sylvia Cain had given him was different than the building he had followed the three goons working for Cervantes from. He looked around for Sylvia Cain, but didn’t see her, but his gut told him that she was nearby. He pulled out his cell phone and called her.
“I know you’re here, Sylvia, so, where are you?” Harker asked when she answered.
“Across the street and two cars behind where you’re parked,” Sylvia answered.
“How did you find him so quickly?”
“I have my ways,” she tried to sound mysterious.
“Who do you work for Sylvia? Really?” Harker asked.
“DEA. But Emma was my niece. If I had done my job better, she wouldn’t have been killed,” Sylvia sighed.
&n
bsp; “You don’t know that, Sylvia,’ Harker told her.
“Yes, I do. I didn’t find out she was working for Costanza until she was dead. I heard that you uncovered what she found,” Sylvia asked.
“I did, but I still don’t know why she was bringing it to me,” Harker said softly.
“I think I might know.”
“Are you going to tell me or leave me guessing?”
“I used to talk about you as the only cop that was never afraid to go after Raoul Cervantes.”
“I guess that would do it. I wondered why she came to my home,” Harker replied.
“I never meant for that to happen to her,” Sylvia said, quietly.
“I imagine not. But it did. You have to live with that and so do I,” Harker whispered.
“Believe me, Harker, I know that. I wish I could pull the trigger on Cervantes myself. But I can’t, not if I want to keep my career intact.”
“So, you want me to do it for you.”
“I thought I did.”
“But now?”
“I don’t know. I just know that Cervantes has to pay for what he did to Emma.”
“I agree with that, too.”
“Don’t let him get away, Harker.”
“I won’t,” he told her.
Harker climbed out of his car and made his way across the street despite traffic. He had ended the call and dropped his cell phone into his pocket. The doors were open, and he walked into the building.
Harker drew his weapon as he reached the elevator. He checked to make sure that he had a bullet in the chamber. He wanted to take Raoul Cervantes down, one way or another. It didn’t matter to him if it was legal or not. He just wanted to end Cervantes. Harker kept his weapon out of sight as he waited for the elevator to return to the ground floor. When it did, he stepped inside and punched the button for the penthouse. Because he knew that Cervantes wouldn’t live anywhere else.
