by Luke Murphy
“Jesus Christ, that was just a kid,” Calvin said.
“He’s sending a message to the rest of the crew.”
The drug boss said one last thing, spit at the dead boy’s feet, and turned and headed for the cabin.
Everything went deathly-silent. Two men untied the dead boy and transported the body away from the site, while the rest of the men who’d been gathered to watch, quietly went to sit on benches about thirty feet from where the murder had just occurred.
In minutes, everything looked to be running normally, or at least like it had yesterday. The only sounds came from the buzzing of insects flying around Calvin’s ears.
Calvin’s eyes narrowed, focusing on the set up.
The cage where Sanders had been kept was open and empty, so Livia was not being held there. There were no guards around the cage, since there was no expensive merchandise trapped inside. In fact, Calvin didn’t see many guards around at all.
The small group of men seated at a table outside the hut was now eating breakfast. They weren’t armed and they looked like skinny teenagers. They had their shirts off, their rib cages prominent.
“What’s your next move, Hot Shot?” Sanders asked sarcastically.
“Shut the fuck up, or I’ll put your nose back into place with my fist.”
He looked around again. He didn’t like the way it smelled. The soldiers he’d seen last night, who’d been intense and ready to go to war, now looked laid back and relaxed. Calvin felt a dreadful premonition. There was more that could go wrong than right with his plan.
“Before we go, I need to tell you something,” Calvin said.
“What?”
“Shawn Grant set you up to take the fall.”
“What are you talking about, Watters?”
“Shawn and Linda played you. They orchestrated the whole thing. They used you as a pawn.”
“Fuck you!”
Sanders was pissed, but Calvin could see the wheels turning. In the back of Sanders’ eyes, something told Calvin that Ace realized the truth, and maybe had always known something wasn’t kosher.
Calvin yanked hard on the rope. “Let’s go.”
He could feel perspiration pepper his upper lip. The throbbing in his leg sent shock waves to his brain, in total understanding that a wound infection had taken over his lower limb, and would be crawling into the rest of his body shortly.
They stepped into the clearing, and Calvin limped towards the men at the table. He pushed Sanders ahead of him, following behind.
The ex-casino owner walked with his head down. Calvin had one hand on the rope cuffs to guide him, and the other held a handgun, pointed at Sanders’ head. The sweat on his palms made them slippery.
One of the men on the bench finally noticed Calvin and Ace. He nodded to his companions, and everyone turned around. The men stood up immediately and grabbed for their weapons from the ground beside the table. They stood in a row, guns raised, locked and narrowed in on Calvin and Ace.
One of the younger looking boys turned and ran towards the large house in the background.
Calvin took a few more steps and stopped in the middle of the open area. They stood and waited.
“Why are you holding a gun to my head?” Sanders whispered.
“To show them that if they don’t bargain, then their future investment will have his brains blown out.”
“That’s a bluff, right?”
Calvin didn’t respond.
Less than a minute later, the door to the main house opened and the leader stepped out, followed closely by three armed guards.
The man leading the pack had a serious look on his face as he marched towards Calvin and Ace. As he passed the row of men holding the weapons, they all moved in unison behind him.
The man Sanders referred to as “the leader” was short, with black, collar-length, bristly hair. Perspiration filmed a deep-creased face, squint-lines around his eyes and a full, thick beard. A cold-steel survival knife rested in a leather sheath around his waist.
“That’s far enough,” Calvin yelled, pressing the gun harder against Sanders’ temple. He could feel Ace wince from the pressure of the barrel.
The leader stopped and raised his hands for his men to do the same. He looked at Calvin, then at Ace and then back to Calvin. He started to laugh.
“Who the fuck are you?” The boss never took his eyes off Calvin.
“Nobody important.”
“Toro Negro,” one of the guards said.
The man nodded and smiled, as if realizing who Calvin really was. “The Black Bull. The American asshole who took out several of our Brazilian friends.”
Calvin wondered how close the two drug cartels were and how much information they’d shared. And just how anyone knew that Calvin had been involved in all of that. “I’m here for the girl.”
“The American hero, back to save the girl. So predictable.” His voice dripped malice. He gave Calvin a scathing look.
He laughed, then stopped abruptly. He raised his hand in the air and snapped his fingers.
At once, the bushes around Calvin opened up and a dozen armed guards stepped out, their sights trained on Calvin.
How had he missed that? Was he slipping, or was everything that had happened over the last few days, drugs, injuries, his mental and physical state, finally getting to him?
Calvin’s blood went cold, but he stood his ground.
The leader spoke again. “So why did you come back, Mr. American Hero? You think this is a movie and you’re going to save the day?”
Calvin looked around, where twenty angry Colombians with hairy trigger fingers, their guns set on him, awaited their leader’s signal to open fire.
What had he been thinking?
“I have a deal for you,” Calvin said.
The leader looked around and motioned with his hands. “Look around, American Hero. Does it look like I need to make a deal?”
“Are you a business man?”
Now the boss paused. He rubbed his face, as if contemplating Calvin.
“You know who this is?” Calvin acknowledged Ace.
“He’s an American criminal,” the boss said.
Calvin nodded. “Aren’t most rich businessmen?”
The boss gave Calvin a gap-toothed smile.
“This guy owns two casinos back in Las Vegas. He’s worth a billion dollars. And he’s wanted by the FBI, LVMPD, US Marshals, and every other law official in the country.”
This news seemed to catch the boss off guard.
Calvin was sure the cartel would have done their research and learned who Ace was. They’d know about him being a convict for sure, and maybe even dig deeper and find out about Ace’s casinos. But Calvin banked on them not understanding that once Ace was convicted and sentenced to life in prison without parole, all of his accounts were drained and his assets sold off.
The leader pointed the gun at Calvin. “So, what’s stopping me from putting a bullet in your head right now and taking this asshole for ransom?”
“Money.”
The boss put the gun down.
“You shoot me, I shoot Sanders, and there goes any chance of a ransom payoff for Sanders. There are a lot of people looking for Ace who’d be willing to pay big money to get him back to America. Ace dies, you won’t get a penny. And I doubt you’ll get much for that Brazilian whore you have stashed away.”
Calvin could see the boss thinking, the cacophony of greed had him in knots.
“What do you want in return?” he asked.
“The girl, and your word that we’ll have a safe path out of here.”
The boss looked around the circle of men who had their weapons drawn. When they looked back at him, he started to laugh, loud. Then a chorus of laughter erupted throughout the campsite as all of the men joined in.
The man stopped, and everyone else stopped as well. He said something out loud in Spanish and two officers dropped the weapons to their side and jogged towards one of the smaller cabin
s in the back. They went inside, and remerged about a minute later, each man holding Livia by an arm. They carried her, her feet dragging on the ground.
Heat coursed up Calvin’s neck, tingling through him. He was relieved to see her alive. The moment he saw her, Calvin felt a mix of fatigue and stress hit him.
Livia looked severely beaten and tired, maybe even sedated, but when she saw Calvin, she smiled wanly. Strands of hair had slipped from her ponytail and were pasted to the side of her face.
One of the guards leaked blood from his nose and Calvin grinned. She was feisty and would never go down without a fight.
The boss again spoke in Spanish, holstered his weapon, and waved them to bring her to him. The men obeyed.
“So, she means that much to you, American Hero?”
“Not really, but she’s innocent in all of this. And I don’t give a shit about this guy.” Calvin pushed Sanders a step forward. “Once I have her, you can take Sanders and do whatever you want with him.”
The boss still didn’t say much.
“I’m okay,” Livia said, her voice vibrating with strength, even if her body didn’t show it. Her words were a bit slurred and she looked out of sorts.
The leader let Livia go and kicked her in the back, sending her to her knees with a grimace of pain. The boss started to laugh, and again his loyal, trained dogs followed suit.
Livia got up sluggishly, standing stoically.
Calvin kept his face wooden, even though the bile rose in his throat and he squeezed Sanders’ wrists hard.
“He’s not going to do it,” Sanders whispered to Calvin.
“Shut up.”
The boss whispered into Livia’s ear. Then he ran his tongue up her cheek. Livia closed her eyes and shook in disgust. But she never showed her fear.
The leader screamed something at her in Spanish.
She weakly stumbled on her feet and started to hobble towards Calvin. She moved deliberately, laboring, looking as if each step shot pain through her.
After maybe five baby-steps, the leader marched forward and grabbed her by the hair. He looked at Calvin, smiled and pulled out his gun. He pointed it at Calvin.
“I changed my mind. I think I’ll keep her.”
Calvin looked the boss in the eye, staring down the barrel of the gun. “I knew you would.”
He immediately lifted up Sanders’ shirt sleeve. Taped to the casino owner’s forearm was a black remote control with a single white button. Calvin pressed the button and one of the small houses behind the drug lord exploded.
Six seconds later, the other small cabin blew up, followed by the main house on the camp detonating another six seconds after that. Calvin had set everything to go up in six second intervals. Debris flew, chunks of wood and glass scattered across the open area.
The gasoline-powered generator was next to go and caused a massive eruption of smoke, dirt and debris.
As the drug cartel leader and soldiers ducked and dove for cover, Calvin pulled up the back of Sanders’ shirt and pulled out a second gun that had been hidden in Ace’s waist band.
He sprinted towards Livia, shooting as he ran. He hit the leader between the eyes, a look of shock registering on the boss’s face as he fell to the ground. One of the men standing beside the boss saw it all happen, and when he got up and reached for his gun, Calvin blew a hole in his chest.
As Calvin reached Livia, he hoisted her up over his shoulder and carried her out of there, fireman style, shooting off rounds as he moved. The adrenaline coursing through his veins temporarily hid the pain in his leg, increased his strength and heightened senses. His muscles tightened and heartbeat rose rapidly, feeling like his insides would explode.
Buildings and vehicles continued to detonate, going up in pieces as Calvin carried Livia away. The chaos and thick black smoke provided coverage and distraction to help them slip out.
“Let’s go,” he said to Ace.
“Take these cuffs off.”
“Later. We need to get out of here, now!”
Chapter 22
Dale and Jimmy left the precinct well after dinner time. The day had not been productive. They knew that Baxter was out there, waiting, but they had no leads on his whereabouts, and no contacts left who could help. Everyone involved with Baxter was dead.
“I can call Tina to come and get me,” Jimmy said, as they left the building and headed to their reserved parking lot.
“I don’t mind dropping you off. I want to drive by the house tonight anyway.”
“Why don’t you just go in?”
Dale shook his head. “Betty’s still not ready. She says she doesn’t want Sammie to get any mixed messages.”
“For Christ’s sake, the kid’s two years old.”
Dale shrugged, but didn’t respond.
“Mike is supposed to call in the morning when he has something.”
“Good.”
Jimmy walked around the car and got into the passenger’s seat, but Dale hesitated before opening his door. He looked over the top of the car, across the street. He took a long, second glance, and then got in.
He sat behind the wheel, took out his notepad, and scribbled down some numbers.
“What is it?” Jimmy asked.
Dale looked in the rear-view mirror. “That black SUV back there looks government issued.”
“So?” Jimmy looked in his side mirror.
“Two guys sitting in there watching us.”
“So?”
“They were out there this afternoon when I came out to grab my wallet. Same spot, same guys, watching the building.”
Dale opened his cellphone and dialed. “This is Detective Dayton. I need a plate check.” Dale read off the plate numbers.
He could hear the dispatcher typing keys before she came back on the line. He put his phone on speaker so Jimmy could follow the conversation.
“That vehicle is registered to Area 51.”
Dale looked at Jimmy. He could see the surprise on his partner’s face, and was sure that his held the same expression.
“Thanks.” Dale hung up.
“I’d say that’s odd.”
Area 51 was the United States Air Force facility within the Nevada Test and Training Range, eighty miles from Vegas. It was a facility run by the Central Intelligence Agency and the US Air Force, and although no one knew for sure what took place there, many conspiracy theories had arisen, including UFO sightings.
“Odd for sure,” Dale repeated. He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, keeping his eyes on his rear-view mirror.
As they merged into traffic, Dale watched the SUV pull out of its spot and follow them.
“Now that’s interesting.”
“What?”
“They’re following us.”
Dale took the SUV driver on a tour of Vegas, taking back roads, merging onto freeways, using multiple exits and all the while, the SUV stayed its course. It was a standard tracking procedure, remaining a few cars back and switching lanes frequently.
“What do you want to do?” Jimmy asked.
“I’d like to pull over and ask him what he wants, but I doubt he’d offer any information. I’m tired anyway.”
“Do you think, they think, we know where Baxter is?”
“Maybe.” Dale steered the car towards Jimmy’s house. “Tomorrow, we’re gonna find out what’s going on.”
♣
The sky darkened as they continued to move through the forest, without stopping to rest or catch a breath because they could still hear the enemy behind them. After the bomb detonations and fires back at the cocaine base, they’d barely made it into the shadows of the bushes before the bullets flew.
The heaviness of Livia over his shoulder was hell on Calvin’s leg, and he had to stop every few minutes to relieve the pressure. She’d passed out shortly after they’d escaped the gunfire, so she was dead weight and no help.
They could hear an ATV, angry shouts and gun fire close on their heels. The cartel
had hunting dogs out to follow the scent, and Calvin could hear the barking frenzy getting closer with each step.
Calvin’s legs burned as fatigue set in. From the stifling heat of the long Colombian days, the weight of Livia over his shoulder, and Sanders’ bummed ankle, Calvin knew they slowed down and lost ground. They had to make a small stand, even though they were outmanned and outgunned.
“I can’t go any more,” Ace said, urgency in his voice. He panted, and paled.
Sanders looked like he needed a major break.
At the next corner of the trail, when Calvin saw the last of the flashlight beams disappear behind them for seconds, he pushed Sanders off the path and down a small hill. Then he followed Sanders, carefully rolling Livia, who was slowly coming to, off his shoulder.
Calvin pulled the machine gun from his other shoulder, lay down on his stomach, turned and aimed. He lifted his head over the edge of the hill to take a look, and survey through the attached scope.
“Take these cuffs off and give me a gun.”
Calvin pulled a small side arm out of his duffel bag and handed it to Ace. “Don’t fuck with me, Sanders.”
Ace took the gun. “Yeah, yeah. What about the cuffs?”
“You can fire a gun with those on.”
“You still don’t trust me?”
Calvin looked around. The barking had quieted, and he could no longer hear the rush of the soldiers or any vehicles. They should have been right behind them, running into Calvin’s trap. It didn’t make any sense.
“Something’s wrong,” Calvin said.
“What do you mean?” Livia spoke for the first time since Calvin had grabbed her in the chaos. Her speech seemed to be coming back to normalcy.
“They should be right behind us. It’s like they turned around and went back.”
“That’s a good thing,” Ace said. “Maybe they gave up and decided we weren’t worth it.”
Calvin shook his head. “Not a chance. They’re up to something. We need to get to the plane.”
Calvin cut Sanders’ hands free.
“How far is that?”
“Less than eight miles.”
