Solid Gold

by Stephanie Andrews

  “Get out of the car,” yelled Carter, loud enough for them to hear him.

  “We get out of the car,” said Ruby calmly. “No sudden moves.”

  So they both exited the car and walked around to the front of it, Ruby leaning heavily on her cane. They stopped about ten feet from Carter. He stepped forward to meet them.

  “Why are you following me?” he asked casually.

  Ruby spoke to him rapidly in Czech, making angry gestures with her cane.

  Carter laughed and turned to Park. “And you, I suppose you only speak Korean?”

  Park opened her mouth and then closed it again. “I never really learned,” she admitted, “beyond the basics.”

  “Does that embarrass you?” asked Carter.

  “It embarrasses my parents,” admitted Park, blushing slightly.

  “That’s rough,” said Carter, seeming to mean it. “And so are your surveillance skills. I made you at the gym three days ago.”

  Park looked alarmed.

  “If you are going to show up to exercise at the exact same time as I do, three days in a row, you should try to be more nondescript.”

  “I stood out?”

  “With those tight exercise clothes, in a hotel where most of the guest are 40 and 50-year-old executives? Yeah, you stood out.”

  “Enough,” barked Ruby.

  “Oh, she speaks!” Carter’s voice dripped sarcasm.

  “Antonio Negron,” Ruby said flatly. Carter’s face changed immediately, and he took a step closer to Ruby, studying her face.

  “How do you know that name?” he asked in a low voice.

  “He is a mutual enemy of ours. We need to know what you know. We need to find a way to neutralize him.”

  Carter shook his head in disbelief. “I’m the FBI,” he said with exasperation. “I’m not telling you anything about anyone. It’s you that needs to start talking, or you’re going to find yourself in a cell so fast your accent will arrive five minutes later. Who the hell are you two?”

  “You don’t know who we are?” Ruby asked.

  “I have no freakin’ idea, lady, but you better sta—”

  “Good,” said Ruby, and swung her cane up and between his legs with great force. As Carter gasped and doubled over, Ruby choked up on her cane and brought the handle down hard on his gun hand. The gun fell free and skittered across the pavement. Park turned and delivered a side kick to the bent over agent, sending him off balance and onto the pavement.

  “Quick, let’s get out of here,” said Ruby and headed for her Subaru.

  “Stop right there!” a voice rang out, and two men emerged from the shadows at the end of the alley, both with guns drawn. “Federal agents, you are under arrest.”

  “Oh, shit,” said Ruby. They were still a few yards from the car. “We’ll never make it.”

  “Put your hands in the air, now! Drop the weapon.”

  They put their hands in the air. Park had a look of panic in her eyes, Ruby sighed in resignation as her cane clattered to the ground. The two men approached them, stopping ten feet away. Behind them, Carter had pulled himself to his feet.

  “Turn around,” he commanded. They did so. “That was—”

  “Embarrassing?” interrupted Ruby.

  “Yes, frankly,” he said, taking slow and steady breaths, “but also stupid. You’re in a world of trouble now, when we could have done this in a civil manner.”

  “What do you know about Antonio Negron?” asked Ruby.

  Carter barked a laugh. “You are a piece of work, lady. I told you, I’m not telling you anything.”

  “You know he’s untouchable,” Ruby pressed.

  “Nobody’s untouchable,” Carter retorted.

  “He’s a beloved businessman, who donated millions to the earthquake recovery just last month. He’s outside your jurisdiction, in Mexico. The officials there are never going to help you, because he owns too many of them.”

  “Law enforcement are never going to touch him,” added Park, “but we can.”

  Carter laughed again. “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I’m not going to stand here and listen to this—”

  “Diamonds,” said Park. “And three million pesos. In September. If you’re monitoring Negron, if you have anyone near him at all, or any good electronic surveillance, you’ll know that he suffered losses.”

  “That was us,” said Ruby.

  Carter snorted. “I don’t know how you know the things you know, but I need proof, not two crazy women in a Subaru, for Christ’s sake. You don’t look like drug dealers, or arms dealers. None of this makes any sense.”

  “It’s the women,” said Ruby.

  “What?”

  “He’s trafficking women, and we want it stopped.”

  “It’s not right,” added Park.

  “Of course it’s not right,” said Carter testily. “I’ve been all over North America trying to shut down trafficking, and Negron’s only one small part of that. You don’t have to tell me what’s right, and you don’t get to go around assaulting federal agents because you think your cause is righteous. You’re coming with me, and you’re going to answer all my questions. If you’re lucky, and your information is useful, I won’t charge you.”

  He looked behind them to one of his men. “Graves, check them for ID, and then—”

  Carter stopped mid-sentence because the streetlight suddenly went out, plunging them into darkness. One of the men stepped forward and grabbed Park by the arm, the other turned toward Ruby, but she had already moved several feet away, heading for the deeper darkness between Carter’s SUV and the wall of the building closest.

  “Stop right there,” the man, Graves, yelled, and followed her into the inky darkness. There was a shout from the man, and then silence.

  Carter bent down quickly and retrieved his gun. “What now,” he muttered, and looked at Park and the other agent, barely visible in the darkness. “Albert, where the hell’s your flashlight?”

  Albert was tall, much taller than Park. He snaked his left arm under her left arm and then her right, pulling up high so that Park was stretched onto her toes, her arms pulled uncomfortably up behind her. She could try a well-placed kick, but she didn’t think she had the leverage or the angle. For the moment, she was stuck. With his free hand, Albert reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, fumbled it one-handed until he managed to activate the app that turned on the camera flash. The light was briefly blinding.

  “Don’t you have a real flashlight,” hissed Carter, annoyed and shielding his eyes.

  “I use this now,” said Albert simply. “One less thing to carry.”

  “Well, it’s...” Carter began but trailed off. He must have heard something, or sensed something, because he spun quickly around as a shadow detached from the roof of his SUV and launched through the air, landing on top of him as he raised his gun.

  “Oof!” Carter exhaled as he and his assailant hit the ground hard, rolling straight into Albert and Park. All four of them crashed to the ground. Albert’s phone dropped from his hand, landing with a crack on the pavement, coming to rest flash side down so that the alley was again plunged into darkness. Carter’s gun went off, the bullet pinging off the undercarriage of Ruby’s car.

  Albert rolled toward where the phone glowed against the pavement, momentarily loosening his grip on Park, who slipped out of his grasp and rolled the other direction. Carter regained his breath and pushed hard against his assailant, creating enough room to bring up his right knee and kick out hard, connecting. He leapt to his feet and took up a defensive stance. The moon was obscured by clouds, and in the darkness, he couldn’t make out his attacker. A noise to his right caught his attention and he turned to see someone coming out from between his SUV and the brick wall of the building.

  Albert reached his phone and picked it up, once again bringing light to the situation. Now Carter could see that the person by his car was the crazy Russian lady, which meant it wasn’t her that had at
tacked him. No sooner did he process this thought than he was kicked, hard, in the small of his back. The impact would have taken most people down, but Carter was tough, and in great shape. He absorbed the blow and spun, trying to catch the assailant’s leg with his left hand, but missed. He brought his gun hand around and in the white light of the flash saw his assailant for the first time.

  It was a woman, in a black latex suit complete with hood. Fierce eyes looked out from the hood opening, and a brown ponytail flew out behind her head through a hole in the hood made for just that purpose. He couldn’t believe his eyes, and the moment of hesitation cost him. The woman’s long leg whipped around again, her booted foot catching his gun hand. He kept his grip, but his arm was forced wide and she stepped into him, turning as she grabbed his outstretched wrist. There was an audible crack and Carter grunted hard. The gun once again flying from his hand and skittering across the pavement. His arm hung limply at his side, but he faced Selena squarely, blocking another roundhouse kick with his left forearm and getting in in a kick of his own, that caught her in the upper thigh.

  Meanwhile, Park was doing her best to keep Albert away from his gun holster. He was hampered by his need to keep shining light toward Carter. He realized that fighting Selena in the dark was going to make things worse for Carter. Even so, it was a battle for Park to keep a hold on his arm; Albert outweighed her by about eighty pounds. She let go of his arm with one hand and punched him sharply in the bridge of the nose.

  “Oww!” he bellowed. “Get off me!” and flung Park away. She rolled once on the pavement, then jumped to her feet, ready to have at him again as his hand reached for his holster.

  A sharp whistle cut through the air, causing Park to turn her head toward the noise. It had come from Ruby, who stood in the middle of the street, holding her cane in her hand once again. Catching Park’s eye, Ruby threw the cane and Park snatched it out of the air and brought it around toward Albert in one smooth motion. Without dropping his light, Albert, stopped the cane with his left hand, grabbing it and pulling it toward himself. His eyes widened in surprise when Park stepped back, pulling Ruby’s cane sword free of its scabbard. She lay the blade against his throat. Albert froze.

  Ruby came forward and relieved Albert of his phone and his gun. She swung the light back toward Salerno and Carter to find Carter motionless on the ground. Selena stood above him, hands on her knees and panting.

  Satisfied, Ruby turned the light back to Albert and shone it in his face. She reached into his coat pocket and came out with a pair of handcuffs.

  “Hands behind your back,” she ordered.

  Albert hesitated, and Park put a bit more pressure on the blade against his throat. “It’s this,” she said, “or we feed you to the ninja.”

  Albert put his hands behind his back, and Ruby cuffed him, then put a hand on his shoulder and pushed down, indicating that he should sit on the pavement. He did, careful not to fall over. Ruby turned the light back toward Selena, but she was gone. There was no one in the alley except Carter.

  “Sel—” Park began to call, but Ruby cut her off.

  “No names.”

  “Right, of course. But why would she do that?”

  “Es loco,” Ruby responded, with a terrible Spanish accent.

  They walked over to Carter, and Park knelt to check his pulse.

  “He’s alive, but it looks like his wrist is broken.”

  “He’s lucky that’s all that’s broken. Get his phones and his wallet. It’s too hard for me to kneel down.”

  Park collected them and then stood. “What about the third guy? I forgot all about him.”

  Ruby walked to the side of the SUV and shined the light into the dark space. “He’s still out. Pretty sure she gave him a concussion. His chest, though, it moves. He’s alive.”

  “Still, we better get out of here.”

  They turned back toward the Subaru, where the last remaining agent sat, wearing his own handcuffs. When the light hit him, he raised his head.

  “You people are crazy!”

  “Maybe,” said Park, reaching into his suit coat and removing his wallet. She barely had to bend over to do it, Albert was so tall.

  “We’re federal agents, do you think you can get away with this? Do you think I didn’t get your plate number?”

  Park flipped through his wallet. “That’s a stupid thing to say, Agent Albert. Or can I call you Francis? We are dangerous people, are you trying to goad us into killing you?”

  Albert hesitated, then shut his mouth. He didn’t look happy, though.

  Ruby pushed a few buttons on his phone, then held it up to her ear, making everything in the alley dark. Nothing happened for a few seconds.

  “Come on,” said Ruby to El, “get in the car. I’m on hold.”

  They pulled their doors shut and were buckling in when the operator picked up.

  “911, what’s your emergency?”

  “Yes,” said Ruby. “My name is Francis Albert, I’d like to report three men assaulted in an alley.”

  “What is your location?”

  “Why do you people always ask that? It’s a smartphone,” she said indignantly. She pulled a tissue out of a box she kept between the seats and began wiping down the phone.

  “Yes, ma’am, if you could tell us your location.”

  Ruby opened her window and dropped the phone onto the pavement. She started the wagon and then grunted as she turned to look out the rear window.

  “What about the plates?” asked Park as they slowly backed out of the alley. In front of them, their headlights showed Albert slowly getting to his feet, which can be hard to do when your hands are cuffed behind your back.

  “Not my plates,” said Ruby, as she swung the car out onto the main street and shifted into drive. “I never use my plates on a job.”

  “Clever,” said Park with admiration. She tossed Ruby’s cane into the back seat.

  “Good name, Francis,” Ruby said.

  “Pardon?”

  “Francis. A good name, versatile. Can be man, can be woman.”

  “I think if it’s a woman’s name it’s spelled with an e.”

  “You mean Francoise, the French.”

  “No, I mean Frances.”

  “Tomato, tomahto,” said Ruby.

  “What?”

  “Nevermind.”

  Fifteen

  “I am not answering the phone right now. Please leave a message, gracias.”

  Beep.

  “Hi Selena, it’s me,” I said. “I hear you had an exciting night out last night with a couple of my girlfriends. I just wanted to say thanks for showing them a good time. Give me a call soon, okay? Okay?”

  I sighed and ended the call. Then I turned my phone onto airplane mode as we were about to take off. I had brought a book, but instead I laid my head back and closed my eyes. I still wasn’t over my cold, and a few hours of extra rest wouldn’t hurt.

  Sixteen

  In a bathroom of the Northwestern Memorial Hospital, I adjusted my wig and smoothed down my nurse’s uniform. In my head I had imagined a tight white mini-dress, with white stockings and one of those little hats perched on my lustrous black hair, the kind of thing that would raise Nick’s blood pressure...but all the nurses these days just wore scrubs, so that’s what I had on. My name tag said Kinsey M., but it seems I shouldn’t have worried so much about my disguise. As I stepped into the hallway, the place was deserted. It was 2:30 in the morning, and the only staff on duty were gathered around the lighted nurses station, way down at the far end of the hall. Still, there are cameras in hospitals, so it’s best to play it safe.

  I eased open the door to Agent Carter’s room, stepped in, and slowly closed it behind me. It was a private room, with just his bed, which was slightly elevated. There was a standing lamp on in the corner, but otherwise it was dark, none of the garish fluorescents were on.

  Carter was asleep in the bed, a bandage on his head and his wrist in a cast. I was struck again by how h
andsome he was. It was almost funny how much he looked like an FBI agent: short hair, strong jaw. I stared for a moment longer and then crept silently to the table beside his bed and slid the drawer open. Sure enough, there was a 9mm Sig Sauer laying there. I gingerly pulled it out, checked that the safety was on, and put it in the waistband of my underpants, at the small of my back. I was afraid the scrubs would not be strong enough to hold it.

  Alright, the cold hard metal against the bare skin of my butt was weird, and a bit creepy. I took the gun back out and walked across the room and put it in the small trashcan by the door. When I turned back around I froze—Carter was awake and looking right at me!

  I startled and reached back toward the trash can.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Every time I try to sit up I see stars. I couldn’t get out of the bed if I wanted to.”

  “My friend has that effect on people,” I said, moving closer, but keeping my distance. He could be lying, and just waiting for me to move close enough for him to make his move.

  “It’s not my first concussion, not even my first in the last few weeks, which they say makes it worse.”

  “Yeah,” I said, moving more into the light. “I’m sorry about that one, too,” I added, thinking of the car accident in Canada.

  He squinted at me, then his face visibly relaxed. “It’s you,” he said.

  “Who did you expect?”

  “Whom, you mean.”

  “I will break your other wrist and throw you out the window if you do that again.”

  He laughed. “I’m sorry. My daughter’s a teenager. We have constant grammar battles. It’s a bad habit.”

  “But really, let that one go. Whom is washed up.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Whom did you think I was?” I asked, returning to the subject.

  “I don’t know. Drug dealers, traffickers, some crazy ninja woman. I seem to have a lot of enemies these days.”

  “Well, I’m not an enemy,” I said.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I just came to return your wallet,” I said, pulling it from my pocket and tossing it on the bed. “I’d have come sooner, but I had to make a quick trip to St. Louis.”